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houseof-harry · 4 years

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What Happens in Jersey Pt. 8 | G.D.

A/N - she’s finally here! I’m sorry it took so long, but it had to meet my impossibly high standards. Get hype! Read the last part here!

Word Count - 4.7k

Warnings - none :)

Recap:

He sucks a breath in, his thoughts racing through his head a mile a minute. He had no clue how much you’d misinterpreted what happened with Jessie and how much you were unaware of how flexible he could be with his job and how much him and Ethan were looking to come back to the East Coast anyways. And most importantly, he had no idea you were unaware of how much he cared about you, your happiness, health, and well-being.

But before he can say any of that, you’re walking towards the door.

‘Y/N-“

“No. It’s Jessie’s fucking graduation party, we’re not going to ruin it.”

And with that you were out the door, not even looking back at him.

***

The rest of the party went well, without any hiccups. You even got to spend some time with Ethan, which you really enjoyed. He was always so stressed free it seemed, and he was even able to make you laugh.

Only when it started to wind down did your anxiety pick up again. You saw the Dolans making their rounds, saying goodbye to everyone they knew. Of course they saved you for last, Lisa and Ethan saying their goodbyes before leaving Grayson alone with you.

“Please let me take you to eat something.”

You can hear the desperation in his voice, and he makes it difficult to do anything other than agree with him. You simply nod, going to grab your phone. You don’t even care that you’re not hungry, you hope that maybe what you’d said had finally resonated with him and this could be the last time you have to have this type of conversation with him. You’d finally be able to like him from a distance, safely.

He brings you about 20 minutes from Jessie’s house to a small diner. The parking lot was almost empty, just a few cars that you assumed belonged to the staff. It was only 5 o’clock, so you assumed business would pick up soon.

“What’s this place?” You ask as you both walk to the entrance together. He holds the door open for you as you walk inside.

“Found it when I first got my license. I love my family, and Ethan especially, but I needed some space sometimes. Would come here and get some coffee and food and be alone.”

You nod, looking around the inside. It was exactly what you’d expect from a diner that hasn’t been changed in 50 years. How cliché.

A young girl walks towards you smiling, telling you to sit wherever you’d like. You thank her and Grayson pulls you to what you assume is his favorite booth.

Once you were both settled, you started looking over the menu. “What’s your favorite?” You ask him.

“Well, now that I’m vegan I just get fries, but I know the burgers are really good. Know that, somehow, you’ve been craving meat.” A shiver runs through him as if the thought is absolutely horrible.

You giggle, nodding. “Yeah, a burger sounds really good. But I need my own fries.” Now that you were here, smelling the grease and the food you knew you couldn’t resist having what he suggested.

His exaggerated disgust continues as he collects your menus. The comfortable feeling you got around him right now made you even more hopeful. Maybe he’d listened to you, and you could be friends. Back to a good old friend baby.

“I thought you should know Ethan and I are touring a couple houses tomorrow.”

Your smile fades as you look at him, your brows now raised. “Here?”

He nods. “Yeah. Well, in a couple of different towns, but all less than ten minutes from a train station so you can get to the city easily.”

You lean back against the smooth plastic of the booth, your skin sticking to the hard material. “For me?”

“Yeah, when you get a job.”

“Like I’d live there?”

He nods, confused with your confusion. “Yeah, we talked about that a few times. Me taking care of it all and stuff.”

You shake your head, the brick of anxiety right back in your gut. “No, no no. Helping is one thing. Buying a house is a whole other thing. I can’t rely on you like that.”

“Why do you say shit like that, Y/N? It’s okay to not be able to do this on your own, you didn’t get pregnant on your own. I understand it’s scary, I do. I’m scared too. But, this is gonna happen no matter if we ignore it or not and I’d rather get on our shit so we can do right by our baby.”

You sit there for a minute, processing his words. As much as you’d like to admit it, he’s right. You’re already halfway through your pregnancy and you haven’t done much to prepare for when the baby actually gets here.

“I just-“ you suck in a deep breath, looking away from him. “It’s hard for me to trust people. I’ve let people in to be hurt and let down by them when they were supposed to be nothing but loving and supportive. If they couldn’t do that, why would you be able to?”

Although your response was vague, Grayson is almost positive you’re talking about your parents. The same parents you’ve only mentioned once and it was only when he asked. Before all of this had happened, Jessie had let it slip that they weren’t great, but again he went into little detail. He wanted to know what had happened, what they could have done to make you so unwilling to trust people, but he also knows better than to pry.

“I don’t know what else I can do to prove I want to go through this with you, be here with you and raise our baby together. I even looked into the school districts of all the towns we’re going to tomorrow, I’m here for this. I don’t want to help you because you need it, which it’s okay if you do, but because I care about you. I think you’re strong and amazing, you’re probably one of the most respectable people I know.”

You sigh, sinking further into the booth. Your walls were quickly being knocked down by every word that came from his mouth, but there was still that part of you that didn’t want to believe this could be possible.

“What happens if you don’t like me anymore and don’t want to live together?”

“Y/N, we can go over a million what ifs, but that one’s ridiculous. No matter what happens to us, you’re still the mother of my baby and I will do whatever it takes to give them the best life possible. If it was absolutely necessary, I’d find another place to sleep.”

You nod, playing with the hem of your dress. “What about when you’re in LA and I’m working?”

“My mom can help when she’s not working, but at this point E and I are going to be based in Jersey and only going to LA for when we need.”

You raise your brow, sitting up straighter. “So you’d be here most of the year? For the baby?”

He nods, his hands coming to rest on the table, interlocked with one another. “I mean we’ve wanted to do this for a while anyways, but this just kind of put a fast forward on it.”

“So you won’t become spiteful or anything?” You don’t mean to sound judgmental and rude, but that’s definitely how it comes across.

“Y/N, no. I want this, I promise.”

Before you can conjure up another make believe situation, the same girl who greeted you came over and asked for your orders. You took Grayson’s advice and got a burger, and Grayson got the same soda you’d shared at the hockey game to go along with his fries.

Once the server is gone, his eyes are back on you, a small smile on his face.

“Can I come look at the houses with you guys?” You ask quietly, unsure of how he’d feel about that.

He nods enthusiastically, the smile widening on his lips. “Of course, yeah. We’re looking at four. Here, let me show you pictures.”

He reaches for his phone, but you shake your head. “No, I want to see them all fresh. Get a feel for them as I experience them.”

“I like the way you think.” He continues to smile, his body much more relaxed than before. “We’re meeting the realtor at 9 tomorrow morning.”

“I can make that work.”

***

You had about ten minutes before the twins would pulling into Jessie’s driveway and you were washing your dishes from the breakfast you had made for you and Jessie.

“So you’re really gonna live with them?” He asks from next to you, drying the plate you handed him.

You nod, a sigh passing your lips. You’d managed to keep talk of Grayson minimal with Jessie ever since March, but this was unavoidable.

“Yeah, makes the most sense. He’s really keen on giving our baby as much of a family we can no matter what, and I agree. If we all live together, it’ll be a lot easier to do that.”

You almost felt like a changed woman overnight. Last night, you and Grayson had stayed at the diner for almost three hours. You talked a bit more about the houses and the baby, but most of it was just catching up for the almost two months you didn’t share much with one another.

Him and Ethan were working on a new collection for their fragrance company, they had been doing all types of videos they loved, and the decision to come back to New Jersey. They had known that it would always be their home, but they were really excited to come back. LA had become too much, they felt more like themselves here.

You decided to tell him how the end of your semester went, how sad you were to be done with school but how excited you were to finally be able to do something you loved. When you were able to get a job, of course.

You both even found yourselves sharing things about your childhood, both good and bad. He told you about some of the hard things he experienced with bullying and you shared about your anxiety growing up. You didn’t go into detail, but it gave him some insight into how you thought now, why you were so timid in letting him in. It made him wonder what you saw in Jessie and why you so easily were able to trust him. But, he didn’t want to get into that.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

You felt frustration slowly start to bubble in you, feeling like you were quickly going to end up in the same situation as last time if you didn’t bite it in the butt.

“Jess, yes, I do. And no more questioning Grayson from you, I do it enough for the both of us. You agreed to just focus on us, not him. I’m not putting up with this shit again.”

Jessie leans back against the counter, his arms crossed after having dried the last dish. “I know, sorry. It’s just the last time you stayed with him it went south fast.”

“It went south after you got into some weird ass bidding war over me. But it’s different now. We’re good again and I’m working with Gray to be good with him, too.” You dried your hands, going to grab your phone to make sure you could see when Grayson texted you. Now you were more than itching to get out of the house.

“So you want space?”

You pause, pondering his suggestion. You’re sure he asked it just to hear you say ‘no’, but it honestly wasn’t a bad suggestion. Before you could really have them both in the same space it would be easier to figure out where you stood with both of them.

“I mean…maybe.”

Sure enough, he looks at you bewildered. “Y/N, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“I have to actually give him a chance. You had me for two months, and look where it’s gotten us. We’re good again. I need to at least try with him, I owe him that.” Your words almost surprise you as much as they do Jessie, but they’re the truth. You never gave Grayson a chance and yet he still continues to show how much he’s willing to support you and the baby.

“And you can’t do that with me being around?”

A sarcastic laugh bubbles up from your throat as you look at him in disbelief. “Not with the way you acted before, and definitely not the way you’re acting now. Not until you can actually be friends with him again.”

Jessie clenches his jaw, nodding while refusing to look your way. “We were never really friends. Only liked Ethan.”

“So then start to like him,” you snap and before he can respond, your phone buzzes with Grayson’s contact. You hold your hand up to Jessie before he can talk again, answering your phone. “Hey.”

“Hi! We’re outside.” Grayson’s voice floods your senses and for a moment, you feel better. Unfortunately, a moment is all it can be because you watch Jessie leave the kitchen, his jaw tense and his hands in fists.

“Be there in a minute.” You hang up the phone, quickly moving around the kitchen to get your things. You take a moment to breath, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders. You want to try and enjoy this day so bad, and the ball is in your court at this point. Either have a good time with the twins or let Jessie ruin it even when he’s not there.

Before you can overwhelm yourself with your thoughts, you go to the door and walk outside. You smile as soon as you can see the happy grin on Grayson’s face coming your way. Ethan was settling into the back seat, so you took it as your cue to sit in the passenger seat.

As soon as you open the door, Grayson is greeting you. He is spewing information about your day to you while you buckle and get comfortable, your hand instinctively covering your stomach over the seat belt.

“Ready?” He asks, his gaze on you.

You nod, your eyes meeting his. “Yeah.”

His smile falters a bit at the level of your voice. You were quiet, much less excited than him. As he started to drive, this scared him. What if you weren’t ready for this, and you had lied just to appease him? He was confused, because your dinner had been so good. He couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. The way you sounded telling him your fond memories from summers at the beach, or the less nice stories about your family. The way you’d look at him like you were almost a bit scared, but never enough to stop looking or talking. He felt like you’d finally started to let your walls down a bit, but it felt like they were right back up now.

The rest of the car ride is pretty quiet, your thoughts back at Jessie’s while your eyes followed the trees you passed. You were scared, genuinely. If Jessie didn’t get his shit together, a break wouldn’t be enough. You didn’t want to lose him, not after everything you’ve been through. But he needed to let you and Grayson figure out what you wanted to do.

The car pulled into a parking lot of a shopping center and next to a white SUV. A woman with blonde hair, tan skin, and crisp clothing stood behind it with a wide smile on her face. You guessed she was around 40, but you couldn’t be sure. You couldn’t tell if it was botox or just how perky she was, or even her colorful skirt and white blouse that was buttoned at the top. She seemed like she played tennis at the country club on the weekends with her friends. But, who were you to judge.

You heard her chipper voice greet the boys while you climbed out of the car. You let out a huff as your feet hit the ground, your hand gripping the door to keep your balance. You take a second to yourself to breathe, calming yourself. There’s no need to be so pessimistic all the damn time, right?

You make your way to the other side of the car, a tight smile making its way onto your face as the three people come into view.

“You must be Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Beth.” Before you can even react, Beth is bringing you into a tight hug. You hug her back for a moment before stepping back.

“Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Grayson’s told me all about you and your little bean! May I?” Her hands over your stomach and honestly you don’t want her touching you, but saying no might make things awkward. And you might be finding your future home today, so you nod your hand and her hands are on you immediately. You shiver, her cold fingers causing goosebumps to cover your upper arms. Grayson notices and wraps an arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

“I remember being pregnant with my babies. Still carry some of that baby weight with me,” she chuckles, her hands moving from your stomach to her own. You say nothing because she probably weighs less than you did before you were pregnant. All you could was pray this woman was as good at finding homes as she was at giving you a headache.

“So Beth, where’s the first house we’re looking at?” Ethan asks and you’re beyond grateful. You weren’t a huge fan of the attention to start, and Beth just seems so…condescending. But, you decide to continue to act as normal as possible because you’re sure your hormones make your annoyance with the woman ten times higher than normal.

Thankfully, Ethan’s question gets Beth on a roll of describing the first house and the town it’s in as she tells you guys to get in her car.

Grayson opens the front door for you but you shake your head, pushing Ethan to sit there instead. If you sat in the back with Grayson you’d be much more able to focus on the positives of what Beth has to say without her voice giving you even more of a headache. Plus, sitting next to Grayson didn’t sound so bad.

The boys both don’t question you at first, and it’s only once you’re in the back, opting for the middle seat to sit closer to Grayson that he gives you a questioning look.

“You good?” He whispers, and you’re sure the two in the front can’t hear him over Beth’s full on monologue. You weren’t even sure she was talking about the house anymore.

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Yeah.”

“You won’t feel sick?”

“No, I don’t really get morning sickness now anyways. Plus I was cold, didn’t know it was gonna be cloudy today. Would have worn leggings or something.” You move so you’re right up against him, his warm skin soothing your anxious heartbeat.

Between going to tour fucking houses with your baby daddy (and his twin/soon to be your roommate) and your tiff with Jessie this morning, you were anxious. And you’re at the point in your pregnancy where everything makes you anxious because you don’t want anything to hurt your baby, so it’s just been a really stressful morning.

“Oh, so you’re using me,” he chuckles, his arm finding itself right around your shoulder again, pulling you as close as you possibly can be in the backseat of a car without literally being on his lap.

You giggle as you nod, wrapping your arms around his torso as you rest your head on his chest to look out the window. “Yeah, pretty much.”

The rest of the car ride is filled with Beth talking about herself and sometimes pointing out local things you pass as you get closer to the home.

You only lift your head once the car is stopped in front of a metal gate, a huge house standing behind the fence.

“So like I said, this house has a finished basement and a pool in the backyard,” Beth continues to drone on, but you can’t find it in yourself to listen even though now it would probably be useful to.

It was a massive fucking house. There was literally a separate five car garage you could see, the white shutters contrasting the blue shingles that lined the entirety of the exterior. There were flowers lining the walkway up to the front door, and you thought about how perfect it all looked. White picket fence, the whole nine.

Your stomach started to bubble with your ever persistent anxiety again as the reality of the situation hit you. Hard. You were literally going to be living in this house, or some other perfect house, with Grayson Dolan and your baby.

You let Grayson help you out of the car, and you walk with him up to the front porch and through the door. The inside was just as perfect as the outside, and it didn’t sit right with you. It felt pristine, but not homey.

Beth and Ethan speed past you, his interest being in the backyard. Grayson walks around with you wordlessly until you’re in the living room where he lets go of your hand to look at the pictures above the fireplace.

You look around, looking at the crème couch on top of the off-white carpet. A glass coffee table was in front of it, and there were a couple of magazines splayed out across the top. You know that the décor doesn’t come with the house, but it all seems so…fake. Like no one actually lives there.

“What’s wrong?” Grayson asks you, and you hadn’t noticed he’d turned around to watch you. “And don’t say nothing, that’s what you always say but I know your thoughts are racing.”

You sigh, crossing your arms. “When did you learn to read me so well?”

He laughs, walking closer to you to wrap his arms around your waist. “I mean all I do these days is think about you, look at you, worry about you. Makes it a lot easier to notice when something is making you uncomfortable or something. But you make it easy, your face and your eyes give you away pretty easily.”

You gasp, your hand coming to cover your mouth as you giggle. “Really? Like no poker face?” “None,” he laughs.

“Damn.” You wrap your arms under his arms around his upper torso, letting your face rest on his chest. His heartbeat makes you feel a bit better, grounding you despite the fact you feel like you’re on a movie set for a family show.

“So what’s wrong?” He gives you a squeeze.

“I mean, if I’m being honest it started this morning when I kind of fought with Jess,” you sigh. He tenses at the mention of Jessie, not saying anything so you can elaborate more. “I basically told him when I move out I think we should have some space because it’s only fair I give us the same chance to mend our relationship I gave him.”

Grayson’s heart swells at this. He literally thinks he’s the Grinch, but instead of starting with a shrunken heart, his has grown so big it might burst out of his chest. This is the first time you’ve ever really admitted to really wanting to work on any type of relationship to him, which is big. Communication has never been your forte, and the same goes for himself.

“He’ll come around,” Grayson reassures you.

“Will he though? I don’t think he realizes that there isn’t a choice for me in a way. Like a part of him is still waiting for me to just drop you or something.”

Grayson swallows hard, the thought of you fully breaking off any relationship with him making him almost break out into a sweat. He’s not sure what he would do if you did that, what that would mean for your baby.

“And I think it’s eating away at him slowly, which is making it harder and harder to try and go back to how we were. Because I can’t just act like you’re not important to me, and it’s not fair of him to expect that of me. I just don’t know what to do.” You’re pretty much whimpering at this point, nuzzling your face into his shirt, the warmth radiating from him making you feel a bit better.

“Well, you know you can’t change him so for now let’s focus on the house we’re going to raise our family in, and we can address the Jessie situation later,” he suggests.

You take in a big breath before looking at him, a tight smile on your lips. “You’re right. That’s what I was trying to do originally, but it clearly wasn’t working,” you giggle.

He rubs up and down your back to soothe you a bit. “It’s okay. What do you think of the house, at least?”

You look around the living room once more before meeting his gaze again. “Honestly?”

“Of course.” “Feels fake. Like it’s too perfect. I can’t imagine us actually relaxing in here after the baby’s finally gone down to sleep, the kitchen looks like you’re not even supposed to cook in it because who has white everything? I know I’ve never cooked for you and although I have nothing but great ratings, I make a mess. Not that I don’t clean it, but I’d be so much more worried about it. We need a place we can actually live in, not somewhere that’s aesthetically pleasing. We need a home, not just a house.”

He thinks about what you said for a minute, looking around the room. “You’re right.”

You frown, watching his face. “Why do you look disappointed?” “It was my favorite online,” he mumbles.

Guilt hits you immediately as you rub your hands up and down his back. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, it’s a really nice house.”

He shakes his head. “But you’re right, it has to feel like home. Somewhere we can see our baby growing up. All the white kind of reminds me of a doctor’s office.”

You nod, your nose scrunching up at the thought. “Yeah, it’s too sterile.”

“I’ll get Beth and E and we can go to the next one.” He pulls away from you to walk away.

“Are you sure?”

“If it’s not feeling like home to you, then it’s not the right place. I’m positive.” And with that, he’s gone.

The car ride to the next house felt like two minutes even though it was probably around 30 because you were sat in the back talking with Grayson again. Time didn’t seem to exist when he was there, and neither does any other person.

So when your conversation is interrupted by Beth, you snap your head forward to see you’re at another gate. This time, however, the house is hidden behind the trees.

“Did you guys hear that?” Her voice is still bright as ever, but you can hear the annoyance as well.

“No, sorry,” you mumble.

“So this property is on a lake. It has its own dock and pretty much the whole back of the house are windows looking over the water but you’re far enough from shore to still have the privacy you were looking for.”

The car continues down the pebbled driveway as you look out the window. It’s basically a forest, all you can see is lush green and the blue sky that peaks through the opening caused by the driveway. Soon enough, the pebbles open up into a huge, circular driveway and a giant house wraps around the far side of the stones. It was a blueish gray with white detailing that looked just worn in enough to look cozy. The plants and flowers that surrounded the driveway and walkway were full and bright, adding to the warmness and welcoming you felt looking at the wooden front doors.

This is it.

You don’t want to say anything out loud to any of them yet because you haven’t even seen the inside yet, but this is it. This is your home.

#Grayson Dolan #Grayson Dolan blurb #Grayson Dolan imagine #Grayson Dolan concept #Grayson Dolan smut #Grayson Dolan fic #Grayson Dolan fanfic #Grayson Dolan fanfiction #Dolan Twins #Dolan Twins blurb #Dolan Twins imagine #Dolan Twins concept #Dolan Twins smut #Dolan Twins fic #Dolant Twins fanfic #Dolan Twins fanfiction #What Happens in Jersey

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

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My Cousin is CRAZY! (Ben10 alien force)

My cousin is crazy

It was Saturday morning in Bellwood and 15 year old Ben Tennyson was slowly waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs. It was strange because his parents were on a vegan kick at the moment but he decided to roll with it and opened his eyes as he went to sit up. And then groaned out loud as he took in stock of his attire and what he was sleeping in. Not for the first time since Gwen had started working out hardcore last year the girlish Ben had found his cousin perv'ing on him and deciding he should be her sissy baby wife. Despite making his lack of interest in such plans clear MORE then once, It hadn't of stopped Gwen from snagging him up at random times and dressing him up. Case and point, he was currently in what he estimated as 5 princess reaz's diapers (he'd sadly become familiar with the different brands because of Gwen) and a dark pink top with lighter pink puffed out shoulders and a semi skirt that didn't even cover half of the diapers. The top also had a red heart on the front with white writing in cursive declaring 'i wove my mommy' going along with the top and diapers his hands were in locking mittens meaning any attempt to use the omnitrix was doomed to fail and his feet covered in booties with slick bottoms so Ben would end up having to crawl unless he wanted to fall on his ass every 12 steps. 'At least she didn't put the paci in my mouth this time.' Ben thought with a sulky though a pat on his head told him she had put the silly over sized bow in his hair again, the damn thing pink with white poka dots. As for what he was in, again this wasn't a shock to him as it wasn't the first time but he was still less then pleased to have gone to sleep in his own bed in a pair of boxers and wake up in the hot pink crib Gwen had built just for him during her wood shop class. And of course since she wasn't shy of telling people who it was for Ben had been forced to endure even more teasing at school though ironically just verbal, no bullies had darned to lay a finger on him and have to deal with Gwen's almost super human power and bulk. The last bully who had tried had been found hanging from a flag pole by a pair of Barbie pants. Struggling to get to his feet on the purple sheet covered queen sized mattress and ignoring the fuzzy white and pink blanket and pillows in the crib with him (not to mention a dolly or too) Ben took in a deep breath and then hollered at the opened door frame of Gwen's room. "GWEN YOU SICK BITCH! YOU'VE BEEN TOLD TO STOP KIDNAPPING ME AND DRESSING ME IN DRAG AND HUGGIES! COME IN HERE AND LET ME OUT OF THIS OUTFIT BEFORE I GET YOU IN SHIT WITH YOURS AND MINE PARENTS AND GRANDPA MAX TOO!" It was the only threat that normally worked as while they're parents thought it was mostly cute, they all agreed that Gwen kidnapping Ben crossed a line. other then that though it was fair game if he was out of the house. Grandpa Max was nicer about it in Ben's view as he made the rust bucket a official safe zone that even Gwen respected and so Ben found himself hanging out less with Gwen and Kevin and more with Gramps. Kevin for his part was all too happy to stay out of it, treating the whole thing as a bullet dodged when him and Gwen had never hit it off and a better Ben then him. Ben didn't have to wait long as he swore he could almost feel the food steps of Gwen as she made her way towards the room.

Between the insane amount of weights she worked and the reps she put into and a unexpected growth spurt Gwen looked like she could of been a WWE at her 6'10 height and 320 pounds of mostly muscle. She kept her Orange hair short and was wearing a pair of grey jogging pants and white under shirt that showed off her girl abs. "Awww is my darling widdle wife to be awake?" She coo'ed, cupping her hands together and flashing Ben a big smile. "Gwen, for the LAST time, I'm not going to marry you. I'm not going to be your sissy baby, now PLEASE let me go. I'm not joking, I'll call Grandpa Max over and get you in SO much trouble." Ben huffed, trying to look intimidating but his outfit made that all but impossible. "Awww such a silly widdle gurl! Did widdle Benny forget that this is our parents couples retreat weekend? And gramp's is off on Plumber work! That means I got widdle Benny to myself allll weekend." Gwen gushed and came over, lifting him out of the crib with ease and holding him up so she could give his padded rump a sniff. "Ah crap baskets..That was THIS weekend?" Ben whined, not even bothering to point out he would of said something if he had used the diapers. He'd tried to make plans to hang out with cooper for that weekend but had clearly gotten his dates wrong and was capital S screwed for the next 48 hours. "Hmm Doesn't smell like Benny has made me a present yet..but I know you will soon enough. you just love to make presents for your hubby don't you?" Gwen coo'ed and moved him down enough she could give him a Eskimo kiss. "Oh yeah. highlight of my weekend, fudging a diaper." Ben said sarcastically. "Now now, I know you're just grumpy because you didn't get to play with me last night, but I had to take care of a few things. But we have allll weekend sweetie. And if you promise to be a good little gurl for me I'll be nice and spoil you with all the junk food you want. After all you need to put on some baby fat." Gwen chuckled and kissed his cheek. Ben groaned, Gwen was always trying to chub him up, but given the fact he'd been subjected to the 'wonder's' of a baby food and formula weekend before, and the fact he was trapped regardless he just hung his head. "Fine, I'll play along. but for the record, you need help." Ben huffed. "Oh please, I can handle my widdle wife for a weekend!" Gwen chuckled and carried Ben off towards the kitchen.

Strapped into a wooden but painted light pink high chair, Ben played along with his crazy cousin and held up his arms so she could remove his top and replace it with a hello kitty bib. "Now Benny, if I remove your mitten's and let you feed yourself, you're not gonna do something stupid and try and use your silly little watch now are you?" Gwen asked. Considering between her bulk and her magic Gwen out classed most of Ben's aliens anyways and she always made sure he was sorry for trying to go alien on her after he timed out, Ben decided that having the freedom to feed himself was worth playing along. "Yeah I'll be good.." Ben said and held up his hands. She studied his face for a second, as if deciding whether or not to trust him then smiled. "I believe you. I really hope we can have a nice weekend together and I don't end up having to spank you. it hurts me then it does you when I have to." Gwen said then moved to free up Ben's hands. 'Bullshit on that one!' Ben thought but wisely kept his thoughts to himself and just flexed his fingers, and looked at the watch. "I'm not going alien, I'm just checking to make sure no alien got primed to go while the mitten on so I don't accidentally go alien and get my cheeks tanned." He said, and then after getting a smirk and a nod from Gwen checked the watch. Thankfully nothing was primed and he made sure to show the psycho and then wiggled in the high chair as he waited on her to plate up some num nums for him. Everything else aside, Gwen really was a excellent cook and she didn't hold back as she put the piled high plate of scrambled eggs and Bacon and some pancakes down in front of Ben and handed him a baby fork and knife. She had also poured on the maple syrup and set down a one liter baby bottle full of chocolate milk for him and kissed his cheek. "Eat up little lady.Oh, did you want me to put a show or something on for you while you eat up? I think Sumo slammers is having a marathon on channel 6 today." Gwen asked, nodding to the Kitchen TV her mom had had put in back during the 90's. "..That would be agreeable yes." Ben said, trying not to break out into a silly grin before he started to dig into the food, watching as Gwen was proven right. 'you know.. the huggies and drag aside, I could get used to being spoiled like this.' Ben thought.

