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#... anyway the family had some pretty tense thanksgiving dinners for a while there. but they do eventually patch things back up
pivsketch · 1 year
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one of my friends told me "it seems a lot of your design decisions when it comes to your ocs depends on whether or not it makes you laugh" and my answer to that is yes. and there is no better way
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janeyseymour · 3 years
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So Thankful
For my dear friend Ay: I don’t think I followed the prompt all that well and I definitely had ideas that didn’t make it into it because I knew what I wanted to write, but then I forgot them... so this is what we’re working with. I hope you enjoy dear friend!
Thanksgiving was always chaotic in the house of the queens. The first year that they were back was quite confusing to all of them.
“Hey Lina?” Jane beckoned the first queen over to where she was standing at the calendar.
“What’s up Jane?”
“Do you know what Thanksgiving is?” She pointed at the word written across that day.
“Oh! I do!” Anne bounced in from the living room. “So, it started when America became colonized in the 1600s by Britain. The pilgrims had a feast. Well, a while later, Lincoln, America’s 16th president, declared it a day. In 1789, the congress passed it as a national holiday that is celebrated every November on the fourth Thursday. It’s a day where families get together and eat. They typically go around the table before their meals and ask what everyone is thankful for. To me, it’s kind of silly that that’s what the holiday has come down to considering the rich history of it, but-”
“We’re celebrating it. We all have so much to be thankful for, and we need to recognize it.”
“Cool. I’ll tell the others.” Anne ran upstairs, her small footsteps sounding like a herd of elephants as she called for the others.
“Wait! Anne!” Jane called. “What are we supposed to eat?”
“Turkey! Stuffing! Cornbread! Corn! Vegetables! Mashed potatoes! Mac n Cheese! But not the boxed kind- homemade. You know, that kind of stuff. And dessert! Pies! Pumpkin pie, apple pie, pecan pie! All the dessert!”
Catherine glanced at Jane in confusion.
“I guess when she says she reads, she’s really not lying,” Jane offered with a shrug of her shoulders.
-
And so, here the queens were, a few years later. Not only had they kept up on their tradition of having a Thanksgiving feast, but this year, they had new additions to the meal. 
“So, if you’d like, you’re more than welcome to come over for Thanksgiving. I know Becky, Dawn and Ogie are in town too, and they’re more than welcome to join! The more the merrier!” Jane smiled into the phone. 
“Oh girl, that’d be great. I’ll bring the pies for dessert. What time do you guys normally start eating?”
“We try to have everything set on the table by 3, but you know how that can be. So, it’s usually all done around 5. But you guys are more than welcome to come over at any time that day!”
“Great! And Lu is always more than welcome to come hang out while we do all this stuff if you want her out of your hair.”
“I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear that,” Jenna couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.
-
Thanksgiving day had come, and the queens house was nothing if not chaotic.
“Anne Boleyn, out of my kitchen!” Jane had screeched for the thousandth time that day. All she was trying to do at this point was make the stuffing with her youngest cousin.
“Janey, I’m just trying to-”
“I know you’re trying to help, and I really appreciate it, but you can’t keep opening and closing the oven door or the turkey is never going to be done! Why don’t you go help Anna?” Anne nodded and bounced down to the basement where they had set up a make-shift kitchen for the fourth queen.
“Hey Jane?” Kat said slowly.
“What?” the blonde hissed, a bit more bark in her voice than she would have liked.
“I cut myself.” The pink haired queen displayed her finger.
“Go clean yourself up. I’m pretty sure Aragon is done with the vegetables for now, so I’ll see if she can help with the stuffing.” Jane put her head in her hands. Of course this would happen. It wasn’t a holiday if Kat didn’t accidentally cut her finger trying to slice bread. 
The fifth queen nodded and walked upstairs, only to have her body in the kitchen replaced with the golden queen’s.
“How ever did I expect this to happen?” Catherine grinned, rubbing a hand on Jane’s shoulder on her way to Kat’s station. She grabbed a new knife and continued on with the bread cutting. “Relax Jane. It’s all going to be okay. And think of it this way: Jenna’s in charge of dessert this year, so that’s one less thing you have to worry about.”
“You’re right, but with the-” Jane counted in her head. “-six extra mouths to feed, we have to really up our game and make double what we usually make. And Jenna’s pregnant.”
“Hey, you know Dawn and Lu eat like birds. Together, they make up one of our mouths.” The doorbell rang. “Speaking of, there’s Lu now.” The two motherly queens walked to the door, and peaked their heads out.
“What’s the password?” Jane allowed herself to be silly for a moment.
“Aunt Janey! And Lina!” Lulu bounced from her spot on her mother’s hip. She squirmed to be let down, eliciting a giggle from the two women in the house.
“She’s been up and begging to come over since five this morning.”
“I was up anyway. Tried to start on the turkey before Hurricane Anne was awake, but she came bouncing down five minutes later. We would’ve let her come.”
“See Mama? I told you Aunt Janey would’ve been up!” 
“Come on in little Lu! We’ve got your apron all ready for you, and I’m sure Annie will be so excited to hear that you’re finally here! She’s been asking about you all morning.” What Jane had said wasn’t far from the truth. Questions about when their little friend would join them began at approximately eight in the morning.
“Be good for your girls!” the baker called out to her daughter who was already bouncing down the queens’ steps to the basement.
“She always is. How are the pies coming along?” Catherine made conversation with the woman.
“Dawn, Becky, and I made 'em up last night. Told the boys they were in charge of putting them in the oven, so they should be almost done!”
“Great. Did you want to come in and have a glass of wine or something?”
“I’d love to, but I promised the idiots at home I’d only be a few minutes. And, I don't entirely trust Ogie and Jim not to burn down my kitchen. I know Becky and Dawn-” Jenna laughed as she remembered the time Becky almost set their diner on fire. “-well, Dawn, could handle it, but not without having a full blown panic attack.”
“I’ve got you. Sounds like you have a couple hurricanes at your house right now.”
“That I do. But now, you’ve got... all of your hurricanes and my little hurricane.”
“She’s never a problem Jenna. I promise you, we all love having her around.”
“If she gets to be too much, let me know and I’ll swing by and grab her until dinner.”
“Appreciate it, but you won’t need to. See you at four?”
“See you at four,” the baker affirmed.
-
“Lulu Pomatter!” the blonde called to the basement, already a bit tense after the antics that morning.
“What Aunt Janey? I’m trying to help Anna decide how much cheese to put on the mac n’ cheese! And the potatoes!”
“Hun, you just need your apron.”
“Oh!” Lulu ran up the steps and allowed Jane to help her into the clothing.
“Your mama wouldn't be too happy if I returned you with food all over you knowing you have a perfectly good apron here, now would she?” the third queen muttered as she tied the piece of cloth around the little girl.
“Thank you!” the girl with pigtails squeezed her surrogate aunt and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek before running back downstairs to help Anna and-
“Annie! Stop eating the macaroni!”
“Oh good god,” Jane muttered to herself as she and the first queen continued to cut bread.
-
“Is the turkey almost done?” Anne made her way up the steps with Lulu on her hip.
“No, it’s not. And if you don't want Jane yelling at you again, I suggest you get yourself out of the kitchen,” Aragon responded, not looking up from the book she was reading.
“But I just want to see if-” the green queen cracked the oven door open slightly.
“Anne Boleyn! Close that oven door right now!” Jane’s voice could be heard from the bathroom.
“How did she know?” Lulu whispered, confused. The silver queen wasn’t in the kitchen.
“I swear, she’s got a sixth sense. Maybe she should’ve gone down in history as a witch, not me.” Aragon let out a snort- she wasn’t expecting that to come out of her successor’s mouth.
-
“Aunt Janey?” Lulu watched as the third queen flitted around the kitchen, setting out various dishes on the table.
“What’s up love?” Jane slowed down just a bit to get a look at the sweet girl in front of her. Her heart pained a little, feeling the absence of her son who she so dearly wished was celebrating this holiday with them.
“Could I help set the table?”
“Of course honey! You know where all of the silverware is.” Jane nodded in the direction of the drawer anyway.
-
“Aunt Janey?”
“Yes dear?” Jane didn't turn around from the gravy she was whisking, but she made sure to let the girl know she was listening. 
“Where’s Cathy?”
“Oh, I think she’s up in her room writing some. Do you want to go see her?”
“Can I?”
“I’m sure she would love the company. And maybe, you can pry her away from her work for a little bit.”
“Do you think she might want to read my book with me? I got it at the library! It’s about Thanksgiving!”
“Why don’t we go ask her?” Jane motioned for the girl to follow her up the steps and knocked on the writer’s door.
“Yeah?” Cathy called.
“You’ve got a little munchkin wanting to visit. Think you could tear yourself away from that screen for a-”
“Cath! It’s me! It’s Lulu! Can I come in?”
The door swung open almost instantly. “If I had known you were here, I would’ve come down!” The little girl made grabbing hands towards the queen dressed in blue. 
-
“Hey Lu? Cath?” Jane was standing at the door she had been in front of an hour before. “Dinner’s almost ready. Do you guys want to-”
“Aunt Janey! Look!” The door whizzed open, revealing Lulu, Cathy, Anne, Anna, and Kat all in paper hats covered in glitter, no doubt supplied by the fifth queen. 
“We made you, Lina, Mama, Daddy, Dawn, Becky, and Ogie hats too! And Cathy wrote a play for us to all put on after dinner!”
-
“Hi!” Lulu opened the door for her family, sparkling hat on top of her head.
“Hey guys,” Jane nodded as she opened the door wider for the group to come in, a paper hat with silver sparkles covering much of her blonde hair. 
“Holy moly!” Anne came sprinting over, seeing the three pies that Jenna was balancing along with the two pies in Jim’s hand and one that Dawn was holding. “How many pies did you make?”
“A shit ton,” Becky laughed.
“So you’re Becky?” Anne grinned, knowing that the bold woman was indeed Becky. The queens had heard enough stories to know which woman was which. 
“You’re damn right I’m Becky. And Dawn here, she’s the quietest of us all. Get a couple drinks in ‘er though and-”
“Becky!” Dawn gasped.
“Alright girls, that’s enough for now,” Jenna ordered in her “mom tone”, as the two waitresses liked to call it.
“Lu, are you forgetting to give them their hats?” Catalina, the woman with such regality, had a paper hat decorated with gold sparkles.
“Oh yeah! So, while Aunt Janey and Lina were finishing up with dinner, me and the rest of my girls-”
“The girls and me,” Jim corrected gently.
“-Gosh Daddy. The rest of my girls and me,” she moaned unceremoniously. “Made hats for everyone! Like the pilgrims! And Kat had sparkles and glitter, so we decorated them! Annie told me they all had colors assigned to them for the show they were in, so they kept their colors! Lina is gold, Annie is green, Aunt Janey is silver, Anna is red, Kat is pink of course, and Cathy is dark blue! I made you three-” she handed the women their hats. “-light blue because of the uniforms at my diner. Daddy is black glitter, and Ogie too.” She handed the men their hats.
-
“Alright guys, what are we all thankful for?” Jane looked at the group expectantly.
“Isn’t it right that you start Janey?” Anne looked at her.
“I guess. Okay, well I’m thankful for the roof over our heads, and the food that is about to
be in my stomach. I’m thankful that Anne hasn’t burned the house down yet. And, I’m thankful for all of you. You're the best family that I’ve got. Thank you for helping get this dinner together, and for overall just always being there for me when I need it. Okay, who’s next?”
-
“Good god, I’m so full,” Anne remarked as she unbuttoned her pants.
“Must you do that every year?” Catherine didn’t even try to stop herself from rolling her eyes.
“I hope you’re not too full, because I brought six pies.”
“Which ones?” Anne’s eyes lit up.
-
“Good god, I’m so full,” Anne yawned. “I don't know how you do it Jenna, but all of those pies were amazing.” The second queen had, in fact, helped herself to a slice of each and every pie the baker had brought.
-
Jane and Jenna had the littlest girl laying across their laps. Jim was happy to sit on the couch arm, an arm wrapped around his wife. Anne was curled into Jane’s other side, happy to be small enough to fit on the couch next to Katherine. Aragon was sitting in her recliner, Cathy perched on one couch arm, and Anna was more than happy to lay on the floor, blanket draped over her. Ogie and Dawn found their positions sitting in front of the couch, Becky above them. The hats had been carefully laid down on the kitchen table to be put away for next year.
They had cleaned up and were now watching a movie the little girl requested, but as she fell asleep, the adults began to chat and reminisce.
“I can’t believe we’re lucky enough to spend this holiday all together,” Jenna smiled. “For a long time, Thanksgiving was just Becky, Dawn, and me. But this- this is really great.”
“It’s only gotten better because you decided to join in on the chaos this year.” Jane nudged the baker. “Thank you again for the pies by the way. I’m sure they’ll be gone before the weekend because of someone.” She cast a knowing glance at the green queen curled up into her side.
“So, here’s a weird question for you,” Dawn giggle, a few glasses of wine in. “What’s the best thing that you didn’t have in the 1500s?”
“Comfortable chairs,” Catalina smiled. How she hated sitting in that uncomfortable throne for the twenty-four years she was queen.
“Shoes with wheels in them,” Anne laughed, knowing the third queen would groan.
“Comfortable clothing. I hated those stupid ass corsets we had to wear. I couldn’t work out in them!” Cleves threw in.
“Phones. I love having all of the music in the world in my hand,” Kat added without looking up from her phone.
“Computers. It was so hard physically writing everything down then. Now, if I make a mistake, I can just press the backspace.”
“Jane? You’re awful quiet.” The room’s attention turned towards the blonde, who looked up with tears in her eyes.
“The best thing that I didn’t have in the 1500s was you guys. I’m so thankful for each and every one of you.”
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Thanksgiving
I guess…. Thanksgiving is the only thing I can write about next to avoid talking about… 
 But all in all Thanksgiving was pretty uneventful. I mean it was nice, but not much to actually TALK about you know?
I spent it with Lan Zhan and his brother. They’d had a big fight with their uncle, but I was still surprised they were spending the holiday without him. Apparently he had asked them to spend it with him and they had refused.
Lan Zhan… he had some trouble with his family which resulted in him being largely disassociated with them for a long time. But recently his uncle has been reaching out. I think he’s trying to bridge that gap and make amends.
I’m really glad that at least Lan Zhan has had his brother this whole time. Lan Xichen. He really is a nice man. Very kind, and I think very sad. He takes care of his brother at his own expense I think. I’m very glad of this but I really hope that he has someone reliable to take care of him too. I’m pretty sure I’ve brought this up before, but I think Da Ge tries. And there was someone else Lan Zhan mentioned before. A Jin I think. Lan Zhan didn’t seem too pleased about him but I mean, is anyone pleased with the Jins? (Shijie’s children are half Jiang and directly descended from Shijie herself so they don’t count to this and I guess Jin ZiXuan could be worse but he’s on thin fuckin ice. )
It was kinda tense, actually. Thanksgiving. Delicious and friendly, but I could feel the absence of their uncle. I think they could too. I mean. I get it. I really do. I really REALLY do. 
But at the same time… he’s their family. Real honest and true family. And he wants to connect with them. He’s making a real effort, even if it’s rather clumsy. I get the feeling he doesn’t do emotional very well and well… this is an emotional time for all of them. So I get that too.
And… it’d really be a shame for Lan Zhan to lose his uncle. I know that he loves him. Despite everything he does. And Lan Xichen too.
But it’s not my place to patch things up. They treat me like family but I’m not really, am I? Not like that anyway. It’s not right for me to push my way in. 
Anyway. I showed up when they told me to. I couldn’t contribute much but I brought a couple of store-bought pies with me. I was greeted by the two brothers popping their heads out of the kitchen, Lan Xichen with a smile on his face and Lan Zhan with a smile in his eyes. (I think he was happy I’d actually used the key for once. Still knocked though haha. ) Lan Xichen took the pies from me, assuring me that the flavor was fine when I mentioned I wasn’t sure what kind they liked. He told me to wash up and sit down because dinner would be done soon.
That’s always so weird isn’t it? Dinner? It’s 2 PM! Only you, Thanksgiving. Only you. 
Either way. I washed up and went about setting the table. I can at least do that much. Made sure the silverware was just so, thank you I guess Madam Yu for actually sending me to that…. I guess what would you call them? Finishing school night classes? 
After all - had to be a polite young gentleman when they needed to show me off. No one wants a misbehaving orphan. 
Anyway. I know how to place silverware. So I did. Even folded some fancy napkins! (Youtube taught me that one. Not that damn night class). 
In the end we had so much food that we had to bring out a couple of TV trays to hold the excess. How much do they think 3 people can eat?
Lan Xichen took the blame for that one, saying he got excited that I was there. Turns out they made a lot of duplicate dishes so that I could have an extra spicy version! Like for real! Just for me! When I pointed out that while I was incredibly touched, I was and still am, I am in fact just one person with one stomach. Lan Xichen laughed and told me “that is the beauty of leftovers!” and then produced a mountain of tupperware for me to take home whatever I wanted. 
I may not be a real member of their family, but by god that’s not for lack of trying on Lan Xichen’s part. Well… Lan Zhan too. He’s the one who ended up carefully packing away the leftovers and putting them neatly in a bag for me when I went home. 
Lan Zhan always takes such good care of me. So saying that… that I’m not part of the family.. Maybe not entirely true. At least this little one. I can have that right? I mean I’m sure their uncle would HATE me and I’d never be accepted as family by the rest of them but… with the brothers…. I can have that can’t I? 
(See? I’m trying to let myself have things. I’m trying to accept what people are giving me. I’m trying. It’s hard but I’m trying.)
The meal was delicious, though a bit quiet. Neither of the Lan brothers talk much while eating as a rule but they were more than willing to respond to my mindless chatter. So I guess it worked out. 
While Lan Zhan packed up the food after we finished eating all we could I helped Lan Xichen with the dishes. He tried to protest but I remember throwing the ‘family’ thing back at him. Something like
“If you’re gonna treat me like family then you’re gonna treat me like family” or some bullshit like that. Basically guests sit on their asses while the hosts clean up but family helps with the chores. 
I remember he laughed and conceded. Between the two of us we got it done pretty quick. I remember catching Lan Zhan’s eye while I dried off my hands. He looked… tender…. 
I think… thinking back on it I think it made him happy that Lan Xichen and I get along. 
After ‘dinner’ was all put away, save for some snacks to graze on the moment our stomachs gained enough room to stuff something else in them, we set up some board games and movies to watch. Just stupid comedies and light stuff. No one was in the mood for drama. 
I was surprised to find that Lan Xichen had watched a lot of them already! 
“Huaisang often insists on movie nights and I’ll admit I’ve grown rather fond of them at this point,” he’d said.  Whoda thunk?
At one point I remember even going off into a quoting battle with him with one of the movies. He won, naturally, as he’s got a near perfect memory anyway. Haha. 
Lan Zhan, poor Lan Zhan. He had to just deal with us being idiots for hours. How did he ever survive? He couldn’t have been suffering too much though because I’m 99% sure he caught me cheating while Lan Xichen was distracted by one of his favorite parts of a movie and he didn’t say a peep.
Well he said my name but when I turned on the pleading eyes he just laughed and let me get away with it. (Have I mentioned how much I love his laugh? It’s little more than an extra-heavy exhale most of the time but it’s sweeter than the most heavenly music to me. I want to sleep wrapped up in that sound.)
Honestly just… whenever he laughs or smiles at me I have to dig my nails into my palm to keep myself from just throwing myself at him. Even now.. Especially now that I know what that kiss tastes like. 
I wonder… I wonder if he’d wanted to too… Lan Xichen turned back away from the movie and I remember both of us coughing and focusing back on the game. Pretty sure Lan Xichen gave us a rather pointed smile, the devil poking his head again, but thankfully he didn’t actually SAY anything. 
The rest of the night went smooth. We brought out some leftovers to eat even though we weren’t hungry and stuffed ourselves silly again. Through some ungodly strength of will, Lan Zhan sacrificed himself to put the food and dishes away again while I rolled on the floor like the over-stuffed goblin I am. 
While Lan Zhan cleaned up Lan Xichen said his goodbyes. He thanked me for coming, saying that it meant a lot to him that I was willing to share the holiday with the two of them. Said I made the whole thing the liveliest Thanksgiving he could remember having. I was going to say that must be a bit of a stretch but then I remembered how sombre they seem to be when left alone. Probably have had their share of rather dull ‘celebrations’. What’s the point of a celebration if you don’t…. You know… celebrate? Ah well. Not that I can say much anyway. I don’t remember the first 10 years of my life and the 10 years after that were… Well I’m not gonna say I didn’t have ANY celebrations that were just celebrations. Shijie and Jiang Cheng made sure of that. But there were no big family celebrations that weren’t just for show.  So I guess Lan Zhan’s family celebrations… well maybe they wouldn’t have been the most exciting but I bet they were more genuine than mine. So I guess he wins anyway in that regard.
Honestly I didn’t even realize how bullshit it all was until the Wens started to insist I spend some holidays with them. I didn’t want to intrude on any of the big ones but some of the smaller ones. Birthdays and such. The Wens know how to fucking party, is all I’m sayin’. Uncle Four makes some KILLER wine. 
Anyway, I thanked Lan Xichen for the food and all that and said my goodbyes. He went off to say goodbye to his brother and poof he was gone. Not sure what he said. Probably just embarrassing older brother stuff as he is entitled to. But Lan Zhan’s ears were a very pretty pink when he joined me in the livingroom again. And he didn’t look me in the eye for a few minutes there haha. 
The rest of our night went as normal. We stayed up for a couple more movies and went to bed (I spent the night). 
Ended up taking a lot of leftovers with me when I went home the next day which was good. I wasn’t going out to do any shopping of any kind on Black Friday. I refuse. On principle. 
So yeah.. That’s Thanksgiving. Not really eventful.
But… it was warm. And happy. The best Thanksgiving I can remember ever having at least.
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greensphynx · 3 years
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Timer Starts Now
A fanfic for Voltron: Legendary Defender
Rating: Mature
Pairing: established Shance
A Spanksgiving drabble for you lost souls.
---
They were all set.
Lance had managed to transform the cold, alien dining hall of the Castleship into the perfectly festive, picture perfect dinner occasion.
He had found a piece of fabric large enough to cover the entire huge table as a proper table cloth and found the best Altean tableware deeply hidden in the cupboards to set out. He had raided the scrap heap Pidge and Hunk shared for their projects to recreate some pretty fancy high candles - the LED type, of course, but it didn't take an engineering genius like Hunk to make them flicker like a real flame.
There was a lot of space left on the table, but Lance had been prepared and brought a big bunch of the beautiful vegetation of the last planet they'd been on, setting it up over the free space like an alien flower arrangement.
Hunk had done his part with an amazing feat of his culinary artistry, cooking up a whole lot of delicious looking side dishes - the occasional neon coloured food would just have to do - and a surprisingly accurate recreation of cranberry sauce. It was too bad that the large roast looked nothing like a turkey, but at least it appeared to be meat so Lance was not going to be picky.
Lance was way too pleased to be picky about such a thing now.
The table was set for a feast, because the steadily advancing calendar of his tablet said today was Thanksgiving, and it was about time they had a party together, just the paladins and the Alteans and not some other civilisation that needed to be pleased and coddled into an alliance. Just them, and a lot of delicious food and all the free time to enjoy it.
Coran had brought out the formal, non-armoured wear for the paladins, so they all looked good.
Lance could not have been happier right now. (Well, aside from spending the holidays with his family back on earth, anyway.)
The only thing off with the table was that when they all took their seats, Shiro pointedly put his tablet on the table, the numbers of an unstarted timer blinking brightly on the screen. Lance glanced up at Shiro's face questioningly, only to receive a meaningful look and Shiro pointedly starting the timer.
Boy, Lance knew what that look meant.
For the first time since he started to prepare this party, he couldn't wait until it was over.
---
"I'm so proud of you, Lance."
Lance answered with only a soft, relieved whimper, his death grip on Shiro's pants legs finally loosening a little. Shiro's hand felt hot and rough where it gently petted the burning skin on Lance's backside, but it was a blessed break from the harsh spanking that had been raining down on bare skin for what already felt like an eternity.
"You set the table so nicely," Shiro continued to praise, all gentle and fond while his hand continued to stroke and pet. "It was almost like being back home, celebrating with family. Which we were doing now too in a way, weren't we?"
"Y-yes, sir," Lance stammered out quickly, knowing better than to let a question go unanswered.
His breathing was finally slowing to something more normal again, the muscles that had him tense as a board over Shiro's lap slowly relaxing into a slump.
Lance was holding back from relaxing fully, knowing what would happen once he did.
Shiro saw right through him though, as he always did.
"Come, we're almost halfway."
Lance couldn't stop the helpless sob at that news, yelping when Shiro's hand swatted down on his abused skin as hard as every time before. His break was over, and Shiro's spankings were relentless, his hand coming down hard and fast, back and forth from Lance's left cheek to his right and back again.
The harsh slapping of Shiro's hand on his skin filled Lance's ears even more than his own wailing did, the rhythm of it hypnotising until he couldn't hear himself at all anymore. He couldn't hear the rush of his blood in his ears, or his rapid, gasped breathing or the creak of the fabric in his hands that he was nearly tearing through. Only that hand coming down again - and again, and again, and again.
And then it stopped again, Shiro's hand remaining on the last spot it hit, like every time Lance was about to get too overwhelmed. Lance heaved in a breath and whimpered out another wail, letting himself be hushed by Shiro's cooing over him.
Another round over. How many times had the timer gone off before the meal had ended?
"It takes so long because you did so well. You should be very proud, Lance."
Maybe he was, but right now he only had whimpers and sniffles, no boasting or genuinely pleased smiles. Right now he couldn't look up at Shiro to see the proud smile on his face - if not for the angle of Lance over his lap, then because his eyes were too full of tears to make out anything.
"Not even Pidge was in a hurry to leave and get back to her laptop. She looked like she was having so much fun, finally letting go a little. She really needed that."
Lance gave a watery nod in agreement as he came down again. Shiro's gentle voice and touch never seemed to have any trouble tugging Lance down from the edge, no matter the situation. No matter the knowledge of how calming down would merely mark the next round.
But the next round also meant one round closer to the last one.
"Maybe I should've taken a larger time interval to measure how many rounds you should get," Shiro mused quietly, and Lance quickly tugged on the leg of his pants, shaking his head sharply.
"N-no!" He protested, voice a rough croak from his crying. "I earned- you can't take away my- I earned them." He tugged again, like a petulant child stamping his foot.
Shiro could not deny him the spankings he earned!
Shiro chuckled warmly at Lance's insistence, giving a light few taps on his butt in acknowledgement. "Alright, dear, don't worry. You worked hard for this, so you'll get your prize."
Lance tensed up in advance when Shiro's hand lifted again, readying for the next round of spanking as Shiro rumbled in amusement. "Happy spanksgiving, Lance."
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chelseaheskett · 4 years
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CHRISTMAS EVE, 2019 @ THE HOLT HOUSE
They were late getting the presents under the tree this year. Not for a lack of trying: Vanessa, quite adventurous, thought it would be fun and hilarious to tear off all the wrapping paper and low-hung ornaments from the Christmas tree. It was frustrating, sure, but all Chelsea could do was laugh when she found her little girl surrounded by baubles and fir and gift wrap in the living room. If she didn’t laugh about it, then she was sure to cry about it. Laughing and cleaning it up seemed easier. No use crying over spilled milk and all that. Now her and Elliot were up early morning Christmas Eve, preparing for the holiday before the sun could come up, while the rest of the house was still sound asleep. 
They were almost through wrapping and re-wrapping all the presents when they took a break. Chelsea constantly had to pee, anyway, so Elliot was the real hero. He did most of the work. “Here you go, baby.” She said, emerging from the kitchen with a freshly brewed cup of coffee for him. Empty wrapping paper rolls and jagged edges and small torn pieces of wrap covered the coffee table, so she handed it to him directly on the couch. She plopped down beside him, cradling her stomach. Twenty-seven weeks pregnant, now. Thankfully, Chelsea was starting to even out a little, mentally. Elliot was in and out of his sling, getting closer to recovery. Everything was starting to settle again. The miracle of Christmas! God, she loved Christmas. Ever since meeting Elliot, and falling in love with him then, it had become her favourite time of the year. She was so content that she didn’t even mind the early wake-up time. 
Chelsea threw her legs over Elliot’s lap. They were still warm and comfy in their pyjamas; Elliot in a long-sleeved shirt and his trademark cartoon PJ pants. These ones were white and fleece and had snowmen and reindeer and other animals printed all over them. Chelsea was in loose and matching flannel maternity PJs that she paired with pink bed socks. She flexed her toes in them, scratching the soft material against Elliot’s forearm. “You know what I want for Christmas?” Chelsea prompted, shifting to tuck herself under his arm, so she could cuddle into his chest. She paused for dramatic effect, wondering how his mind was going to wander... It did sound a little suggestive, in nature. She let him go that way for a moment, kinking an eyebrow, before finally putting her request out there in the open. “I want us to pick a name for the baby.” Chelsea raised her head, peeking up at him to gauge his reaction. “Can we do that today, please? Can we do that now?” She asked, sounding hopeful. Put on the puppy dog eyes, just in case.
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They decided on a first name together by the time one of the babies (Isaac) started wailing on the monitor. Luca. They were going to call their little peanut Luca. There was something about short names, when it came to their boys: Jack, Isaac, Luca. Alex, too, in a way. Even if it was a nickname for Alexander, and even if he had nothing to do with Chelsea, it still counted. Chelsea still liked to count him, rest his soul. Their girls had long names, for some reason? Genevieve and Vanessa. It was cute, when she thought about it. She grinned, when she did. She loved her family. And that’s why Chelsea loved Christmas so much: spending so much time surrounded by her favourite people, celebrating them and showering them with gifts and love and appreciation. It was Thanksgiving turned up a notch. She just felt so happy. So happy and loved and fulfilled.
By noon, everyone was awake and dressed and running amok. Jenny was with Lucy until tomorrow morning, which kinda sucked, but Chelsea tried not to let it ruin her good mood.  Vanessa and Jack were in the kitchen with Elliot, who was cutting them up fruit for a snack. Isaac was clutching Chelsea’s cardigan on the couch, and trying to rip the holes wider in her jeans. He touched her stomach constantly, copying what he saw Elliot do all the time. Babbled to her belly, too. There was an animated Christmas movie flickering on the TV in the background, but Isaac wasn’t paying attention. He was more interested in watching Chelsea browse the internet on her laptop. She scrolled through her computer with one hand and brushed through Isaac’s hair with the other. 
“Elliot, baby, come here!” Chelsea shouted from the living room. Vanessa and Jack came running through the archway with plastic bowls. Elliot wasn’t too far behind, carrying one for Isaac. “Thanks, hon.” She said, tilting her head up to give him a kiss when he got close. “Say ‘thank you, Daddy’, baby.” Chelsea turned to Isaac to coach him. “Tank you, Daddy.” Isaac enunciated, grabbing a hold of his fruit bowl. He, too, lifted his chin to get a kiss. Chelsea lightly laughed. Yeah, this was the good life. Elliot sat down beside them on the couch and Chelsea passed over her laptop for him to see. Isaac nibbled on a piece of chopped up banana and slid off the couch to join Jack and Vanessa on the floor mat by the television set. He left his bowl behind, but Isaac never got too far away from them, anyway. Chelsea moved it to the coffee table, clean now, and bumped her shoulder against Elliot’s.