Gwen smirked as she watched Ben chow down and kick his legs ideally in the high chair. while she would of preferred he watch something a little less violent she had changed up her usual plan for weekend sessions with her soon to be sissy bride. Trying to enforce the baby food and sissy programs only made him fight it more so she was gonna meet him halfway and try to ease him more into baby gurlhood. One added bonus though she noticed with a big grin while she had her normal bowl of high protein gruel was that Ben was even more of a messy eater then normal as he watched his show, getting syrup all over his face and bib and eggs and bits of bacon were all over the place. 'He's such a big baby! I love it!' She mentally squealed. It only got better as halfway though his plate, he reached for his his ba-ba and held it with BOTH hands like a good baby gurl and she was fighting the urge to squeal out loud. Anytime she tended to praise him for his babyish behavior he always tried to cut it out. Finishing her gruel she washed it down with a protein drink and noted that Ben was squirming around lots in his high chair, with most of his food gone and the little sissy had packed away HALF of his milk already. "Doing alright over there baby gurl?" She asked. Ben seemed to snap out of his show induced trance and blushed. "I uh..I gonna potty..and I think I got a gas bubble stuck." He said, poking two fingers together. '..Is he asking me to burp him?' Gwen wondered but was ALL grin's "Well that's no good! here, let me help you out. whats a little gas between husband and wife?" She said. Coming over she grabbed a dish towel and a wet dish rag, putting the towel over one shoulder and then moved Ben's num num's and ba-ba over onto the kitchen table and removed his bib. washing the big baby's face and chest down she removed the tray and lifted him up, swooning as his legs wrapped around her and he helped her get his head over the towel. Rubbing his back she gave it all of three firm but gentle pats before Ben let out a massive belch over her shoulder and spit up a little bit of milk. "Uh...T-Thanks Gwen." A sheepish Ben half coo'ed and then switched shoulders and nuzzled into her. "Do you want me to set you down so you can go and hide while you make potty?" She offered, clearly trying to meet him half way was working wonders. "I..I Uh..no." Ben Mewed into her shoulder, which of course muffled his voice but she got the jest of it. "You wanna use your diapers while your bride to be holds you tight and praises you for being a good girl?" Gwen asked, grinning ear to ear and holding Ben close and rubbing his lower back. "I..I dunno..Maybe..I mean..If I can't use the potty..I guess it's.." Ben Mumbled into her shoulder, She could tell he'd of rather used the bathroom, which was a touch disappointing to her but still, with him willing to go in his pampers while she held him being his second choice that meant she was making headwind. "Do you wanna keep your face in my big strong shoulder or be turned around facing away from my?" She asked, then leaned down and kissed his neck, knowing from Julie (who had dumped Ben mostly because she shipped the pair) just how much he loved having his neck kissed and nibbled on. Case and point Ben didn't even really reply, just snuggled into her harder. Taking that as a answer Gwen made her way over to a kitchen chair and took a seat, Ben's legs on either side of her lap and his arms hugging her, while one of her strong hands rubbed and patted his pampered bottom. Her other hand was rubbing and pressing on certain spots on Ben's back and it didn't take loud before her efforts were rewarded as a muffled poot came out his backside, then anther and anther and she could feel him starting to push and grunt. "That's it baby gurl, let it all out. make me a nice big present." Gwen coo'ed sweetly in his ear and follow up with giving him a gentle start of a hickey on his neck as he began to fill his pretty pink diapers. "G-Gwen! Dun! N-Not while I'm pooping!" Ben meekly whimpered, though he tilted his head in such a fashion that he was offering her a even better shot at his neck. "Heh, Somebodies gonna be a tsundere diaper sissy for me huh? That's ok. I think it's adorable." Gwen chuckled, feeling the lumps of Ben's 'present' to her fill up the back of his diapers and mentally giving thanks to whatever mage had made the spell that allowed her to only smell strawberries in cream as Ben loaded his huggies. 'Maybe if he's a good gurl at our wedding, on our honeymoon I'll cast it on him too.' Gwen thought. Food for thought later, She had a good little gurl dumping his guts in his pampers for her and whimpering for his reward and as such, she leaned down and started to gently nibble and suck away on Ben's neck, smirking as the little sissy let out a soft "I love you.." as she did so.

The end

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atlafan · 4 years

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Take it Slow - Part One

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry. (There eventually be smut, but this part is mostly fluff.)

You had been seeing each other for about three weeks. You still couldn’t believe you had agreed to meeting someone on a blind date. But you were so sick of the online dating scene, so when your good friend Niall from work told you he had a single friend, you jumped at the chance.

He didn’t have any social media, there was an Instagram with his name, but no photos of him. Only pictures he had taken. He was a photographer, and a good one at that. Niall had roomed with him during their undergrad, and stayed mates after graduation. You had wondered why he never mentioned this single friend before.

“Well, after your last break up, I honestly didn’t think you’d ever want to look at another man.” He shyly told you in the break room one day.

It was true, your last break up was a really bad one. It was barely even a break up though because you two were barely dating. You had sex with him rather quick, and after him blowing you off two separate times, he ended things over a text. This sent you into a rather depressive episode. You vowed to not jump into bed with a guy quite so quickly ever again, even if you really wanted to.

You begged Niall to see a picture of him, but he said no. You tried to snoop around Niall’s Facebook page, but you couldn’t be certain of who he was. All you knew was his name: Harry Styles. Niall wouldn’t even give you his number to arrange the date.

“I’ll set everything up for the both of ya, and if it goes well then you can both take it from there.”

You were happy to have a best friend at work. Your days would be boring without each other. You and Niall were two of the younger people in your office, and you both felt it was necessary to stick together.

“What are you doing this Saturday night?” He asked you Wednesday morning, handing you a coffee. You each took turns buying coffee for the other. Today was his turn.

“Um, I think I was just going to binge watch something on Netflix. Why?”

“Harry was wondering if you’d be interested in dinner.”

“Oh he was?” You raise an eyebrow, and take a sip of your coffee.

“Yes, well I nudged him a little, but I’ve told him a lot about you and he’s very interested.” You blush at the thought.

“Well, I’m definitely free for dinner. Where was he thinking?”

“You’re both vegetarian, well, he’s a vegan actually, but he knows of this really great tapas place that has a lot of meatless options.”

“Wow, vegan. I like tapas so that works for me. What time?”

“Seven. I’ll text you the name of the place so you can look it up.”

“Thanks, this should be fun.” You smile at your friend.

Friday night after work, you decide to do a little shopping. After researching the restaurant, you knew you needed something a little nicer to wear, and you didn’t feel like anything in your closet would make a lasting impression. You drove out to the mall, cursing at yourself for not just going Saturday morning. The parking was crazy, and it felt like everyone and their brother was there. You stumbled into the Macy’s and looked around at their cocktail dresses. You wanted something to accentuate your best features, but also wanted to leave a little mystery. You settle on a basic, black dress. It was form fitting, and hugged just above the midpoint of your thighs. It had short, capped sleeves, and the neckline came just high enough to cover most of your cleavage. It was perfect. You knew you had shoes to match at home, so you didn’t waste any more time at the mall.

Saturday morning, you scrolled through countless hair and makeup tutorials on YouTube trying to find the one that suited you most. After getting frustrated, you settled on your go to hair style. You curled your hair, and waited a couple of hours to brush it out. You then had perfect waves, which almost looked natural. About an hour before you needed to leave, you put your makeup on. You decided to go with a subtle purple to make your green eyes pop, and swept some liquid eye liner over it. You contoured your face (something you had gotten quite good at), and then put your new black dress on. Happy with your appearance, you slide on some purple some nude, strappy heels, and headed out.

As you got closer to the restaurant, you grew nervous. You texted Niall to tell him it was silly you’d be walking into a place, looking for someone you had never met. He asked you what you were wearing, and he would tell Harry to look for you. But what if you got there first? What if he never shows up? How dare he! You thought. You shook the thought from your head and drove up to the restaurant. You circled around back where the parking was. You smoothed out your dress, praying it hadn’t wrinkled, before you walked in. Taking a deep breath, you looked around.

The place was even nicer in person. There was a really big bar, and the dining area looked so elegant. He must do well for himself if he likes this place. Before the hostess could greet you, you saw a somewhat familiar face walking towards you, but you couldn’t place where you had seen him before.

“(y/n)?” He asked.

“Um, yeah, are you Harry?”

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you.” He puts an awkward hand out to shake, and you take it just as awkwardly. “That was weird.” He says in a laugh. “I didn’t know if it would be appropriate to hug you.” You runs a hand through his hair.

“No, no, it was very polite. It’s nice to meet you too. You found me pretty quick.” You smiled at him.

“Niall had just texted me explaining what you were wearing. I happened to look up, and there you were.” He smiled back. That smile…you just remembered him.

“Did you happen to go to Niall’s holiday party last year?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Um, yeah. Were you there too?”

“Yes, I was gonna say you looked familiar. I don’t think we properly spoke to each other there.”

“Definitely not, I would’ve remembered you if we had.” You feel your cheeks flush and let out a simple laugh. “Well, our table should be ready. Let me check with the hostess.”

Harry walks over to the woman, who hands two menus to one of the waiters. He says you can follow him. Harry gestures to let you go first. You wondered if it was so he could check you out, but he didn’t seem like the type. He looked so handsome. His hair was short, but not too short that you couldn’t make out his curls. His eyes were green like yours, and he was wearing a pair of blue dress pants with a white button up shirt.

As you both sat down at your table for two, you noticed his nails were painted. How you didn’t notice earlier when you shook his hand, you weren’t sure. Every other nail was this deep orange, and the other a navy blue. You smiled at it. At least he was the type of guy to take care of his nails. He had a few rings on as well, and you could see a couple of tattoos. You assumed he had a sleeve since you couldn’t see the rest of the anchor on his wrist. After a moment you heard him couch, and you realized you were staring. Your eyes darted up to his.

“Sorry, I was just admiring your, um, rings.” Pointing to the H and S.

“Oh, thanks, they were a gift from my mum a few years back.” His accent was already so intoxicating. Now you figured out how him and Niall got roomed together, they both must’ve been international students. “You were looking at my nails too?” Your face feels hot, and you feel yourself sweat a little. “It’s alright, a lot of people stare.”

“No, it wasn’t staring, necessarily. I was admiring it as well. I think more men should get their nails done. It looks nice. I love getting mine done, see?” You put your hand out, and show him your black nails. “I get the shellac so they last longer, totally worth it.” He smiles at you. “How long have you been painting them for?”

“Oh god, years. I mostly started out with black, but then I got bored with it. I felt like I was only doing that color because it ‘masculine’.” He holds up air quotes at the word. “Then I started experimenting with more vibrant colors. I like doing pink and blue a lot, but this also suits me. Then I started getting creative with the placement of the colors.”

“I’ll do an accent nail once in a while myself, but I do like the style of every other color. Maybe I’ll try it some time.”

“I know it doesn’t look super professional, but since I’m not in an office I can kind of do what I want.” He shrugs.

“Right, you’re a photographer?”

“Mhm. Mostly for, like, outdoors type of things. I really like taking pictures at night. But I’ll also do a little freelance work for people who want a photoshoot. I usually clean up good during the wedding season.”

You got so lost in conversation, you nearly forgot you were at a restaurant. A waitress comes over, frantically, and out of breath.

“Hi folks, so sorry for the wait. We got slammed all at once.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.” You beamed at her. Remembering your time in the food service industry.

“Can I start you two off with any drinks?” You look at each other, and he gestures for you to go first.

“Um, could I please have a vodka tonic, with titos, and lime?” He gives you a surprised smirk, probably expecting you to have just ordered a glass of wine.

“Sure thing, and for you sir?”

“I’ll have the same as her, please.” The waitress nods, and walks away.

“I take it that’s your drink?”

“Yeah, I’m not really a wine with dinner kind of gal.” The strange thing was, any time you had wine with dinner, you always got drunk. Vodka, however, you didn’t feel as much. You felt sager having that. “You like vodka too?”

“Once in a while, it tastes good with whatever you eat.”

“We should look at the menu and figure out what dishes we want so it’s easier for her when she comes back. I feel bad she was so out of breath coming over here.”

“Good idea.”

The waitress comes back with your drinks, and takes your order. You both had decides on some flat bread with arugula and goat cheese. It wasn’t vegan, but Harry didn’t mind. You also ordered some roasted cauliflower that came with a dipping sauce.

“How long have you been a vegetarian for?” He asks you, taking a sip of his drink.

“Um, a little over a year. I wouldn’t necessarily call it being a vegetarian, I just don’t eat meat.”

“What made you want to stop eating meat?”

“Well, it just didn’t make me feel good. My doctor also told me to straight up lay off the red meat. I got sick of eating chicken and fish, and if I’m being honest the thought of eating it just started to make me not feel good. I do still enjoy the smell of a fresh steak on the grill.”

“So you did it out of health instead of ethics?”

“Yup. I don’t have much dairy either. I love cheese so I keep that in my diet, but I have up milk a long time ago. I stick to coconut milk mostly if I need my fix. What made you go vegan?”

“Health benefits, I suppose. I was also taking a lot of pictures of animals for this one magazine and it just made it hard to even eat fish. I think it’s been five years now.”

“Good for you, that’s incredible.” You take sip of your drink, and notice the bar tender was a little heavy handed with the vodka.

“So, you met Niall at work right?”

“Mhm.”

“I know what he does there, but what do you do?”

“I’m on our marketing team, with him. He and I tag team a lot of projects. I work more with our digital pieces. I photopshop images, and edit video.”

“What made you go into that?”

“Well, when I was younger I wanted to be a film maker, but I fell in love with marketing, and put the film making on the back burner. I still write now and then for fun.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone say they loved marketing before.”

“Well, it’s not so much the marketing, it’s more how creating the right content can change someone’s point of view.”

A food runner brings your food to your table. You both put your napkins in your laps, and dig in.

“Mmm.” You lick your lips after taking a bit of the flatbread. “This is delicious. Great choice.”

“Thanks, I like coming here, there are just so many options.” You see him pick off most of the goat cheese, and feel a little guilty.

“We didn’t need to get this type of flatbread. I feel terrible you can’t fully enjoy it.”

“It’s no big deal really, I can eat everything else on it.” He gives you a reassuring smile.

The waitress comes over to check on you.

“Can I get you both another drink?”

“I’ll have another, yeah. (y/n)?”

“Um, sure, that would be great.” You promised yourself you’d nurse the next one.

“Tell me about Niall in college, I’m dying to know what he was like.”

“Oh, he was rambunctious. Lad never had any clothes on, then again, neither did I.” You nearly choke on your drink. “I think that’s why we got on so well, neither of us liked wearing more than our trousers.”

“Were you both international students?”

“Yup, but we didn’t room together until our second year. We had met at one of the international student events, and we clicked. They made us room with other students from the states to get a more well-rounded experience.” He shrugs. “I remember this one time he came with me to get a tattoo, and he nearly pissed himself.” He lets out a laugh.

“Niall doesn’t have any tattoos.” You furrow your eyebrows and smile.

“No, he definitely does not. He was being a good mate and came with me when I got my first really big one. I have a butterfly here.” He puts his palm flat just under his breast plate.

“What made you want to get a butterfly?”

“Don’t know, I just like the way they look. They have an odd beauty to them.” You felt like you could listen to him talk all night. But your trance was broken when your waitress brought the check over. She told you no rush, but you knew how these things went. You knew she probably needed to get the table turned soon.

You both reached for the check, but Harry snatched it away. He gave you a “get real” kind of look, took his wallet out, and set his credit card inside the small plastic flap, leaving the check on the edge of the table.

“At least let me pay the tip.”

“Sorry, can’t letcha do that, love. Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me would it?” Did he just call you love? It was something Niall did too, but not until he really got to know you. Maybe Harry’s alcohol was starting to hit him, the way it was hitting you. Maybe he just felt relaxed around you.

“I thought you were more progressive than that?” You said jokingly.

“Oh, I am. But I also abide by the rules that whoever asked who out should pay.”

“Okay, that’s a pretty respectable rule, I’ll give you that.”

The waitress sweeps by the table to grab the credit card, and is back in minutes. Harry takes out some cash from his wallet, and signs the slip of paper.

“Thank you.” You say to him.

“Don’t mention it.” He smiles back. “Shall we?” He gets up first, and extends a hand to you to help you up. “Did you park out back?”

“Yup.” You really didn’t want the night to end yet. You look at your watch and it’s only almost nine.

“Great, so did I.”

He walks closely next to you on your wat to the parking lot.

“That’s me.” You point to your car. He walks you over to it, and you lean against your door. “I had a really nice time tonight.” You say looking down at your shoes, then back up at him.

“Me too.” He looks away for second, and runs a hand through his hair. He looks at you again. “Would it be alright to ask for your number?”

“Sure.” You reach into your purse and grab your cell phone. You hand it to him. “Feel free to just text yourself.” He smiles, and takes your phone, putting his number in.

“So, I take it you’d like to do this again?”

“Definitely.” He hands you back your phone, and put it back in your purse. In a bold move, you lean forward and give him a slight peck on the cheek. “Talk to you soon.”

You both blush, he smiles and lets out a nervous laugh. He opens your car door for you.

“Have a good rest of your evening.” He says to you.

“Same to you.”

You drive off, feeling your heart flutter. It was the perfect date. You were proud of yourself. Normally would have tried to make out with a man that attractive, but you showed wonderful restraint. You couldn’t wait for him to get in touch with you again.

#harry styles #hs #hs1 #hs2 #harry styles fic #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #fic #hope yall like it #niall horan #niall #harry styles y/n fic #harry styles imagine

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maknaesdancersrappers · 4 years

Text

kinkmas2019: for old times’ sake

member/s: Johnny & Jaehyun

warning/s: DP, triolism, & cuckold

wc: 4.4k

a/n: i just wanna tell everyone to read and give love to chocojaehyun’s philophobia uwu

“Honey.”

You look up from folding the laundry fresh from the dryer and wait for your husband appear from the open door. In a few seconds, he peeks in and smiles at you.

“Honey, would you mind if a friend stays over for a few days?”

“I’d have to clean up the guest room, but I don’t mind. Which friend of yours is staying over?”

Johnny walks over and sits beside you, picking up a shirt and began to fold it. You smile to yourself, although you didn’t mind doing chores, he still wanted to help you with them. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you about him. He’s my best friend from Korea, met him during middle school. Man, we were inseparable until high school graduation.”

“And then you moved away.” You finished for him and he sighed with a nod.

“Yeah. We kept in contact and all, I even wanted to invite him to our wedding, but times were rough for him back then.” He frowns for a moment, “He has a job opportunity here and he doesn’t want to look into buying an apartment if he isn’t sure about getting the job. You’ll love him, honey. He’s great company.”

You hummed, moving onto the next basket of laundry that needed folding, “What’s his name?”

“Jaehyun.”

“And he ended up in the hospital because of those 4 extra shots of espresso!”

You gasped, trying to stop yourself from laughing; especially not at the fact your husband could have died way back, “You are not allowed to have anymore coffee, Johnny!”

“That was years ago! And I don’t even put a single extra shot of espresso in my coffee anymore!” He whines before smacking Jaehyun’s shoulder with the back of his hand, “Of all the stories, really?”

Jaehyun merely chuckles, taking a sip from the coffee you prepared for him. His flight arrived at night and Johnny picked him up from the airport. When they arrived home, it was around two in the morning and you had fallen back asleep despite promising to stay awake for when they came back.

You woke up early to prepare a complete breakfast, not sure if he had any food allergies so you made sure to even add vegetarian and vegan options. Fortunately, Jaehyun wasn’t a picky eater. Johnny introduced you when they woke up from the smell of freshly brewed coffee and Jaehyun’s been gossiping about Johnny’s high school life with you for the past hour.

“Johnny already told me how you two met, but I want to hear your side of the story. Is it true you kept going back to the cafe you saw him at?”

You scoffed in disbelief, darting your eyes at Johnny, who suddenly took immense interest in finding the berries in his oatmeal. “Is that what he told you? Because in my memory, I was the regular at the cafe and it was him that kept coming back. And I know the baristas can back me up on it.”

Jaehyun snorts, “I knew you made it sound too good to be true.”

Johnny rolls his eyes, “Either way! We met at a cafe, I asked her out, and here we are three years later.”

“How about you, Jaehyun? Do you have anyone in your life?”

He dramatically sighs, prompting Johnny to snicker. He shakes his head at you, “No, I don’t. I’m not into committed relationships.”

Your husband leans closer to you and loudly whispers, “This guy sleeps around; you know how it goes, that whole fuck boy trope.”

“Ya!” Jaehyun scolds, “That was high school! I’ve changed. Give me some credit!”

The three of you finished breakfast and Jaehyun insists he does the dishes, but you refuse, “Not today. I’m sure you’re still tired from your flight and this just routine for me; it might take awhile for me to get used to a third person in the house.”

You hadn’t meant to be a housewife, but ever since you got laid off from work from months ago, you hadn’t found another one and Johnny thought it would be best you rest for a bit instead of going through multiple rejections. You were glad that you had saved up a lot of your money to not worry about paying for your share of the bills.

“Don’t argue with her,” Johnny conspires behind Jaehyun, “Her house, her rules.”

They let you do your chores; Johnny gets ready for his work and Jaehyun keeps to himself in his room, probably unpacking and catching a few more hours of sleep before he leaves before lunchtime for the interview.

For the next days, it almost feels like he wasn’t there at all. You only ever interacted with him when Johnny was around.

One night, as Johnny cuddled you to sleep, you meekly asked him about how Jaehyun felt about you.

“I think he’s just keeping his distance; you’re my wife and all.”

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

Johnny shrugs, “Well… I never told you but,”

“Oh my god, you two fucked before, didn’t you?”

He starts laughing, “No! Well—”

You gasped, prying your arms away and turning to face him, “I never knew you were gay!”

“I’m not! Honey, listen to me for a second, alright? Jaehyun and I used to… share…”

The room is dead silent; even the soft music from Jaehyun’s room across the hall could be heard through the walls. You blinked at him, “Share… girls…?”

“Don’t say it like that; you make it sound like we’re objectifying women. I mean, we participated in a lot of… threesomes.”

“Oh.” You feel yourself sinking back into the bed.

Johnny sighs, moving you back around to spoon you. His breath is right in your ear when he starts to explain, “I didn’t really tell you about him because then I’d feel compelled to tell you about everything we did and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.”

“Your past doesn’t define you, baby,” You comforted, “And so what if you were into threesomes? People have different things that get you off.”

“Yeah. Now only you get me off.” He playfully bites your earlobe and you laughed, shying away from the action.

“I’m surprised you had girls agreeing to sleep with both of the same time.”

“It’s ‘cause…” Johnny trails off, “Those girls were… uhm, our exes.”

You turned your head to face him, “What?”

He groans, dragging his hand over his face, “We’d convinced our then-girlfriends into having the other join, sometimes we’d just watch and—”

“Jack off in the corner?” You finished for him with a surprised hitch in your voice. You never thought your husband was into that; he gets jealous when someone from your old work was too buddy with you and he was solely devoted to you, never giving you reason to suspect him for cheating. Yet here you are finding out he lets his best friend sleep with his girlfriends with or without him in the equation. You gasp, slow and softly, “Do you want him to fuck me?”

“W-wha— what? N-no?”

“Then why did your dick twitch against my ass when I asked that?” You sit up once more and stared him down, “Johnny, honesty doesn’t hurt.”

“I don’t want you to think that the idea is so appealing that you’ll force yourself to consider it.”

You suck your lips in and released it with a pop, “Okay, but what if… I’m curious?”

“Really?” He sits up as well, “Honey, I swear you don’t have to say these things for me.”

“No, I’m genuinely curious!” You defended, “I wasn’t very sexually adventurous—and you know that.”

Johnny puts his hands over yours, running his thumb over your knuckles. He’s deep in thought; contemplating the idea until you leaned forward and kissed his cheek, catching him off guard.

“Unless, you don’t want me to, then that’s fine.”

“It’s just,” He licks his lips, “I don’t know how Jaehyun would feel about it. Sure, we did it back then, but that was different. Those were girlfriends, y-you’re my wife.”

“Well, it’s your call, love.” You sighed, grinning as you suddenly straddled his lap and he stares up at you with wide eyes, “Now, let’s take care of that boner you got, hm?”

You were setting the table when Johnny and Jaehyun came back home; earlier today, Jaehyun would be finding out if he’s getting the job or he’ll be finding the next flight home. They paced up to you with somber expressions and you feel your heart sink, “Did you get the job?”

They share a solemn expression and your brain starts formulating sympathetic responses for both of them until Jaehyun smiles and they both pull out wine bottles in each hand from behind their backs. “I got the job!”

“Oh my god! Jaehyun, congrats!”

He shrugs, “It’s at a completely different state though, but still a decent paying job and they’ll provide me an apartment!”

“This calls for a celebration!”

The wine they brought home was downed within the next two hours, the three of you all giddily share the last glasses in the living room while talking about anything under the sun. You weren’t a lightweight but considering this was the fourth bottle of red wine, you were definitely borderline drunk.

“I can’t thank you guys enough for letting me stay this week.” Jaehyun clears his throat, “I promise when I’ll pay you guys back somehow; maybe I’ll host you guys in my new place if it’s big enough.”

“We’ll look forward to that.” Johnny raises his glass for a toast and Jaehyun clinks his glass against his and you join in. “Maybe by then, you’ll have a lady in your life.”

Jaehyun laughs at this, shaking his head in dismissal, “Maybe.”

You put your glass down and lay your head on Johnny’s shoulder, “Oh, Jaehyun, would you like me to introduce you to some of my friends? If you’re anything like Johnny, then my friends will like you right away.”

He tilts his head at the statement, curiously peering at the two of you, and Johnny chuckles, the vibration of it tickles you.

“Rumor has it [Y/N]’s friends all have a crush on me.” He shrugs the unoccupied shoulder and kisses your head, “But can you blame them?”

You playfully smack his chest and roll your eyes, “You put friendships at stake, John. If you hadn’t put a ring on it, they wouldn’t have stopped pining over you.”

Jaehyun whistles, “Never pegged you to be the type to ruin friendships, Johnny.”

“You know me, Jae, I know when boundaries are crossed.”

“What did you do…” You blurted out, unable to stop yourself from asking, “when the other’s girlfriend started to like the other…?”

Johnny freezes under your touch and Jaehyun’s eyes slowly blinked in confusion until he understood what you meant.

“Oh…” Your husband pauses, “Uhm, well, I don’t think we ever had to deal with something like that. But the girlfriends we had back then weren’t that serious; we’d prioritize our friendship, I guess?”

You look at Jaehyun, who nods to Johnny’s words. You press yourself onto Johnny, humming lowly, “Is that why you aren’t keen about sharing me?”

Jaehyun was drinking the last drop of his wine, almost choking it out when he heard your question. He stares at you briefly before moving his gaze up Johnny, who was at a loss for words.

Feeling brazen and fueled by the alcohol in your system, you sit up and put a hand on his chest, “You liked the idea of it last night.”

“What?” Jaehyun interjects, putting his wine glass on the coffee table, “I thought that phase was done, Johnny. She’s your wife. I can’t—”

“Why not?” You cut him off and he’s taken aback.

“I-I’m not an adulterer.”

“But you have my consent, if ever, and more importantly, the husband’s consent.”

Jaehyun brings his attention back to his friend, carefully asking with disbelief in his voice, “Johnny?”