As always, Chelsea had to explain. “There’s this lady that makes these name signs, y’know, for like... newborn announcements and for room decor and... it lets you type in a name and see what they look like, with the design you want, before you buy one, so...” Her leg was bouncing, she was so excited. She pointed to the preview image on the laptop. A wooden circle, with animals printed on top, and the name Luca Elliot scripted above a hand-drawn star. They didn’t get a chance to discuss middle names earlier. Chelsea hoped he liked it. Hoped he wouldn’t push back against it, considering it was his name. Chelsea sucked in a breath. “What do you think? Do you like it? The... the sign and the name, I mean.” Chelsea asked, thumbing his wrist. “Should I buy it?”
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The doorbell started chiming. Chelsea pulled a face, wondering who it was. Her Mom was in Wilmington until her flight back tonight, and they weren’t supposed to be seeing Macy and Amy and their families until dinner tomorrow. Last minute Amazon delivery? She wasn’t sure. “I’ll get it!” Chelsea announced, struggling to get off the couch with all her baby weight. She held her bump as she walked to answer the front door. 
Happiness was only momentary. The other shoe always dropped eventually. And again, again, everything came crashing down around her. Around them. They couldn’t even have one day, one damn holiday, without something bad happening, could they? Her shoulders tensed. She gritted her teeth. “What the hell are you doing here, Christian? You need to go.” Chelsea practically spat, holding onto the door, quite ready to slam it in his face. She felt sick at the sight of him. Angry. She’d punch him in the face again if she had to. 
“Chelsea, please just give me a chance—”  
“A chance? Are you dumb?” Chelsea cut him off, laughter bubbling at her lips. “It’s literally Christmas. Leave. Now.” It was either of his own accord or in a body bag, at this point! 
Christian held his ground. “Yeah, you’re right, it is Christmas.” Chelsea squinted at him, wondering what the hell he was trying to get at. “And my father is in town—”
“Good for you, asshole!” She swore, interrupting him again. Thanks for rubbing it in, Christian. Chelsea’s eyes prickled with tears, briefly thinking about her own father, and tried to close the door. Christian kept it open with the palm of his hand. Chelsea’s heart started to race. He could easily overpower her, like he’d done once before... but Elliot and her kids were in the house. Where was Elliot? She was surprised he hadn’t come to check on the door. It didn’t matter. He was better off staying out of this one, staying safe inside the living room. 
“My father, William Pearson.” Christian said forcefully. So? Sounded like a common name. Must’ve been plenty of them in California, let alone in all of America. But Chelsea wasn’t that stupid. She connected the dots pretty quickly. Refused to swallow the thought, though. Nope. She couldn’t believe that. She wasn’t going to buy into his bullshit.
“Goodbye, Christian.” Chelsea tried to close the door again, but it was no use. The fear and anxiety felt like it was choking her; labouring her breaths. 
“Elliot’s my brother.” Christian said it, anyway. Chelsea squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t be hearing this. Not now, not ever. “I swear I didn’t know. I just found out...”
“You’re lying.” Chelsea’s voice was rough. She opened her eyes just to glare at him, trying to will him away. Christian reached his hand out to... touch her? Comfort her? She wasn’t sure, but took her opening and slammed the door shut. Deadlocked it. Almost caught his hand in the frame. That would’ve been good, that would’ve been payback. Chelsea tried to control her breathing, hiding behind the closed door. Christian was still outside, on the porch. She could hear him.
“I have proof! I have pictures, I brought my birth certificate. I have Elliot’s, too. I have it all here.” Christian said through the door. Chelsea turned to press her back to it. Elliot was standing there, right there in the entryway. Oh God. Her knees started to buckle. Chelsea had to grip the door frame to keep herself from collapsing. Her heart rate was through the roof. 
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syalmazhafira17 · 3 years
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Her Brother
Her grief of losing loving brother
TW: Mentions of death, drug addict, use of alcohol, slight mention towards s*ici*e
Word count: 2.566
A/N: Hii, finally I could post my writing in my Tumblr. I started a challenge for myself for writing 2.000 words at least every week and this is my piece of writing for November Week #2. I use some prompts for this writing, here is the list of the prompts and credits to tumblr blog posts that I took the prompts from, if you see your prompt used and wanted a credit, you can always chat me and I will give you credits. Thank you for reading!
XOXO,
Syalma
Thanksgiving, 2015.
Orange leaves piling up behind the house on the backyard. Falll has finally come, but her heart feels like the leaves, yellow, orange, falling from the tree, although they fall gracefully, but not her. Her heart felt like a haunted house, dusty and old. Her hair was a mess of strings. She can't cry anymore, she had ran out of her tears. She felt hollow on her soul, she just an empty flesh and bones.
His hands were the only safe place in the world for her now. The place where everything seems and feels fine, everything was perfect as she wished it was.
"When will you be home?" her voice trembled and cracked at the end. He coudl clearly tell her emotion, she has been with him for years.
"What's wrong petal?" he asked.
"He's gone, Carl. He has left," she broke down. Tears still not there, but her chest felt burst with emotions.
"Who- petal, I'll be home soon enough, okay? And we'll talk about it if you want to," Carl gulped.
"Thank you," she sniffled and hung up, buried her face on the pillow, that ironically smells like lemon, just like the smell of his other stuff she missed so much, but she couldn't bear the pain again. A knife felt twisted in her heart, and she growls in unphysical pain. Her hand squeezed her pillow harder, please take the pain away, she begs inside. She finally cried, with no tears, just some emotional heavy feelings being lifted off her chest, but it feels better, but not for long.
Her hand finds a way to her chest, squeezing the pendant of her necklace unconsciously.
"Don't lose it," he has said when he first gave it to her. "You have to remember me."
"I won't," she smiled brightly, not paying too much attention to the last sentence.
It was years ago, before only a month ago, she found out he got addicted to drink, and drugs. Not being the person she knew for years. Her head buried deep on her thoughts, the first time he show her what's love, care, and dream.
She was 4, he was 6, he already knew the family at such a young age. She didn't understand everything, but she already felt pain, and hatred. Her cheeck gone red, her face heated up, but she won't break, she was near for losing it, but she knew the consequence. She had enough for the day. She quietly crawls outside, towards the yard, where he waited. He immediately pick her up, wiping beads of tears that started to fall down quietly.
"Shhh...it's alright. It's okay. You are with me now," he whispered, holding his baby sister closer. Her chubby cheek mushed against his chest. She let out a soft whimper to let out the pain in her body. Her milk soft skin bruised here and there, hidden with dresses she wore, but that doesn't mean the pain gone. The only person knew it was him, he will always ice packed it, and kiss her, in susbtitution of parental sweet kiss.
For years it will be like those days. As they grow up together, they started to play along with the games. They would run through the bushes on the backyard and laughed as their parents chase after them, drunk, sober, but still dangerous. Their barrier will always be the wall on the backyard, when they were younger, they will always stop there, but when she hit 11, they started jump over the wall and ran to the street until it's midnight and their parents already head out to the bar.
One time, they almost got caught outside, on the street, they took the wrong turn and met with their drunk parents. He sees them first, immediately stopping her on the track and pull her to hide behind an abandoned building. And they got trapped there for an hour. They wouldn't mind, but she started to be scared. Feeling her body tensed, he crawled to the back of the building
"What are you doing?" she squeaked.
"Shhh, follow me," he instructed. He crawled to the little door towards the back of building. She looked over to where he meant it, before figuring out the thing.
"Is that even possible? It's too small," she shook her head
"Of course, silly. What do you think about your cool big bro?" he chuckled, pushing materials around him to make the hole turned bigger. Her eyes widen. Excitedly helping to push around and a door with the size of adult person opened.
"Where does this goes?" she asked.
"Shh," he shushed her, before speaking in random gibberish.
**"Who are you talking to?"**she asked curiously.
"I said shh," he softly shushed her again.
She stayed quiet, before she got in shock a group of leather jacket-ed boys coming around us.
"Who are they?" she said underneath her breath.
"The night's boys. My new friends," he smirks and talk to them in gibberish she couldn't understand. The boys nodded and smiles, and two of them letting out their hands towards her.
"They are pretty gentleman, take their hands," he warned her. She nodded, taking their hands and follow them walking through a small part of the town she never neither heard or seen before.
They walk pretty quietly, it was until the point that it was very odd for someone who walks that quiet. But she didn't comment anything and just following them. He didn't seem to care either, so that what makes her kept going and following them quietly.
They brought them to a small bunker, it smells odd, like rotten egg. Which wasn't something she would love, but she didn't mention it anyway, in fear that they will harm her. Although he said they aren't necessarily bad, but there's no reassurements that they won't harm her if she did anything.
"What makes you think they're safe?" she whispered under her breath once they reach the bunker and the boys that holds her hand lef them both alone on the lip of the bunker. "And what makes you think this is the best place?" she looked around.
"I have known their leader, and if we didn't let them lend a helping hand-" he turned his whole body around to meet her eyes. "we're doomed."
"But what's the point of bring us here?" she squeaked.
"Because we're playing this another round game of escaping from our drunk abusive parents. And you should be happy we have a place to stay rather sleep through the night ine that old building," he answered in relaxed state. The opposite of her freak out state, he seems so calm and knowing the situation they were in.
They stayed there for a whole ten minutes before a boy came up to them.
"Leader says you can stay here for the night," he simply says before walking away. Just about the time she wanted to ask where they should sleep or at least things like blanker or else, he stopped her on the track. Making her rethink of things, what should she expect them to have for sleeping? They're already in luck they won't eat them for late dinner/early breakfast.
They found a crook of bunker that was cleaner than the rest of the cold tiles. She cuddled herself while he stayed up brightly. Playing with a razor blade in his wrist without her noticing. He wanted nothing than escaping the reality, having drunken abusive parents, wandering the town in order to escape them at night, he just wanted a better life for him and her little sister he used to hate.
When he was a kid, he thought when his little sister was born, his abusive parents will chose her rather than him, and he will suffer alone while his sister took all of the caring loving parents whatsoever he craved so much. But when he first seen her walking with tears in her eyes and blood slid down her cheek, he knows that she will suffered the same, without love and care. So he started to learn to love her, giving her something they both supposed to recieve.
They went school, of course. Being a normal kid, when at night they turned to a complete rebel mode. They don't steal or get drunk underage, they just ran around the town, making friends with rebel, and knowing their lifestyle. They sometimes annoy pedestrians when they got bored, just whistling at them, and escape their parents once more. They played a little game to escape their parents every night, and everytime they didn't get caught, they will celebrate it by giving eachother a simple treat of a bite of cupcake, from the money they recieved for working with random people needed help around the town. But they needed more than that, they need enough money just to escape the town, or country maybe, to live and to be themselves without fear.
The morning quickly approached, without him having any sleep, and she woke up pretty quickly. He turned to her, gesturing to her they have to ran from the bunker as soon as the sun rise up. She nodded and balanced herself on her own two feet and ran outside with him. It was Sunday, so they walked and wandered around the town some more in the bright daylight.
"You know, maybe I should go out of town, look for money some more, and maybe we could live away from this town," he said.
"You mean, you will leave the town? Leaving me alone?" she stopped her track and looking to him deadly in the eyes.
"No-not like that. It's just a quick one, once I got some work and I'll bring you as well," he simply said.
"Where should I go for safe if you leave? What will happen to you?" she asked.
"I know a friend- he was very kind and I'm pretty sure his sister wouldn't mind having someone to share nail polishes," he nodded.
"That wasn't the point. I don't want to be away from you. Why can't you just bring me already?" she said in the edge of patience.
"That wasn't the point either. They were very lovely and kind. And I can't bring you because the money wasn't going to be enough for both of us," he said coldly.
"I don't care about money. You are my only family. No one's my family here except you," she said, tears started falling from her eyes.
"But he could be family, he could be a part of us with his sister," he said.
"But I don't want to," she said.
"Well, you should, if you want to live better than these," he said.
"I don't care about these! I just needed you to be around, not far from me, that's what you did every day in our lives!" she fought.
"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH IT TORTURES ME! YOU DON'T KNOW!" he yelled. She was in shock, but he didn't noticed that. "It wasn't easy."
"Oh- you thought I'm just a doll? Yeah, fine, okay. You can leave! Leave this town! Never come back! I will find a way to not starve myself and not being YOUR TORTURER!" she yells back and ran away.
He froze in his place. Realizing what he has done. "Stop! Willa! Stop!" he yanked forward and ran to catch her. But she ran faster than him, and he never found his Willa again. She escapes out of his grip just like that.
The next day, he finalize his choice. If he could get successful, he could have the chance to meet his sister. And maybe he could get his wish out of the town. So he left using the leftover money he had in his pocket, and he left with a train out the town, without saying goodbye to her.
She quietly watched him get to the train with only a dream and wish from behind a wall in the station. She wanted to ran and hug him, saying sorry, gave him a proper goodbye. But she doesn't have the courage to do that. So she just stood there, hidden, with tears streaming down her face. Her knees trembling and she doesn't even sure if she will be strong enough to hold her weight. She slides down and kneeling on the cold floor underneath, while the train that her brother took already drove away. Now she doesn't have someone to seek comfort with.
She walked around the town like a ghost. She knew exactly this 'friend' her brother meant. A house just down the block, not a really big house, they only live together for two, even the house enough for 4 people, because their parents mostly doing their jobs outside the country. With trembling hands and salty tears on her lips, she raised her hand and pressed the bell.
A girl around 20 years old opened the door. She has long dark hair, and she wasn't even shocked seeing the teen in front of her parents' house. The girl opened her arms widely and she just broke there inside her warm and welcoming arms.
"He really left, doesn't he?" the girl asked softly. She nodded.
"I'm sorry," the girl said.
"Nothing's to be sorry about," she croaked. The girl smiled.
"You can live here for the rest of your life," the girl softly said.
And she lives there for years. Living her life together with the girl and her brother, they tried to contact her brother for years, until a bit over a month ago, their hard work paid off.
They got his number. When she already engaged to her brother's friend. They finally connected. On their last phone call, he promised somthing she never got. Something he broke.
"Hello lil' sis," his voice heard at the end of the line.
"Hi," she held back tears of happinness.
"I heard you've been engaged to Carl? See, he will be a part of us eventually," he giggled.
"Yeah, you were right years ago. We never said proper see you later on the train station," she said.
"Yes, I'm sorry. But I'll be home soon, seeing my lil' sis got married with my friend," he sighed.
"I missed you," she croaked.
"I missed you too. Been looking for these kind of day when you just talk to me," he said.
"My wedding will be in a month," she said. "Think you could come a few weeks earlier? Want to bought wedding gown."
"Yeah, anything else?" he giggled.
"Think you could stop working outside the town for me?" she asked.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.
"Yeah, you could work around here, or on Carls' even," she shrugged.
"Of course," he laughed. Oh how she missed the laugh. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She smiled before hanging up. But he never came tomorrow, the next day, or else. She never met him again.
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jobrosupdates · 5 years
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The Jonas Brothers Are Getting Used to Being Interviewed Again | VICE
We met the brothers in a deserted London bar, to talk about the past decade and how they finally care enough about pop music to return to it.
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The Jonas Brothers don’t know where to sit. We’re standing in a cordoned-off area in the sort of central London bar that resembles the results of a greenhouse and fancy department store’s brief fling. The three siblings eye up four identical green, lip-shaped couches in each corner of the room. “Maybe we should take one each and just shout at each other,” Joe says with a grin.
I laugh nervously, hoping he’s not serious, before suggesting that he and his older brother, Kevin, plop themselves on one sofa, while Nick, wearing a very noisy jacket made of plastic, makes himself comfortable on a red stool. Kevin settles in first, but not before moving four slightly lukewarm coffees onto a low table.
Joe seems buoyant; the other two not so much. “I got some good rest last night, so I'm doing pretty good,” he says, picking up a cup and taking a sip. “I don't know if they got the most amount of sleep. But I had a massage at the hotel and it just put me in a deep, deep sleep.” When I glance at Nick, his face is blank. He doesn’t seem as impressed with his brother’s gentle gloating.
Still, six years ago you might’ve thought that the Jonas Brothers wouldn’t ever trade brotherly jibes with each other in front of a music journalist again. But here they are, promoting their first album in ten years, Happiness Begins. In the US, its lead single, “Sucker” became not only their first Billboard Hot 100 number 1, but the first from a boyband in the US since B2K's "Bump, Bump, Bump" in 2003 ("Sucker" peaked at 4 on the UK charts). They’ve also announced a world tour, done the requisite carpool karaoke – they’re back back.
A newer band might be climbing the walls with excitement at such success. The JoBros, however, have been through this rigmarole of travel, promo, album, tour before. Not that they’re fully jaded – they tell me how happy they are that people still give shit about them – but, rather, they’re reserved. And given what they’ve been through over the past decade, I get it. Happiness might now be beginning, but it’s been difficult to find. A little hesitation is natural.
Now, for the story every super-fan already knows. After starting small, as a teen pop punk act in 2005, the band signed to Disney’s Hollywood Records in 2006 and immediately blew up. In the US, they were the teen pop phenomenon of the late 00s, starring in sitcoms, movies and selling millions of records. But slogging it as poster boys for Disney purity for seven years can leave you in pop purgatory, unable to evolve. In 2013, when they released “Pom Poms”, it was clear that the band had failed to mature with their fans. The song stalled at number 60 on the Hot 100, while its follow up, “First Time”, failed to chart in the UK overall.
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Not that they seemed that bothered by that commercial plummet. What they had was broken and when I ask if they were disappointed that the rest of that material never got released, Joe and Kevin both give off something between a huff and a grim laugh. “Truth is, we weren't really happy with the material and didn't feel like we were artistically in sync,” Nick says quickly, his jacket crinkling as he sits forward on his stool. “It’s one of the reasons the group ended. And we were isolating ourselves and limiting our creative potential because we didn't know if we could really progress.”
"I think we were all in such different places,” Joe adds. “Kevin was starting his life with [his wife] Danielle. Nick and I were in and out of relationships. We'd get in the studio and we couldn't land on anything lyrically. I wasn't as inspired to be in there. It kind of felt like I was just going through the motions and I knew that the music would be created” no matter what, with or without passion. “So I'd come in when I was needed. I just wasn't connecting with what we were creating.”
Why not get new writers, you might ask? Well, the Jonas Brothers’ involvement in the writing process felt, to them, fundamental. Sure, their breakthrough hit was a cover of a Busted song, but “Burning Up”, “SOS”, “Love Bug” and “A Little Bit Longer” were legitimately strong pop songs, and their own. Anyway, their lack of musical progression had incubated a fear of rejection. “Knowing that things were on the decline,” Nick says, “I was afraid that we would ask to work with someone and they would say no.” Panicked, he called a meeting and in 2013, mid-way through recording a new record, he broke up the band.
The next bit is well-trodden. Nick buffed up, posed in his underwear and released one of the greatest post-boyband pop songs of all time, “Jealous”. Joe joined dance pop group DNCE. Kevin retreated into family life. He had two children, Alena in 2014 and Valentina two years later. It wasn’t that simple, though. “I didn't even know if I wanted to do music again,” Joe says now. The air isn’t tense but sombre and Nick’s eyes are cast to the floor. “I had to find my own place. I went on and worked on different projects, but it took time to get inspired. Nick had that all figured out. I just didn’t.”
Meanwhile, Kevin says that he was hurt. Joe and Nick had performed as the Jonas Brothers at a final gig without him and, after the birth of his first child, he felt like he didn’t have his best friends. “It's not that I said that I didn't want to do music anymore, but I think, looking back at it, there was some pain there. So I wanted to look at some other passions of my own and see what else was out there.”
As they talk, each brother is careful to allow the other to share their piece. Nick especially is quiet, often faced away from his brothers examining something off in another corner of the room. They’re respectful, almost detached, as if they’ve plodded through that murky period with the wounds, scars and wariness to prove it. The last six years, the brothers tell me, was about rediscovering their relationships as a family. Once Kevin's kids brought them together, “We made time where we could just rebuild as friends," Joe says," not even bring up anything music-related. We didn't really dive into that stuff. We just said, 'Let's just move on.'” Moving on, in this case, involved making 90-minute documentary, Chasing Happiness.
“It seems like a jump,” Joe agrees when I put it to him, before Nick cuts him off for the first time.
“We were made aware of some offers that were coming in for a Jonas Brothers reunion,” he says, carefully. “There was one at that point which could have made sense. Kevin flew out to LA and we talked through it but not everyone was on board.” He eyes Joe. “But it opened up a dialogue about what we could do together, to touch on that period of our lives.” Nick and Kevin flew to go and meet Joe while he was acting as a coach on The Voice Australia. Aside from a dinner in London a year prior, that meeting was the first chunk of time the three brothers had together, just as a trio. Nick, though, hankered after a reunion. And so, like any responsible adults, they decided a play a game where they got drunk and aired out their grievances to figure out their shit. It worked.
After ironing out the details, the Jonas Brothers were soon recording music as a group again, pulling in pop producer and writer names with the weight of a few tonnes: Max Martin, Shellback, Justin Tranter, Greg Kurstin and Ryan Tedder (Tedder executive produced the album). For Kevin, though, it was a learning curve. In the six years he’d been out of the game, a lot had changed. Session writing, streaming and the way that digital communication has opened up the songwriting process has altered not only how people make music, but how they consume it. “There's been so many times where I've asked them, 'Is this a good metric to look at?'” he says, almost sheepishly, “Streaming wasn't really a thing. The way, dynamically, you work with your label, to pretty much all of it has changed.”
Thankfully, the music on Happiness Begins is really good. “I Believe”, which Nick wrote with Kurstin, sits between “Jealous” and the slick romance of “Hold On We’re Going Home”, while “Every Single Time”, a reggae-lite bop produced by Tedder, could easily have belonged to DNCE. And unlike a lot of current pop, you really can’t imagine anyone else singing a song like “Only Human”, a wonky horn-filled track that, when pushed, could be described as baby’s first foray into ska, or lead single “Sucker”, that grabs those Jonas power chords and drags them into 2019. It’s the Jonas Brothers on a molecular level.
I catch their publicist waving at me to wrap things up. The band have a photoshoot next and then they’re playing an intimate gig for fans. But as we all stand up and exchange pleasantries, I tell them I’m glad that they’ll finally be able to spend a holiday like Thanksgiving together as friends. They all pause and look at each other awkwardly. “We do have a day off and we'll be in the New Jersey area,” Kevin says. “We could go to your house?” Nick asks. I turn to Joe. “Oh, we have no idea,” he shrugs. “We're still bandmates at the end of the day. We're just trying to figure it all out.” And with that they file out of the room.
Source: VICE
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coffee-n-some-cream · 5 years
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Raph hadn’t been in New York City for six years. He had been living amongst the plains of an Ohio ranch since he was fifteen years old, surrounded by nothing but open space and still feeling trapped. The minute he was old enough and had enough money, he shoved everything he needed into one compact suitcase, hugged his dad and brothers goodbye, promised to call, then hopped on his bike and made the drive to his shabby little Brooklyn apartment.
Something about NYC sang in tune with Raph. When his dad had moved them out to Ohio, an attempt to give them a better life away from rising crime rates and troublesome biological families, Raph had felt like an uprooted tree. Ripped from where he was meant to be, transplanted in new soil that was never quite right. Always just a little malcontent. But here, back where he had been born and raised, something clicked into place.
And nothing was quite as ‘New York City’ as this guy named Casey Jones. In the mornings, Casey worked at a roller-skating rink, corralling sugar-high children and sneaking his little sister’s friends in through the back. At night, Casey hung out on fire escapes with a hockey stick strapped to his back, waiting for muggers to come along and do something stupid. Sometimes, after a good beatdown, he would grab a few beers. The first time Raph met him, they were on opposite sides of the bar at Merry Dog Pub. The guy’s skin was peppered with bruises, his nose was broken, he was yelling everything he said, and he was very, very drunk. Raph was closing down the joint, telling him over and over again, “We’re closing, dude, go home.”
Casey ended up sleeping on Raph’s couch that night. It was a difficult thing to maneuver, that was for sure, but Raph had things under control. He managed to sit him upright on his bike and tie his wrists together around his waist so he wouldn’t fall off, then he practically carried him up the stairs to his apartment. By the time he had a pillow under his head and a blanket over his body, the guy was asleep. Raph took that opportunity to treat some of the worst cuts on his face, but that nose was busted for good.
By the time Casey woke up the next morning, Raph was making breakfast in the kitchen.
“Hello?” Casey called, and Raph leaned out of the kitchen to look at him.
“Hey,” he said.
He got a squint in return. “Wait, aren’t you that… bartender?”
“Yep. How’s your face?”
The guy groaned. “Bad. Very bad.” He touched one hand to his face, winced, then touched it more. “Dude, did I go to the hospital last night?”
“Nope. I fixed you up last night after you passed out.” Raph returned to his scrambled eggs and guided them onto a couple plates with toast. He certainly didn’t owe the guy breakfast, but his dad had raised him to be polite, and if this random dude wasn’t a total liar (which he probably was), he had gotten all those bruises from taking on some gangbangers last night. Which was something Raph could get behind. He flicked off the stove, grabbed the plates, and walked over to the couch. The guy eyed the breakfast plate that Raph held out to him for a moment before taking it and shoving the toast in his mouth. “You don’t remember anything, do you?”
He paused and scrunched up his face. Then he looked at Raph. “Wait, did we fuck?”
Raph scoffed. “No. You were drunk off your ass. You wouldn’t leave or tell me your address. I was tired, so I just took you back with me.”
“I’ve been drunk at closing time in that pub before. Vinny just shoved me outside and closed up. Woke up on a park bench.”
“Well, you’re lucky it was me on shift and not Vinny.”
“Huh.” Casey finished his toast and started shoveling the eggs in. “That’s cool of you. Band-aids and breakfast and all that. You sure we didn’t fuck?”
“Yeah.” Raph pointed at him with a piece of half-eaten toast. “And you can repay me for all that by never getting drunk in my pub again.”
Casey shrugged. “No promises, nice bartender dude.”
“I’m not nice.”
“I’m Casey Jones, by the way.”
Raph shook his head. “Raph.”
  Casey decided to do the exact opposite of what Raph asked – he showed up at the bar every other night after crashing on Raph’s couch. Sometimes to grab a drink and chat, sometimes to ask for a bit of medical attention “whenever your shift ends, no hurry, I’m just bleeding out over here,” and sometimes these visits ended with Casey getting a little too tipsy to get himself home and him staying the night at Raph’s place. Because every time he did, it was super late and Raph didn’t want to drive him all the way to the edge of the Bronx where the guy lived.
At some point, Casey collapsed into Raph’s bed instead of his couch. Then he kept doing it, sometimes when he wasn’t even drunk. The first time, Raph’s instinct was to literally kick him off the bed, but then Casey crawled back up and they made out, so he let him stay. And Raph kept making breakfast for them every morning. And on the nights when Casey didn’t stop by for a drink, he showed up at the end of Raph’s shift to accompany him home. They started hanging out on their days off. They started watching TV together. Casey would ask him if he wanted to check out a new pizza joint down the street. One evening before work, Casey asked him to help him out in a synch and pick up his little sister from school. Then he met his dad at the 4th of July fireworks. And they both liked him.
Summer in Brooklyn turned to Autumn in Brooklyn, five months passing by in a blur of bartending shifts and late nights spent with Casey Jones. Then, one evening, Leo called.
“So what’re you doing right now, anyway?”
Raph glanced into the kitchen where Casey was microwaving popcorn for their paused X-files marathon. He had promised to spend the night in after showing up the day before with a particularly gut-wrenching bullet graze on his ribs. “Nothing, just watching TV. Jones is here right now, too.”
“Hm. You’ve been hanging out with Mr. Jones a lot lately.”
Raph frowned, because he could hear the smile in Leo’s voice. “Yeah? I guess. Not really. Don’t call him that, it’s weird.”
“I’m just glad you made a friend.” Raph could hear kitchen utensils clanking in the background as Leo prepared dinner. “Honestly, I was afraid you’d get there and spend all your time alone. You were kind of a loner in school, yanno?”
“Okay, you can stop being a mother any time, Leo.” That got a rueful chuckle.
“Hey, you’re coming for Thanksgiving, right?”
Raph tapped the TV remote against his knee and watched Casey lean against the counter and eat popcorn while pretending not to listen to Raph’s end of the conversation. “Uh, Thanksgiving.” Casey glanced at him. “Yeah, I was planning on it. Why?”
“Just checking.”
“Is he coming?” Mikey’s voice registered through the phone as he yelled from the other room.
“Yes!” Leo yelled back. “I’m on the phone, be polite!”
“It’s just Raph!”
Raph chuckled, his chest suddenly aching with how long it had been since he’d seen his littlest brother. “Hey, say ‘hi’ to those two goofballs for me, will ya? Dad, too.”
“Of course. I always do, even when you don’t ask me to.” Leo paused a moment, then said, “Hey, why don’t you ask Casey if he wants to come for Thanksgiving?”
“Leo, he has family here. Pretty sure he’s planning on spending it with them.” Raph cocked an eyebrow at Casey, who was openly staring at him now.
“No, I know, I just think it would be polite to offer. Hold on.” The ridiculously loud sound of a pot of boiling water and pasta being poured into a colander filled the phone for a moment. “Okay, sorry. I mean, you’ve known him for a while, and I’m assuming that means he’s nice, and he’s the first nice friend you’ve made since… Well. He’s the first nice friend you’ve made.”
Raph rolled his eyes. His childhood friend, whom he had affectionately nicknamed Spike, had turned into a massive, sometimes violent dick as they grew older. He ended up having to cut him out of his life entirely and it had sucked. A lot. Donnie had once suggested that the whole thing had stunted Raph’s ability to form relationships, which explained why he never made any friends afterward, and Raph had immediately told him to shut the fuck up and never speculate about his emotional health again. “Okay, you know what? I’ll ask him just so that he can say ‘No,’ and I can repeat that back to you.”
“Alright, thanks!” He could hear that smile in his voice again, and he hated it.
Casey plunked himself back down on the couch after Raph hung up, squinting at him and not offering him popcorn.
Raph reached out and snapped his fingers, refusing to sit up from his slouch. “Popcorn in the middle. You know the rule.”
Casey didn’t move. “Did I just get invited to Thanksgiving at your family’s Ohio ranch?”
Raph kept his stone-cold wall of nonchalance up, but his stomach sank with the realization that this was going to become a conversation. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Leo’s like that.”
Casey shoved a few pieces of popcorn in his mouth and ignored Raph’s glare as he continued to hold the bowl in his lap. “Okay, I accept his invitation.”
Raph felt every muscle in his body tense. Casey raised his eyebrows. The seconds ticked by as Raph didn’t speak, didn’t move, probably didn’t even breathe.
“Dude.”
Raph took in a deep breath and looked away. His hands were suddenly shoved underneath his arms, and his jaw ached from how tense it was.
“Dude.” Casey put the bowl on the floor and scooched closer. “Chill out. Christ. It’s just Thanksgiving, it’s a few days.”
Raph just shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about this right now. “Your old man been pissing you off lately or something? What’s wrong with Thanksgiving with your family?”
Casey put his hands in the air. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Raph. You’ve met my entire family, my sister texts you regularly, my dad has your number in case the car breaks down again! My coworkers have stopped asking if we’re still together and started asking when you’re gonna move in!”
Raph choked on his own spit. “What?”