He’d been awfully quiet the entire time, bringing a hand to your thigh and gently rubbed it. “You said the other day that you miss the good old days.”

“But she’s your wife.” Jaehyun repeats.

“She is and she’s also right… You know I wouldn’t do this with any other guy, man. No one’s gonna know except for the three of us and we’re celebrating right now; what better way to celebrate than having sex.”

“With your wife.”

You sighed, “Okay, if you’re not up to it, then I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

Jaehyun doesn’t say anything afterwards, twiddling his thumbs in awkwardness. Johnny takes the hint and announces that they should get ready for bed and you start cleaning up, but Jaehyun insists that he does that for you and you relent after Johnny convinces you to.

You pondered about the situation as you took a quick shower. It was a little disappointing that Jaehyun wasn’t up to it, but it didn’t entirely upset you either. The last thing you want to come off as to your husband’s best friend is that you’re a wanton woman and you most definitely didn’t want to force him into doing something he wasn’t comfortable with. It’s commendable that he cares about you and Johnny’s marriage more than getting laid and you might not have known him from way back, but you can tell that he’s matured from being the “fuck boy” Johnny claims him to be.

As you dry your body off with a towel, you can vaguely hear voices outside the room but think nothing of it. Maybe Jaehyun was just dropping by to say good night or something. You put your bathrobe on and tied it around your waist, flipping the light switch off as you stepped out. A gasp escapes you when you see Jaehyun standing by the foot of the bed with Johnny, your hand instinctively gripping at the chest area of your robe.

“Honey,” Johnny says, “Jaehyun changed his mind.”

Those words alone made your knees quiver in excitement, “Oh? What changed your mind?”

He shrugs his shoulders, forcing out a chuckle, “I don’t know… for old time’s sake?”

“Are you still up for it, hon?”

You nodded your head, trying not to make it seem like you’re eager to do so.

Johnny turns to Jaehyun, “Well, she’s all yours.”

“No ground rules? Uhm, I don’t have a condom.”

“No condom. I have an implant,” You wave your hand, “Johnny and I aren’t financially ready to have kids so we don’t need the condom if you’re worried about accidentally impregnating me.”

“Okay, then.”

“Ah,” Johnny exclaims just as he sits on the chaise where you do your make up, “Her ass is mine. I miss it.”

You roll your eyes at him, scoffing to yourself as you approached Jaehyun. You looked up at him, seeing the faintest sun spots across his cheeks and the daintiest mole near his eye. During the entire time week, you never stood this close to him. “Can you lead and I’ll just… follow along?”

He gives you an easy smile, nodding at your request. “Okay.” He whispers.

Jaehyun reaches up behind you, tugging at the bun you put your hair into before getting into the shower until your tresses cascade down your back. He puts his hand on the knot you made over your robe and waits for you to give him a signal before pulling it to release the sash.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears; almost feeling scandalized to be undressed by a man who isn’t your husband. You glanced at him, seeing his figure leaned back and enjoying the show so far.

“Don’t look at me, love. I’m not the one touching you.” He reminds and you bring your face back up to Jaehyun.

He starts to peel the robe off you, one shoulder at a time, before he lets it fall to the floor. Under his breath, you could hear the softest sound of astonishment as his eyes raked down your body, making you feel more confident than shy.

Jaehyun ducks his head down and you think he’s about to kiss you, but he dives straight onto the crook of your neck, giving it the softest little pecks. His hands ghosted over your waist, like he was still unsure if he could touch you.

You pulled him closer by the nape, threading your fingers through his hair, and pushed your bare chest against him as an invitation for him to hold you.

He gets the hint, gliding his palms over your back. His hands were so warm, a little rough, but the way they danced over your skin made it seem otherwise. He starts to nudge you, moving you closer to the bed and sat you down on it.

You watched him pull his shirt off and you almost felt your mouth water at the sight of his body; and you thought Johnny was fit. Jaehyun’s muscles were more defined, rippling with every movement he made. You’re distracted by the evident outline of his cock in his pants and you looked up at him as you touched his belt.

He gives you a little nod and you begin to unbuckle his belt and pop the button of his pants, like a child eagerly opening a birthday present. You push his pants down and Johnny chuckles at the corner of the room, “Oh, Jae, you’re gonna love this.”

With the praise from your husband, you hook your fingers over Jaehyun’s underwear and tugged it down until it joined his pants around his ankles. His cock bobbed as it escaped its confines, not fully hard, the head was blush pink with prominent veins trailing down his length.

You took him into your hand, lightly squeezing the base before running your fist along his shaft repeatedly in a languid motion. You felt him grow in your hand, thicker and longer with every throb; at the first pearl of pre-cum, you took him in your mouth and Jaehyun groaned, instinctively putting a hand on the back of your head.

You inched your way down, easing him closer to the back of your throat; flattening your tongue against the underside. When you hollowed out your cheeks, he curses; gripping at your hair. The pain zaps through your scalp and it makes you moan, which sends extra vibrations around his cock. You grab his hips and hold him steady, taking all of him into your mouth until the tip is right at your throat and you can feel him about to cum.

But then Jaehyun pulls you away, forcing you onto your back on the bed with a surprised gasp.

“I’m sorry, was that too harsh?”

“Don’t worry, she likes it rough.” Johnny has a hand over his crotch, palming himself over his pants.

You scoot further into the bed, spreading your legs to present yourself to Jaehyun. You bite down on your lip, turned on by seeing your husband touch himself and Jaehyun’s cock dripping with your saliva.

He crawls over your body, kissing up your legs, hips, and settled one of your breasts, sucking at your nipple while thumbing your clit. He pushes two fingers inside of you with an embarrassingly loud squelch; your walls welcoming his fingers eagerly.

“You’re so wet.” Jaehyun hums, moving his mouth over to your other nipple.

You start to writhe once he reaches deep enough to brush his fingertips over your sweet spot. You buck right into his hand and the sight makes Jaehyun chuckle.

“Are you already coming? From my fingers alone?”

He retracts his fingers and sits up, spreading your essence that coated his fingers over his cock before propping your legs over his thighs.

You impatiently waited to have him, switching your gaze to Johnny, who had kicked his own pants off and seeing your husband’s cock, red and leaking, only whet your sexual appetite. Your attention is brought back to Jaehyun when he runs his tip along your folds, teasing you for a few seconds until he stops right at your entrance and begins to push in.

You gasped, sitting up and throwing an arm around Jaehyun’s shoulders. You watched as enters further into you; an abhorrent scene of another man sinking his cock inside your depths that only your husband had access for the past three years.

Jaehyun scoops you up by your ass, having you straddle him as he knelt. “Can you show me how you ride Johnny, [Y/N]?”

“Of course,” You laughed, putting both your hands on his shoulders and raised your hips up, “I’ll show you how I make him go crazy.”

You sank back down him immediately, making sure you clenched when he was inside you all the way to the hilt before repeating the action. Maybe you’ve grown accustomed to Johnny’s dick because everything felt different with Jaehyun; the way he stretched you, the way he hit deep inside, how he held onto you, and urge you to keep going.

“Jesus Christ.” He groaned, falling back a bit, letting go of your hips to support his weight.

“She’s great, isn’t she?” Johnny comes up behind you, shedding his shirt off, and taking the lube you two kept in the nightstand for special nights. He coats his cock with what’s left in the tube, a telltale sign how much you’ve used it, and kisses you, using his clean hand to cup your face. “Been addicted to her pussy since the first time.”

You giggled at him, only to gasp when his (very cold) lube coated fingers probed your anus. You sucked your bottom lip in when he pushes a finger inside.

“Ah—” Jaehyun hisses, “You’re getting tighter.”

“[Y/N] is just excited.” Johnny gets onto the bed behind you, replacing his finger with the head of his cock. “Hell, had I known she wanted to be in a threesome, I would have booked you a flight here myself.”

He eases himself inside of you and you halt your movements on Jaehyun, mewling as you took every inch of Johnny. Jaehyun sits back up, guiding your legs around his waist with a wicked smile on his face. It was a little unsettling to see his scheming expression, but Johnny trusted him and that’s enough for you to trust him as well.

“I’m not gonna last long.” Jaehyun admits, gripping at your ass and spreading it apart for Johnny.

“Let’s show my wife how we did it back then, hm?” Johnny kisses your neck.

They start to thrust into you in pattern that seemed premeditated; when one was entering, the other is pulling out. Each of them had their own particular strength when they thrusted and you’re a moaning mess in between, holding onto Jaehyun for some sort of support. Johnny’s hands roughly kneaded your breasts in his palms while kissing marks down your nape and shoulder.

You couldn’t stop the choked moans and gasps falling from your mouth, overwhelmed with so much pleasure you’ve never had before. You couldn’t even open your eyes, tightly shutting them knowing they’d just roll back into your head. The knot in your stomach is unfurling at such a fast rate that you didn’t feel your orgasm hitting you until you’re twitching violently, trapped between two strong bodies. You let out a cry, slamming your back against Johnny’s chest and digging your nails in Jaehyun’s biceps.

Johnny angles your head towards him, drowning your cries with a kiss. “You’re doing good, baby. Can you hold on for me and Jaehyun, hm?”

You mewled, unable to stop your body’s trembling, gasping for air as if it’s been knocked right out of you.

“I’m gonna cum.” Jaehyun grits through his teeth, hips moving a little more desperately and unsyncing with Johnny’s movement, causing another whine to emanate from you.

“Inside.” You begged, peeking out from one eye, “Cum inside.”

Jaehyun looks at Johnny, who nods at him.

“I’m close, too.” Johnny grunts, keeping the pace of his thrusts.

You heaved loudly, feeling another wave of your orgasm coming. You take one of their hands and put one over each breast, motioning for them to squeeze them. They don’t have any qualms about it, quick to obey what you wanted.

Jaehyun comes first, stilling completely and shooting his hot seed — and even that felt foreign to you. He grunts, slowly pulling out despite your walls clamping down since Johnny was still going at it from behind. He falls down on his knees and pushes his leaking cum back inside of your with two fingers, plunging his digits repeatedly.

You come with Johnny; bodies reacting differently when ecstasy hits. You grabbed Jaehyun’s wrist in a vain effort to stop him, violently quaking in sporadic bursts. Johnny, on the other hand, hollows out into you, groaning loudly and throwing his head back. It’s been awhile since you’ve done it anally, but you swear it feels better and better every time.

Retracting his fingers, Jaehyun sits back on his legs, catching his breath as he watches Johnny pull out of you and smiles when he hugs you to his chest, kissing your hair. You’re on the brink of falling asleep when Jaehyun starts to move off the bed.

“I’m gonna shower.” He groans, stretching his back. “Damn, I can’t be that old.”

“I’m gonna shower, too.” Johnny moves you off of him and delicately lays you on the bed, “I’ll get you a wet towel.”

“Thanks.” You sighed, glancing at Jaehyun. “You, too, Jaehyun. Thanks for… this? I suppose.”

He chuckles, “Thanks, too.”

“If ever this pretty little thing wants a round two,” Johnny pinches your ass, making you yelp, “And you’re still single, then…”

“Yeah, sure. Give me a call.” Jaehyun stands up, after slipping his underwear on. “Maybe I’ll stay single for you guys.”

“Aw,” You coo, “Don’t hold back, Jaehyun. She’s out there; who knows, maybe she’d like to join.”

He snaps his head at you, eyes wide with shock before moving to Johnny, who does the same. You shrug your shoulders at them, faking innocence at what you’ve just suggested.

“I’ve made a monster.” He conspires, prompting you to slap his thigh. He laughs, grabbing your hand and kissing your ring. “But we’ll never know until we try.”

“Hey,” Jaehyun laughs, “Let me find her first!”

#nct smut #kinkmas2019 #johnny smut #jaehyun smut

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bluebird722 · 4 years

Text

Flying Over the City

Characters: John Stewart/Green Lantern, Anissa Pierce, Jennifer Pierce

Rating: K

Summary: While Metropolis is under a lockdown during the pandemic, John Stewart gives his nieces a night to remember.

Author’s Note: Because John is an uncle, but we don’t have any scenes of them interacting.

Disclaimer: Do I really even need to say it?

John Stewart enjoyed nights like these, when he did not have to be Green Lantern but could just be John Stewart, American, brother, uncle--the life he knew and loved. It wasn’t that he came to resent being Green Lantern, but it was nice to heat up burger patties, Spongebob macaroni and cheese, and mix frozen corn.

“Anissa, Jennifer,” he called out as he gave himself a bigger serving of each side dish, “dinner’s ready!”

Anissa and Jennifer, who were lying on their stomachs as they worked on puzzle books, immediately jumped to their feet and ran to the kitchen, squealing and grinning. “No running,” he reminded them of their mother’s rule, especially when with a babysitter.

“Thank you, Uncle John,” the sisters chorused after they washed their hands really good and pulled themselves into their chairs to the table that Jennifer helped set.

“You’re very welcome.” John cut the cheeseburger--the one with the weird vegan cheese that the girls enjoyed--in half. “All right. Let’s eat.”

Anissa took a big bite of her cheeseburger half and sipped from her glass of milk without slurping. “I hate this lockdown,” she grumbled. “I miss going to school, and it’s so hard doing school on the computer.”

“Yeah,” Jennifer agreed. “We can’t even have playdates with our friends anymore! We tried doing that--what’s it called--”

“Zoom,” Anissa reminded her.

“Yeah, Zoom,” Jennifer remembered, “and we couldn’t laugh or play like we would at Aunt Iris’s house!”

“I know it’s rough, girls,” John said before taking a bite of corn. “Even the League is struggling. We try to help in hospitals, give medical supplies, but even still, we’re being careful with social distancing.” He drank half his water and thought about Barry rushing around the country to hand out supplies to hospitals, then going to the Watchtower to wash himself and his uniform, before he could go home. Even Clark was almost inactive, what with a toddler at home.

Anissa swallowed a mouthful of her macaroni and scratched the back of her head. “At least we’re able to see you, Uncle John,” she said with a smile, “and at least Daddy has only a cold, not the thing.”

John was relieved when his former brother-in-law was revealed to only have a cold but encouraged his girls not to stay with him and play “nurses”. Lynn was very serious about social distancing and who was the actual nurse. “Fortunately, John was rather pleased that she was working the night shift now; it gave him the opportunity to look after his nieces and see them grow up.

“And I’m very thankful that I get to see you girls, too,” he agreed.

They finished their dinner and put everything in the dishwasher, and John turned on Netflix so the girls could watch something uplifting and would get them up to sing and dance, not Cat Grant or Tod Donner reporting on the latest death toll.

At seven, the girls brushed their teeth and put on their pajamas while John messages his fellow Lanterns, who had nothing to report. In some ways, crime was not as bad now that people were not leaving their homes. In other ways, it was worse now that people were fighting for toilet paper and basic needs. Sighing, John walked upstairs and knocked on the girls’ door. “Anissa, Jennifer, you girls in bed?”

“Almost,” said Anissa with a grunt.

Taking a deep breath, because he knew that they would tell their mother and quite possibly their father, he knocked again. “Why don’t you girls come out? I have something to show you.”

He heard a race to the door, a slap, and Jennifer hiss “Ouch”, and then his nieces presented themselves to him, Jennifer in her flannels and Anissa in her nightgown, both in fuzzy socks. “Come with me, you two,” he said as he held out his hands.

“Ani hit me, I didn’t--” Jennifer began, but he gently shook his head. She immediately went silent. He checked through the window to make sure no one was watching or outside. Then, with his ring of power, he shifted from his sweatshirt and sweatpants to his Green Lantern uniform.

Anissa and Jennifer giggled as they did ever since they were tiny, but then he used his ring to create a little magic carpet that swept them off their feet. With one hand, John opened the window, and the magic carpet reached upwards to shape masks around the girls’ noses and mouths. They stared at their uncle, their eyes wide, as he checked the area one last time and flew the girls outside.

As John closed the window, Anissa and Jennifer looked around their neighborhood at a view that they had never seen before. “Look--I can see the playground!” Anissa pointed.

“My friend’s house!” Jennifer squeaked.

Smiling to himself, John flew his nieces higher into the air, loving their tiny “whoa”s and gently sailed them over their neighborhood. Jennifer even took down her pigtails and let her curls fly behind her. She felt like Superman, with her hair as a cape.

John flew them to a familiar apartment and eased down to a particular window. Inside, Jefferson was in bed but not sleeping, though he sat up when he saw his daughters’ faces pressed together outside his window. They smiled with opened mouths and excitedly waved. After staring incredulously at John, he responded and blew two kisses, and then John gently moved the magic carpet away.

He took Anissa’s and Jennifer’s hands as he zapped away the magic carpet with the masks still in place, and the girls outstretched their arms, giggling as the wind brushed against their faces, and Uncle John rolled the three of them over on their way north.

Anissa gasped. “My school!” she pointed to her uncle, who remembered volunteering at bake sales and watching her in the school play a little over a year ago. John gently swooped her down to fly over the roof and let her point to her classroom. The decorations were gone, as were her and her classmates’ names on paper clouds, but she could still see her old desk, the corner where good students were allowed to sit in bean bags to read their stories, and her teacher making lessons on multiplication a fun game.

When John pulled her up, she threw her arm around his neck. “Thank you, Uncle John,” she said in a muffled voice.

“My pleasure,” he whispered. Then he flew her down to the heart of Metropolis, where few cars were on the road and several people who were on the streets were masks. They admired the giant globe of the Daily Planet and John let them orbit the globe three times.

“Ewe, bad man!” Anissa pointed to the LexCorp tower. John chuckled to himself and hoped that they didn’t hear, but then the girls blew raspberries, stuck out their tongue, and held out their middle fingers.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he gently scolded them as two green hands clamped over the ones they held out their middle fingers. “Where did you girls learn that?”

Both Anissa and Jennifer went still. “A movie?” they said so quickly that John couldn’t tell if they were lying or honest.

“Please don’t do that again,” he said. “It’s rude and makes you two look uneducated--promise?”

“Promise,” the sisters said together.

John flew them over to their favorite restaurant, Bilbo’s Diner, which was now closed but offered takeout services and accepted donations for people who were on welfare. “We should have ordered a pie to share after dinner,” John thought aloud.

“Tomorrow, maybe?” suggested Anissa.

“We could,” said John as he swept them away, “but a pie we can all share.”

“My favorite is chocolate,” said Jennifer, “but Ani and I share pecan all the time.”

“We can do that,” said John. He flew them to the nearby children’s hospital, where the virus had not infected any child but families had restricted visiting hours. The girls made their way onto his back so he could hide them while he waved to children who were still awake but alone. For fun, he used his ring’s power to spell out, GET WELL SOON!, U R STRONG!, and THINKING OF U! Nothing delighted him more than to see the delight on those faces, brightening their moods in this torrid time. It made him more grateful that his nieces, the only children that he cared about more than any others in the world, were in good health, but it was nice to expose them to less fortunate children.

Close to the children’s hospital was the Metropolis University Hospital, where John let the girls wave to medical staff and make heart shapes with their thumbs and fingers. The doctors and nurses did the same, but the patients stared in awe that a member of the Justice League brought over two little girls just to say hi.

Afterwards, John held the girls’ hands again and let them fly through the clouds, though Jennifer was disappointed that they didn’t feel like anything. When her uncle flew them down to look at the girls’ favorite ice cream place, Anissa turned to him. “This is so much fun, Uncle John,” she said. “Can we do it again?”

“Someday,” he promised. “But right now, it’s time for bed.”

As if on cue, Jennifer loudly yawned. John laughed and kindly flew them back to his sister’s house, where he opened the window and slid the girls inside. They kept yawning, loudly and silently, struggling to hold up their heads. Nevertheless, per their mother’s request, they washed their hands and faces before bed and let their uncle put them under the covers.

“Good night, girls,” he whispered.

Jennifer yawned. “Thank you, Uncle John,” she said through a yawn that nearly dislocated her jaw.

“Thank you for the best night ever,” Anissa added.

Smiling, John ruffled their hair. “Of course,” he said. “This is a trying time, but there’s still some good in the world...if you remember to be careful and take part in it.”

Jennifer and Anissa smiled before promptly falling asleep. John left the room and hoped that they had wonderful dreams of flying, unaware that they dreamed of being superheroes who would continue in their father’s and uncle’s footsteps in costume or as their mother in scrubs.

#young justice #fanfiction #John Stewart #green lantern #jennifer pierce #lightning #anissa pierce #thunder #justice league #lynn stewart #jefferson pierce #black lightning

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aleapoffaithfiction · 5 years

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VII.

"You learned to run from what you feel, and that's why you have nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control." ― Megan Chance

“See, Jesus was crucified, just for me.”

While leaning over to the side, I slyly slid another piece of my usual Mentos Pure Fresh “Fresh Mint” flavored gum into my mouth and sighed in relief at the immediate jolt of energy I felt as my teeth broke its round shape apart and the flavoring hit my taste buds. I had to sneak it, because like the child she often thinks that I am, but mother would have held out her gloved hand and viciously eyed me until I defeatedly spit it. According to her, it’s not ladylike to chew gum and especially in church, but I’m going to chew it regardless and I doubt God is concerned with that minuscule vice in my life.

“Give me a piece.” Celeste leaned over and whispered in my ear as she held her hand out and I dropped the bottle into her lap. She didn’t have as much of a chance of being caught as I did because I was sitting in the middle of both she and mommy.

We’re members of Emmanuel Baptist Church over on Lafayette Avenue. It’s right on the corner of St. James Place in the Clinton Hill section of Brooklyn and is under the leadership of Reverend Anthony L. Trufant and his wife Muriel. We’ve been fellows of this church for as long as I can remember and my mother is a good friend of the family; as was my father when he was living. There was even a point in time when I had somewhat of a friendship with their daughters but it was short lived because in my younger years I had far less of a tolerance for people who I cannot relate to. Celeste and I were baptized in this church, daddy’s memorial was here, and Celeste wed her now husband Preston here two years ago. Though I dreaded it, we used to come here every Sunday bright and early so that I wouldn’t miss Sunday school. I was in the youth group for a while but eventually bailed out on having to attend it because I heavily got into sports.

Every holiday season, I was forced to participate in the Christmas Nativity play, where I would play Mary no matter how much I wanted to be one of the Three Wise Men. I met the first guy I would have a crush on here, though it lasted all of a week. I was even apart of the choir for a short run and I’m not even sure why, because I’m no vocal powerhouse. I’m not even a vocal power shed if you let me tell it. Despite my lessening attendance over these last couple of years, I still consider this place to be my church home and it is where I will come back to until further notice.

“Sing it.” I glanced over at my mother as she raised a hand in response to Lucinda Moore’s voice. After days of calling and convincing me to come to Saturday night’s service simply for this concert, I finally agreed for the sake of appeasing her and I can’t say that I’m mad at it. Lucinda can sing from the depths of her gut and never fails to take a praise moment to its highest peak. She’s been in between singing and preaching for about an hour now with a sermon that calls for us all to “meet God all the way” because half-way isn’t going to cut it for anything that we do in life.

“Look at Mr. Weston.” As Lucinda continued to belt her way through “The Old Rugged Cross”, my eyes followed the direction of Celeste’s head and I instantly snickered at the sight of the older man ogling over my mother and her glimmering chocolate skin. Mr. Weston’s been trying his hardest to take my mother’s hand in marriage and yet she won’t even give him enough attention for him to take her out on a Saturday night date. I don’t think it’s her internal yearning for daddy that causes it.

Mr. Weston doesn’t even have finesse within his aging bones to woo her into sitting next to him during Sunday service. Then again, it might be the trifling aspects of who he is. When he received the phone call that his wife had been rushed to the hospital after having a sudden heart attack, he’d been out with his mistress and had the audacity to drive over to the hospital with the mistress still in the car with him. Mrs. Weston passed away that day, but every damn body sat up in here side eying the hell out of him as he wailed over her during the funeral. If it’s up to me, he’ll never date my mother because of all of that nonsense.

Mrs. Williams is the one who wants him. Or is it Mrs. Davis? Maybe Mrs. Wright? I lost count after the third husband. And then there’s her sister Denise who is about the most judgmental person I know. The woman has something to say about everyone’s kids except her own, especially her daughter Tiffany, who has made it her business and life’s mission to snag a baller. She may have secured a couple of hotel stays for some middle of the night fun, but a ring? Not even a Ring Pop. Church is where you’ll find the most hypocrisy but I suppose it makes perfect sense why that is.

“We should grab a bite to eat at The Food Sermon after this.” I’m all for healthy eating but there are just certain dishes that I’m not having in a healthy manner and Caribbean food is that. I’ll be damned if I eat pan seared jerked tofu as a jerk chicken substitute. Celeste and Preston are suddenly super obsessive with their newly started vegan lifestyle and I’m not joining them. It’ll probably be temporary anyway. He’s only doing it because she wants him to.

“Or we can go to Glady’s. Mommy won’t agree with you about that one, because she prefers Glady’s too.”

“Fine, brat.”

“I’ll be that.” I could have chosen somewhere that wouldn’t be in consideration of her new diet if I really wanted to be a brat, but I didn’t. Glady’s has vegetable dishes that should work out for the both of them.

“Shhh.”

I knew it was coming. If her hands weren’t covered with gloves, she might have pinched my arm. I’m always sat in the middle just so she can keep an eye on me because I’m known to find ways to distract myself in church if my mind isn’t completely focused on the sermon or choir. The Lord knows me well. I doubt he have as much of an issue with it as my mother does.

While buttoning the front of my Alexander Wang loose fitting blazer, I couldn’t help but to regret opting out of putting on the wool trench coat that I had laying across the backseat of the car. The nearly end of October air is a lot chillier than I thought it would be. Despite not being someone who enjoys extremely warm or cold weather, I always look forward to the fall because it’s when fashion is at its peak. There’s nothing like a sickening jacket with nice pop of autumn coloring in it, all entirely black look that is sleek, or heavy denim. Oh, and a thigh high heeled boot? Don’t even get me started. Tonight’s dress is a long-sleeved calf length Lowe piece with deep tan, red-orange, and white stripes cascading down it’s form. What really sold me on it is the black lace accents. It’s church friendly and yet if I were going on a lunch outing with Taylor, I’d be just as fine in it.

“Sarai.” Quinton’s hand immediately grazed my shoulder as our eyes met and though I smiled, it was in no way as big as the one gracing his caramel face. Quinton and I went to school together and yet never had any interactions until his father died in the same war that mine did, nearly a year apart. I suppose us dealing with the same level of grief is what served as the foundation of the friendship that we formed. We simply didn’t harbor it as life went on. We barely speak nowadays but I’m sure he’ll say that it’s my doing.

“Quinton. How are you?” We shared an appropriate hug and the fume of his strong cologne instantly made me draw back. It’s not pleasant.

“I’m well. How are you? I see you doing big things.”

“I’m the same. And I’m doing big things? Is that so Mr. Councilman?” He was elected a year ago and is over the Fort Greene, Clinton Hill, Crown Heights, Prospect Heights, and Bedford Stuyvesant neighborhoods. I definitely consider him to be a man of the people, because he could have run for a position within areas like Williamsburg, Dumbo, and Fulton Ferry and won. He’s that well celebrated within these streets.

“I’m not on ESPN though.”

“That’s nothing in comparison to the news coverage about you, the mentoring that I’m hearing you’re receiving from President Obama so that you can run for the Senate, and maybe even the Presidency later on down the line? I think you just want me to brag on you a bit.”

“I won’t stand here and pretend like I’m not flattered.” We shared a laugh that attracted the attention of a few others. I could see my mother eyes lighting up from the corners of my eyes. She’s barely paying attention to what Denise is saying to her.