“Chill out, they’re just stupid.” He rubbed at his eyes with the fingers that didn’t have popcorn butter on them. “Just, we’ve been doing this for what, five months? Give or take?”
Raph shrugged and decided to lie. “I haven’t been counting.”
Casey rolled his eyes. “I haven’t spoken to a single member of your family. Except for that one time Mikey yelled ‘hi’ to me over the phone and I yelled ‘hi’ back. Which was cool, but not exactly what I’d call meeting him.”
“So?”
“So I want to meet them!” He reached over and shoved hard at Raph’s shoulder. “It’s fuckin’ weird that I haven’t! Everyone thinks so!”
“Who’s everyone?”
“And it would be different if you hated them, but I know you would fucking commit murder for any one of them, so that’s not it. And I’m pretty sure they think it’s weird that they haven’t met your boyfriend yet!” He folded his arms. “So I’m going to Thanksgiving.”
Raph looked away and didn’t say anything.
“Raph.”
He shook his head. He looked out the window.
“Raph.” Casey ran his hand through his hair. “Do they know I’m your boyfriend?”
Raph scoffed like he was about to say something snarky, but then didn’t say anything.
“Oh, for fuck’s – Raph.”
“They know you exist-“
“-yeah, obviously-“
“-they just don’t know that when I tell them we’re hanging out, that half the time we’re-“
“-putting our hands in each other’s pants?”
Raph put his hand over his face and stopped talking. Casey let him sit like that for a while.
“Do they even know you like guys?”
Raph sighed. “No, not really. Mikey might, I don’t know. I never told anyone.”
“Okay, why didn’t you just tell me that?”
“I don’t know, because it’s kind of fucked up that your dad told me to ‘call him whenever I need anything,’ but my dad doesn’t even know we’re dating! Because I’m twenty-one years old and living on my own, so it’s kind of pathetic that I can’t just tell my family I like guys when you’ve already introduced me to yours! Because it’s stupid!”
Casey grabbed Raph’s wrist. “Dude, stop, I won’t go to Thanksgiving, okay? I wouldn’t have pushed if I knew it was a big deal.”
“It’s not!”
Casey huffed out a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh. “Oh yeah, it is. But I’m not gonna make you come out to your family just because I came out to mine already. That would be fucked up. Just don’t worry about it, I’ll go next year.” He paused. “If you’ve told them by then.”
Raph peeked at him from beneath his hand. “No, that’s – that’s stupid. I need to tell them, I’ve been meaning to, I just- I don’t know.” Casey pulled the hand from Raph’s face and held it. “Come to Thanksgiving. Meet them. I’ll tell them.”
“Dude, don’t do it if you’re not feeling it.”
“Nah, I’m gonna.”
“We could go, but just be friends while we’re there,” he offered.
“Ugh. No. That’s…” Raph shook his head. “That would be the worst. No way.” He looked from their hands, clasped together in his lap, to Casey’s gaze. “Besides, I do want them to meet you. Even if I know that Donnie’s gonna tear apart your get-rich-quick schemes, and Dad’s gonna hate your table manners.”
Casey cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not making me less nervous to meet the family, Raph.”
“And Leo is gonna tell you all about how dangerous motorcycles are while trying to make it sound like a pleasant conversation.”
“Raph, seriously.”
“But Mikey is gonna love you.”
Casey snorted. “Gee, can’t wait.” He gave Raph a lazy grin.
Raph smiled back, and for a moment, they just sat, holding each other’s hands, and watched each other.
“Now give me the popcorn.”
“It’s almost finished, but okay.”
“Then go make more.”
Casey sighed and got up from the couch to microwave another bag.
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Thanksgiving (Tom Holland Smut)
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request: “could u do a tom imagine where hes dating the reader and shes bi ? and when he first found out, he was like intimidated but then he finds it like sexy lol make him react how u think he would” (requested by anon)
short summary: you take tom home for thanksgiving and when the topic of past relationships comes up things get a bit :/
length: 3.9k words
warnings: tbh the smut’s just like at the end there’s lots of plot stuff and shit so
A/N: i lowkey didn’t know how to go about this, bc i didn’t want to write something that would come across as tom fetishizing the reader’s bisexuality bc i’m bi and i hate when i read stuff like that so anyway this was the result, idk if this is the direction u wanted but uh here we go
Your mom & sister had been hounding you for almost two months to come home and also bring your boyfriend so they could properly meet him for the first time. It’s not as if you didn’t want them to meet Tom, it’s just that he’s been busy and frankly so had you. And when the two of your schedules aligned with a break, dragging him back to your hometown wasn’t exactly your top priority.
But when Thanksgiving rolled around and your university had given you a break, you knew you had to go home. And once you’d mentioned it to Tom, he got excited to come with you since he’d have some time off between projects. Once you told your mom and sister, they were over the moon.
The two of you were currently standing outside of your childhood home, hand in hand. You’d been standing out in the cool autumn air for almost 10 minutes. You didn’t know whether you should just walk right in like you used to, using the spare key under the potted plant, or knock. 
“It’s your home, darling, just walk right in,” Tom said with a slight laugh, balancing the small pie the two of you had baked earlier in the day. You were almost dreading going inside, but you knew he was right. 
“I guess so,” you said with a sigh. You put your hand on the door knob, but hesitated yet again. “You’re sure you want to do this?” you asked him, for probably the millionth time.
“Of course, I have to meet the people responsible for creating you. We’ve been dating for almost 7 months, I feel weird having not ever met your parents or other family members before. It’s like you were hiding me,” he joked. You slapped his arm.
“You know I wasn’t hiding you, I was just saving you from being ripped apart by my crazy blood relatives,” you said with a grimace. With that, you opened the door, kicked off your shoes, and announced your arrival.
“Mom? Me and Tom are here!” you yelled as loud as you could. You first heard the sound of paws against the hardwood floors, and your pug came into the room excitedly, almost tripping over his own adorable, stubby feet.
“Bucky!” you yelled with a smile on your face. You got on your knees and opened your arms for him to jump into, but he instead went straight for Tom, almost knocking the cherry pie he was holding out his hands. You frowned as he showered your boyfriend’s face with appreciative licks.
“How is it that my own dog is more excited to see you than me? He’s never even met you,” you inquired out loud. Tom just gave you a smirk.
“What can I say? I’m Spider-Man. Spider-Man can do anything, including charming dogs.” he said cockily as Bucky retreated and ran towards the kitchen. You rolled your eyes.
“Y/N? Is that you?” your mother called from close by. Moments later she came into view with a bright grin on her face. “Finally, you’ve come home!” she quickly embraced you in a hug before taking a look at Tom. “And you must be the boyfriend my daughter has been hiding from us!”
Tom laughed charmingly with your mother at your own expense. You glared at them both. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Y/L/N, I’m Tom.” he said with an infectious smile.
Your mom gave you an approving nod as he looked him up and down, stopping at the pie in his hands. “Such a sweetheart,” she commented appreciatively. “Welcome, Tom, and thank you for this delicious smelling pie!”
“It was no trouble at all, Y/N and I whipped it up together, it’s my grandmother’s recipe actually. We only use it for special occasions.”
“Well I cannot wait to taste it,” your mom said, positively beaming at the creation. “The rest of the family is outside in the back with the food, we’ll start eating in the next hour or so,” your mom explained momentarily. She made her way out back while you hesitated for a moment.
Sounds of laughter and merriment continuously emanated from the back of the house. You interlocked Tom’s hand in yours.
“Time to meet the family,” you muttered. Tom gave your hand a reassuring squeeze and kissed your knuckles.
“Shouldn’t I be dreading this more than you?” he asked teasingly. You shook your head.
But you had absolutely nothing to be worried about. Tom charmed everyone he met, including your grandparents, cousins, uncles, aunts, and anyone who had a conversation with him that afternoon.
It was almost as if there was nothing to dislike about Tom, and he knew how to interact with every type of person to make them love him almost as much as you did. He was able to entertain all your little cousins but keep up with the banter of your older relatives. Your dog, Bucky, was constantly by his side almost everywhere he went. Throughout dinner he managed to fit in as if he had been part of the family for ages, and you couldn’t have been happier.
By the time you made it to dessert, everyone was lingering in different places of the yard, various conversations flowing. You and Tom were sitting on the porch swing talking to your sister while eating your respective slices of cherry pie.
“This pie is fantastic,” your sister said, shock painting her features. “Did Y/N help bake this because she is a literal mess in the kitchen,” your slightly younger sister asked Tom. The two of them laughed at your expense, a trending theme that seemed to be overtaking the evening.
“Shut up, Y/S/N, you’re the one who almost burned the kitchen down last year.” That shut her right up.
“She really did help, and she was very cute while focusing on the measurements to make sure it was perfect, if I do say so myself,” he said, giving you an adoring look. Your sister awed.
“I literally haven’t seen Y/N this happy since she was dating Fiona,” she mentioned off handedly. Your head snapped up, you trying to silently tell your sister to stop talking.
“Fiona?” Tom asked curiously, cocking his head at your sister. She nodded and kept talking, completely ignoring your look of distress. 
“Yeah they dated for like a year and a half in high school, completely inseparable. It was gross how much they loved each other but at the same time any normal person would be jealous of the type of relationship they shared.”
At this point Tom was merely poking at his pie, no longer having the appetite to eat it. Your sister didn’t seem to notice and continued to fill him in on your past relationship.
“It was a pretty big shock when Y/N broke up with her, I remember our mom was actually crying for like a week because we all loved her around here so much. And to this day I still don’t know why they even broke up,” she finished.
“I think I need to go the bathroom,” Tom got out after a few moments of silence. He carefully placed his unfinished pie on the table next to the table and hurried into the house.
“Tom,” you sighed exasperatedly as he quickly excused himself and went inside. You gave your sister a pointed glare.
“Did he not know that you’re bi?” she asked, confusion painting her features. You ignored her, then hurried after your boyfriend to follow him inside. She merely gave you a shrug, but you were already long gone by the time she did.
“Please, wait, Tom,” you called after him as you made it into the house. It was very quiet considering the rest of your family was out in the backyard enjoying some desserts after the fulfilling Thanksgiving meal. “Just wait a second!”
He continued to ignore you as he wandered into the kitchen, realizing he didn’t know where anything else in your house was. “I’m just going to the bathroom, Y/N,” he said unconvincingly. You saw right through his lie.
Before you could call him out, he picked a hall to walk down and opened the first door he came to. It wasn’t the bathroom, but a hallway closet where your mom kept extra blankets and coats. As he moved to close the door, you dragged him and yourself inside and closed the door. 
“Would you just tell me what’s wrong?” you asked softly, taking a seat on the floor. Tom sat down next to you and let out a sigh.
“I don’t know, why don’t you ask your girlfriend that your family seems to adore. Maybe you should be dating her instead of me if you loved her so much and your family still loves her so much,” he ranted while giving you a look of discontent.
“Loved. As in past tense! As in she and I have been done for ages. She’s just a past girlfriend,” you fired back. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Tom it’s not a contest,” you said with annoyance. “I dated her my senior year of high school and we haven’t even talked since graduation, which by the way was two years ago. God, you’re literally jealous of a relationship that doesn’t even exist anymore, why do you always do this?” you ranted. He had been the same way when he heard about the boyfriend you had during your first year of college, it’d taken you 3 days to get him to calm down, his insecurities getting the better of him.
“Damn it, I know that, Y/N, but I just...I’ve never really done this before, okay? This my first real...serious relationship,” he mumbled quietly. A moment of silence fell over the room, the only sounds being the faint music from the backyard permeating the walls of the closet.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever loved, romantically. Well, er, love. Present tense,” he clarified awkwardly, looking at the wall in front of the two of you. You’d never seen Tom this vulnerable before, looking almost...ashamed. 
Here you were, thinking that he was being a prick about you dating a girl, but he was just nervous. It was glaringly clear now you’d been in more relationships than he had, but it never really seemed that way based on how he carried himself and acted. You put both of your hands on his cheeks and looked him in the eye.
“I love you Tom. And only you. And no girl or guy I may have dated in the past is going to change that. Okay?”
“Okay.” he replied meekly, a small blush on his cheeks. The two of you fell into another bout of silence, but more comfortable this time. After a few minutes, Tom spoke up again.
“Maybe okay will be our always,” he said with a small smug look on his face. You slapped him in the arm and glared at him.
“Okay, Augustus Waters, no need to get all fake deep on me here.”
“You know you love it,” he said teasingly, giving you a messy kiss on the cheek. You shrugged him off and wiped your cheek.
“I absolutely do not,” you said, trying to hold a serious expression on your face. Two seconds later you were a giggling mess, and Tom joined you. As your laughs subsided, you put your head on his shoulder. He pulled you closer, humming in content as one of his hands wrapped around your waist, the other around your inner part of your thigh.
“I love you,” Tom said softly, starting to stroke your thigh excruciatingly slowly. You gave him a suspicious look as he pretended as if he didn’t know why you were making a face at him.
“I love you more,” you replied, kissing him softly on the column of his throat. You lifted your head to give him a soft kiss on the lips.
As you pulled away from the brief peck, he pulled you in again with his free hand for a deeper kiss. His mouth hungrily connected with yours, a renewed passion seeming to overtake both of your senses. Your mind began to spin as his tongue began to lap into your mouth.
His hand against your thigh began to move higher until he was stroking your heat through the fabric of your pants. You could feel yourself becoming breathless and particularly wet the longer he persisted, until you eventually had to break the kiss for air.
“Stand up, pretty girl,” he purred silently in your ear. You were deep in a trance and obeyed him, slowly moving your back up the wall until you were in a standing position. Tom smirked up at you as your flushed face looked down at him on his knees in front of you.
It felt like the temperature increased drastically in the tiny closest as your boyfriend began to slowly unbutton & unzip your jeans. His lip was caught between his teeth in concentration as his eyes darkened with lust at the sight of your lace underwear.
Your heart was pounding hard in your ears as he let out a shameless moan. “Did you wear these on purpose?” he asked mischievously. Your cheeks reddened as you avoided his question entirely. “It’s quite cute, but it’s gotta go. I want a taste of that pretty little pussy of yours, darling. Is that alright?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to form words as his fingers lightly traced over your core through the fabric of your underwear. You licked your lips and nodded slowly, but Tom gave you a chastising look.
“Words, honey, I need to hear you say it’s alright,” he said with a slight purr. 
“Please, Tom, I need you to taste me,” you said, barely containing the moan that spilled from your lips. He hummed appreciatively as he dragged your underwear down your legs.
“That’s what I love to hear. My beautiful girl wants me to ravish her with while her family’s practically close by, someone else could’ve wandered into the house right now. But what my girl wants, my girl gets,” he said.
You were practically dripping onto the carpet at this point, but Tom took the time to kiss up your thighs as your underwear hit the floor. 
“Did Fiona ever make you feel the way that I make you feel?” Tom asked, his voice vibrating mere inches from where you needed contact the most. His hands were gripping the skin of your ass as you reached down to entangle your fingers in his dark, curly hair. You were silent as you waited in anticipation for him to do something, anything.
“Did she, baby?” he drawled slowly, not moving his mouth as he waited for your response.
“No Tom, will you eat me out already?” you snapped impatiently. He had half a mind to do the opposite of what you wanted for your snappy tone, but he wanted it almost more than you did, so he dove right into your glorious pussy.
He began to work a steady rhythm, taking slow, bold licks from the back all the way to the front of your pussy. As he lazily worked on the shallow end, your grip on his hair tightened, causing him to tighten his grip on your ass. The two of you moaned simultaneously.
“Tom, I need more,” you almost squealed. You could feel him smirking against the lips of your pussy before he finally obliged.
“What my girl wants, my girl gets,” he stated simply before viciously attacking your clit with his tongue and teeth. He introduced two of his fingers into the mix, pumping in and out of you at a heavenly pace.
With each moan that erupted from his throat, a resounding wave of pleasure overtook your lower region. You could feel the vibrations against the walls of your pussy, adding to the almost unbearable bliss that you were already feeling. You didn’t even care that most of your relatives were nearby, you only cared about chasing your impending your release with the help of your boyfriend.
Tom began to make come hither motions with his fingers in your core while slowing the pace at which he was attacking your clit with his mouth. Everything felt heavier the slower he went, and you could feel the pit of your stomach tightening in anticipation and desperation, wanting to finally explode so you could feel the sweet relief of your orgasm.
“Is my beautiful girl ready to come?” he asked haughtily, removing his mouth from your pussy, which made a resounding popping noise. You whined at the momentary loss of contact.
“Please Tom, I can’t,” you stuttered slowly, “I need you and I need to come, now,” you begged. A slight spasm went through your core as you tried to hold in your orgasm until he gave you permission. “Please,” you begged, your voice cracking.
Tom looked up at you, his pupils blown out of proportion and your wetness was coating his mouth and chin. His hair looked wild, sprawled out in different directions thanks to your death grips. His appearance alone had you utterly wrecked. He took a moment to look you dead in the eye as he licked his lips, groaning at your sweet taste.
“Go ahead, baby, come for me,” he said before readily diving back in, his mouth attaching itself to your clit as he worked two of his fingers in and out of you at a divine pace.
Your world felt like it came shattering down, your orgasm ripping through every part of your body. You almost lost your balance and collapsed against the wall as you came in your boyfriends mouth. You could feel some of it running down your thighs as he did his best to lap it all up.
All you could hear were the sounds of your moans and the obscene noises of him slurping and lapping at your pussy. After your orgasm was spent, Tom didn’t stop, continuing to nip and suck at your clit with a renewed vigor.
You were still sensitive and started to see spots in your vision as he continued to work at your core, the pleasure feeling like it was too much.
“T-Tom, I-I,” you stammered out slowly. “I can’t handle another,” you finished with a gasp. He immediately removed his mouth, using his fingers to wipe at his face.
“Sorry, darling, I got a bit carried away,” he said sheepishly. He put his wet fingers in his mouth for a final taste of you, his eyes closing in bliss as he licked them clean. “I love how you taste.”
You blushed madly as you finally slid down from the wall, sitting on the floor next to Tom. You didn’t bother pulling up your panties and jeans, feeling too exhausted and sensitive to do anything at all.
Tom wrapped a protective arm around you as you leaned into him, focusing on the smell of his shirt for a few minutes. You heart rate seemed to return to normal, as did Tom’s. You could see him sporting half a hard on in his pants, but neither of you said or did anything about it.
“I’m bisexual Tom,” you blurted, a few minutes after the silent bliss that overtook the room. You didn’t know why it came out like that, but you just felt a need to voice it out loud.
“I know,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Did you think I’d have a problem with that?”
“You were upset about...Fiona. I just didn’t know if that was why or just the fact that I shared a meaningful connection with somebody else before I met you,” you explained softly. 
“I was just jealous at the way your sister was describing the two of you,” he said, embarrassment coating his features. “Like I said, you’re my first serious relationship, but I don’t have any problem with your sexuality. Nobody should,” he said while pulling you closer to him.
“Good, because if you had a problem with that I would’ve had to break up with you right now,” you deadpanned. You weren’t kidding either, and Tom sensed that.
“I love you, darling,” he said while giving you a kiss on the forehead. You hummed in content. 
“Y/N?” you heared a muffled call of your name in the hallway. Your head shot straight up as you scrambled to get up and adjust your lower region. Your panties and jeans were still pooled around your ankles and you almost tripped over yourself.
Tom put a hand over his mouth to restrain himself from laughing at your predicament. You would’ve punched him in the arm but you were too concerned with your mother not finding you in this compromising position.
“You’d better shut the fuck up Thomas,” you hissed as you ungracefully zipped up and buttoned your pants. Your mom’s footsteps were growing nearer and you managed to try to act natural before the door to the closet opened.
“What are you two doing in here?” she asked suspiciously, eyeing the both of you. Tom reverted back to his charming self as he stood up from the floor. 
“Y/N was just helping me look for a blanket, I was getting slightly chilly outside and she offered to help me find one,” he replied smoothly, not missing a beat. Your mom looked him up and down again before nodding.
“It is getting quite chilly out, I feel like it’s more wintery than fall like outside,” your mother commented. You nodded in agreement.
“Definitely true, maybe eating outside wasn’t exactly the best idea to do in the middle of fall, verging on winter,” you joked slightly. Your mom simply shrugged.
“Well, come back and join us after you find something to keep warm with,” she said as she began to walk away. She stopped momentarily, turning around to faec the two of you.
“And Tom,” she began, “we’ve really enjoyed having you here today. I do wish that Y/N had brought you around immediately after she let it slip to me that she had a boyfriend, but we’re glad you’re here now. And you’re always welcome in this household.”
Tom looked overjoyed to have your mother’s approval and gave her a warm hug, which she immediately accepted. It took everything in you not to awe at the display in front of you, your slight fantasy of Tom being welcomed into your family with open arms being fulfilled.
“Thank you Mrs. Y/L/N,” he stated appreciatively. She gave him a grin before rejoining the festivities in the backyard.
“See, this wasn’t so bad was it?” he asked, his face looking like he wanted to let out an I told you so. You played it cool and shrugged your shoulders.
“It was alright, I guess,” you said, picking at your fingernails. Tom put a finger under your chin to make you look at him directly, your faces mere inches from each other. Just as you thought he was about to plant a kiss on your lips, he spoke instead.
“I told you so,” he gloated quietly, his eyes closed to relish in the moment. You shoved him away from you and followed your mother’s path to rejoin the rest of your family outside. You didn’t wait for Tom to catch up with you, but you were secretly smiling. Even if he was a pompous ass sometimes, he was still yours. And you loved him immensely.
permanent tag list: @searvhing @curly-haired-crisp @werido-fangirl @dreaming-of-the-lost @nightviolet @sunshine-raee @bitsyb21 @naybeirao @thespidersman @themusicorthemisery @call-me-tears @ephemereal @spooder-tom @buckysbumpkin @pvnksy @urbanstrangersfanfics @o-brienwrites @vibraniumdoritos @villagecrazypeggy @tambouriner @artsysad @makapaka11 @gaiasambuci @turtlesareradaf @hollandsucker
what did u guys think!! pls let me know!! this is like the longest fic i’ve written i think wow lol but yeah!! if you wanna be on my permanent tag list shoot me an ask and i’ll add ya!!
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monsterfanfic · 7 years
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Chapter 03: The Weekend
"You should really come with me. Monday, classes are cancelled for the random security testing that the Dean is requiring. Besides my parents would love if you came. Shelly is already excited; she talked about you the whole while we were out shopping."  Eva nodded as Kelly spoke. The words going through one ear and out the other. Regardless of what her friend said Eva wouldn't bombard them with her presence for such a personal family event. She loves Mr. and Mrs. Griffin but this wasn't the time for "pops up". 
Besides, this weekend Eva had plans.
She hoped for them, anyways.  "No.....you guys go and enjoy yourself. I'll be fine here." "Doing what? Studying for a test that's weeks away? Sounds so exciting."  "Hey! I need this 4.0 to continue if I plan to finish at NYU. And trust me, I do."  "One weekend won't kill it, Eva." 
Looking up from her biology notes, a laugh erupted from her lips as she watched Kelly sit on the overly packed traveling bag. Their parents stayed in The Hamptons. A little over 2 hours away from their dorms. If she needed anything, she could simply plan a trip back. Or better yet wear something from her closet back home. "I'll help." Hoping down off the bed, Eva went to Kelly, allowing her friend to sit still as she tried her hardest to zip the bag completely shut. Eva knew when Kelly came back that bag of clothes would be half-empty, and the rest would be replaced with newly brought ones.  "Thanks, love." Getting off, Kelly started with packing her hygiene bag, Eva went back to her bed.  The room fell into an tensed silence. Eva could tell Kelly wanted to ask more questions. Beg for her company because regardless if Eva believes it or not, Kelly could use her company even in the mist of her family being there. She and Shelly were five years apart, leaving room for a mild difference in maturity for the sisters. Besides them catching up, Shelly and Kelly wouldn’t see much of each other, because she too had convinced friends to tag along. Giving Kelly the advantage of having someone in her corner also. In fifteen minutes Eva's mind was fired and Kelly was done with her packing. She had about twenty minutes before the car taking her home would be downstairs.
"Eva are you sure?"  "I'm positive." Eva laughed, responding again.  "You know,"  Her words were cut short. The sounds of Eva's ringtone cutting her off. She shot Kelly an apologetical look before picking up the device, seeing Nicole's motherly name flash across the screen.  "Momma. Hey."  "Eva! Hey, sweetheart. How are you?" "I'm good. How are you? How's the shop going?"  Kelly rose an eyebrow before snickering and flipping the TV on while Eva leaned back against the wall behind her.  Nicole went into a full sprint on her locally owned flower shop right on the outskirts of Atlanta, Georgia. Atlanta was the one place Eva and Nicole seemed to get stable at and honestly the only reason that happened was because it was time for Eva's high school experience, and Eva begged her mom to understand that college was important to her. Eva couldn't see how she'll land herself in a commendable college without the proper years of high school.  Now that Eva's gone though, she fears that phone call when Nicole says she's moving on. Again. Eva knows her mother. It's going to happen soon.  "You should really come home this weekend Eva. Just so I can see you and see how you're really doing. Everything is moving so fast and I'm missing out on it all."  "Mom,"  "No, Eva. I'm serious. I want to see you. Maybe tonight you can get an early flight here and be back for class Monday."  "I already made plans. Kelly's parents invited me to their anniversary celebrations. I don't wanna be rude and just not show up."  The look Kelly shot Eva could've made her laugh and cringe all at the same time if it wasn’t for her mother's tearful emotions and voice. She hasn't lie to her mother in years and even then, it wasn't to this extent.  "I know, I know. But I'll see you soon. Thanksgiving break is coming up sooner than we think," Kelly laughed at Eva’s words of reassurance. It was only approaching the end September, Thanksgiving would be over a month from now.  Nicole brought it though. That's all Eva cared about. After a while, the conversation went back to normal and Eva relaxed again. Her and Nicole falling back into an easy conversation. This was the moment that Eva enjoyed. When Nicole wasn't over protective and emotional, when they were......normal. For so long Eva wanted and wished-for normality in her life. And right now, she has that feeling. It won't last long, but it's something.  "Mom, I hate to end this, but the car is downstairs." "Okay, Eva. Please call me when you get there and be safe. Tell her and her parents I said hello." "I will. I promise. Love you, Ma." "Okay. Love you too, Baby."  Then the call ended. Eva hadn't look up from her phone before pillows came flying at her. One after another until Kelly was out of options and then she was on her.  "I'm going to kill you! How dare you, bitch?"  "Girl," Eva laughed, pushing Kelly back before jumping down off her bed. "Both of you will be okay. I don't want to fly home and I don't want to hurt her feelings. So, I lied. I'm sure you've lied on me to Mrs. Patricia." "Actually," Kelly started to say, but stopped herself. They both knew the truth.  "Right." "Shut up, heffa."
Turn off your phone or don’t turn it off. Eva wasn’t sure to do. She knew turning this device off meant she would be railroaded with missed phone calls and re-run of all the same voicemails, but tonight was one night that she didn’t want to share her time with him.
Was that weird?
Eva had just meant the man, she knew nothing more than his first and last name, the type of vehicle he owed, some bedrooms and parts of his home, and that he was a “freelancer”. And while that seems to be the gist of everything. There was much to fill in. Like what’s his personality? So far, she’s figured him out as unpredictable. Whenever he’s in his head Tonio is cold, closed off. When she says his name, he brings himself out of that funk.
Nonetheless, he invited her out to dinner. Eva didn’t know if he was serious by saying she would be paying him back, but it was worth the time. The time wouldn’t be wasted. Not in her mind.
Fifteen minutes.
Eva pressed down on the on/off button until she saw the words Samsung Note 5 appear on the black screen. She dropped it in Kelly’s adorable Loewe Designer Pink Elephant Mini Bag. The pretty pink bag matched her pink bomber jacket which she paired with a pair of black ripped jeans and a simple matching cotton Fashion Nova black blouse. The last choice to be made was which shoes and the only options she was giving herself was thigh high boots or either combat boots.
Five minutes were left and quickly she flopped down on the bed, pulling up each of the four-inch heel boots up.
By the time Eva finished, time was up and she was working on being three minutes behind. Pulling on the jacket, she locked the door behind her, dropping her keys down in the bag. Outside, Tonio stood against the hood of his truck, once again, his eyes pierced to her the second she stepped out the door. Dramatically he looked down at the watch on his wrist, then back to her.
“Once again, Eva. 5 minutes.”
“I was on the phone with my mother at the time.”
Tonio rose an eyebrow, approaching her, his facial expression letting her know she that either he wasn’t buying it or she was a horrible liar.
“I’ll give you that.” He opened his arms for hug and Eva happily-complied, a smile playing on her lips as she wrapped her arms around his muscular frame. He smelled of his signature cologne, one Eva hadn’t figured out, but whatever it was, she hoped he didn’t stop wearing it. Not long as they’re together.
They let each other go for him to open the truck’s passenger door and then off to the driver side for himself. Eva tried to settle the butterflies in her stomach as he pulled out of the three parks and back into the rode of Manhattan.
“So, what do you have a taste for?” Tonio looked over his shoulder before switching lanes and moving the G Wagon truck with ease through the crowds of people.
“I don’t really care.”
Tonio looked at Eva, leaning back in his seat as he took lead in the passing lane, driving in some familiar direction, obviously not needing to ask that question in Eva’s mind.
“You sound uncertain.”
“I am, I suppose,” Eva laughed at herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s just that if I wasn’t here I’ll be eating Ramen noodles, so anything is an upgrade from that.”
“Why noodles?”
“Because that’s all we keep in the dorm. Well that and some esnacks. Besides, they only cost like a dollar or something for a 5 pack. I could eat those for the rest of my life if push comes to shove.”
Tonio cuts his eyes to her, slowing down for on-coming truck.
“Have you ever had them before?”
“Maybe as a young child. And I don’t plan on being reminded. So, please give me an idea of somewhere to eat.”
“I don’t care…anywhere you go will be fine.”
Nodding, Eva saw a hint of a smile trace his lips before, he made a turned and she saw they were heading into the city.
“That’s better.”
Tonio had his truck valet parked as he grabbed Eva’s hand to enter a small, yet obviously popular place. Eva had never been before, she’s heard of it. Mozzri’s.
There was no line, but this kind of restaurant called for invitations and reservations; no walk ins. Like them. It was Italian styled and served, Eva remembered the name from other students talking around in classes and campus.