“You know we’re all proud of you.”

“But you’ve yet to be proud of enough of me to allow me to take you out to dinner. You know we have history.”

That history he speaks of is not our friendship. The summer before we went off to college, we pity fucked one another after having had a conversation about our daddies that left the both of us emotionally drained. Though he wasn’t a virgin, he might as well had been because it was far more of an awkward encounter than it was anything else.

I won’t hold anything about that hot summer evening against him though. No seventeen-year-old boy has the stamina of a stallion and the skills of a veteran porn star within the bedroom. Quinton barely knew who he was personally, so how could he have known who he was as a pleaser? The same could be said for myself.

It was me who decided that we should go on as if it never happened. Hell, it still feels like it never happened. While Quinton is a nice-looking man, I’ve yet to have even the slightest interest in him beyond our occasional run ins.

“Here you go. It’s a timing issue more than anything.” See? I’m a hypocrite too. First, premarital sex. Second? I’m lying right here in the house of God. No matter what the circumstances are, a person will make time for who or whatever it is that they want.

“It can’t always be timing right? We should plan it out so that we won’t run into scheduling issues. I know you’re up there in Bristol a lot and your schedule can be just as crazy when you’re not and you know I’m quite busy myself but I’m willing to make the time for you Sarai.”

Whenever he asks me out, I find myself pondering if we share anything in common beyond what we already know or what we’ll speak about while sitting across from one another at some upscale restaurant of his choosing and I always draw a blank. From there, I snicker at the thought of whispered words about Brooklyn’s fiscal year preliminary budget or development with the deeper urban areas being his dirty talk or pillow talk within the bedroom. That aside, I’m not interested in being his First Lady. I don’t want to play that role, because that’s exactly what it is. Politics is full of actors with empty promises. I’m not saying that Quinton cannot be genuine, but even those type of politicians are just as good of liars as the crooked ones.

“You have my number. Call me. We’ll figure it out.”

“I will. Just make sure you pick up.” That was a cheap jab, but I’ll take it. Out of all of the women within this church who are vying for a chance to be Mrs. Quinton Jeremy Marshall, he constantly comes my way. Maybe that’s something? I don’t know. Only time will tell, but right now, it’s not saying much because I don’t feel anything.

“I will.”

“Hopefully I’ll be able to convince you that we’re a good match before some NBA guy does.” And there it is; the assumptions about what goes on in my life pertaining to athletes beyond work obligations.

“I don’t date athletes.”

“I’m not saying that you do, but there’s no denying that they’re interested in dating you. Unfortunately, I don’t catch the show often, but sometimes I do catch a couple of those one on one interviews you conduct on YouTube and they usually feel like one big lust fest. Doesn’t that make you uncomfortable?”

“I don’t notice it. Also, I feel like people overexaggerate things. These days, you can’t sit a male or female of no relation in the same room without people creating sexual scenarios. That just shows you how screwed up people’s mentalities are.” And that includes you Quinton. I’m not sure if it’s jealousy or indifferent written all over his face, but it’s something. And this is yet another reason why we cannot date. He’s the worst version of an alpha male because there are plenty of sexist undertones within the way he thinks and what he says. He’d expect me to diminish enough of myself in order for him to feel like the man when he’s parading me around some fundraiser or while I’m standing in his shadow as if he gives some speech.

“Or maybe you’re downplaying things. I watched Odell Beckham Jr. stare at you like you’re some type of rare species. I know what those type of looks are about. I am a man after all.” Are you?

“Maybe I am a rare species. We’re not all cut from the same cloth, right Quinton?”

“Maybe so.”

“I’ll see you around though. My stomach is growling and my folks are waiting for me.”

“Don’t forget what I said”

“About timing? I won’t. As I said, give me a call. We’ll figure something out.” And with that, I left him to stare at me as I walked towards the back of the church.

I didn’t feel compelled to hug him again because it would have been lingering on his end and easily would have attracted more attention than I would’ve liked. Despite there being a number of women around here who would love to be claimed by him, oddly, there are people who advocate for us. Even Reverend Trufant snuck in a joke about being willing to officiate our nuptials when the time is right. I’d rather not give Quinton or anyone else any false hope tonight or any other.

Rather than taking three cars, I drove everyone from mommy’s house over to the church. While it may have sounded pointless to them, I insisted that we go back and get Preston’s car so that I’ll be able to drive back to Edgewater right after dinner. I’m tired, cold, and I’m not staying out here tonight. She may have convinced me to come to service but spending the night at either one of their houses can quickly turn into a night of aggravation. I’m so used to living on my own that personality clashes happen as soon as my element is interrupted.

“That Quinton sure is fine.” I knew it was coming. It’d been on the tip of her tongue the entire time she sat in the passenger seat of my car, but I purposefully drowned her out with a couple of classics from Richard Smallwood. I knew she’d quickly began to sing along and forget about hounding me about him, but I should have known she’d only briefly put the thought aside. I can’t even enjoy this peppered shrimp and side of plantains now. Within a couple of minutes, the know it all will add in her warped opinion.

“Isn’t he?” How can she agree with her husband sitting right there alongside her?

“Is he still running for the Senate?” Preston directed that question to me as if I should know. I’ve only heard the rumors and it makes sense. I’m sure councilmen is only a stepping stone for a long running career in politics.

“I’m sure he will at some point.”

“And he’s looking for this one here to be his Michelle Obama and yet she’s running from it.”

“I’m not running from anything. I’m simply not interested. Michelle Obama is amazing and I admire the hell out of her, but not to the point of wanting to mirror her life. I doubt she’d want that for me either. This is a woman who has advocated for women to work hard to be exactly who it is that they want to be.” Michelle was never caught up into the dated traditionalisms of a woman needing a husband in order to look proper in society. She was already a lawyer when she met her now husband.

“And yet here she is, pushing away the one man who actually wants her enough to continue pursuing her.” If I were some tacky reality show chick, I would have made a scene in this restaurant but I won’t for the sake of my reputation.

��The one man who wants me?” I had to made sure I heard her correctly.

“That’s not how I meant it and you know it. You barely put yourself into situations to find someone.”

“I’m not looking.”

“And that’s the problem right there.” As soon as my mother interjected, I dropped my fork into the plate and rested against the back of the seat.

“For who? You?”

“She lives in a house about three times the size of mine and yet she’s in it alone.”

“I live in a house three times the size of yours because it’s what I worked for. I didn’t have to find a man to give it to me. I wanted it and went and got it. It’s not my fault that you can’t relate.”

Initially, I didn’t want to take any shots at her because I respect her lifestyle. She has a career, but it’s no secret that Preston is the breadwinner in their marriage and it works for them. They’re settled, happy, and are beginning to work on trying to have a baby. I rarely if ever label myself with the feminist title, but if I did, I wouldn’t be the type to frown down on women who want to be in the boardroom closing deals or at home raising their children and keeping the house put together. For as long as it is a choice, there is no judgement from me. But Celeste? She takes me there.

“Well lucky for me, I have a man who loves me enough to want to give me amazing things and the best part of it is we enjoy it together. I don’t live in a house three times smaller than yours alone. I don’t go to bed alone. I don’t travel alone. I don’t celebrate my birthdays alone. I don’t have to do everything for myself, whether I’m tired or not, because I live my life without anyone else in it. I have a life partner here with me. Where’s yours? Or did you have hopes that dad would always be the man in your life?”

And this is why whenever people ask me if we’re close, I laugh it off and shrug. I don’t know what we are. After the tragedy within our lives, we continued to grow further apart from the once closeness that we used to have. Even with her gravitating towards mom, we didn’t clash as much then as we do now. Our clashes are typically started by her. It’s the manner in which she seems to pick apart who I am that instantly rubs me the wrong way. It’s not even constructive criticism. It’s simply her being a bitch.

“Your dependency on men has always been at the forefront of your life. If it wasn’t Preston, it would have been someone else. And if it wasn’t that someone else, it would have been another person. I don’t ever remember any point in my life when you were single. So, I’m not impressed. Ya’ll can have this shit, honestly.” I dropped my napkin into the barely halfway eaten plate and immediately stood to my feet. I’d already paid for everyone’s meal as a treat, so I didn’t have to wait for some server to come over with the checkbook.

“Sarai, sit down.”

“I’d rather go and I am. Enjoy yourselves.”

“And this is why I call you a brat. Whenever someone says something that you don’t like or calls you out on your shit, you run.”

“Goodnight.”

“Sarai!” Not even my mother’s stern summoning could influence me to turn around as I walked out in the night. My car served as my solace and the sounds of a Musiq Soulchild Essentials playlist from Apple Music was my soundtrack for my drive home. A blessing of no traffic at any point allowed my arrival time to be just a couple of minutes under an hour.

Let me ask you something. You really think I can come back from this injury? It’s not even a matter of getting back on my feet again because I’m sure that’s possible, but will I be the same player I once was? I’ve been thinking about it and the more I do, the more I really don’t know.

I hadn’t even gotten out of the car when his message came through and as I sat in my seat reading it, I immediately scoffed because I know that is nothing more than his own sulking with a couple of droplets of Scott’s ridiculously biased and purposefully controversial take about some players never being who they once were within their respective sports after surgeries that don’t exactly fix what may be permanent damage.

You’re going to be even better than you were before. We all know that everyone gets a thrill out of a good comeback story but this is more than that for you. You have something to prove to yourself more than anyone or anything else. Your determined spirit will carry you through this and next year, we’re all going to celebrate what you worked so hard for more than we’ve ever celebrated you before. You got this and you know you do. It’s what we’re all a fan of when we speak of Odell Beckham Jr; your keen awareness of who you are and what you’re capable of.

And just like that, I was starting the car. I hadn’t even gone inside to get out of the pumps that are now starting to cause my toes to ache.

Have someone open the door for me. I should be there in about twenty.

It took five minutes over the twenty I estimated because I stopped at Dunkin Donuts for a hot chocolate. I wasn’t cold anymore because the heat in the car had already warmed me up, but I had a taste for it. I even grabbed Beckham a cup.

“Why are you the one answering the door?” I rang the doorbell about two minutes ago. No wonder it took so long for anyone to come and get it. As he leaned against the crutches, Khan and Blackjack were standing alongside him in a protective stance as Mowgli lingered around in the background.

“Nobody’s here but me.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re never home alone.”

“You’ll be surprised how much I actually am home alone.” As he crutched himself backwards, the dogs moved alongside him in unison to allow me entry into the home. I think they’re starting to get used to me and I’m not sure if it’s a bad or a good thing. I’ve found myself bonding with Eris, who is technically the lady of the house.

“I got you a hot chocolate from Dunkin.”

“Thank you.”

“Uhm.” I noticed we weren’t going downstairs as I trailed behind him. Instead, he made his way into the living room and flopped down on the couch. He’d been playing video games before I arrived.

“Why are you so dressed up?”

“I’m coming from Saturday service.”

“Church?” His eyes widened and he couldn’t mask the few chuckles that followed. What’s so hard to believe about that?

“Why is that so shocking to you?”

“It’s not shocking, but I just can’t picture you going to church on a Saturday night. Maybe Sunday service, but Saturday night? No one under forty is going to a Saturday night service.” Alright. He got me there.

“I went with my mother, sister, and brother-in-law.”

“What’s your sister’s name?”

“Celeste.” I tossed my jacket on the arm of the couch right after placing the Styrofoam cup filled with hot chocolate on the glass coffee table.

“Lace? You sure you just went to church? Lace is more date night.” The lace is in places that most wouldn’t consider sexy. There is no cleavage on display; not even a bit of thigh. I would have been scolded endlessly had I done that.

“Why does lace have to be for a date night? Lace is universal. I used to wear white lace gloves to church when I was about five.”

“You’re certainly not five now.” Our eyes met and I took yet another sip of the warm sweetened drink. Suddenly, I wish it was a frozen hot chocolate.

“Someone did try to take me on a date though.” I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but we’ve developed enough of a connection to the point where we share a lot of random and sometimes private information with one another.

“Who?” He hadn’t taken the game off of pause yet; didn’t reach for the hot chocolate either.

“Remember the friend who I mentioned to you? The one whose father died in the same war that mine did? Him. His name is Quinton.”

“I figured he was more than a friend when you mentioned him.”

“Why?” We were kids at the time. I didn’t emphasize much more than that.

“I don’t know. I just felt it.”

“Well, believe me when I tell you that we’re just friends. I’m not interested. There was a point in time when we crossed a boundary but nothing more came out of it.”

“Okay.” I was surprised that he didn’t question me about the boundary but then again, he’s just as intuitive as I am most times. He knows what boundary that was.

“He’s a councilman in Brooklyn now. He’s going to run for a seat in the Senate soon enough. Politics are his thing. He’s been trying to take me out for a while. For whatever reason, he thinks we’re a good fit for one another.”

“And you don’t?” As he stretched out his lengthy fingers, I could hear the sounds of a few of them cracking.

“No. I don’t think we relate much. We gel well as distant friends more than anything else. He’s looking for a wife. I don’t want to be that.”

“His wife or anyone’s wife?”

“I don’t know. Marriage isn’t something that I’ve made a part of my plans when I mapped them out. It’s not something that I’ve ruled out, but I’m not necessarily yearning for it either. It’s more of an it is what it is situation for me. You?”

“Initially, it was a big ass no. I wasn’t pressed for it. I watched my pop marry someone and I knew he didn’t want to get married. Ultimately, it didn’t work out for him. Now, I’m not against it. Whenever that day comes, it’ll come. I just want to do it one time when it does come. When I get down on one knee, I have to absolutely know that this is it and this person is going to be the one I’m growing towards wrinkles and diapers with. That shit has to work out.”

I’m sure everyone who stands at an alter and vows their life to someone feels exactly the same way he does. It’s supposed to be final; that moment to seal the deal between your soul and someone else’s. It’s tricky though. That honeymoon bliss eventually turns into tests of tolerance and plenty of trials and tribulations. In being around my parents, I was exposed to many of their friends’ marriages. Sure, they were in love, but I’m not sure if a few of them were genuinely happy.

“That’s fair.”

“So, this Quinton guy, he’s never getting a chance to prove himself? Not even one date?”

“Probably not.”

“What about me?” I didn’t expect it to go that route, but I know it’s been lingering on his mind since we began to bond with one another.

“Everything about us will never make sense and we both know this. Even what we’re doing right now wouldn’t go without question. I’m not supposed to be here or anywhere near you.” He sighed, not in defeat, but in disappointment at the words that I’d chosen as a response.

“How is that?”

“Because it’s a conflict of interest. Did you think that I was speaking in jest when I said that the night, we all hung out after your game? Having a personal relationship with you will easily have me viewed as someone who has a bias towards you and all that you do. I already catch hell for what I said about you, so can you imagine what would happen if TMZ happened to catch up the two us leaving some restaurant or nightclub together? Do you understand what would happen if you were to post or say anything about me on social media beyond whatever it is that I say about you in a professional setting? I would not only be ripped to shreds, but I’d be fired. Why do you think I kept stressing you and the guys about not post anything whenever I was visiting you at the hospital? Why do you think I was sneaking in, so bundled up?” The pictures and videos that are on his phone and everyone else’s are for personal memories. I don’t mind that. I figured they’d be something to put a smile on his face whenever he needs one, just as they do for me.

“Does it say in your contact that you will be fired for any of this?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t against the ethical code and conduct of the company? I would be forced to resign. Not only that, but do you realize how hard it is to be taken seriously as a female sports journalist? If you let the public tell it, I’m screwing every single athlete that I’m standing within five feet of. I’m not supposed to know about sports. You know how many ‘get in the kitchen’ comments I get? Hell, the NFL fans are the harshest. They tell me that I don’t know shit and I belong on my back for a living.”

“Because they’re fucking ignorant.”

“And yet it’s my reality. I’m not trying to nag you about this because I know what I signed up for and I can handle it, but how do I handle standing in front of the president of ESPN and him telling me to write my resignation letter before they’re forced to publicly embarrass me by firing me?”

“Within all that you said, you know you’re also saying that we can’t be friends and yet here you are, sitting here with me. I didn’t tell you to come here tonight. You came on your own.”

“Because I figured you were a bit upset. It’s the vibe I’d gotten in the text messages.”

“That’s the excuse you’re going with? You could have kept texting me. You came because you care and because you wanted to.”

“I do care about you. I just have to wonder how much do you care about me if you’re okay with me jeopardizing everything that I have and everything that I am for you and only you.” Instantly, he turned his head in my direction and narrowed his eyes.

“Me and only me? So, I’m in this alone?”

“In what?” I had to stand up. Not only had the tension in the room thickened, but my legs refused to remain settled. I kept bouncing them in an anxiousness that I couldn’t comprehend.

“Sarai. Seriously? And I’m not asking you to jeopardize your career.”

“Then what are you asking me to do?”

“I don’t…” His ran his hands threw his blonde curls and tightly closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was only dropping by to check on you. I’m going to go.”

“Sarai.”

He frowned as I grabbed my jacket from the arm the chair and threw it over my shoulders. The quicker I leave, the better off we’ll both be in terms of riding ourselves of the steam. I’m tired anyway.

“It’s fine. I’ll give you a call to see how you’re doing soon.”

“You don’t have to go. That’s not what any of that was supposed to cause.”

“But I do. I need to go.”

Once my clutch bag was secured under my arm, I grabbed my keys off of the table.

“Sarai.”

“Be safe in here. Stay off of your foot.”

I was out of his door before we could exchange another set of words with one another and quite frankly, I’m not sure when I’ll ever walk through it again. I don’t have much, despite whatever people may see or believe. There are plenty of question marks next to a lot of the emotional aspects of life’s necessities but I do have my sanity and everything that I worked damn hard for. If that’s suddenly snatched away from me, then what’s left? A mother who doesn’t know much about me beyond what she assumes or wishes I were and an older sister who doesn’t take me seriously? Much like Beckham, I’m chasing a legacy and I have a lot more to do to make it eternally standing.

One date. We’ll do it somewhere around our old stomping grounds; it’ll feel nostalgic. Next week. I’ll get back to you with the day. Here’s your time.

If I have to choose right now, that’s the choice that makes the most sense.

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #odell beckham jr fanfic #odell beckham fanfic

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lizacstuff · 5 years

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This is a @cssecretsanta2k18 gift for @edgeofrealms It was such a joy getting to be your CS Secret Santa and I’m so sorry this is so late. Shall we call it a New Year’s gift? This little fic was inspired by our conversations. You said you liked fluff and you said:

“I wish we couldve seen more of their life post- the final battle. like emmas pregnancy and how they adjusted to being married.”

So that’s what this is, I hope you enjoy!

Title: Making More than Pancakes

Summary: Emma’s pregnant and a wee bit cranky, Killian’s bent on reading pregnancy books and feeding her nutritious food and the Charmings have decided it’s time to decorate the nursery. Set post 7x02, a heartwarming look at a day in the life of Captain Swan while they’re expecting.

Fanfiction.net AO3

xxx

Emma looked down at her breakfast and sighed. She loved her husband, she really did, but she did not love pasteurized Greek yogurt with vegan, gluten-free, protein-rich granola for breakfast. At least there were some berries on top. Where did one even get organic, vegan, gluten-free, protein-rich granola in Storybrooke?

She looked over to where he was bustling around the kitchen wearing a ‘Pirates have more fun’ apron that a then 16-year-old Henry had thought a hilarious Christmas gift. “Did you cross the town line to get this?” she pointed to the bowl on the table in front of her.

His eyes lit up, clearly delighted with himself. “Aye.”

“Why?”

“The market in town has insufficient selection. I read-”

“Oh boy,” Emma interrupted and put down her spoon. “I’m going to take the internet away from you.”

His eyes widened in horror at the thought. “The computer contains much useful information on your current state, Swan. You and the baby need calcium and protein and nutrients and-”

“They have granola at the market here in town,” Emma pointed out practically, before adding, “And you don’t have to drive an hour to get it.”

Killian shook his head. “The brand at the local market is full of sugar and very few nutrients comparatively.”

“Why does it need to be vegan if you’re putting it over yogurt anyway?” Emma asked practically.

“It doesn’t, but this brand was rated the most nutritious in a variety of categories.”

She looked at him with the sweetest smile she could muster. “You could make me a pancake instead.”

His smile in return was affectionate, but he shook his head.

“Why?” Emma whined.

“Because they are nutrient free and last time you put chocolate chips and whip cream on them. Empty calories. Pancakes are for special occasions. A treat.”

“It’s Saturday, Saturday should be a special occasion.” Emma replied with a note of irritation in her voice. Then she motioned to her husband, “If you won’t make me pancakes, then why are you wearing that apron? All you did was put yogurt in a bowl.”

Emma had been showing flashes of annoyance as the pregnancy progressed, however he’d read several pregnancy books and they informed him this was normal, having something to do with hormones. With a smile, Killian moved towards her until he could lean around and drop a kiss on her forehead. “I’m wearing it because it reminds me of our lad.”

“Oh.” Emma’s frustration crumbled and she felt her heart squeeze at the mention of her son. Their son. She missed him fiercely. “I miss him, too.”

“I’m sure we’ll see him soon,” Killian said with more conviction than he felt.

“You know what would help with the missing?” Emma asked with a bit of a sniffle.

“What, love?” Killian asked with twin notes of curiosity and eagerness.

“Hot chocolate.” Emma supplied hopefully.

Killian leaned back against the stove and cocked an eyebrow at her, but before he could respond, the front door banged open.

With a start, they instantly found the source of the intrusion. Storybrooke might have been quiet these last few years, but they were still both in a state of constant readiness.

Emma sighed with relief and a bit of exasperation. “Mom, we’ve talked about knocking.”

“Pfft, you’re almost nine months pregnant, what would there be to walk in on?” Snow chuckled, as she made her way into the living room, carrying a large laundry basket filled to the brim.

Emma gave her a pointed look that was supposed to convey that her mother was wrong, but internally she winced. It had been awhile since there’d been anything to interrupt.

“I’m sorry it’s so early, but we dropped Neal at soccer practice and since he has a play date afterwards with one of his teammates, we actually have some free time this morning.”

“What’s all this?” Killian asked as he wandered towards the couch and peered into the basket now sitting on the coffee table.

“Swatches, paint samples,” Snow explained eagerly, before adding, “It’s time to make some decisions on the nursery.”

“Killian and I were thinking we’d wait until the baby comes, since we don’t know if we’re having a boy or a girl.”

“Nonsense,” Snow waved that idea away with her hand. “You don’t want to bring a baby home to an unfinished nursey, trust me you will not have the energy to decorate after the baby is born. There are plenty of wonderful options that are gender neutral. Besides, who ever heard of a color having a gender anyway? Personally, I like this one,” she pulled out a card with bright, sunshine yellow paint on it and brought it over for Emma to inspect.

Emma turned the card over in her hand. “It’s a bit much.”

“Yellow is a happy color,” Snow replied brightly.

“I did read that on the computer,” Killian agreed. “There was a study of children and the color of their living quarters, children in yellow rooms were happiest.”

“Yeah, but our infant will need sunglasses in order to sleep and I don’t know where we’d find ones that tiny,” Emma retorted sardonically.

“Well how about this?” Snow pulled another paint chip from her bag, this time a deep turquois.

“We agreed that we were going to offer to help, not force our taste on them.” A voice from the door sounded.

“Dad,” Emma smiled at the welcome sight of her father and started the arduous process of pushing herself up from the table.

Her father gestured for her to stay put, instead he walked over and dropped a kiss on her head and then looked to Killian, “Nice apron.”

“An old gift from Henry.” Killian replied without a trace of self-consciousness.

David paused for a beat and then nodded, a sign he understood the impetus behind Killian wearing the apron. Then he clapped his hands together. “I hear you have a crib that needs to be built, lead me to it.”

Killian glanced to Emma with a raised eyebrow. “You called your father? I thought you wanted to help me assemble it?”

“I did, but that was before I got so uncomfortable that I can’t even sit on the floor. Dad and I assembled Neal’s, so he knows what to do.”

Killian didn’t show either emotion, but he was both relieved and disappointed. In the last trimester of her pregnancy, Emma had exhibited less patience than usual. With David, he would make quicker work of the crib than he would with Emma, but it had been something he was looking forward to doing with his wife. There was also the fact he was exhausted and had been planning to go back to bed after breakfast. It had been a late night, or rather early morning, of sheriff duty and he’d gotten less than two hours of sleep… but perhaps working without sleep would be good practice for when the baby came. Resigned to his fate, he looked to his father-in-law. “The boxes are in the nursery, as are an assortment of gadgets and tools, do we require anything else to complete the task?”

“A cold beverage?” David suggested with a grin.

“Beer?” Killian asked with surprise. Over the years, the two had spent a lot of leisure time together and Killian knew that when David referred to a cold beverage he meant beer.

“Sounds great.”

“David!” Snow admonished with a scandalized expression. “It’s not even 9am.”

David shrugged, but relented and pointed to the coffee pot. “Then I suppose a bit more caffeine wouldn’t hurt.”

Killian poured them both cups, and then offered to pour one for Snow who declined saying she’d help herself. The expectant father started to follow David, but then turned back to his mother-in-law and said, “See that she eats her breakfast,” before disappearing up the stairs.

“Covering it in chocolate syrup is the only way you’re getting me to eat this.” Emma retorted softly enough that she knew Killian wouldn’t hear.

“Is it so awful?” Snow asked as she surveyed her daughter’s half-eaten bowl of yogurt and granola.

“No, it’s not bad, it’s just not pancakes… or waffles… or French toast… or a bear claw.”

“Ah… has he at least stopped offering fish for breakfast?”

Emma gave a huff of a laugh, “We broke him of that habit years ago, but, yes, now he only eats fish for non-breakfast meals. However, these days he’s being very careful about what fish he serves, you see apparently some fish is recommended as part of a diet for pregnant women, but you have to be careful about mercury. He’s an expert. All I know is once a week we have salmon for dinner… usually served with broccoli and spinach.”

“Well it’s not a bad thing that one of you is worried about nutrition.” Snow said as she walked to the coffee table to retrieve her laundry basket full of items. Once she’d heaved it on the kitchen table, she poured herself a cup of coffee.

Emma felt herself prickle at her mother’s comment, but instead of saying anything about it sighed, “I miss coffee.”

“I’m sure Killian would make you some decaffeinated,” Snow replied perkily.

Emma refrained from rolling her eyes, but she felt like it. “Not the same.”

“Well you’ll be able to have coffee soon enough.”

“Sure, after another six months to a year of breastfeeding.”

Snow looked at her daughter with concern. “Everything okay?”

At that, Emma looked up, “Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t it be?” Wanting to change the subject, she pushed herself up from her chair so she could take her breakfast dishes to the sink and on her way back motioned to her mother’s basket. “Show me what you brought.”

Excitedly, Snow removed paint chips and fabric swatches and starting laying them out on the table.

Emma looked down at the abundance of color in front of her. The paint chips made a vivid rainbow against the wood of the table. Then her eyes traveled to the fabric swatches. There was a swatch with ducks, one with whales, and one with frogs. Other samples had themes ranging from clowns to sail boats to the moon and the stars, some had the same patterns, but in different colors. Overwhelmed Emma plopped back down in her seat.

Snow sat down next to her and started explaining the colors, the differences in tone and hue, which were complimentary, which would work with the fabric. When she finally stopped talking to take a breath, she glanced expectantly to Emma who in turn was looking a little dazed.

“Emma,” Snow nudged her gently, “What do you think?”