"Do you have a reservation?" The question came from the hostess standing at the front door, looking down at a black book filled of names of reservations. "No." "Oh, I'm sorry. We're completely booked for the rest of the week."  "Look, how about you go tell your head chef East sends his regards."  Eva looked up at Tonio, raising an eyebrow, but he ignored her expression. She tugged on the hand which squeezes her, but still nothing. It took the waiter nothing short of two minutes to come back with and grab two menus.  "Sorry for the misunderstanding. It looks as if we have a table open for you two after all. Follow me." "I figured." Eva's body followed behind the host first, Tonio's hand pressed firmly to the lower part of her back as they moved around ones already sitting. Hopefully no one heard that exchange. Even Eva didn't understand what had just happened. The lone word or better yet name; East got them a seat without an blink of an eye.  The name was the one Martin referred to him as.  The one he has tattooed across his hand along with an RIP tattoo to an fellow friend or family member.  The name that he kept himself from telling her, yet knows that Eva knew of it because she was there. Eva could only figure out that the name obviously was taken serious. Something she didn't know how to response to just yet.  "Do you guys know what you want to drink?"  "Yes, a bottle of Brignac Brut Rose."  Eva took this as her queue to occupy herself with reading the menu, drinking the water or something naturally distracting. The young man waited for a second his eyes on her as if he was hesitating on asking, but eventually walked away to retrieve the drink of choice.  Eva couldn't hold back anymore and East seemed to be counting down for the moment.  "How?"  "How what, Eva?"  "How? This place is so difficult to get a reservation, let alone walk in and have a table like that. So, how?"  "I called in a favor to an old friend, he knew I would be here eventually."  "But you asked me,"  "Yeah, I did. I'm good at reading people. You included, Eva. So, while I figured I would ask and see if you had a particular taste. I knew if you didn't, we had a choice. This was that choice, sweetheart." Somewhere there was an switch because an waiter brought out the bottle of champagne, where Eva realized it was the famous Ace of Spades champagne. She knew from rappers and Kelly's experiences that the champagne would be the buck of their bill. Tonio took over the untwisting the second he placed the bottle down, filling Eva's glass to the rim first.  "Are you ready to order?"  "Yes, well," Tonio said, his eyes were on Eva. He was allowing her the chance to choose the dinner. She rose a perfectly arched eyebrow at him, an sense of an attitude spreading across her face causing him to laughed.
"The chef's tasting plates." He finished with. Putting the cap back on firmly. "His or Hers?"  "Neither."  Then they were alone again. "And that?"  "What, Eva?"  "His or her’s plates?"  "I rather the chefs not know which one is mine." "Why not?"  "Could be poisoned."  Eva laughed, the words being the last thing she expected to come from his lips. Why would someone try to harm him? She hadn't seen nothing harmful come from his end. Besides his attitude. "Tonio......" "I told you."  "You're pretty paranoid huh?" "Merely curious about what could happen. Don't trust anyone. You haven't learned that for yourself?"  "Don't you want me to trust you, East?" Eva asked, testing the waters then. He shook his head, taking the glass to his lips. Not an inch of amusement or carelessness crossing his facial features. "Don't call me that, Eva," Yep…….. "And no, sweetheart. I never asked for your trust. Just to have dinner with me."  Dinner is a four-course meal. Consisting of steak, shrimp, and roasted potatoes for the entree, salads, bread sticks, and then chocolate and strawberry deserts. Tonio has made sure to keep their flute glasses full of the champagne. The conversations have smoothly transitioned without much problem. Surprisingly they stayed on the topic of Kelly, Eva guessed the fact that Tonio brought up trust, opening the door for her friend’s credibility to be questioned. briefly Professor Martin; Eva tempted to question what he could want with her professor. But refrained from it.  "You have a big family back in Atlanta?" Tonio asked, leaning back in his seat as fingers twirled the spoon.  He hasn't touched much of his food, hadn't even drunk much of his drink. He's filling hers every chance instead.  "No," Eva laughed at the thought. Family? Big? Yeah, if big is her and her mother. "It's always been just me and my mother." "What happened to your father?"  "He was killed when I was a new born. I had an older brother named Nick but he went missing one summer and hasn't been much word of anything since. My mother believes he’s still around. I……don’t know, at this point, honestly. Maybe so. My mother is paranoid of everything because of it."  Tonio eyes stunk to her, nodding once she finished her statement. Eva didn't know if she was laying too much on him. It was only there first dinner together and she was already telling the man her life issues.  "What about you? Do you have silbings? A big family?"  "Yeah, I have a big family, most of us aren't blood related though."  Eva frowned, before nodding as understanding took over. She hears the saying a lot especially back home.  Not all family is blood related.  "Your check." The waiter sat down the black check book, Eva's nosiness taking over some as she took a look. A surprised gasp escaping from her lips as she took in the amount. Antonio laughed, pulling out a few big bills before closing them inside with the check.  "I could've eaten a like a year off that amount."  "Probably three if you stuck to your noodles, sweetheart."  "Why is it so expensive, seriously? I can cook. I'm great, matter of fact. I could've," Eva stopped herself shortly afterwards. His words from earlier about not trusting other people lingering in her head as well as the fact she barely knew this man. Why would she be cooking for him?  "Well, it was tasty, right? Even your chocolate strawberry desert? You seem to like chocolates. So, again, did you enjoy it?" "Yeah......"  "Good," He refilled her glass, draining the bottle of its peachy smooth alcohol. "We all deserve to indulge sometimes, Eva. Even you."  "Yeah? Well thank you. Again." She picked her glass, taking it to her lip as her hazel brown eyes settled on him. "You really showed out with the champagne though, Tonio. If I didn't know any better I'll think you was trying to get me drunk."  "Now why I do that?" "I don't know. I don't know much about you to be honest."  "All you have to do is ask. I'm the only one who can give you the real answers." Eva laughed at his words, sitting down her glass.  "How old are you?"  "29, you?"  "I'm 20, but I'm supposed to be asking you questions. You know me pretty well, Tonio."  "I don't know everything. You didn't tell me what you were studying in school." "Nursing, I'm going for my RN license. Are you from East Harlem?"  "Yes..." He narrowed his eyes to her, wondering silently where the question came from. "Drink up, Eva."  "Yep, you trying to get me drunk."   "No, you're alert, sweetheart. You know everything going on."  "I do......" Eva knows lust when she sees it. And right now, it's written all over Tonio’s face. "I'm young, Tonio. Not naive."  "I know, Eva,” His long finger trailing the edge of his glass.
“Is that invitation?”
Tender kisses align Eva's neck and upper shoulders. Her thighs tighten around his hips feeling the hardness of his stomach and toned body against hers.  It shouldn't have gone this far. She knew it. East probably knew it. But the second they were through his front door, that electric charge was there and it spread down to her middle, making her body loosen and her vagina wet in excitement.
Soon her clothes and ability to think about what was going on were out the way. "Antonio," It was the first time she had ever used his first name. Her soft hands trailing down his naked back, outlining the many tattoos of his body. He was so structured and divine. It almost scared her.  "Less thinking, baby. More feeling."  Then his body slipped out of her grasp and his head was in between her legs.  His tongue separating her lower lips, licking at her most intimate spot. Her nails rubbed at the scalp of his head, as her bottom lip found it place in between her teeth. Those tattooed hands of his roamed her body. From her waist to her hips. Pinning her down to the bed just to release her to find her harden nipples.  His tongue hadn't stop its exploring on her lower half. In and out. Up and down. Side to side. That's the only movement she could functionally keep track of. Tonio's low mumbles of pleasure hadn't gone ignored. Eva couldn't form words for him, but her moans were loud enough to fill that void; if there was even one. Placing a hand behind herself, Eva sat her upper half up, her eyes strictly on him as he started to suck on her clit. His soft lips placed tender kisses on her, his hands rubbing softly down her body until he was pinning one of her thighs down again. While the other hand found her pussy. Tonio smoothly slid two fingers inside her. Eva's eyes rolling back at the sensations spreading through her body. She's been sexually pleased before by a boyfriend from her high school and once from a college boy in one of her freshmen English courses.  But this? This was definitely different. Definitely more about her and her pleasure than his.  Tonio's fingers curled deep inside her, Eva's body flopping back onto the bed. His mouth found her clit, his tongue matching the speed of his fingers. Eva could feel the cream leaking out of her for him by now. Her hands toyed with her own nipples, needing to give them some kind of attention. "Tonio." Her breathless voice catching his attention. She didn't notice that Tone had left from in between her thighs. His fingers and thumb keeping her on the edge.  "You cumming, Eva." His matter-of-fact tone causing her to moan aloud in response.  She was.  "Cum for me. Show me how much you like this, Eva."  His words sent her body off. Her vagina squeezing around his fingers as her back arched off the cool silk sheets. Tonio placed kisses down her physique, sucking on each of her nipples before trailing his way down to her sweet nectar again.  Tonio grabbed a hold of her hands, his arms holding her stomach and hips as he begins his teasing again. He hadn't had his full just yet of her sweetness. Eva squirm underneath him, her moans louder until they were almost screams of pleasure as he feasted on her once again.  "Toni---fuck....please."  His mouth stayed in the same spot until she started to squirt. Eva, not ever experiencing such an intimate act before, wanted to curl up into a ball the second it happened, but his body forced her to only accept him and all he caused. Her body slightly jump from the after works of his job.  "I really want to fuck the shit out of you, Eva," Tonio said, flicking a finger across her swollen clit. "But I'll wait. Sleep, baby."
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3one3 · 6 years
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The Sequel - 899
Team Matters
André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)
original epic tale
all chapters of The Sequel
“Daddy’s home.”
“Daddy!”
“Go get him!”
Lukas got up and ran after the dogs that abandoned him to go see who opened the door from the garage. They’d been playing a combination of fetch, tug of war, and wrestling for a while, all happy to be indoors with a fire on a frigid, damp Sunday afternoon. A minute later, a well-dressed man walked in with the trio of playmates looking decidedly happier than when he left.
“How did the meeting go?” his wife asked with optimism and hope.
“We got booed. The management got applause. Bosz isn’t sacked.”
“God damn it!”
“Why are you in your pajamas already, Mausi?” André asked the little boy in his arm, wrinkling his club suit.  
“He napped during the race,” Mom supplied. She peeled away her blanket and sat up from her couch nest to get a hello-kiss.
“Who won?”
“Not Seb.”
“Sorry. Are you about to work out? I’ll watch him if you give me a minute to go cha-“
“No. I already did. I was just too lazy to change. I sat down to watch a few minutes of the pre-race coverage with the intention of changing after I cooled off but then I decided to just be sweaty and gross and stay on the couch.”
“What did you do while Mommy did her exercise?” André asked Lukas, who was trying to extract his silver tie from the matching sweater.
“Dancing and goals. Can you do cars with me?”
“Yes. I would love to play cars with you.” He kissed the little boy’s red cheek, and thought about what a relief it was to come home after the tense event and be with his family. Dortmund got slaughtered in the Champions League midweek, there was talk of the manager parting ways with the club, the crisis felt more heated than ever before, and the pressure on the team to win the most important game of their season was enormous. Mega-rival Schalke showed up at Signal Iduna Park four days later. If the Bees played the way they had been against their derby opponents, they could reach a breaking point, so everyone was prepared to give their best. André hoped the poor performance of the players picked to start against Tottenham might give him a chance to start instead, but it wasn’t to be. He was on the bench, and never got in the game. He really thought he would have an opportunity in the second half after Dortmund went up an astonishing 4-0 in the first 25 minutes. They banged in goal after goal- one each for Auba, Mario, and Raf Guerreiro, plus an own goal. Schalke made a double substitution on 33’ and changed the game. The home side saw that the second half wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, or a chance to put some guys in off the bench to get their goals and run up the score. Schalke had backbone and resolve.
They scored twice right on the hour-mark. It was demoralizing for the shaking Black and Yellows. Bosz brought on Marc Bartra to fit into the 3-5-2 as the right wingback, where Christian Pulisic had been playing. That required taking off Yarmolenko, who had been one of the only players through which the team was able to get out when penned in. Then Auba got sent off for a second, incredibly dumb yellow. Mario, the brightest player in the match, was taken off after a bad knock and replaced by Gonzalo Castro- the first move from the manager that actually kind of made sense. He brought some small measure of safety in that he could actually keep the ball, and he offered fresh legs. But Guerreiro came off moments later and that was the end of the whole keeping the ball thing. Because having the most nervous and unreliable defender in Marc on the pitch wasn’t enough, Bosz wanted to get Zagadou on, the second most nervous and unreliable defender. Not three minutes after his arrival, Schalke got their third. They also ended up down to 10 as well because Castro raked his studs down the back of a leg and the player couldn’t continue. Treatment for his injury went on forever, so there were 7 minutes added. Schalke centerback Naldo scored the equalizer on 90+3, and Borussia Dortmund was essentially a laughing stock. The entirety of the Bosz era was squeezed into the 97-minute performance, with all its attacking highs and defensive nightmares. The fans had every right to boo on Sunday. Christina was so apoplectic about the performance that Lukas got upset listening to her rant at home after, when his Dad got there. She had to explain that she wasn’t yelling at him- just the “inexplicably incapable” manager of his dad’s team.
“I think I’m gonna shower if you’re gonna play with him,” she yawned. “I put the turkey in about an hour ago. It should start to smell nice soon.” All the Thanksgiving posts on Instagram and Facebook from her friends in the US finally got to her. She ordered a 16lb turkey from the butcher and got a big sack of potatoes. There would be a mini-Thanksgiving in Ahlenberg later. And not a moment too soon. The family planned to go Christmas tree shopping on Monday.
“Go get out the cars you want to play with,” André advised as he returned Lukas to the floor.
“First put away the toys you’re done with,” his mother ordered in a most motherly way. André went upstairs for sweatpants and a t-shirt, and she dug her phone out of the Berkshire blanket blob she’d been curled up in in her sports bra and boyshorts. She’d been texting with Natasha about everything from Christmas to Cornflakes. Yannis and Leo were getting on really well with their new trainer at Box Hill, an older gentleman with experience in steeplechasing and eventing in addition to show jumping. He only taught at the stable two days per week so the kids weren’t getting as much instruction as they used to, but were benefitting from being in such a busy place. There were other boys and girls to ride with, so they learned from each other in and out of the saddle. They made up games. They hung out outside of the barn. Christina was really glad that it was working out so well for them because she was initially afraid that they’d lose interest and their ponies would go to waste. She was also really pleased that they were with a coach who would give them balanced instruction with elements of all the different disciplines. The boys wanted her to attend Box Hill’s Christmas show to see them compete. Their mom desperately wanted her to go Christmas shopping and cocktailing with her. Christina just wanted to talk about Eden and the effect of his football on her physical senses. To watch Eden Hazard play football after Eden Hazard finally had a forced vacation to rest his body and his broken ankle was to enjoy a sexual experience. He just kept getting better and better, and in her mind that somehow meant the Hazards’ sex life must also be devastatingly awesome.
“He’s not really any different,” Mrs. Hazard wrote back to her question as to whether or not his current run of world-beating form had any effect on him off the pitch. “The kids are getting a good lesson in humility because he keeps saying on TV that his teammates make it easy and it’s not just him and Morata. He’s lying.”
“I wish I could come to a game soon! Anyway. Do you have any idea what one would do with lightly worn couture dresses she wishes to part with? I need to get rid of some of the things I’m never gonna wear again. They’re too nice and too expensive to just give away.”
“No. I have fewer couture dresses than you have riding boots. Try calling the girls at our fave? They might know a consignment shop.”
“Do you remember the poufy red dress I wore for the CFC xmas party when I was pregnant?”
“No.”
“Oh well it’s so pretty and romantic and I just found it today because it’s been zipped in a bag since I moved and now I want to wear it somewhere. I’m so longing for a formal party to go to with Schü in a tux or nice suit. In London you can go to one like every week. There’s always something. We have nada here.”
“What about just a really nice restaurant? We could double date in party frocks and suits when you’re here.”
“Maybe!”
“Okay you’re relieved,” André yawned when he returned. “Who you talking to?”
“Nat.” Oof it’s cold in here, the rider complained inside once she was fully out of her blanket and covered in goosebumps instead. Man he needs a haircut. I hate his winter hair. “Come here a second.” Can’t take him to a fancy dinner with this hair, ugh. Christina stood on her toes and reached up to completely wreck her partner’s carefully coiffed look. His hair was longer than usual all around, and he’d slicked it back and over for the sake of formality. He liked it that way. She made a messy mop of it. “That’s better.” He got a kiss of approval before she padded off in her slippers.
“All right, Mommy’s gone, what kind of trouble do you want to get into?” the footballer asked his mini-me. He sat on the rug with him in front of the end of the Manchester City game. Lukas had a handful of tiny Hot Wheels supercars, a larger military jeep, and Ferrari Formula 1 cars in two sizes. He’d also brought his road map mat out from his playroom, and collected two throw pillows.