“What do I think? I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. Other than… how am I going to be a good mother? I don’t eat right and I can’t even pick a color for the nursery!” Emma replied, startling even herself. Instantly she felt a hot sting behind her eyes. She sat for a moment willing herself not to cry, she did not succeed.

“Oh honey,” Snow said as she searched for a tissue. Finding a napkin, she handed it to Emma before reaching over and rubbing a comforting circle on Emma’s back. “Where is this coming from? You’re already a wonderful mother.”

Emma just looked at her and blew her nose.

Snow knew what she was thinking, and a bit how she felt. Henry had been an adolescent when Emma came into his life, mothering an infant was different. “You’ll be great with an infant; you were great with your brother when he was a baby.”

“Babysitting is not the same… also there was a time when you wouldn’t even let me hold my brother.”

Snow grimaced guiltily at the memory. “Oh Emma, you’re not letting that bother you, are you? Those were very special circumstances for a few days while you were having trouble controlling your powers. You’re perfectly in control of them now; it’s no longer a concern at all.”

Emma shrugged as she let her gaze drift down to her stomach. “Maybe, but this little one is going to depend on me for everything. There’s so much more responsibility with a baby.”

Snow looked at her incredulously before saying, “The Savior, who had the weight of the world, the weight of everyone’s happy endings on her shoulders, and won, isn’t responsible enough to care for a baby? Hogwash.”

Emma snorted at her mother’s colorful language. She hadn’t thought about it like that, she had shouldered a lot of responsibility in the not so distant past. Even if it wasn’t the same. She’d never asked to be the Savior; she’d just done what was necessary when thrust into the role. However, she had asked to be a parent; she’d tried to get pregnant for a very long time, and now that the time was almost here, she was afraid she wouldn’t be up to the task.

“I don’t know. There’s so much to think about… you said it yourself.” Emma sounded a bit defensive as she mimicked her mother’s words from a few minutes earlier. “‘It’s not a bad thing that one of you is worried about nutrition.’ See, I can’t even be trusted with what I eat.”

Snow shook her head, but replied gently, “Are you kidding? Emma, you are eating healthier than 90% of pregnant women I’ve ever seen.”

“But that’s just because Killian has been doing the shopping and the meal prep, if it was left to me; I’d be eating onion rings and pancakes.”

“Then have a pancake. You deserve it. Killian might be going a little bit overboard with the nutritious eating, but it is good that one of you is worrying about it. You balance each other out, and you will continue to balance each other out as parents.”

Emma sat back and thought about that. Maybe that was true, maybe they did balance each other, he shored up her shortcomings and vice versa.

While Emma was pondering that, Snow’s mind went in a very different direction. After a minute, she swallowed roughly and said a truth that none of them confronted very often. “Emma, one thing we know for sure, your baby is going to have a much better mother than you had.”

Emma looked up quickly and met her mother’s eyes. “Mom, don’t say that.”

“No, it’s true; we both know it’s true. I think you know how much I wish things had been different, but I wasn’t there, but you will be. That is the most important thing. Being there.”

Emma bit her lip, and then in a rough voice, said, “I do worry about that, about something going wrong again. I know I won’t have to make a decision like the one I made with Henry, but I do worry about something happening outside our control…”

Snow brought her hand to her daughter’s belly. “You will be there for every moment with this precious gift, and I promise you, your father and I, and Killian, of course, will do everything in our power to make sure nothing separates the two of you. If Henry or Regina happen to stir up more trouble while they are off adventuring, and goodness knows what Rumple is up to, then we’ll deal with it as a family, but there will be no separating of babies from their mothers.” Snow’s eyes were full of unshed tears, but she smiled brightly, “I decree it as Queen. And President of the Storybrooke Town Council.”

“Then it is done,” Emma replied with a laugh and reached over and gave her mother a hug. It was silly, there was no kingdom in Storybrooke, but her mother’s words gave her comfort. Unlike when she was pregnant with Henry, she was surrounded by people who loved her, supported her, and would help her keep this child safe.

“You know what?” Emma asked with a sniff as she turned back to the table. “Maybe I can pick a color. The yellow is growing on me, if kids with yellow walls are happier then why not… but not that bright yellow you showed me before, is there something a bit softer?”

“How about this one?” Snow fingered through the pile until she found the one she was looking for. She handed the card of pale, buttery yellow to Emma.

Emma held out the chip in front of her and tried picturing the room they’d designated as the nursery painted in the warm color. Yes, this could work, cheery, but not overwhelming.

“It’s called duckling yellow.”

Emma smiled, that sealed it. “Perfect.”

Xxx

“You’ve resorted to force-feeding your wife, huh?”

Killian looked up at David from where he sat on the floor looking at the directions that came with the crib. “Force-feeding? I’m doing no such thing. I’m providing plenty of nutritious sustenance for Emma and our unborn child.”

“Right, well, I found when Snow was pregnant that she had cravings and it was best to let her have whatever she wanted.”

“Of course, I want Emma to have her heart’s desire, but if left to her own culinary devices all these years, she and Henry would have subsisted on a diet of pop tarts and items that are breaded and fried.” Killian frowned disdainfully. “It’s even more important now that Emma is with child that she is supplied with an abundance of healthy food.”

“You might slip in a hot dog now and then, is all I’m saying, to keep her happy and sane.”

Killian looked at him in horror. “I will have you know that processed meats are not recommended for pregnant women.”

David looked at him, actually impressed. “You have studied up.”

“The internet has been most enlightening and I’ve read several books.”

David nodded as he organized the assortment of screws that came with the crib, and then cleared his throat before stuttering, “Um… I… have something… but… uh… I don’t want to offend you…”

That stopped Killian and he looked up from the crib directions he’d been reading. “That’s an ominous beginning.”

David shrugged before launching into an explanation. “Recently, I was throwing the ball with Wilby and it sparked an idea. I ordered some things and played around with them in the barn. Long story short, I made you something that might come in handy, but I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you around my grandchild.”

“Ever more ominous,” Killian knit his brows together, but said nothing more. He had his own trepidations about what kind of father he would be, he wasn’t sure he was ready to listen to Emma’s father list his inadequacies, especially if it had to do with him not being fit to be around his own child.

David reached in his pocket and pulled out a small rounded object that appeared to be made of some sort of rubber. He handed it to Killian.

Killian turned it over in his good hand, “What is it?”

“It was a rubber ball, I cut open a bunch of them trying to find one with the right consistency, and then I shaped it and cut it down to size. It’s to blunt the sharp end of your hook while you’re holding the baby. Honestly, I thought it might give you confidence and comfort, especially when you have a newborn. I know I was nervous about holding my kids as infants and I don’t have a sharp appendage.”

Killian studied it and saw that there was a slit on the flat end of the object. He squinted in concentration as he brought it to his hook and slid it on. He turned it one way and then the next surveying the bulbous pink object and then tried it out several times by knocking it on the hard wood floor. His hook bounced off the surface, damaging neither the floor nor the ball.

David pointed to his handwork, “See I put tiny reinforcements in the slit so that the hook wouldn’t slice through the softer material.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Killian said feeling quite gratified. “This is… this is great. I… I, it would be a lie to say that I haven’t been apprehensive about it, I thought I’d switch to the false hand I wear when I need disguise, but I’m more comfortable in the hook, so… I… thank you.”

Pleased that his gift had been taken in the spirit it had been intended, David nodded and said, “You’re welcome. One less thing for you to worry about and now that I’ve figured it out; I can easily make another if you need it. Let me know.”

“I appreciate that.” Killian said before gulping. A moment later he added, “You’re right, these days… a lot of things cause me worry.”

David looked at him quizzically; it wasn’t very often that his son-in-law opened up to him. “Well that’s very natural at this stage of the game. Every expectant father who is only weeks away is worried.”

Killian nodded, but then added, “Not every expectant father has my history. It’s not… well, you know better than anyone, I don’t have a great history with fathers.”

David took a deep breath and then shook his head. “Killian, that’s all behind you and you’re not going to make the mistakes our fathers made and you’re not going to go back to being the person you were. You have experienced more than most people would over several life times and it has brought you to a place where you are not only a changed man, but a wise man.” David them slapped his son-in-law on the back. “Plus I know you are going to be a great father, look you’re sitting there in a silly apron just because Henry gave it to you. You’re already a great father, and you’re a great husband. And if you’ve convinced me that you’re good enough for my baby girl, you know it’s true.”

Killian swallowed roughly, met the other man’s gaze, and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Then a grin stole over his face as he held up his hook. “This is a fetching pink color; you must think we’re having a girl.”

“Actually, the ball that had the right density just happened to be that color. It’s just a plus that you get to walk around with a pink accessory.”

“As with my apron, I will wear it with pride.” Killian said and he meant it.

Xxx

The crib assembly took longer than anticipated, but eventually was complete. Snow left hours earlier only to return with Neal, so it wasn’t until early afternoon that Killian and Emma finally found themselves alone.

By mutual agreement, they headed to the bedroom… to sleep.

xxx

With a slightly suspicious smile and a mischievous gleam in his eye, Killian moved silently across the kitchen, until he sidled up behind his wife, simultaneously sliding his hook arm around her midsection and pressing a kiss just below her ear.

“Hi.” Emma relaxed back into him, still keeping an eye on the stove.

“Hi, my naughty wife,” Killian murmured into her ear, pressing his nose to her temple and taking in her scent.

“Naughty? I don’t remember doing anything naughty recently; did I miss something during our nap?” Emma sighed and closed her eyes, briefly enjoying his embrace, before getting back to business and flipping a pancake with practiced finesse.

“Love, you know why you’re naughty, you shouldn’t be exerting yourself in this manner. It’s my job to feed you while you’re eating for two. If you were hungry, why didn’t you wake me so I could prepare dinner?” With his free hand he rubbed the shoulder over which he was not leaning.

Emma gave a quick shake of her head. “Because you were resting. You barely slept last night, between me tossing and turning and then you having to go out on that 2am drunk and disorderly – we really need to do something about the dwarfs,” she flipped another pancake with her right hand as her left came to caress the hook that was resting gently on her belly. “You should have slept in this morning, but instead you got up to make me breakfast, which was unnecessary by the way, and then my parents showed up. I wanted to let you sleep, and besides I’m not an invalid, I can make pancakes, and you won’t make me pancakes,” Emma said the last part with a note of defiance. She set the skillet on an unused burner and turned off the stove. “However, if you want to get naughty that can be arranged,” her voice was seductive as she turned in one fluid motion and searched for Killian’s mouth with hers, intending to deliver a searing kiss.

Or at least that had been the plan. However, as soon as she turned, her swollen stomach hit Killian’s midsection knocking him back so forcefully that his feet tangled and he fell back, his behind hitting the tile of the kitchen floor.

Killian chuckled good-naturedly as he reached to steady himself on the floor, but Emma burst into tears.

His laugh died instantly on his lips, and his heart dropped at the sound. He scrambled to his feet and in an instant was wrapping his arms around her from the side, pulling her to him. “Love, please don’t cry, what’s wrong?” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“I’m huge,” she sniffled after a minute, “And not sexy, and probably couldn’t get naughty even if you wanted me.”

He squeezed her gently, “Love, you are 36 weeks pregnant with our child which is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and not a moment has gone by since the day we met that I haven’t wanted you.”

“You’re just saying that,” she sniffed.

Killian let go of her only long enough to reach over to the kitchen counter and grab a tissue. Tenderly he dabbed her wet cheeks. “I promise you I’m not and I’ll happily prove it to you if you doubt my veracity, but for right now why don’t we get you off of your feet and I’ll finish… dinner.” With his chin, he nudged her cheek towards the kitchen table.

Instead of moving to disentangle with him, she relaxed more into his embrace. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me… that’s the second time I teared up today.”

“The second?” Killian asked with concern, “When was the first?”

“With my mom, it was silly… just feeling a little overwhelmed with fabric and paint choices.”

Killian leaned back slightly so he could see her face. “Darling, it’s totally natural. According to the pregnancy book your hormone levels are changing and many women find that they cry more easily during pregnancy.”

“I haven’t finished the pregnancy book.” Emma admitted.

He gave her a gentle squeeze. “That’s all right because, I have.”

That made Emma smile. Her mom was right; they did balance each other out.

“I suppose you’re going to throw those out,” she looked longingly at the pancakes on the stove, “and instead feed me a skinless, organic, free-range chicken breast over a bed of quinoa with steamed carrots and green beans.”

“Of course not, Swan. If you want pancakes, pancakes you shall have.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He kissed her temple. “Emma, I want to take care of you. I want you to have everything you and the baby need. Perhaps I went overboard with the healthy eating. I want you and our baby to be happy and if pancakes make you happy, so be it.”

Instead of moving to sit down, Emma turned her face and pressed her forehead to his. “Thank you, I love…”

With an expectant grin, he leaned back and waited for the end of her declaration.

“…pancakes,” she finished with faux earnestness.

Killian chuckled, guided her to her chair at the kitchen table, and then bustled around getting plates utensils, butter, and syrup. He even sprinkled chocolate chips over the inviting mound of pancakes on her plate. Emma looked ecstatic.

As she dug in to the feast, Killian sat across from her and said, “I had a talk with your father this morning. He encouraged me to relax a bit on the healthy eating.”

Emma swallowed a mouthful of the delicious food and admitted. “And my mom encouraged me to appreciate how you balance out my tendencies towards junk food.” Emma held out her glass full of orange juice to Killian as if to offer a toast. “Here’s to balance.”

“To balance,” Killian clinked his glass against hers. “Speaking of your parents’ wisdom…” He leaned back in order to rummaged around in his pocket, before pulling out his new pink, hook protector. “Your father gifted me with this.”

“What is it?” Emma asked curiously.

Killian placed it on his hook and then brought it to tap against the table, “It’s to protect the cygnet.”

Emma shook her head, “Our baby doesn’t need protecting from you.”

Killian thought about that for a second, he certainly hoped that truer words had never been spoken. “No, never, but your father’s instinct was right, I’ll feel more confident holding our infant, changing diapers, feeding, if I’m wearing it.”

“Okay, whatever makes you more comfortable is good, because you are going to change a lot of diapers. I mean… a lot… mountains upon mountains of very, dirty diapers.”

“As you command, Captain,” Killian replied unfazed.

Emma smiled brightly at him and then remembered what else she talked to her mother about that morning. “Oh, hey, after I stopped crying, I actually did find a color for the nursery.”

“Aye?” he cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

She nodded, “If you agree, of course.” Then she pushed back her chair, grabbed the paint sample from the counter and came around the table. Killian was a little surprised when he realized her intent to sit on his lap, but he dutifully pushed back his chair from the table to give her room. She plopped down, put one arm around his neck, and showed him the swatch by setting it on her pregnant belly. “It’s called Duckling Yellow, it’s not nearly as intense as that first yellow mom showed us, but it’s cheery like you said, and warm, and it would go with a lot of other colors and-”

“It’s perfect.” Killian interrupted.

“Are you sure, I don’t want to make the decision without you.”

“You’re not, I love it.”

She pressed a kiss to the apple of his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re the father of my child.”

He crooked his neck back in order to get a better look at her. “Well, Swan, we’ve been married for five years so I hope there’s no question about that…”

She laughed but shook her head. “No, I mean it. I know I’ve been a bit… cranky lately.”

“My, love, you are growing our human inside of you, you may be as cranky as you wish.”

Emma smiled and kissed him again. “That’s why I’m so grateful.”

“You’re grateful you’re cranky?”

“No,” she nodded as one hand caressed the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m grateful I have a partner who doesn’t care that I’m cranky and who wants to be there with me every step of the way, and who reads pregnancy books and goes to a lot of effort to feed me healthy foods. The last time I did this, I was terrified, alone and in a cell. Now I have the most wonderful man in the world getting up in the morning after two hours of sleep just so he can make me a healthy breakfast. It’s… it’s wonderful and I appreciate it. I want you to know that.”

He leaned in and stole a kiss. “Well, Swan, I’m glad that you’re the mother of my child. We’re in this together.”

Emma beamed at him, brimming with happiness. They were in it together.

“But…” Killian’s face contorted into an exaggerated wince.

“But what?” Emma asked with concern.

“Darling, you have to get up my left leg is going to sleep.”

Emma pouted as she stood. “See, I’m huge, I knew it.”

“Nah, I just needed you to stand so I could do this.” Killian abruptly stood and then in one fluid movement, he easily picked her up– one arm behind her back the other under her knees– and headed towards the stairs, intent on a bit of naughty time. Emma shrieked and giggled the entire way to their bedroom.

The End.

#captain swan #cs ff #csss 2018 #cs secret santa #cssecretsanta2k18 #emma swan #killian jones #cs fanfiction #making more than pancakes #my fic

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sierrabinondo · 5 years

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woodland creatures tour - day 8 (falls church)

finally got around to starting the final journal. life picks back up so quickly for me when i return from going anywhere, really, so it’s hard to stick to little projects like this. but i probably could have benefited from writing this sooner after the actual last day of tour haha. it’s funny how we only leave for a week or so but it feels like our lives shift so drastically during that time. it really does take time to snap back into reality and accept normalcy.

after a good night of bullshitting until super late (we tried to put on hot ones around 2:00 am but all passed out shortly after) we grabbed coffee and breakfast at coffeeology (i THINK that’s the name) in greensboro. we stopped at a shop literally across the street from the venue we played last year, new york pizza. seeing that place again reminded us of playing to literally our tourmates destination dimension and maybe like 3 other people in the room, versus the couple dozen we played to last night. the main band that played the gig that night literally sat outside the entire show with their friends and only came inside for when they had to play. it was disheartening, to say the least. this time, we didn’t play to a crowd that was there for us, but we played to so many more people who actually stayed inside to watch us.

i wish i could remember this drive, i didn’t have any work to do so i think this was the day i bought untitled goose game and i was playing it a little bit haha. we listened to some music and just enjoyed the trek to our last gig on this run. of course, we started to hit traffic as we approached falls church, which is in the DC area for anyone not familiar. however, we were still making okay time. we could make a detour to drop our bags at the hotel in vienna, get food, and then run our dual band cover of uneasy hearts with pulses. forgot to mention this in the jacksonville journal lmao, i approached kevin with this idea for the last show of tour super casually and we did end up deciding as a whole to go through with it!

the hotel in vienna was such a strange spot, but it was kind of cool? we stayed at the vienna wolf trap hotel hahaha. all of the decor was SO DATED but it was still pretty okay. the guy at the desk was nice, we somehow got on the topic that we were a band on tour rand he gave us late check-in for free! ended up not needing it. but it’s the thought that counts haha. we arrive to the venue and jaime’s girlfriend rebecca is there to greet us :’) poor girl drove their RV all the way down to virginia alone, and that thing drives slowly. but then that meant jaime could ride back up to jersey with her which was good.

it is insane how at home we feel at falls church. i guess everyone south of maryland is just way fucking cooler than the northeast lmao, but it’s like pulling up to play somewhere at home in jersey and running into old friends. i can’t get over that we have that in a state hundreds of miles from home. it was good to see familiar faces and be back at the vfw. our friends’ band to michigan, with love was also on the gig, and our newer friends in science penguin joined us on the show as well! it was an all-around homie fest. i rolled up to the venue with the remainder of the trulys i purchased the night before, and shoved the box in the fridge haha. i was ready to just chillll.

because we have played here a handful of times, it is also now tradition to walk across the parking lot and go get korean fried chicken at the restaurant next door. it fucking sucks, we always arrive just in time to eat before doors and i normally can’t eat jack shit because of fried/spicy food being horrible for my voice. i ordered bibimbap and then 12 wings to go, for after the show lmao. or a snack after we play!! but i ended up forgetting to FUCKING eat them AND they just sat out overnight in the van so they were toast. goddamnit. i think the restaurant is literally just called bbq fried chicken, the way they fry their chicken is just perfect. the sauces are all delicious and everything besides that on the menu is also tasty.

i wanted so badly to break my last set of tour curse. it’s definitely a self-imposed, silly, superstitious thing, but my last set of tour iS ALWAYS HOT GARBAGE. i always for sure mess up. and this was probably the best last set of tour i’ve had but still not my best performance all of tour haha. i got lost the bridge of murder mountain and couldn’t hear my bandmates for some reason? fucking embarrassing but!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i cannot stress enough how much fun it was. it truly was. fucking, we’re about to play pixelated and i’m trying to give my SHPIEL about not being a JERK musician and i hear the sounds of “smooth” by carlos santana featuring rob thomas faintly playing through my in-ears. i rip them off and i’m like, what the fuck is going on LMAO. surprise, the pulses. gang were behind it, and tyler, taylor and kevin come dancing up to the stage. i was DEAD. we never do last day of tour pranks so we were fuuuully unprepared hahaha. it was so funny. my meme now takes on a whole new meaning!!

most importantly this show felt like such a fun celebration of tour. pulses., as they did all tour, hyped us up during almost every song and went off for synapse fires. we are too fucking lucky to have them as friends. they really helped make every set and every show feel worth the hours of travel and sometimes stress. to look out and see their faces in the crowd and singing the words uplifted us each night. it’s unfair that we live so far apart. it’s like how they say your soulmate could be literally anywhere in the world but you won’t know until you go look??? it’s like that but with finding supportive friends. i’m not sure if we’ve stressed this enough but this tour gave us strength to keep going as musicians, due in part to their friendship. we always joked like how the fuck we’re supposed to just go on not playing shows together or seeing each other all the time but it really does suck lmao. i was in my feelings in both a good and bad way, soooo i immediately scurried off the stage to go grab a truly the second we were done HAHA

it’s always so sad to watch your friends play their last set of tour, too. well moreso bittersweet! but you know that it’ll be your last time seeing them play for a while. i enjoyed every single minute. i love watching them play hometown shows, too. halfway through we jumped on stage to do the uneasy hearts cover, completely unrehearsed, and i’d say we did a pretty damn good job. such a fun way to send off the woodland creatures tour. i had always wanted to do something like this, where two bands play on stage at once (holla me versus i nd the artwork of). the energy the whole song was so infectious, it was fun to see people in the crowd go off too. also, fucking KRIS KHUNACHAK shot this video with TWO ANGLES holding both his cameras at the same time. i still can’t get over that.

youtube

i love that pulses. played you already know as their closer, it was the perfect way to wrap up their set and the best bookend to the setlist they chose. kevin would get on the mic every night and speak to the crowd, dude is just really good at being a performer and resonating with people. in jacksonville he sat down and everyone followed his lead haha. it was fun to dance one last time with everyone as we watched pulses. kill it before the tour came to an official end. we then gathered outside to take group pictures. it’s the part you don’t wanna get to, because it signals farewells in the near future, but we took some really great ones.

post-gig taco bell plans were foiled, but someone recommended the silver dollar diner nearby. diners outside of jersey are normally horrifying but i trusted the people we were with. we piled back in our vehicles and rolled 20 heads deep to the diner. it was actually a really sick diner with tons of vegan dishes and pretty tasty food. i got chicken noodle soup, red wine and an ice cream sundae because i am a freak of nature. we ate up like 3 tables and sat altogether, just bitching about having to return to real life the following monday. but also, trying to plan the next time we would see each other. already!! and!! talking about doing more shows together. we try to work with different people all the time but there are a select few bands we would tour with or gig with again and again and again and pulses. are one of them. after how much fun this run was it’s pretty hard to imagine not doing this again. it just... makes sense. so much sense. and it feels wrong to not do it again lmao.

goodbyes were bittersweet. we huddled in the parking lot by our van to say goodnight and see ya later, one by one. fuckin, tyler is moving to nashville very soon so we all probably won’t see him for a hot minute :’----------( thankfully everyone else really isn’t that far if we planned a weekend trip to meet halfway or if we wanted to make the trip out to each other, thank god!!! i don’t know what i would do if i couldn’t always have a part of this tour with me, somehow or some way.

afterword

was thinking of adding a lengthy epilogue but it’s essentially just me openly sobbing in the van the entire ride home hahaha. you’d think that every single time it would get easier to come home but it doesn’t. i know why touring impacts me as much as it does emotionally, but when the bittersweet acceptance of coming home pours over into tears like it does, i feel kinda silly. i’m sure that there are musicians who are constantly gigging that would love nothing more than to be home more, and i know that if i was in their shoes i would come to dread touring, too.

i really, truly wish i was in a place, or that my bandmates and i, were in a place to tour more often, but for now we have what we have. and that’s okay. i want to share something beautiful our friend charlene posted today that deeply moved me:

This is the moment. I’ve made it.

People always ask me “what are you gonna do when you’ve made it?” I need you to understand something; I’ve already made it. I am living out my dreams. It’s not easy and obviously I would only hope that’s I will continue to grow, to reach bigger goals, to push the limits. But I’ve already made it. This is the moment. I won’t let myself miss out on the beauty of life that’s right in front of me because I’m too worried about something that may or may not come tomorrow. This is the moment.

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timeoutforthee · 5 years

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This is a commission piece for @ask-villegas-sides, featuring his original characters Beckett, Reese, Flint, and Lev!

Words: 2,127

“Well, this is it,” Lev says looking up at the orphanage. He glances over at Flint and smiles. “Are you ready?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Flint asks. “We are preparing to walk through a door.”

“It’s not a door,” Lev knocks his shoulder against his husband’s, “It’s what the door represents.”

“Oh. You mean the entire concept of parenthood?”

“Yeah!”

“Then I am absolutely not prepared for that,” Flint admits, adjusting his tie.

“Aw, come on! We’ve been planning for this for so long!” Lev says.

“I know, but…,” Flint vaguely gestures at the building, “Children are intimidating.”

“You don’t know if it’ll be a child, it could be a teen!”

“That’s even more intimidating.”

“Aw, come on,” Lev says again, but his eyes go softer, “You’ll be a great dad.”

Despite himself, Flint smiles. “As will you.”

“Are you here for the event?” Someone calls from the front of the building.

Flint and Lev tear their eyes away from each other and start walking up the sidewalk, calling out a “yes!” Lev slips his hands into Flint’s.

“Welcome,” the woman smiles, gesturing for them to follow her.

They go into the orphanage, and are immediately surrounded by bright lights and people. Children and teens are loitered around, some playing, some watching with narrowed eyes. Lev smiles at them all.

The event the woman is referring to is a day that has been marked on their calendar for nearly three months. Flint and Lev have wanted children for a long time, and after some discussions, they decided adoption was right for them. They took the foster parent class, and now they were here at the group home, seeing all the children available for adoption.

“We have the babies and toddlers in a separate room, if you’re more interested…,” the woman hints at them, waiting to see their reaction.

Flint and Lev exchange a glance.

“This is fine for now, thank you,” Flint says.

The woman’s face breaks into a smile, “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

When she left the two alone, some kids also turned their attention away from them. Others tried to shift their attention back to their toys and homework, but their eyes kept drifting over to them.

Flint looked over all of them, trying to wrap his head around the fact that at the end of the day, one of them could be a part of his family. The thought almost overwhelms him, so he pushes it down. One step at a time, he thinks to himself.

He feels Lev knock his shoulder and he glances over. Lev smiles at him.

“Well, we’re not getting to know anyone standing around, silly!”

Flint ducks into a room, to try and find a bit of quiet. He’s been introducing himself and his husband to children for the past hour, trying to find a good fit.

A good fit? He questions himself, This is a change in our life, not a new tie.

He looks up, and notices that this room has one teenager in it. He’s off in the corner, with large headphones over his head. Judging by his lack of reaction, he doesn’t seem to even know Flint is there.

Flint takes a deep breath, savoring the bit of peace, before walking up to him and tapping on his shoulder. The teen jumps, turning to face him and yanking the headphones down.

“Greetings,” he says, “I am Flint. I’m sorry, I did not mean to startle you-”

“It’s, uh, it’s fine,” the teen says, “I’m Beckett.”

“What are you listening to, Beckett?”

If it’s possible, Beckett’s face goes even paler.

“You probably haven’t heard of it, or maybe you have and you just wouldn’t like it, but it’s twenty one pilots.”

“Hm. You’re correct in your first statement, I have not heard of them.”

Beckett looks down at his music player and sighs, before holding his headphones out to Flint. “Here. I mean, if you want to hear them.”

Flint takes the headphones carefully and holds them up to his ears. A light ukulele plays, and the lyrics are quite lovely, about a mother and son and growing old.

“It’s adequate,” Flint says simply.

Beckett stares at him and, very tentatively, smiles up at him.

“Beckett,” he says, “would you like to come meet my husband?”

It doesn’t take him long to find his husband. He’s in a room that seems to be some sort of makeshift theater, with a space centered off for the “stage,” and rows of chairs.

“Flint! I was just going to come look for you!” Lev says, beaming brightly. He’s sat in a chair near the front with another teen in a red and white striped shirt next to him. Lev gestures to him, “This is Reese!”

Beckett feels his stomach drop. He thought he had a chance with this family, like maybe he made a connection with Flint, but if someone like Reese was a better match for their family…

Reese looks over at them both. “Hello!” He calls out.

“That’s my husband I was telling you about,” Lev says. “Flint.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” he says, walking up the aisle to meet them. Beckett follows him, hunched inside his hoodie.

“And who is this?” Lev says, offering him a warm smile.

“Beckett,” he wonders if he should hold his hand out and shake it properly, but right now his hands are trembling too much so he leaves them stuffed in his hoodie pockets where they belong.

If Lev minds, he doesn’t say anything. “Reese was telling me about how he’s interested in singing. Do you like music, Beckett?”

“Oh, Beckett is obsessed with music,” Reese chimes in, “He’s always listening to it on his headphones.”

“Yeah, listening, I don’t sing or anything,” he rushes to clarify.

“Nothing wrong with that, liking it is still interesting! What kind of music is your favorite?”

“I like stuff like twenty one pilots, Panic! At the Disco… that sort of thing.”

“Don’t let him lie,” Reese chimes in again, “He also likes Disney songs. Trust me, I’ve made him sit through movie nights with me.”

“Really?” Flint says, “What are your favorite Disney songs?”

“Uh, Princess and the Frog, Lion King-”

Lev gasps, which almost makes Beckett jump.

“I love Lion King!” Lev claps his hands excitedly, “What was your favorite part?”

And as the three continue talking, Flint gets a sense of peace. A sense that tells him that, yes, this could be their new normal and he’d be okay with that. In fact, more than okay.

After talking for a while, the woman who welcomed them appears again, telling them their time will be up soon.

Flint and Lev exchange a knowing look. Reese and Beckett share an anxious one.

“So, honey,” Lev says to Flint, “How do you feel about having two kids?”

And just like that, the guest room is no longer for guests. They had already set up one room, leaving it well organized but clean so that whoever moved in could design the space however they wanted. The guest room was a little more decorated, so they had to undo that in preparation for the boys’ arrival. When the day came, both boys had rooms next to each other and down the hall from their new parents’. They tried to make them as nice and comfortable and welcoming as possible.

And it was almost too much for Beckett to handle.

The second they walked through the door, Beckett was suddenly hyper aware of everything he did wrong in his life that could possibly lead to him getting sent back. His parents didn’t seem to care about him, how could he expect these total strangers to?

Reese was lamenting about how he was going to decorate his room, the posters he was going to need, the colors he needed to use, when he saw Beckett’s face go pale. He had seen it happen before, but this time it made his heart sink for his new brother.

“Beckett?” he whispered, “Are you okay?”

Beckett tried to take deep, calming breaths as they moved his stuff back to his room. But it wasn’t working.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he whispered back, which makes Reese furrow his eyebrows.

“What do you mean? You’re already doing it,” Reese says, still quiet, “They liked you for you, remember?”

“But they don’t know me,” Beckett hisses, frustrated, “And when they do, they’ll just want to get rid of me.”

“You don’t know-”

“Okay, that was the last of it,” Lev says, walking out of Beckett’s room. He pauses when both boys snaps their heads to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Beckett says, pointedly, giving Reese a look. Reese sighs, but doesn’t say anything. “Nothing at all.”

“Well, okay…,” Lev is pretty sure that’s a lie, but he won’t push. “If you’re sure, then you guys are all set! Now, how about we make you a nice welcome dinner? What do you guys like? Pizza? Everyone likes pizza!”

“Actually, we’re both vegan,” Reese says.

“What a coincidence, so are we! We know some great dishes, we have a recipe book here, if you want to look-”

“Actually,” Beckett says, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to do a little unpacking. You guys can decide what to have, I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“Oh, okay,” Lev says, just a bit disappointed, but then he immediately perks up, “As long as you’re out here for dinner! But yeah, go unpack, you too, Reese, if you want to, I’m sure you guys are a bit overwhelmed, if you need some time, that’s fine!”

“Great,” Beckett says, heading back to his room.

There, right next to his bed, is a window. He can slip out and escape back to the orphanage. Lev and Flint are probably already regretting their decision, so it will be a relief for them. And if by some chance they’re not, it will probably piss them off enough to change their mind.

It’s for the best, Beckett reminds himself.

He walks over to the window and opens it up. He swings one leg out the window and-

“We are not done talking!” Reese says, opening the door without knocking. They both freeze when they see the other.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” it’s a lame excuse and Beckett knows it, but it’s worth a shot.

“Oh yeah? What is it then?”

“Uh…”

“Lev! Flint!”

“What are you doing?” Beckett whispers harshly, finally pulling himself away from the window.

“Yes?” Flint appears at the door, followed closely by Lev.

“Beckett was trying to jump out the window,” Reese tells them.

“I was not!” Beckett says.

“Well, I sure hope not!” Lev says, “That’s dangerous, you could get hurt!”

“Why would you want to do that?” Flint says.

“I wasn’t,” Beckett says, trying to be reassuring.

“He thinks you don’t like him,” Reese says. Beckett shoots him a glare.

“Don’t like him? We welcomed you into our home, I don’t know how we could be more obvious that we do like you,” Flint says, confused.

“I know, and I appreciate it, I do, but I just,” Beckett hangs his head, “I can’t do this.”

“Beckett,” Lev says slowly, trying to hide the panic. He doesn’t want to lose his little family already, “If you really, truly think we’re a bad match, then we can discuss it, but if this is about us not liking you, it’s not true. We love you.”

“How can you say that?!” Beckett snaps, “You barely know me!”

“So we’ll get to know you,” Flint says.

“But when you do, you’re only going to be disappointed, I know you will.”

“We could never be disappointed,” Lev says, placing a hand on Beckett’s shoulder. “Even if we don’t know you yet, we want you to be a part of this family. You’re meant to be a part of this family, I know you are. I knew it as soon as I met you at the orphanage.”

Beckett takes a breath. “I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’m going to screw this up.”

“Beckett, nothing you could do could ever make us stop loving you. No matter how many times you say you hate us, or slam the door, or try and jump out the window. You’re our son now,” Lev says.

“We will all make mistakes,” Flint says, “That’s just what families do. But as long as we have each other, that is the most important thing.”

“So, what do you say?” Lev asks.

“I think...I think we should sit down and have some dinner,” Beckett says, making the two men-making his parents break into a smile. “And by the way? I love you guys, too.”

#my writing #commission

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benjamingarden · 3 years

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This Month On The Farm: November 2020

my "helper" hard at work....

November oh November, where have you gone? So many have wished for 2020 to come to an end and it's hard to believe that it's almost granted!

November was a pretty busy month for us, relatively speaking. While it certainly wasn't the same as most years, we've had a lot going on with our soap & skincare business so that certainly makes the time fly on by. We have been blessed with a lot of online orders as many shopped early for the holidays. We also set-up two local consignment orders for the holidays and one of them, the Brookside Museum, receives a lot of product. We were in a really good place as far as soap goes and then suddenly, as order after order came in, each with a lot of soap, we realized we were running very low. So, we picked up production again but soap takes about a month from start to finish, so we are just getting some of the scents back in stock now. It's been a hard year to predict.

We, for the first time in a LONG time, had our indoor and outdoor Christmas decorations up by Thanksgiving. Every single year I say "hey, we should really try to get the outdoor decorations up while the temps are above freezing". And every year my husband says "yeah, let's make sure to do that". And every year we forget. But not this year! We even had the lights turned on by Thanksgiving night!

Thanksgiving was quiet as it was just the two of us. We usually have a handful of friends over to share the day with but, of course, opted against that this year. I baked a chicken for Jay and a lentil dish for me. I usually do my grocery shopping every month and a half to two months and had timed it so I wouldn't be going to the market the week of Thanksgiving. But then I tasted the new (to us) apple variety I had purchased from the health food store the week before Thanksgiving. They are, in one word, amazing. Have you tried the Sugar Bee apples? Crisp, sweet, and juicy.

the BEST apples ever (and perfect for hoarding)

Soooooo...because this store doesn't always continue to carry the same fruit, and because I couldn't find the organic version anywhere else, I decided I needed to go back and get a dozen more apples. Yes, I hoard any fruit that will last a few weeks and is delicious.

I usually shop Monday mornings when they first open so that's what I did. The Monday of Thanksgiving week I pulled into the lot right before they opened and, surprising to me, so did everyone else. It wasn't too bad once I got out of the produce section, which was a bit of a madhouse. Luckily, no one else was worried about getting apples so I was able to grab my stash and go. While I was there I picked up another pack of the Sweet Earth Hickory "Bacon" and a pack of their "Chik'n", because although I don't eat faux meats regularly, sometimes I like to add them to a dish.

Jay has always been leery of vegan food until the past year or so. He now realizes that I won't ask him to try something that I don't think he'll like (like the Hickory "bacon" - it doesn't taste like or have the texture of bacon but I think it's delicious), or anything that (God forbid) has kale in it. So, he's now open to tasting anything I throw his way. I asked him to taste the "chik'n". I had made a pasta stir fry with teriyaki sauce and handed him a piece of teriyaki chik'n on the fork. He put it in his mouth, thoughtfully chewed it, then swallowed. His immediate response was "that's scary". Yup. They got the texture perfect as long as you fry it first in either a bit of water or oil. He concluded that he'd never know it wasn't chicken.

Anywhoo, the quick trip to the store went ok and I now have a nice stash of delicious apples!

In The Coop

The coop girls are doing well. What very few eggs they've laid, one of them (or more) has eaten. By the time we meander out to look for them all that remains is the empty shell. We've had this problem in the past and getting an egg eater to stop eating eggs is nearly impossible. And so, crazy as it sounds, we continue to feed almost 30 chickens and buy our eggs elsewhere. Jay has finally turned their light on so they feel they are getting a couple of hours more daylight. This should pick production back up now that their molt is complete.

Sidenote: we now have an understanding of what our egg customers have been telling us. Our eggs look and taste much better then the others at our market. I have no idea why. Maybe the feed? We purchased one dozen eggs from another farmer's market vendor 2 years ago and we definitely saw a difference. This time around we've purchased them from a number of different local farmers and cannot get eggs with the same firm deep yellow yolks, thick whites, or clean taste. This has given us confirmation that we will continue with a small flock of chickens to supply our home with eggs once our larger flock naturally reduces.

In The Kitchen

The kitchen remains a fairly busy place. Because we both eat quite differently, 2 separate meals are made 2 times a day (Jay's on his own most mornings for breakfast and I almost always have oatmeal). Our pantry and freezers are well stocked, allowing us the opportunity to space our trips to the store apart quite a bit.

I plan to start sharing our weekly meals and shopping trips again. Many of you have asked for it's return and I enjoy looking at other blogs meal plans and shopping trips too, so I am determined to bring it back as a regular feature. It's just a matter of making it habit again.

I've been going through my cookbook collection, one at a time, and trying a handful of new recipes each month. I've found some winners to add to the regular line-up!

Oliver & Jackson

Well, the boys are doing well. Oliver is sleeping back in his own bed (woo hoo!!!) and Jack has his own suite for night-time. You've gotta sell it with fancy wording, right?

It's the spare bedroom.

But you know what? For some reason, at 10 minutes to 10, EVERY night, he comes looking for me to tuck him into his suite. And so I do. Gladly! He gets his (affiliate link) Bach's Rescue Remedy (fondly referred to as his anti-jerk medicine) which he seems to like, and then to bed he goes. Now this is a huge win-win. For one, it makes Oliver incredibly happy to know Jack won't be creeping around him in the middle of the night. And two, our toes can freely become uncovered while we sleep with no risk of a cat attack.

In the morning I get Oliver up and out to do his business, feed him, give him meds, get the chickens up, and then let Jack out. He sits by the door and patiently (can you believe I'm saying the words patient AND Jack in one sentence????) waits for me to open it for the day.

The first 2 weeks were absolute torture, but after that he's been perfectly content with the new arrangement.

In The Garden

Well, the garden was officially put to bed at the end of the month. I decided to harvest all of the greens before snow buried it, so production is done until spring. It's left open so the coop girls can visit while they are free ranging, and those who make their way into the raised beds absolutely love them. They scratch and peck and sunbath. We also have 2 rather large wild bunnies who visit every evening, which is perfectly fine by me. They are locked out during the growing season but encouraged to visit now. They can get the last bits of greens and dropped berries from one of our trees.

What I've Been Reading (contains affiliate links)

I've read a couple books that I wasn't crazy about - actually one of them, Ten Tiny Breaths by K.A. Tucker, an author I enjoy, I stopped reading halfway through because I just didn't like it. It's the first of a series that has a lot of positive comments, but it just isn't for me.

Two of the books I really enjoyed this month are:

Rosie's Travelling Tea Shop, by Rebecca Raisin

The Bitter And Sweet Of Cherry Season: A Novel, by Molly Fader (I really enjoyed this book)

And on a completely unrelated note, I splurged on a new pair of slippers this month from Vermont Country Store and I LOVE them!

That's November around the homestead!

This Month On The Farm: November 2020 was originally posted by My Favorite Chicken Blogs(benjamingardening)

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helenaalyssa · 6 years

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Six places to indulge this Pancake Day in London

London restaurants have upped their Pancake game for this years Pancake Day or Shrove Tuesday as it's most commonly named. From savoury offerings, pizza and vegan pancakes there really is something for everyone to over-indulge in in London for this year's Pancake Day - and falling a day before Valentine's Day this year why not use this as the perfect excuse to treat yourself to a pre-Valentines date night or just drown your sorrows in stacks of pancakes... here are a selection of six that I think are definitely worth a visit!

Christopher's

Christopher's in Covent Garden, famed for their ultra fabulous and delicious french toast are going big this year to celebrate Pancake Day. The three specials include a multi-coloured vegan option, featuring Beetroot & Sunflower Seed, Rainbow Chard & Spirulina, and Pumpkin, Caramelised Onion & Turmeric, all garnished with pomegranate, Bee Pollen and Coconut Yoghurt.

Personally, I'm looking forward to the French Toast one In homage to their infamous dessert, Christopher’s will re-create their French Toast in pancake form. Buttermilk French-toasted pancakes will be served with honeycomb pieces, honeycomb ice cream, maple syrup and a dusting of cinnamon – with optional chocolate sauce for those wanting it extra-sweet, this sounds right up my street!

Finally there's he Lobster one for a tad of American luxury, a lavish grilled lobster with sea kale and chorizo, all on top of a Purple & Sweet Potato Pancake. All available throughout 13th Feb.

Covent Garden, 18 Wellington St, London WC2E 7DD

christophersgrill.com

Dirty Bones

As part of Dirty Bones' brand new brunch menu they are now offering pancakes,and not just any old pancakes, double dutch pancakes! The signature dish involves a deep dish pancake topped with fresh clotted cream and blueberries, served with a shot of maple syrup. The good news is that this pancake will be sticking around after Pancake Day so there's loads of opportunity to get it down you! If you missed my Dirty Bones brunch review you can check it out here.

Kensington, Carnaby, Soho & Shoreditch

dirty-bones.com

Breakfast Club

The almighty Breakfast Club have some up with some genius creations making all of our pancake dreams come true for this year's Pancake Day. You can expect Pizza Pancakes teaming up with Pizza Pilgrims, fried chicken delicacies teaming up with Coqfighter, vegan delights and even boozy pancakes thanks to a collab with Bulleit Whiskey.

Their famous Pancake Day challenge is also back, simply eat a stack of 12 in 12 minutes or less and win your stack on them. The specials are available from the 12 - 18 Feb but the challenge will only be available on the 13th Feb.

Angel, Battersea Rise, Canary Wharf, Croydon, Hackney Wick, Hoxton, London Bridge, Soho, Spitalfields

www.thebreakfastclubcafes.com/events/pancake-club-2018

The Book Club

The Book Club never fail to disappoint for Pancake Day - and this year on offer is a boozy stack of fluffy American pancakes, glued together with delicious Kahlua Cream, covered in chocolate, Espresso and vodka sauce and topped with even more Kahlua Cream. If that hasn’t sold it to you then I don’t know what will.

Grab the stack at The Book Club between 9am – 10pm on Tuesday 13th February.

100-106 Leonard St, EC2A 4RH

thebookclub.eventcube.io/events/10140/pancake-day

Joe's Southern Table

If chicken and waffles can work so well I have all the faith in the world that the fusion of fried chicken and pancakes would be beautiful. Joe’s Southern Table & Bar in Covent Garden is passionate about deep southern flavours; their fluffy pancake stack is topped with sweet tea-brined southern-fried chicken and lathered in Jim Beam bourbon maple syrup.

34 King St, London WC2E 8JD

joessouthern.co.uk

Polo Bar

If you have to work late or simply have no time during the day, Liverpool Street’s 24-hour favourite; Polo Bar, is your savior! This year they have teamed up with Jude’s ice cream to whip up three mouth-watering specials for Shrove Tuesday.

Don't miss the red velvet & cherry ripple ice cream stack (topped with a slice of red velvet cake OMG!!), for the traditional dessert lovers they have also whipped up a stack of apple crumble and custard pancakes complete with Jude's custard ice cream as well as a healthier alternative of tropical pancakes topped with Jude's mango and passion fruit frozen yogurt and fresh fruit.

Their ultimate challenge is also back for another year, if you missed me being defeated the Polo bar Pancake Day challenge last year, be sure to check it out here. These stacks are only available until Tuesday 13th Feb!

176 Bishopsgate, London EC2M 4NQ

polo24hourbar.co.uk

#pancake day 2018 #pancake day london #helena alyssa #polo bar #pancake challenge #the book club #red velvet pancakes #breakfast club #pizza pancakes #dirty bones #brunch #christophers #christophers covent garden #shrove tuesday #joe's southern table #fried chicken pancakes #breakfast

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years

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The Uncertain Future of Pop-Up Restaurants

Leigh-Ann Martin chats with guests at one of her pop-up dinners. | Dahli Durley

As the restaurant industry faces an ongoing crisis, pop-up chefs confront unique challenges during the pandemic

Three months ago, Omar Tate was serving an $150 eight-course tasting menu out of a penthouse event space in New York’s Financial District. The dinner, featuring such dishes called Notes From a Black Pantry and Cart of Yams, was one of Tate’s Honeysuckle pop-ups, which explore and pay homage to the black experience through food and art. Now, Tate is staying in a spare room at his mom’s house in Philadelphia. With multicourse dinners out of the question during the coronavirus pandemic, he’s cooking in her kitchen, posting a menu on his Instagram, and selling dishes to the public for $10 to $12 each. The setting is dissimilar to that of a New York penthouse, but he plans each menu as thoughtfully as ever, still tracing and celebrating black American foodways. Last week, Tate cooked lamb in a pit, serving the meat — marinated in palm oil and smoky from the oak he’d used as fuel — along with pickled vegetables and tart, lemony potatoes.

“All the things that go into what I make still have that same intentionality,” he says. “It was never about the theater of it all, which is the dining room. It’s not about that.”

“The beauty of a pop-up is that they are malleable. They’re kind of like an amoeba.”

The pop-up model has long been an alternative for cooks who lack access to the capital needed to launch and operate a restaurant, or who are disenfranchised by the culture and structure of traditional kitchens. For women and people of color in the restaurant industry, who are all too often refused the opportunities and resources that their white male counterparts enjoy, the pop-up model serves to democratize the cooking and sharing of food.

In some cities, pop-ups — particularly those in home kitchens — face legal challenges, but in most, they can operate as long as food is prepared in a commissary or restaurant kitchen. This shape-shifting model isn’t just a second choice for would-be restaurant owners. The fluidity and flexibility of the pop-up allows for a certain kind of creativity — blending art, history, performance, and food into a single dinner, for instance — that the constraints of most restaurants don’t allow.

Without brick-and-mortar locations, deep pockets, or much government assistance, pop-up chefs face unique challenges during the pandemic. But as it becomes increasingly unclear what restaurants will look like in a post-pandemic world, these businesses are also uniquely positioned to meet the needs of local communities, and maybe even offer a vision for dining in the future — if they can last that long.

“The beauty of a pop-up — and I’ve only learned this since I’ve been forced out of [restaurant] spaces because of the current situation that we’re in — is that they are malleable,” Tate says. “They’re kind of like an amoeba.”

Haamza Edwards

For a recent pop-up dinner, Tate slow-smoked lamb legs in a pit.

A change of plans

Three years after launching the Vegan Hood Chefs in San Francisco’s Bayview neighborhood, Ronnishia Johnson and Rheema Calloway were ready to turn their pop-up into a permanent space this year.

“As a minority-owned [business], we were looking to use this year as a way to show that we are profitable, in order to be able to apply for capital to reach our ultimate goal, which is to get a brick-and-mortar [location],” Johnson says. The pair, neither of whom had any restaurant experience before launching, started the Hood Vegan Chefs out of necessity. In their predominantly black San Francisco neighborhood, there were no grocery stores in sight, and Johnson and Calloway were confronted by an unpleasant truth: No one was going to come into their community and create more options for healthy living. Opening a restaurant seemed the most effective way to take matters into their own hands and provide fresh food to their neighbors.

Ronnishia Johnson (left) and Rheema Calloway

The dream of restaurant ownership is off the table, for now at least. Like so many other pop-up restaurant owners across the country, Johnson and Calloway are glad just to be breaking even. But in the face of a crisis that has put restaurants on the brink of permanent closure, many pop-up chefs are questioning whether restaurant ownership is the end goal after all.

“We’re putting the brick and mortar on hold. It may not necessarily be what the community needs right now,” Johnson says. “What they need may be [for us] to keep this pop-up sustainable. And that looks like using the money we would have put down on a brick and mortar to possibly build our team so that we have more individuals who are able to pop up at already existing restaurants, to be able to provide food for the community.” Though the Vegan Hood Chefs doesn’t have the capital to expand in the way Johnson and Calloway had hoped to this year, their fresh vegan offerings are delivered throughout the Bay Area once a week, providing customers with trays of prepared grains, greens, and meat substitutes.

Before the pandemic, a majority of the Vegan Hood Chefs’ revenue was generated through large events, all of which have been canceled. The same is true for many pop-up chefs, who relied on large food events and ticketed dinners to provide the bulk of their income. But with no massive overhead costs, and a business model already designed to be adaptable, pop-ups around the country are adjusting quickly.

Until recently, Salimatu Amabebe traveled state to state hosting their dinner series, Black Feast. Each dinner was informed by and centered around the work of a black artist, the art inspiring the menu. The meal was never just a dinner, nor was it a gallery exhibition. Often, the hardest part of planning the events was finding a space where art and food could coexist.

It has been hard for Amabebe to imagine what such an experiential dinner could look like as a takeout-only operation. On a recent Sunday night in Berkeley, California, they decided to give it a try. After planning what would be the first Black Feast event with no communal dining element, Amabebe became weighed down by videos circulating online of the violence black people are facing during the pandemic. Ordinarily, a Black Feast dinner would serve as a way to bring people together over a meal, a chance to process current events or just relax in the comfort of community. With in-person gatherings out of the question, Amambebe had to find other ways to deliver that same feeling through a takeout window.

“What do people need right now, what does my community need right now?” Amabebe asked themself as they planned the meal. The menu that they came up with was inspired by the work of Oakland-based artist Lukaza Branfman-Verissimo, and captured the urgency and frustration of the moment.

Jessa Carter

Salimatu Amabebe (right) poses in front of the takeout window with artist Lukaza Branfman-Verissimo.

Each to-go order was wrapped in a print designed by Lukaza, featuring painted phrases such as “Say her name,” the other side printed with a transcribed interview between Amabebe and Lukaza. Inside the paper wrapping were containers of rich and mellow black-eyed pea and tomato stew, and big slices of ever-so-slightly earthy spinach-vanilla cake with yam buttercream.

With donations from friends and past Black Feast guests around the country, Amabebe was able to give free meals to black customers who came to pick them up. “It was really cool to see that it’s possible to change this model and share food with people, and nourish people in the community. And not all have to come together at the table,” they say.

When Amabebe isn’t planning for the next Black Feast dinner, they sell loaves of bread and jars of Nigerian chai from the takeout window of the building where they’re currently finishing an artist’s residency. As restaurants reopen across the country, and chefs try to work out what cooking for the public again will look like, Amabebe doesn’t really have a plan for the future. “It’s difficult because when you base the model of what you do on community care for others and not on profit, it puts you in a position that is, in some ways, freeing,” Amabebe says. “But also, there isn’t always a specific plan for how things are going to go, and there aren’t a lot of funds to move around. In some ways, it’s easy to shut down: ‘Okay, well, we’re not doing these events.’ But also, what the fuck do we do?”

What comes next

There are fewer barriers to entry for chefs launching pop-ups than for those opening restaurants. There are usually no investors to answer to, fewer overhead costs, and few or no employees to pay. Some of the pop-up chefs I spoke to had not registered their operations with the government, and had — at one point or another — done business under the table, not paying taxes. During a pandemic, the lack of structure that once felt liberating can bring on a sense of uncertainty and anxiousness.

“All of my money was coming from pop-ups, all of it,” Tate says. While peers with investors or savings accounts cushioned by parents or spouses have put money aside, Tate couldn’t plan for a rainy day, let alone an all-out storm. “That was literally my entire financial life and safety net. I was living contract to contract.” Tate applied for a $10,000 Paycheck Protection Program loan, and was granted $1,000. He hasn’t been able to get through to the overwhelmed unemployment application portal.

With no money left in her bank account, Illyanna Maisonet decided to halt her pop-up dinners during the pandemic. The chef and writer (she’s written for Eater on several occasions) ran social media for a popular San Francisco blogger, and in her spare time, she’s hosted Puerto Rican dinners in her small casita — a separate dining space in her Sacramento, California backyard. Maisonet never thought of herself as a brand or a business before the pandemic. Now, it feels like there’s nowhere to turn for help. “I have no hustle because all my side hustles require being outside,” she says. “So [there’s] no money coming in, no income.” The final blow came when Maisonet had to cancel a dinner she had already sold tickets for, and some of her guests refused her offer to deliver meals to their front door. “That was, like, a really good chunk of money... So now I have negative money in my bank account. I haven’t been negative in my bank account since I was in my 20s.”

Ryan Soule

Solomon Johnson prepares for dinner service.