“Rally cars!” His favorite thing to do with his toy cars, besides crash them into each other, was push them on, around, and over a series of obstacles he cobbled together from whatever was around. He had the world’s only open-wheel racing cars capable of sticking the landing after jumping off a coffee table. There had to be sound effects too. The best part of playing rally cars with Daddy was that Daddy did good car and crash sounds. The two boys arranged the pillows and the mat to establish their racetrack, and discussed which cars they each wanted to use. André chose the Hot Wheels Porsche. It was small and easy to hold, and he had a pretty good flat-6 engine impression in his car sound effect repertoire. He pretended the rear engine car was hard to keep going straight and that he had to drift through all the turns. Lukas went for the Le Mans-spec Aston Martin, which his mother deeply regretted letting him have. It was an expensive model that used to serve as a bookend on her shelf, not a toy. He broke an endplate off the wing, bent the mirror, and cracked one of its yellow headlights. It made her angry every time she looked at it. He needed two hands to navigate it around his course, and he had to stand up and crawl while André could reach most of the course while seated Indian-style in the middle of it.
“Were you watching the game with Mommy?”
“Yep.”
“Was it exciting?”
“No.”
“Did she shout a lot?”
“No. She napped.”
“She napped?” Dad chuckled. “Are you sure? She’s not supposed to nap when no one else is home with you!”
“She napped. Do the souuunds,” Lukas giggled while André’s 911 skidded out and narrowly missed colliding with the ottoman. The pilot made tire squeal and engine rumble noises as he straightened his car and headed for the magazine ramp up to the furry pillow, but he was thinking about Christina. She doesn’t fall asleep when she’s watching the baby, ever. That’s like her biggest fear. She falls asleep and he burns the house down or cuts the dog’s ear off or something. I know she’s tired but wow, he commented to himself. I hope it’s not her new drugs. She said the whole point of them is that it doesn’t make her tired and loopy. They’re supposed to just make her nauseous instead, as if that’s so much better, the player tutted inside. He asked his girl about her new prescription when she got home from Qatar. She asked Müll for a non-opioid pain solution, and he recommended trying an anticonvulsant used for people with chronic nerve and musculoskeletal pain. He gave her an extended release version designed specifically to avoid the common side effects of the regular kind, like drowsiness. It could be taken once a day for a long time, or used as needed. Christina didn’t want to try the daily course because one side effect it definitely still came with was a feeling of weakness in the extremities. That wouldn’t do for her. Her various ailments hadn’t been bad enough yet to give the new drug a go, as far as André knew. They had a small fight about the pills. She didn’t like his assumption that she was seeking new drugs for some nefarious, secret reason, and he didn’t like that she had enough pain to warrant asking their doctor for a new solution but didn’t tell him about it. Her rebuttal was that she always told him exactly what and how much it hurt when he asked about it, and that he just didn’t ask that much anymore.
“You beat me! The Aston Martin is so quick, yeah?”
“Again! This time, Ferrari,” Lukas said after their first race. He went to hand the smaller of his single-seaters to his dad to use for the second race, and his dad’s phone buzzed on the coffee table at the same time.
“Do a practice run,” André suggested, reaching for the device. He lay on his back to check the message, and Lukas complained that he was blocking the track. He told him to just drive over him, so his stomach became part of the rally car obstacle course. The text was in the team’s group chat. The guys wanted to do a team dinner the following night to talk about what was happening at the club, and what they could and should do about it. There was a lot of re-coaching going on on the pitch. The team’s leaders changed the game plan a lot without the manager largely due to a lack of confidence in Bosz. Some of the players believed they should do more of that, and some felt they were undermining the coach to the team’s detriment. That wasn’t the kind of talk they could have in public in a restaurant in Dortmund, so Schmelle was soliciting ideas about where to gather.
We could just have everyone over here, André mused, taking a break from the screen to stare at the painted wood planks every three feet across his ceiling. They used to be natural. Zoe made them white to make the room feel bigger, and it worked. Something like grilled steaks and fish would be easy. It’s a lot of food to prepare but I can grill. Chris doesn’t have to do it all herself. And we have room for a lot of food on the one outside and space for more on the griddle thing in the kitchen. Roasted vegetables. I think we can do two pans at a time in each oven. I’m not sure where we put everyone. He glanced toward the kitchen but couldn’t really see it beyond the back of the couch. The dining table is for 10 but we could probably fit 12 or 14. Then some people could sit at the counter in the kitchen. We don’t all have to sit together. The talking can be before and after the food. If it’s not raining, we could even eat outside. The space heater is supposed to keep the whole patio warm. I can set up the beer pong table to eat on, and bring the dining room chairs out. The regular table is for 8 maybe. Yeah. I’m going to volunteer, André concluded. I think I’m the only one with enough parking too. I’ll tell them to try to carpool though.
“Do you want to go to Noah’s tomorrow night?” he asked while typing.
“I like Noah,” his little body nodded, significantly more interested in landing his Aston Martin after the jump from his waist to the carpet, which the cars really had to skim over. The pile was too deep to push them along quickly. André finished offering his house and his food in exchange for Marco’s partner’s childcare services and sat up to get his little Ferrari.
“Okay let’s race.” I’m going to let him think he’s winning again and then I’m going to hold the back of his Santa penguins pajama shirt and laugh at him doing the air swimming thing like the dogs do when you hold them over the pool or the bathtub. Where are they anyway...The BVB man swiveled his head around to check for Toy Fox Terriers. They were sharing one plaid flannel bed by the fireplace. Christina took them to the barn with her for her early morning rides. Their energy wasn’t as limitless when it started getting cold, or in the middle of summer for that matter. Lukas played more physical games with them as he got older too. He was like having a permanent ball-throwing machine for them. He was also impatient about racing, so André leaned over to line up his suggested Ferrari beside his car. He did the three-two-one-go and the race was on. He was on the “inside” of the track and his opponent moved around the outside.
“You can’t catch me!” Lukas bragged, crawling with his English GT racer toward the finish line, which was indicated on his road map mat. The whole final sector of the course was on there. His dad leaned forward on his knees, collected a fistful of his little shirt to inhibit his progress, and “raced” his red Formula 1 car right by. “Daddy! Let go!”
“Nope. This is the only way I can beat you!” André laughed. “I win!” He let go and the child went flying. Luckily Dad had good reflexes and one hand already in the landing zone. He caught him before he could faceplant near the finish line. “This was called cheating and you should never do it.”
“But-“
“Some day you will understand the concept of “Do what I say, not what I do.” Until then, just go with it.”
“But...Daddy, I’m foosed.” Lukas squinted at him, perplexed, and squatted to retrieve his car.
“Get used to it, buddy. I’m always foosed! Your Momma thinks it’s cute though, so I embrace it.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” André bent down to smooch his confused little boy and then asked him which car he should pilot next, and if he wanted to switch out the Aston. Lukas chose the Ferrari, which the player liked because he thought it meant Lukas was really smart- that he recognized that the Ferrari beat his DB9 and was thus faster. Then he worried that Lukas was actually really dumb, because he should have known the Ferrari only won because he cheated. Then he concluded that he was reading way too much into racecar selection. The little Schü assigned him a Hot Wheels Polizei car for their tiebreaker. Christina returned, smelling like peppermint, halfway through the race. She went straight to the oven to check her Turkey, and then to the snack cabinet to see if there was anything good to eat. She plopped on the couch with a handful of raw almonds.
“Who won?” she inquired.
“Mausi is up two races.”
“I meant the football.”
“City.”
“Ugh. Why.”
“So hey. We’re having the whole team over for dinner tomorrow night, but it’s okay because I have a plan,” André explained. He knew she wouldn’t react well, so he smiled and lifted one brow in a way he thought made him looking charming. There were certain expressions that usually made it very hard for her to say no. The face looking back at him quickly morphed into an expression that foreshadowed worse than just a no, and she almost choked on her nuts. “What?” Christina’s reply began with fury and somehow ended with just dejection
“Besides the fact that a dinner party for 29 is not a little thing you throw together 24 hours in advance, we were supposed to go get a Christmas tree. You said we could get the tree and start the rest of the decorating.” She slumped over on the side of the chaise part of the couch and worked her fingers into her wet hair to massage her scalp the way she did when she was stressed. Her pretty cornflower blues were full of disappointment. She dejectedly put another almond in her mouth and chewed in slow motion.
“I’m sorry pretty girl- I forgot.” The Big Schü tilted his head sympathetically. “Can’t we do that on Tuesday? I completely forgot you wanted to start decorating. We haven’t talked about it in a few days.” His self-defense was miscalculated.
“How could you possibly forget? He’s in Christmas PJ’s. I’m using candy cane shampoo. I even got out the Christmas beds for Spence and Lucky! And how am I going to feed everyone? Babe-“ The rider sighed heavily with frustration and tried not to glare. I don’t want him to think I’m mad. I’m not mad. I’m upset. There’s a distinction and he doesn’t always get it and then we get into fights as a result. Deep breaths. “I-“
“I’m going to go to the market in the morning and I’ll get everything we need. You don’t have to do anything.” This is going to require hugs, André concluded about the forlorn situation happening on the couch. Lukas was trying to climb up there already, so he got up, gave him a boost, and then let him crawl into Christina’s lap before he sat next to her. The way she welcomed the little boy and rubbed her chin on him made his dad feel worse. She treated him like a stuffed animal when she was upset. He stole her almonds. “I’ll get steaks and salmon and they can go on the grills with a couple of seasonings. I thought maybe sheet pan vegetables? I can even get the pre-cut ones so we just dump them on the tray. And a green salad. That’s simple, right? We’ll eat outside. And Marco said Zoe will take the boys out to eat.”
“Fine. Whatever you need. I just- I was really looking forward to our plans. I’m not trying to be whiny or have to get my way. I’m just...telling you so that you understand. I was looking forward to an afternoon and evening without anything Borussia Dortmund because the whole subject of Borussia Dortmund makes me want to kill people,” she mumbled, covering Lukas’ ears. “And now Borussia Dortmund is coming over for dinner, so...yeah.” Borussia Dortmund, ruining my life since...I don’t know...the 90’s. They gave me two good years and the rest? Pain. Just pain. But now Borussia Dortmund ruins my life more comprehensively. Before it just my heart hurt when they lost, or when players left. And when Marco was killed, all 6 times. Now I’ve had to move, watch boyfriend get hurt 8 million times, watch him regret his decision to do this, watch him feel like he’s letting everyone down- like he’s letting ME down. But by all means, bring a swarm of Bees into the house. “Is there gonna be a brawl? Are you all going to get into fights?”
“I hope not,” her Bee chuckled. “I’ll make sure they take it outside. And I promise I’ll make it up to you, Prinzessin.” He leaned over to hold her face and smooch her forehead, confident he’d adequately smoothed over the situation. “Tuesday we can go to the tree place, and the Weihnachtsmarkt if that’s not too much Borussia Dortmund for you. It’s a little Borussia Dortmund there.”
“I can’t. I have a Skype interview.”
“Wednesday?”
“Maybe.” Juan plays Wednesday. Chelsea. Football that doesn’t make me homicidal. I don’t want to miss that.
“Okay. We’ll work it out. Is my food plan good?”
“You always do this.”
“What?” She keeps changing. I can’t tell if she’s mad, annoyed, or sad.
“You conceive a dinner party without consulting me, and then you think you can do it all and I won’t be bothered. Newsflash,” Christina snorted. “I always end up bothered. How is it that you never learn? Like, for real. How is there never a point in your plan-making where you go, “Hm, this situation feels familiar...”?”
“No. But I think about whether you’ll be okay with it or not,” André argued in his own defense. “I go through the whole thing and make sure I have a plan so it’s not your problem. I always think of you. It’s not like you’re an afterthought.” He wanted to make that point really clear, as his girl had accused him a lot recently of being inconsiderate or falling out of the habit of taking her into account.
“I hope Lulu Schü doesn’t grow up to be the “but I have a plan!” guy,” she groaned. Her son was trying to get out of her lap to get his sippy cup from the coffee table. André handed it to him so that he’d stay put. Christina lamented many times that no rejection stung like bringing Spencer or Lucky to sit with her and having them get up and leave, until Lukas did it to her. “Also, the Skype interview is with an author doing a book about me and Dirk, by the way. Thanks for asking.”
“I was getting there! I was trying to- Wait. Why?”
“Well technically it’s about the evolution of jumping horses and the current breeding trends. Dirk gets his own chapter and we’re in a lot of parts together.”
“That sounds cool. Do I say congratulations, or? I don’t know the protocol here, Prinzessin.” The footballer leaned over to put his arm around her shoulders and squeeze. He had to draw his knees up too just to close off Lukas’ exit. He could see him eyeing the alternative lap to sit on with his cup of water. Christina wasn’t done petting his head.
“I don’t know either.”
“Your hair smells nice.”
“Stop sucking up for making me cook for 30 people.”
“I’m not. I’m giving you affection because I think you don’t really care that much about having the squad come over and you actually just want me to pay more attention to you and I would have been stuck with you for several hours tomorrow out of the house. I’m guessing you’re even happy to have a chance to do something that might help me feel better about what’s happening with the football club. What do you think?”
“I think your instincts might not be totally off...” the rider told her partner, tentatively, without looking up from the blonde head with the softest hair in the house.
“I’m sorry I’ve been very distracted lately and we haven’t done anything fun together since you got back.” André stretched over to kiss her cheek, which was noticeably hot. He wasn’t sure if that was part of getting out of the shower or if she was upset, or maybe even embarrassed. He said what he did on a hunch, because he thought it would be better to skip to the real problem rather than litigate the many layers of grievance shielding it.
Christina returned from Doha a week before, with a nice trophy for the Grand Prix but none for the Championship. That was okay. She didn’t go to enough shows to even really be in the contest. She relinquished her title with grace, and little bother. What she brought back with her in addition to the trophy was a serious physical hangover. Juan went to the Global Champions Tour Final with her to help keep her thoughts pointed in the right direction- on riding, on enjoying herself, on being open enough to connect with her horses and be able to feel and thus show what made her and them so good. One way he helped her enjoy herself was taking her out every night. They partied with all of her friends at the Kygo club night, had an intimate late night out together at Doha’s first and only jazz club, and celebrated her Grand Prix of Doha win at the official party on Saturday night, which was hours after the magazine launch party. It was all parties. It was all food, and drinks, and staying up late but still waking up early to work out, still making healthy eating choices, and still focusing on her work. Christina had a blast.
She slept on the plane ride home, went to bed when she got home, and slept away half of Monday too. Then André was with the team that night, they flopped big time in the Spurs game and he went right to sleep after, he was sequestered in “we must fix this downward spiral” training and meetings for the entire day on Wednesday, and never really found a way to do anything with his wife on Thursday either because he had to do an appearance for adidas and she had a mom-date with Zoe and the boys. Friday was training and the team hotel. Saturday night was mutual shouting about Borussia Dortmund and then frustrated, solitary video gaming and NBA-watching. The week included no dinner dates, no breakfasts out, no family trips to the public playground, no footballer drop-ins at the barn, and very limited couch time because one or both adults in the house wanted to be alone or go to bed early. The lack of together-activities was mostly not Christina’s doing, and André understood why the Christmas tree mission would matter so much to her just then. He also understood that she wasn’t going to walk into the living room and literally implore him to pay attention to her, the way he sometimes did. That wasn’t her style, and she too understood the circumstances. He truly believed his girl would be happy to host a problem-solving dinner for him and his teammates so that he could feel better and improve the playing picture, once she got past the inconvenience.
“It’s okay,” she mumbled.
“Want me to get the decorations out now? We could start putting them up after the turkey. Isn’t that how the Thanksgiving works anyway? You eat the turkey and then put up the Christmas stuff?”
“Not quite that immediately, usually. People are too stuffed. But maybe...we could start after he goes to bed?” A hopeful little glance his way reassured the German that he definitely wasn’t in trouble anymore.
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