Refunding customers right now could force small pop-ups to shut down for good. When Solomon Johnson, the chef behind the Oakland, California-based pop-up and catering company Omni World Kitchen, had to return $13,000 for canceled events, it felt inevitable that he would have to close his business. “I’m on a shoestring budget,” he says. “So after giving back all those refunds, I was almost convinced that I was going to have to completely shut down.” Solomon managed to secure a loan through the micro-loan organization Kiva, which kept his business just barely afloat, as he watched major restaurant chains receive the same PPP loan he’d been denied.

Johnson isn’t in a rush to start delivering plates of food during quarantine, citing concerns about his own health. While in-person events are on hold, he’s taken his business online, looking for new ways to create income. He’s just finished designing a line of merchandise, and completed edits on his first cookbook. “I really decided to think on my feet,” he says.

Meeting diners where they are

While many pop-up chefs express uncertainty about what the future might bring, others are hopeful they’ll be among the first to get back on their feet. When the time comes for restaurants to reopen in New Jersey, Leigh-Ann Martin has one of the most intimate dining spaces in town: Her kitchen table. Martin’s pop-up, A Table for Four — named for the snug table in her dining room where she serves guests — revolves around Trinidadian dishes cooked in her Union City kitchen.

As diners begin to reenter society, Martin suspects they’ll want a level of intimacy that restaurants in the early phases of reopening won’t be able to provide. “If people are going to feel safe enough to leave their home to come out, I feel like they’re going to want to do more than eat,” Martin says. She hopes to offer them an experience that falls somewhere between restaurant dining and eating at home. She’ll send them packing with recipes from the menu she serves, so they can recreate favorite Trinidadian dishes in their own kitchens, until the next time they brave the outside world.

Though his Oakland pop-up remains closed for now, Solomon Johnson also sees a future for his business when Northern Californians reemerge from the shutdown. “I know people will be excited to go out and eat again,” he says. “But the last thing you want to do is go to a restaurant that feeds 150 people... So I think that having a business model structured around smaller, intimate gatherings will probably be very lucrative after all of this. And that’s what I’ve been doing for almost five years now.”

In some ways, pop-ups have become more and more like traditional restaurants over the years, serving food out of restaurant dining rooms or large event spaces in place of home kitchens and front porches. With restaurants still closed in many states, and event spaces and bars unlikely to welcome pop-ups back any time soon, the model has been stripped down to its simplest form. “The future of pop-ups, now that people are paying attention,” Tate says, “is what they’ve always been: Something that pops up somewhere to feed people. And all that’s required is trust.”

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2TORAOH https://ift.tt/36E2FqW

Leigh-Ann Martin chats with guests at one of her pop-up dinners. | Dahli Durley

As the restaurant industry faces an ongoing crisis, pop-up chefs confront unique challenges during the pandemic

“All the things that go into what I make still have that same intentionality,” he says. “It was never about the theater of it all, which is the dining room. It’s not about that.”

“The beauty of a pop-up is that they are malleable. They’re kind of like an amoeba.”

Haamza Edwards

For a recent pop-up dinner, Tate slow-smoked lamb legs in a pit.

A change of plans

Three years after launching the Vegan Hood Chefs in San Francisco’s Bayview neighborhood, Ronnishia Johnson and Rheema Calloway were ready to turn their pop-up into a permanent space this year.

Ronnishia Johnson (left) and Rheema Calloway

Jessa Carter

Salimatu Amabebe (right) poses in front of the takeout window with artist Lukaza Branfman-Verissimo.

What comes next

Ryan Soule

Solomon Johnson prepares for dinner service.

Meeting diners where they are

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2TORAOH via Blogger https://ift.tt/2AjtmoM

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

0 notes

uberff · 7 years

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Chapter 8

Robyn

"You really need some soap in your lil' filthy mouth." I shook my head as I listened to Jaylen's battle rap with Odell. Literally every word they used was bitch, shit, fuck, pussy and etc. Basically what everybody raps about nowadays. Don't get me wrong, some of these rappers actually do the trick when I need to get hype but I was always an old soul. Then again, I literally listen to anything.

I knew Jaylen was playing though, because he's read some of his poetry before and it's deep. He read it to me a while back when we were first getting to know each other but that was it. It's like you have to break down this big wall to get Jaylen to open up.

"My mama used to tell me the same thing." He laughed as he danced to the music playing in the living room. I could tell that he loved music from the way he was dancing. He was actually good. He's literally good at everything.

"Now you know I'm the King around here when it comes to this dancing shit." Odell stood up from the couch. He was about to give me a headache.

"Get yo man." I shook my head as I nudged Winter.

"I ain't claiming him with those corny ass dancing skills, get yo brother." She nudged back making me laugh.

I knew they were only dancing to make time go by faster so the food could be ready. I was cooking for all of them. I'm trying to spend more time with them all because Jaylen told me about myself. I honestly didn't even realize how fake I was being. I swear love has you so blind but luckily I caught myself and wasn't delusional about it.

It's just that... I get really insecure when it comes to relationships. My very first boyfriend cheated on me and made me believe that it was my fault. While I was in High School, I was cheering and if I wasn't cheering, I was in any club you could think of. The guy I was dating felt as if I was putting everything before him, so every time I would be out occupied with my extracurricular activities, he would be cheating.

He made me believe that it was my fault that he cheated, and each time I think about it I just cringe because of how naive I was. I don't know.. sometimes I just feel like the same thing is gonna happen with Kai so I try to spend more time with him. I need to realize that every guy isn't my ex.

After Jaylen walked in on me, I felt extremely like shit. Especially because I had just kissed him the night before when I'm the one that told him to keep our relationship strictly friendly. Luckily, neither of us has brought it up ever since it happened.

I haven't told Kai about the kiss yet and I don't plan on it because I know he's gonna be so pissed. Not even pissed, more heartbroken than anything because I stood there and told him that Jaylen was just a friend and he didn't have anything to worry about. I wasn't good with keeping secrets or lying so I knew eventually the truth was going to come out.

Jaylen was a bit distant at first but he's back like he never left.

While I stirred up the bowl filled with strawberry cake mix, I swayed my hips to the soft R&B playing. It was literally my favorite genre when it came to music. You could never go wrong with R&B. Especially the 90's and early 2000's.

Just as I was about to pour the mix into the pan Jaylen bumped into me which made some get on my cheek. "Look at yo clumsy ass." He laughed as he held me in place before licking the mix off of my cheek. Here he goes.

"I don't know where your nasty mouth been." I scrunched up my face. Jaylen got around so I know it ain't just been on me.

"On you." He winked at me before making his way back into the living room. I just shrugged his comment off and proceeded to put the pan of cake mix in the oven. Everything else was done, I just wanted everything to be ready at once. My mom used to do the same thing.

"Damn Robyn what's taking you so long?" Odell came into the kitchen while rubbing his stomach. He literally just came from nasty ass McDonalds so he should be the last person complaining.

I wasn't eating any of this, because I was a complete vegan now but it wouldn't hurt to cook for them. I had a nice black bean burrito waiting for me in the microwave.

"O, your greedy self just had something to eat." I shook my head as I opened the fridge to grab a water bottle. Odell had this fridge filled with Gatorade. Yuck.

"I know but whatever you cooking smell good." He smirked.

"You've always been hella greedy."

"Speaking of.. look what I found." He smiled as he pulled a picture from his pocket. He sat it on the countertop and I gasped. It was a picture of my dad at one of the many barbecues we had. He would literally have one every time he took a break from working. He was really tight with his family and homeboys so having get together's was just an all time thing for him.

"That's the day your greedy self ate his plate!" I laughed loudly as I held my stomach. My dad would always smoke and drink Hennessy in the backyard at every cookout with all the men, so my mom and I knew to leave him a plate some where every time because he'd get really hungry. I made his plate because my mom was catching up with the women in his family, and I had forgot to write his name on it. He literally was on everyone's case about it until he walked in the living room only to see O going in on it.

"He was about to about to beat someone's ass until he realized it was me." Odell laughed, shaking his head.

"He brought that up every time he saw you."

"Ya pops was funny as hell."

"Yea.." my laughter died as I went over to the oven to check on the cake. I didn't really like talking about my parents, because it was emotional for me every time. I still don't think what happened to them was fair. They were both very good people.

Sometimes I feel like it was my fault because I didn't lock the door like he told me to that previous night. This is why I reminded Jaylen every second of the day to start locking his.

"You fuck with Jaylen?" He asked breaking me out of my thoughts.

"What?" He gave me a look and I sighed.

"No, were literally just friends. You know I have Kai."

"Cause y'all think I don't be peeping all that flirting shit. Y'all literally look at each other like chicken. That's my boy and all but just like I told him.. I don't want you messing with him on that level. He wild." He explained as I just nodded and pretended to be listening. Was it really that noticeable?

"You don't even have to worry about that O, we're literally just friends. But everything should be ready in like 5 minutes so tell them to come in here and wash their hands." I told him as he nodded and went back into the living room. Not even a second later, Jaylen and Winter were rushing into the kitchen.

"Wah deh pah di menu!" Winter said excitedly as Jaylen and I twisted up our faces in confusion. Odell was used to it by now.

"Speak English, we don't understand that shit." Jaylen spoke as she flicked him off and rolled her eyes.

I shook my head as I brought our plates to the table. "You need help?" Winter asked as I nodded.

"Just don't touch my food." Jaylen said to her. These two could never chill for two minutes.

"Don't worry, ill make sure to spit in it." She smiled as she took the food off of the stove. I had made beef and chicken enchiladas. The cake was for Jaylen because he's literally been begging me to make it.

Once Winter had made their plates, I got out the cups to pour them all some lemonade. Once everything was finished, I wiped the imaginary sweat off of my forehead and sat down.

My phone had lit up in my pocket, so I knew it was a text. When I read the screen, I seen Kai's name.

Kaibear😍: Wyd rn

Me: spending time with family, why wassup?

Kaibear😍: oh my bad, just come by later then.

I nodded as if he could see me before setting my phone down and putting my attention on everyone's faces. It was quiet because they all were grubbing.

"Why you not eating? I know you hungry." Jaylen questioned.

"Yea, you usually got an appetite like O." Winter joined. That was a lie.

"Y'all ain't seen What The Health?" I questioned as Odell and Winter shrugged. Besides that documentary, I just wanted to overall live a healthier lifestyle. Eating cleaner was one way to start.

"Yea.. but I done came this far so fuck it. We all gone die one day anyways. Fuck living in caution. It's way too much food out here to be eating healthy and shit. It ain't like I eat junk all the time." I shook my head at his response before chuckling. This boy wasn't scared of death at all. The thought of it scares the hell out of me.

"True." Odell agreed.

"Can't relate." I drank some more of my water.

"Oh yea, I ain't washing dishes either so one of y'all better get to scrubbing." I looked at all of them. Jaylen drank the rest of his juice before getting up.

"I don't live here so.." He quickly licked his plate clean before darting towards the door and leaving. Every time something got messed up he would always pull that I don't live here card. Yet he was over here like everyday.

"I'll wash em.." Odell laughed before shaking his head at his lazy best friend.

"Good! That'll give me and Winter more time to each other."

"Gay." Odell said under his breath, making Winter thump him. He held his ear and looked at her like he wanted to kill her.

Laughing at them, I grabbed her hand and led us to my room.

"Kai!" I called out as I dropped my keys on the coffee table. I seen a light on, but his house was so damn big that I didn't know where it was coming from. I should've called before I came.

I walked further down the hall, and noticed that he was in his office. I didn't know if I should go in or just wait for him because he told me we were going some where. I didn't like being disturbed when I was working on something and I'm pretty sure he didn't either.

"You know school's about to start so how about free haircuts and stuff for the kids? You know you've always wanted to give back." I heard a female voice. I guess I was gonna go in. I knew he had females that worked at every barbershop he owned, so that's probably what she was here for. After he explained everything to me about his assistant, I trusted him. He didn't have to introduce me to every female he worked with.

"Kai, I know you heard me calling you." I walked in as he sat at his desk with his reading glasses on. They looked so good on him.

"I didn't, I was too busy discussing some shit. Wassup?" He pulled me onto his lap, kissing me on the lips. I looked at the woman who sat in front of his desk and noticed that she looked familiar. I couldn't put my finger on it though. I've seen her some where. Maybe at one of Kai's shops?

She gave me a fake smile but I just shrugged it off.

"I just wanted to know where you were. When you're done, meet me in your room." I got off of his lap, standing up. He nodded and cleared his throat.

"Babe this is my assistant Kayla, Kayla this is my girlfriend Robyn." Kai introduced us as I studied her. She smiled before holding her hand out for me to shake.

"Wow.. it's nice to finally meet you. I've heard so many things about you." She smiled forcefully. So she was just going to act like she wasn't just talking shit about me via text message?

"Wow.. I've heard nothing about y-"

"Ok! Babe, I got something waiting for you upstairs. You should go check that out." Kai said as he rubbed my thigh before helping me up. I nodded and kissed him before leaving.

As I made my way to his room, I cut the light on and noticed rose petals trailing towards the bed. I was literally melting on the inside.

There was a big life size card lying on the bed, and I was dying to read it. When I opened it, both sides were filled with words. It must've taken him ages to fill this whole card up.

"Baby, you trying to go out to ea-"

"Come here!" I jumped on him, making us both fall in the process but neither of us didn't care.

"You read the letter?" He laughed as he looked up at me since I had fell on top of him.

"Not yet but the fact that you did all this.." I bit my lip as I noticed the fresh fade he had just got plus the trim on his beard. I haven't seen him all week because I've been trying to spend more time with everyone plus he's been busy.

Before he could say anything else I beat him to it. "Babe you look so good right now." I looked him in his dark cocoa brown eyes.

"Oh yea?" He smiled, biting his bottom lip. I nodded, as he chuckled.

"What's on ya mind?" He questioned as he held my hand.

"How bad I wanna please you right now." A smile instantly crept up on his face.

"I would love that, but I wanna take you out first so let's go." He said as he helped me up off of the floor. Grabbing my purse for me, we both left out of his room hand in hand. Good thing he reminded me to dress nice.

While we walked through the hall, he stopped by his office and looked at the woman who was previously here. She was cheesing extra hard, while she walked around the office, picking up things and held a conversation on the phone at the same time. "Jaylen seriously." She laughed, talking to whomever on her phone.

Jaylen? Well, that could be anybody.

"You supposed to be in here working, not chopping it up on the phone." Kai walked in, making her jump. She rolled her eyes before putting her phone away then getting out paperwork.

"I already did. The deal's finalized. We're about to be Bill Gates rich!" she smiled as she passed the papers down to him. What deal? We?

"You lying.." he said, not bothering to look at the papers.

"Look for yourself." She smirked as she folded her arms over her chest.

He looked at her once before picking up the papers and observing them. After a few seconds of reading, he immediately picked her up and spun her sound in the air cheering. What the hell..

The feeling of jealousy instantly took over my body and I couldn't help but to feel like I was in competition with her. I've never seen him this excited before. You would've thought the letter was from God himself telling Kai that he was going to heaven.

"We did it! You're a genius Kayla!" He shook her in excitement as I stood here awkwardly. Maybe I should leave.. You would've thought she was the one that he was supposed to be taking out.

I got cute for nothing.

"No you are!" She yelled back as their cheering died down.

"Babe, aren't yo-" He noticed the look on my face and cut himself off. I just took that as my queue to leave.

I obviously wasn't needed.

Jaylen

"Bro get yo ugly ass on." I shoved Odell as he stood in front of the TV while we was playing a competitive ass game of 2k. I was talking mad shit before we started playing and now my ass bout to lose.

I didn't even plan on talking shit. He kept pushing my buttons so it was bound to happen. I wasn't bout to let him play me like I was a bitch. I was winning until his big ass decided to block the whole fucking tv. Cheating ass nigga.

"Playing too fucking much." I shook my head, getting serious because this shit was getting intense. I never lost a game to him and if I did today, I was literally gone jump off a cliff. I'd lose my damn mind.

"Look at you bout to cry and shit!" He laughed loudly, teasing me as I clenched my jaw and slapped his hand out my face. I was about to fuck him up in the blink of an eye if he kept playing with me. I was about to lose 1k and his rich ass thought it was funny. Ain't shit funny about my money.

I don't care how much money I got, I came from nothing so money was still a big deal for me. If some one was to owe me a dollar, I would still want my fucking dollar rich or not. This nigga O could blow his nose with this 1k I was about to lose to him like it was nothing. I couldn't let my money go to waste like that.

"Hey Jaylen?" I heard Robyn's voice making me suck my teeth. I was starting to think that O put her up to this shit. She's been here since I got here and not once has she tried to get my attention.

"Not now Robyn damn, gone some where." I groaned as I looked at the time and there was only 10 seconds left in the game.

I was either gone make it or break it.

Besides this bullshit ass performance I just presented in this damn game, I was fucking starving. The baked potato I had in the microwave was calling my name and I couldn't wait to go get it. We've been playing this game for literally hours. I'm not even the type of nigga to be on the game all day, but this shit had to be done.

"WHERE MY MONEY AT?" He yelled breaking me out of my thoughts. I looked up at the screen and my mouth was formed into the shape of an O. My stupid ass wasn't even paying attention.

Fuck.

"Fuck you and this game, you cheated hard then a bitch." I plopped down on the couch as I took the stack out my pocket and tossed it to him.

He ignored me and took the stack, putting it in his pocket and dancing his way to his room. Fuck his noodle head ass. It felt like I just got my heart broken all over again.

I heard footsteps so I looked around and noticed Rob coming out of the kitchen with fruit in her hand. I had forgot she was still down here. "What you had wanted?" She rolled her eyes. I was gone get her ass for that ugly shit.

"Nothing since you had that stank attitude over a damn game." She started to walk back towards her room. I hated when females said that shit. It wasn't just no damn game.

Shaking my head at her dumb and selfish choice of words, I got up so I could go drive around some where.

I had a whole free weekend. I didn't have to paint anything for any clients, and I wasn't really inspired to just free style with it. Every time I had free time like this, I never knew what to do. Maybe a museum would get me inspired.

I would do something with Robyn but she just pissed me off when she rolled her eyes at me. I hated that shit. I knew her stubborn ass was mad too. I guess I'll be the bigger person like I always fucking was.

Me: get out yo feelings and come ride wit me 🙄

After that whole incident with her kissing me then hopping back on her nigga dick, I kept my distance for a few days. She really had me fucked up like everybody knows you don't do shit like that. She broke the code.

I was over it though.

My phone had went off, indicating that I had a text. It was Robyn after taking forever to type the damn little amount of words she sent.

Robyn🌸: bye cause you just ruined my day.

I smacked my lips and started to type what was on my mind.

Me: girl if you don't bring yo fake mad ass to this damn car 😒 ain't nobody ruin ya day stop over exaggerating.

I put my phone down and waited for her to come down to my car. Turning the radio up, some shit I was tired of hearing at the moment was playing so I just played music from my phone. A little Future wouldn't hurt.

Once my passenger door opened, I looked over and Robyn had plopped down in the seat with that same ugly ass mug on her face. "You really mad? What you mad about?" I laughed, poking at her side only for her to swat my hand away.

"Because you got an unnecessary attitude with me over a game and shooed me off like I was one of your slaves or something. " she explained as I groaned and rested my head on the steering wheel. Now I was about to have to kiss her ass.

It wasn't that deep.

Then again, she was sensitive as hell so I wasn't surprised. I guess I hurt her feelings. I honestly ain't mean to get an attitude with her, I was too caught up in the game. It happens.

"Rob.. I'm sorry. I ain't mean to just brush you off like that, but when I'm playing the game I honestly don't be paying attention to what I say. You can't take a nigga serious. You know I wouldn't just shrug you off like that on the regular so why you tripping?" I apologized to her overly sensitive ass, hoping she'd accept it.

She must be on her period. Had to be.

"I'm sorry it's just that today isn't really my day.. I woke up to see my phone blowing up because this damn girl stole my designs. I work really hard on them just to have them stolen." She shook her head. I've been meaning to ask her about that because it was literally all over my twitter.

I don't know why she was surprised. Them hoes steal everything. I'd be pissed too though.

"Nigga you better sue that ho-" I was cut off by the sound of my phone ringing. I picked it up and answered without checking who it was.

"Yo," I answered. This was my personal phone so I could just answer it any kind of way. If it was my business phone, I made sure to sound as white as possible.

Anything was possible when you sounded Caucasian over the phone. That's why I be getting so many gigs now.

"Hey, you called?" I sucked my teeth. It was Kayla's busy ass. I literally called before me and O started playing the game.

"Girl that was hours ago."

"I'm sorry, you know it's about that time for every one to start going back to school so business has been hectic lately because of the sales." She explained, which she didn't have to. I was playing with her. I knew when it came to working for the nigga she worked for, she put her time and dedication into it.

I understood everything. My line has been blinging non-stop because these teachers wanted me to paint their halls, classrooms, and etc. I didn't have to start until next week, that's why I was trying to chill and kick it right now.

The vibe she gave off was fun to be around. We could drink and talk about shit literally for hours. Ion know if I was ready for a relationship again, but it's been on my mind heavy. I really ain't trying to make the wrong decision, cause I like what we got going right now but I know she bound to hit me with the What Are We card.

Shit, when I started fucking with Robyn I felt the same way but I don't got time to be waiting on somebody, ya know? She clearly wanna be with King Kong, so I ain't even gone try to talk her out of it. She made her decision loud and clear when she decided to go fuck him after she kissed me so I'm done trying. She wanted us to be friends anyways.

I shrugged my thoughts off and started to talk to Kayla.

"You good, gone and get that money. When you free though? I'm gone be busy as hell after this weekend." I sat my phone down and turned on the Bluetooth in my car, because I was tired of holding it. I told y'all I could barely drive and I wasn't about to wreck my precious car trying to hold a conversation on the phone.

"Tonight actually." I could hear the smirk in her voice already.

"You got condoms?" Ion know if I was tripping or not but I think I seen Robyn cover her ears.

"Yes Jaylen, but let me get back to you later. I'll text you when I get home." She laughed before hanging up. I smiled and put my phone back in the cup holder. Shit was going down later.

"What you over there grinning about? Freak." Robyn broke me out of my thoughts. I looked over at her and noticed the disgusted look on her face. Jealous ass.

"You know what I'm grinning about, but anyways.. how you been?" I changed the subject. I ain't like talking to her about Kayla and I's relationship because she was forever saying I was a hoe when I wasn't. Just because you have sexual relations with people from time to time don't mean shit.

"Good before I woke up to this tragic ass news."

"It's aight Rob, don't sweat it. Ima call up some people, and we gone get this shit straightened. Don't even worry about it. I told you that you too pretty to be stressing." I assured her as I patted her thigh as we came to a stop light.

"Jaylen why are you being so nice?" I looked at her sideways. I wasn't even being "nice", I was doing my job. If I fuck wit you I'm gone make sure you straight at all times.

"What you mean? I ain't being nice."

"You weren't like this when we first met." True. Talking to her everyday made me realize a lot of shit though.

"Look, I told you I was gone always have ya back no matter what right? I meant that shit Rob. You work hella hard and put ya blood sweat and tears into yo work, so I don't got a choice but to help."

"Thanks, and I'm sorry." she mumbled before silence filled my car. We all knew what she was sorry for and to be honest, I ain't really wanna talk about it. Shit had me sick for a few hours.

"It's cool, Rob, for real. You hungry?" I asked, forgetting all about my potato that was probably digested in Odell's bitch ass right about now.

"Nah, I'm okay." she shook her head and sighed.

"Fuck he do to you?" I asked, clenching my jaw. She looked up at me and patted my cheek softly.

"For somebody who doesn't give a damn about my relationship, you sure are always on go." She pointed out and I smirked and turned red before looking back at the road.

"I don't give a damn about ya'lls shit. I give a damn about you. Ya'll feuding again?" she shooked her head.

"No, I'm just stressed because I can't put my models in the designs I do have because they're gunna think MY shit is unoriginal." she was known to overthink everything, this was regular Rob times 10.

"Relax. By Monday, this shit gon' be sorted out. I got an ill ass lawyer. You bouta to be paid out the ass." she smiled and my heart skipped a beat. She was literally one of the baddest females I've ever met. Odell wasn't good for a lot but he linked me with her. A nigga had the heart-eyes around her ever since.

"Where are we going?" she asked, looking at her watch and yawning.

"I know you're hungry and my ribs showing so we going to Chipotle until something else comes up."

She shrugged and we started talking about everything. I should always know what I'm getting myself into whenever I initiate a conversation with Rob because she like to get in a nigga mind. It's therapeutic but sometimes, certain wounds don't be healed yet.

"No rice or beans in my damn car, Robyn." I put my fingers in her face and she slapped them away.

"Suck my ass." she mumbled with her mouth full.

"Assume the position." I said with a little bit of seriousness, trying to pick her up. Why she always challenging me like I won't have her on medical leave from her job with this ill ass danger between my legs.

"Stop!" she whined while continuing to eat. "Next question!"

"Aight uh, favorite movie and why?"

"Love Jones. It was romantic from front to back, it had a few bumps but that's what love is. I could watch it over and over." she said and then sipped my Cherry Sprite. She always worried about where my mouth be but her mouth ain't too far behind mine. Always drinking or eating my shit, man.

"Larenz is my nigga and Nia Long could still get this shlong." we both busted out into a laugh. When it died down, she asked hers.

"You ever been in love?" THAT'S the shit I be talking about. Always so fascinated with my soft side. I played with my keys and nodded.

"Twice. They both had other niggas." the car went silent.

"You'll find who you're looking for, Jay."

"Nah, the jig is up. It's too much fuckin' energy. I'ma just have my fun for a night and just perfect my craft. If it's real, I won't have to look, she'll just pop up." Like you did when Odell sent me to pick you up.

She caressed my arm and leaned on my shoulder. "She'll be lucky."

"As fuck. I'm dope. Anyway, favorite artist?" I changed the subject before I leaked how I really felt.

"Rihanna."

"Why?"

"Her name is Robyn and we both bad."

"Yeah, you ain't lyin' about that." I mumbled before my phone starting ringing. Probably Kayla with an answer to them plans.

"Wassup?" I answered.

"I'm free at around like nine."

"Aight, I'ma be there." I mumbled, being brief so I wouldn't kill the mood.

I hung up and looked over at Rob. All this talk about love was making me horny, I knew she wasn't giving up the puss so I gotta get it elsewhere.

"Ready?" I started the car and she nodded.

"Yeah, I should probably get home."

I drove back to her crib and we both got out, headed to our respective doors. "Monday, I'ma fix it. Take a nap and stop stressin'."

Her nigga obviously wasn’t hitting it right since she was always stressing like this. That aint my business though.

Kai

Calling Robyn for the like the 10000th time, her shit still went straight to that damn voicemail. I knew she was pissed off but damn. If she don't answer in the next twenty minutes I'ma have to pull up. Not on no crazy shit, I just don't want us to leave each other not on good terms because tomorrow ain't promised to nobody. I made that mistake before, why would I let it happen again?

The look she had on her face made a nigga feel like the biggest asshole in the world. I don't know why I did that dumb shit, I was just so caught up in the moment.

Kayla had been telling me she could get me a deal that honestly just sounded too good to be true. I mean, she's proven herself every time she said she was gone do something but that particular deal just sounded too fairytale.

I was already financially stable, but with this deal, even the next, next, and next generation of my family gone be straight. I'm talking Filthy rich straight.

Turns out, she actually did what she said she was gone do and we have a meeting tomorrow and all I have to do is sign papers. Right now would be the perfect time to celebrate with my girl but I guess sometimes shit just don't go as planned.

The whole point of me telling her to come over tonight was so I could take her out. I've been tied up with work lately, going out of town and shit so I felt that it was best to take her out. I was missing her like crazy. That's my fucking baby I swear.

I groaned and picked my phone up dialing one more time. It rang for the longest. Call me what you want, I ain't bout to stop chasing after my fine ass girlfriend.

"Kai, what? Stop bothering me." She answered loudly, sucking her teeth. She got shit fucked up if she thought I was bout to let her talk to me like a punk.

"Stop bothering you? My nigga you my fucking girl, fuck outta here with that shit."

"I mean exactly what I said. You was acting like ole girl was God himself so go talk to her." She hung up, slightly pissing me off.

Kayla had walked in, breaking me out of my thoughts. I noticed that her appearance looked like she was about to go on a red carpet. I guess she was about to go see one of her niggas.

"What are you staring at?" Kayla asked with a smirk on her face. I shook my head and snatched my keys from off the coffee table with my shoulder holding my phone up, trying to get Robyn on my line again. Of course, I failed again and came up on her voicemail. Now it was definitely time to pull up, I knew I wasn't gon' catch her in the act or no shit, I just want my girl to know that it's her and only her I'm thinkin' about.

I shot Kayla a text telling her to lock up whenever she was ready to leave for her dick appointment and headed in the direction towards Rob's place. I was putting my engine through hell with how fast I was going, Robyn has been the brightest spot in my life since I met her, life was just started to turn in my favor and I wanted to share everything that I was about to gain with her.

My thoughts became overbearing over the music so I just turned the volume off, not to mention that every song that came on reminded me of Robyn. I sighed and gripped the steering wheel tighter, making a sharp turn on her block, clenching my jaw.

I parked close but not close enough to the point where I'd be noticed, I called her one last time and when I went to hang up because it rang so many damn times, she answered. Light sobs filled my ear.

"Kai, what?" I heard soft music playing in the background and I sighed.

"I'm outside. I just wanna talk, baby." I pleaded.

"Well, I don't want to. Go back home and seal the deal with Kayla."

"Robyn, cut the shit. Be a woman and come talk to me, my nigga. We too grown for this shit." She chuckled darkly.

"I am a woman! Your woman! A stranger wouldn't even be able to tell though, you were all over her right in front of me."

"This phone shit ain't solving nothing. Come outside." she sucked her teeth and ended the call. From a few feet away, I saw her pretty ass coming outside. I smiled and opened my car door to meet her halfway.

On my way upstairs, I heard a familiar fit of giggles from the next door over from Robyn's crib. We both looked up at the same time and while my eyes flashed murder, Robyn's flashed fear and hurt. How in the fuck did Kay get here before me?

We saw the white-skinned tatted nigga dressed up ready to take Kayla out for a night on the town. Kayla was far from my bitch and killing this nigga wouldn't be for her damn honor in no way, but just for my satisfaction.

"Rob, get back in the house."

She started to argue with me but saw the look on my face.

"Wassup, Pussy Beard?" Jaylen screamed from the stairs. I laughed menacingly and made hurried steps towards him. Eager to end his loud-mouth ass for good.

"Kai, don't!" Robyn yelled.

"Nah, let this nigga touch me. I dare his bitch ass."

"Who are you talkin'-" Kayla asked before she saw me.

"Kaiden? Fuck are you doing?"

"You know this nigga?" Jaylen mumbled.

"I hit it first, bitch!" I yelled. Now it was my turn to laugh.

"Not well enough. Both pieces of ya pussy hit my line every night with the 'wyd' text? Take ya wavy ass back to New York where the fuck you belong, dick."

All I could see was red at this point.

#chris brown #chrisbrown #cb #breey #soooraven #obj #odell beckham jr

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artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

A story about love //Chapter 6// (Vatya/Trixya) - Polly

Author’s note: Shout out to Kitty, big thanks and bless our chat! Also massive thank you to Yaskara, just like in general and specifically for the cat names.

So this chapter features emotional turmoil Katya, Courtney Act, the BOTS girls adopting kittens (blame Sharon), Vatya bondage (half assed bondage at best because Katya is an idiot and Violet is weak willed) and a talk that’s long overdue.

Inbox // AO3

Warning: Bondage (light ish)

(NON AU, Violet, Katya, Trixie; she/her; Flashbacks in ••• and past tense)

Summary: ‘Them letting each other back in time and time again, so easily, so foolishly, so alleviated, it scares Katya. It scares Violet too; Katya can see it on her face when her eyes take her in now.’

This is not a love story. This is a story about love.

Katya: Beautiful Goodbye

// I count the ways I let you down On my fingers and toes but I’m running out //

Trixie is perfect. Katya knows it. Katya loves it. Katya hates it.

She knows that Trixie would be worth the effort, that a relationship with her would be perfect, because Trixie fucking cares, fucking wants you to be happy. And Katya gets her, gets the in and outs and up and downs of Trixie Mattel and knows that Trixie gets her too, its what makes them work. Or used to, at least.

She remembers times when she made a joke, nothing unusual, Trixie shouldn’t have known, Katya was a master at hiding, but Trixie had known that had upset her. Because the thing is, Trixie knows, Trixie always knows when there’s something going on with Katya.

She doesn’t ask Katya about it. She takes her hand and she hugs her and she lets her cry and she’s there but she doesn’t force Katya to talk and Katya loves her for that. Because really, that’s what she needs sometimes and Trixie knows.

She thinks that, maybe, Trixie wants to know what’s going on in Katya’s head but that, maybe, she can’t see her upset. And Katya gets that, she really does. She’s too close, almost, to see her hurt. So she doesn’t ask and Katya doesn’t tell.

// When did the rain become a storm?

When did the clouds begin to form? //

She hates putting Violet and Trixie up against each other because it’s not fair. But they’re similar in ways she hadn’t fully realised before. Bitchy, bratty, frankly kind of ridiculously needy in bed, sharp, no bullshit approaches to life, honest, direct, defense mechanisms high up (Trixie has her humour where Violet has her ice queen exterior); but also kind, gentle, caring, smart, beautiful, generous, caring, and able to make Katya happier with just being there. Katya hates herself a little, maybe a lot, because she’s not sure which of them she tried to substitute with the other.

It doesn’t even make sense because there’s also so many striking differences; Violet is hard where Trixie is soft, Trixie is hard where Violet is soft and it kills her because she doesn’t know what’s better or if better is even a word you should use when describing the people you love.

Everyone likes to think the world revolves around them and it does, in a way. When Trixie was there it was all Trixie, Katya was living in Trixie world, her entire attention on her. When Violet was there it was all Violet, Katya was living in Violet world, her entire attention on her.

It was like a fucking fucked up double agent life that was bound to explode into a million burning suns that were destined to hurt everyone that stood to close to Katya. So that’s what happened eventually, it hurt Violet, it hurt Trixie, it burned Katya to a miserable pile of ash waiting to be swept by the low breeze of change. She hates herself a bit more because she’s thinking in weather analogies instead of facing her poor life decisions.

// Yeah, we got knocked off course by a natural force //

But the low breeze of change is not that kind and caring. So instead of time healing all her wounds as quickly as possible, it sends her Courtney Act to make sense of the mess.

Katya hadn’t really left the bed since Trixie had left ten days ago. She keeps refreshing Trixie’s instagram that is filled with colourful costumes, pink lips, bright smiles and golden sun brought to you directly by the ProvinceTown shows of your dreams starring Trixie fucking Mattel looking tan and carefree and happy when Katya knows that can’t actually be the case. Probably.

So that’s how Courtney finds her: unshowered, maybe slightly underfed because really living off of dried fruit and cigarettes does no one’s body good, tired, defeated, and her heart lost in the wallowing sea of pain and longing somewhere between Violet Chachki and Trixie Mattel.

But Courtney is Courtney and she hugs Katya for ten minutes even though Katya smells bad, she forces her into the shower, she buys food while Katya lets water mix in with despair and tears and she knows she’s a bit dramatic at this point but it’s all a goddamn travesty so it can’t be helped. Courtney cooks food for both of them and it’s pretty decent for being vegan, Katya cries more about Trixie and keeps quiet about Violet, Courtney nods along.

She doesn’t look surprised by anything Katya says about the break up, that maybe it was never right and that she misses her best friend and that Trixie deserves someone who’s perfect for her and that that would’ve never been Katya and that neither really paid attention to that even when they should’ve known. Katya thinks that Violet had known that better than Trixie and Katya did, thinks that Courtney did too and wonders what it is about losing all rationality when you’re in the situation yourself.

Courtney nods along some more and smiles in empathy and listens and does Katya’s dishes and Katya is pretty sure that Courtney talked to Trixie before she talked to Katya.

// And let them go, let them fly Holding back won’t turn back time Believe me, I’ve tried //

She lets go off hoping on Trixie because there’s no way to pretend they could be fine any time soon. But they will be, one day. Maybe. Hopefully.

Because Katya doesn’t think she wants to live the rest of her life without Trixie in it. It hurts and she knows it will hurt for a long time but she’s done pretending. She knows Trixie needs her time away from Katya, to figure everything out, to figure herself out and deep down Katya knows she needs that time too. Because the truth is, maybe they were a bit dependent on each other because now Trixie is gone and Katya has lost who she is, in a way. They need time off of each other but Katya hopes, knows, that, maybe, eventually, one day, they can be friends again.

Maybe this is her time to believe in fate. Maybe she can let that be the thing she learns from Trixie. That what should be will be, maybe not in the way you expect it but what should happens will happen. Maybe you need to make it happen but Trixie believes that everything will always be alright at the end.

// Beautiful goodbye

It’s dripping from your eyes

Your beautiful goodbye //

Trixie believes in love as the core of everything. Katya thinks, maybe, after all, there’s some truth to it.

Because she doesn’t call Trixie. She won’t for a while. Because she loves her and because she knows it’s for the best, at least for now, to give her space. She knows that it’s love that makes her let Trixie go.

// All the pain you try to hide //

She wants to let go of Violet too, in a way, to give her space too but she can’t. Maybe it’s because she can’t lose them both or it’s because Violet feels like home to her and she never fully gave up on that.

There’s a part of her that stayed in their New York summer, that stayed there when she left. She can’t fully let go because, maybe, it felt like everything. And she tried to hide the pain that came with hiding for so long and it didn’t work, her emotions are catching up with her and she knows that she needs to talk to Violet.

Courtney says she needs to run errands and that Katya should come with because she needs to leave the house again eventually. Courtney drives as if she’s slightly manic and Katya fears for her life while Courtney happily talks about the show she did with Adore recently. They drive until they’re at the outskirts of town and Katya leaves the car, looking around surprised.

“We’re at Michelle’s place?”

“Yeah.” Courtney smiles at her while closing the the car and pulling a key out. “She’s not here.” She unlocks the door and three cats swarm Katya’s feet. “Surprise!” Courtney says. “I’m feeding them while Michelle is on vacation.”

“Oh,” Katya murmurs before taking her shoes off and taking the cats in. “They got so big.”

“I know,” Courtney says while making her way to the living room and sitting on the carpet cross legged.

“Aren’t you going to feed them?”

“I was here before I drove to your place but I thought I’d take you here. I thought that might cheer you up.”

Katya sits down next to Courtney while the cats bump their heads against her legs. Katya lets her fingers run through the soft fur of the black one and does indeed feel comforted, if by the memories or the cats themselves, she doesn’t know. “Thank you.”

Courtney nods at her with a smile. “Remember when Sharon found them? And Alaska and Michelle were all like ‘We have to take them to animal rescue?’” Courtney laughs quietly.

Katya joins in for a moment. The scene playing out in her head: Sharon Needles emerging from the dark, cold night, holding five dirty, abandoned, underfed kittens and demanding that they would be the tour cats while Michelle, Alaska and eventually Jinkx tried to talk sense into her. Unsuccessfully, obviously. Instead they had taken them to the doctors and had taken care of them in a too small tour bus during the last week of tour. Two of the cats lived with Sharon while the other three were running in circles around Courtney and Katya now.

“Remember when you and Adore were too busy to properly name your cat and ended up with calling her Baby?”

Courtney picks Baby up now and strokes through her fur while grinning at Katya. “Should’ve named her Bianca, honestly. With those panda eyes.”

Katya shakes her head with a grin. “I still don’t get why Alaska, Jinkx and Sharon got to name one cat each all alone while you and Adore and me and Vi had to share naming responsibilities.”

“Early season privilege.” Courtney mimics Sharon with a grin.

“And Alaska wasted a perfectly good opportunity and named hers Alley Cat,” Katya says, trying to sound genuinely offended while looking at Alley Cat biting into Courtney’s toe.

“It’s a pun. Because it’s like the name Allie but also it’s a cat that Sharon found in an alley,” Courtney grins dumbly and rolls her eyes.

“It’s dumb is what it is.”

“Judging from the fact that you and Violet ended up with the name Leonardo DiCatprio I’d guess that you won that one though,” Courtney grins.

“We about fell out girl,” Katya says, remembering the almost fight her and Violet had gotten in over naming a fucking kitten and smiles at the ridiculousness. “I think in the end she accepted my creative genius.”

“Or gave up.”

“Or gave up,” Katya echoes with a grin. Courtney doesn’t say anything and Katya looks up from where she had let her hand run through Leonardo DiCatprio’s black fur.

“Did you know that Violet comes here every time she’s in LA? Like comes here straight from the airport to visit the cats?” Courtney says nonchalantly while keeping her eyes focused on her fingers in Baby’s fur.

“She does?”

Courtney looks at Katya and nods. Katya can feel Courtney’s intense stare on her when she lets her eyes follow Leonardo DiCatprio and Alley Cat who are play fighting on the rug before Katya’s feet now.

It’s the exact information you don’t need when you’re trying to kind of get over someone, a reminder of why you fell in love with them.

It’s stupid. It doesn’t make sense for Violet to be this… soft.

But there’s those glances, those contradictions that kept Katya hooked.

Violet likes to pretend that nothing can touch her, Katya knows differently and she loves her for that.

Violet, when performing in the damn finale for Drag Race season 7, had worn her very first burlesque costume. It was so uncharacteristically sentimental it had made Katya do a double take.

One of the few times Katya and Violet had been dumb enough to actually hook up on tour, they hadn’t even gotten that far because Adore and Courtney had called, drunk and melodramatic, but Violet had left immediately to take care of them.

Violet, with an eyeroll but no protest at 3 a.m., listening to Katya talk about everything and nothing.

Violet who says she doesn’t smile in photos because she looks stupid with crinkly eyes.

Violet who comes to Michelle’s house every time she gets the chance to play with cats.

It breaks Katya’s heart because she longs for her. And she doesn’t want to fuck it up again. Doesn’t want to hurt Violet. Doesn’t want to hurt Trixie. But she did and she hates herself for it.

“I saw her three days ago,” Courtney says now and Katya looks up.

“Violet?”

“Yeah.” There’s silence for a moment. “You should talk to her.” And just like that Katya knows that Trixie had told her everything. She’s okay with that she thinks because she’s definitely not in the mood to talk about it herself, at least not with Courtney, maybe with Violet though.

“I know. I will.”

// And now I’m kissing your tears goodnight //

••• Katya looked after Trixie for a moment before fixating back on Violet who appeared like she was about to go into hysterics and closed the door.

With Violet’s hand in her own she maneuvered both of them to the couch, worried, abut pretty certain what this was about.

“What happened?“

Instead of answering Violet started to cry and Katya’s heart couldn’t take it.

“Vi.“ She pulled Violet against herself and felt wet trails of tears on her neck.

They sat like that for a while, Katya stroking over Violets back, Violet clutching onto Katya, occasional sobs leaving her lips until she began to calm down. •

// And I can’t take it, you’re even perfect when you cry //

• Violet leaned back and Katya was fascinated by her.

The intensity Violet did everything with was both a mystery and a hazard.

She was like a fucking thunderstorm on a beach at night; dark, mysterious, a force of nature.

Beautiful in a way you wouldn’t expect her to be; steady waves crashing onto cliffs and soft tears on pale skin.

“What happened?“ Katya asked again, her thumb rubbing over the back of Violet’s hand.

The sharp inhale of Violet’s breath filled the room for a moment and Katya was worried she was going to cry again, worried that she couldn’t take her strong Violet crying again, worried that Violet was in pain.

Violet sniffed. “I didn’t get the job.“

Katya nodded, she had expected this, given Violet’s current state.

Unlucky at cards, lucky in love, Katya thinks. She didn’t say it, of course she didn’t. Violet would probably smack her in the face.

“Did Fame get it instead?“

Violet sniffed again, tears collecting in her eyes. “No! She didn’t. They gave it to some dumb french whore that’s like fucking 19 years old with a great ass.“ Violet paused and looked at Katya with a surprising intensity for a moment. “I have a great ass.“

Katya couldn’t help the snort that came out and her heart fluttered a bit at the small smile that was playing at the corner of Violet’s lips now. Katya tried to mimic Violet’s intense look and spoke, matter of factly, dead pan voice, serious gaze. “You do! You do have a great ass. It should be on the cover all the magazines.“

Obnoxious, loud Violet-laughter filled the apartment for a moment and Katya smiled at her, the world so much more beautiful when Violet laughed.

Violet looked at her thankfully for a moment before letting out a sigh, more dramatic than upset now, really. “Am I becoming old and irrelevant and ugly now?“ she paused and stared at Katya. “Am I becoming you?“

“Bitch!“ Katya hit her in the face with a pillow, Violet laughed.

There was comfortable silence for a moment. Comfortable silence and Violet’s hand in hers.

“It just sucks,“ Violet sounded calmer now, calmer and heartbroken. “I had like ideas and shit.“

“I know,“ Katya said, not sure what else there was to say. She leaned back against the couch, pulling Violet with her, her body in between Katya’s legs, arms around each other, Violet’s head resting on Katya’s chest right over her heart, probably hearing the steady beating. “I know, love.“

Violet didn’t react to the pet name and Katya was glad. She felt Violet’s hand that had somehow found its way under Katya’s shirt rubbing slow circles there and smiled. They just lay there like that for a while, taking the city noises and each other in without saying anything.

She placed a fast kiss on Violet’s temple and stroked some hair back. “I vote chocolate cake. Or sex“

Violet smiled up at her. “Why not both?“

“I like your thinking, Miss Chachki.”

Violet let out a laugh and Katya looked at her, truly a thunderstorm at a beach at night sometimes and thought that thunderstorms and nights didn’t stay forever and besides, a beach during sunlight was more beautiful anyway.

// And I remember your eyes were so bright //

••• There was an excited glint in Violet’s eyes when she finished closing the cuff around Katya’s left ankle, Katya’s legs still in the thigh highs, the rest of her naked. Naked except for wig and high class whore boots she had been wearing since performing a few hours ago.

Violet was similarly serving looks; a red short wig with bangs, pasties still on her nipples, the garter belt and stockings on, no panties, her and Katya’s red lipsticks all around her mouth, looking like some kind of manic love child of the Joker and a 50’s underwear model and well, kind of really hot.

Violet leaned down and pecked Katya on her mouth before straddling her. She smirked and dug her fingernails into Katya’s skin, scratching over her chest, causing Katya to hiss at the pain and judging from Violet’s face there were more marks to be left on Katya’s body tonight. Katya tried to figure out why that appealed to her.

Violet leaned down and licked over Katya’s neck before moving her mouth to her ear. “You need a safe word.“

”What?” Where was Violet going to take this?

“I doubt you’ll use it but you need one.” Violet paused her tongue’s journey over Katya’s neck and leaned back to lock eyes with her. “You look panicked, are you panicked? We can stop.“

Katya tried to form a coherent thought. She wasn’t panicked just a bit… surprised? “Uh… no.”

They looked at each other for a moment, well really more Violet looking at Katya calculatingly while Katya looked at Violet’s body and was genuinely sad that she couldn’t touch her now.

Violet raised her eyebrows and smirked at her while letting her hands travel over Katya’s chest, no scratching this time, before leaning down and kissing her hungrily and Katya really wanted to discard Violet’s wig and bury her hands in her hair, to pull at it a little and she wasn’t sure if she was actually going to enjoy being tied up.

“Purple Rain,“ she said before biting down on Violet’s bottom lip aggressively.

Violet’s head jerked back while her hand moved to her lip. “What?“

“That’s my safe word. Purple rain. Get it? Cause its like the song and because you’re Violet.” Katya broke out into laughter while Violet looked back at her, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Mhm, smart,” Violet said in a deadpan voice.

“Thanks, I thought so too,” Katya answered, trying to mimic Violet’s tone.

Violet snorted lightly and moved her fingers to pinch Katya in the nipple hard. "Bitch,” she laughed with Katya joining in. Violet sighed softly. “Fine, whatever.“

She pecked Katya on the lips again before getting up to go to her drawers, opening one that Katya knew contained various kinds of toys, and began to search for something.

“Well, isn’t that fun just chilling here, all tied up and waiting for my mistress or whatever to fuck herself on me,“ Katya said, admittedly purely to annoy Violet who let out an angry breath while lightly shaking her head. Katya dropped her head back against the pillow with a smirk.

“Sometimes silence can just be silence, you know?“ Violet’s voice sounded annoyed and Katya was satisfied.

She stayed quiet for a moment, trying obedience. Probably.

She stared at Violet’s ass, at the garter belt, the stockings while Violet continued to search for something in her sex drawer and grew impatient.

“Speaking of silence,“ Katya started and Violet groaned. "The movie title ‘Silence of the Lambs’ technically makes very little sense. Have you ever been close to sheep? I have! And they’re not silent at all,“ Katya said with a smirk while watching Violet slightly shaking her head and turning it to look at Katya over her shoulder.

“You’re literally the worst person ever to do this with.“ Violet took her wig off and opened her bun, her dark hair cascading down her naked back now, contrasting with the pale skin.

“Well, I’m also the only person who’s here so whatcha gonna do, babe?“ Katya smirked and watched as Violet finally closed the drawer again.

"I hate you so fucking much,“ Violet said with a smile before getting up and walking back to Katya.

"The bulge in your Dita von Teese panties suggests otherwise.” Katya did her, arguably horrible, RuPaul impersonation while Violet looked at her somewhere between amused and annoyed.

“I’m not even wearing underwear, you whore. Also, ever heard of hate fucking?”

“Ever heard of fucking a giraffe? Cause that’s what sex with you feels like.”

Violet looked at Katya with wide eyes for a moment before letting out a small chuckle. “What the actual fuck, Kat?“

Violet sat next to Katya on the bed again and Katya properly looked at the items in Violet’s hands. A ball gag and a smooth looking piece of fabric and she felt slightly shaken now. Being tied up was basically taking all her power already and adding not seeing and speaking to that?

Violet paused her trying to get a knot out of the blindfold and raised her eyebrows at Katya. “Are you really sure you’re okay with this?“

Katya was pretty sure; the proposition of Violet ‘taking care of her’ did sound too delicious to pass up. She was just nervous but seeing Violet smile at her so warmly, so understandingly, it made it more comfortable. “Yeah, it’s fine. Sorry for talking the entire time.“

Violet held the ball gag up in her hand and Katya nodded.

“It’s okay. I get it,“ Violet said while positioning the ball gag in Katya’s mouth and closing it at the back of her neck.

“You keep talking because you would feel too vulnerable otherwise.“ Violet smirked at her and her voice sounded stronger, more dominant somehow and Katya did feel a bit too vulnerable now. Violet seemed to sense Katya’s discomfort and kissed her cheek softly.

Her hand slowly stroked over Katya’s chest. “You’re okay?“ she asked, dropping character again, her lips still lingering over Katya’s cheek.

Violet’s skin on her own, the movement of her fingers so tender and her voice so soft sent a wave of affection through Katya’s body.

She looked up to Violet; her Violet, hair messy and sweaty now that it was freed from her wig, the exaggerated fake eyelashes gone, both their red lipsticks messily covering half her face and a fond smile on her face and Katya needed her.

She had never been one to shy away from new experiences and there was part of her that was weirdly allured by the prospect of getting to see a more dominant Violet, of giving herself to her fully. She nodded.

“Okay,“ Violet said before pressing another fast kiss on Katya’s cheek, right next to her ear. “The ball gag is fine?“ Katya nodded again, if she was going to do this, she wasn’t going to do it halfway.

“Right.“ Violet looked at Katya for a moment as if gauging at any sign of discomfort Katya’s body could show. She spoke again, still a gentle tone. “So the safe word doesn’t really work anymore,“ Violet smiled. She moved her hand to stroke over Katya’s wrist, resting it right under the handcuff. “Can you snip?“ Katya snipped loudly.

“Good. Do that if anything makes you uncomfortable. I don’t expect that to happen, I’m not going to do anything unusual but just in case.“ Violet shrugged her shoulders and Katya felt a lot more comfortable now. “I’m also going to watch your body very closely.“ Violet paused, a smirk on her face. “Because I want to,“ she winked while her finger danced around Katya’s lower abdomen and was dangerously close to her hardening dick.

“Well and to look out for any signs of you being uncomfortable too. But…“ she smiled and let the sentence hang in the air while looking at Katya’s naked body hungrily. “The thigh-highs are really it,“ she said and the familiar tone of desire in her voice certainly did things to Katya.

Violet smiled at Katya softly again before pressing a kiss onto her chest. And Katya appreciated Violet explaining everything, she really did, but she would also appreciate Violet sucking her dick about now.

As if she had noticed Katya’s shift in mood again, Violet grinned. “Well,“ she said while picking up the blindfold and moving her hands behind Katya’s head, tying it there. “Here goes.“

The silk was soft against Katya’s skin and was successful in robbing Katya of her vision. There she was, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to see and fully at Violet Chachki’s mercy and it was just a little bit thrilling.

She felt the bed move and the material of Violet’s stockings rubbing on her naked skin and assumed that Violet had moved to somewhat kneel next to her.

“I know you, Katya.“ Violet’s breath hit the side of Katya’s neck, a warm, soft stream of air, mixing in with Violet’s voice, smooth and controlled, and Katya felt a stirring in her lower abdomen.

“You don’t like to give up control.“ Her tongue on Katya’s collarbone. Her hand digging into Katya’s hip.

“You’re afraid to give yourself to the moment.“ Violet’s lips on her chest while she spoke, causing shivers to travel through Katya’s body.

“I want you to give yourself to the moment.“ Her tongue circling Katya’s nipple.

“Fully.“ Her teeth digging into Katya’s skin.

“Shamelessly.“ Her mouth wandering over Katya’s stomach, surely leaving a trail of red lipstick everywhere.

“Indefinitely.“ A kiss on Katya’s lower abdomen, inches from her hard dick and Katya couldn’t breathe.

“How does that sound?“ Violet’s face was next to hers again, her teeth biting Katya’s earlobe softly, her hand digging into Katya’s chest. Katya nodded weakly and for once was thankful for the blindfold and not having to look at Violet’s self satisfied face; besides she could feel the smile on Violet’s lips on her neck anyway.

“Are you going to be good for me now?“ Violet’s voice was low and controlled and her index finger was softly stroking over the side of Katya’s neck. Katya nodded again.

“Good.“

Only feeling Violet’s movements was an interesting sensation and Katya understood why Violet had also gotten the blindfold. Everything felt more intense, the soft material of the handcuffs on her wrists, Violet’s hand on her hip, her other at her jaw, softly tilting Katya’s head, she could hear Violet’s breathing for a moment, Violet’s soft lips on the side of her neck, sucking at the skin there for a while, leaving a mark, circling it with her tongue, could hear the need, the possessiveness in Violet’s voice. "To show the world who owns you.“

It was insane, absolutely ridiculous, and Katya was thankful for the ball gag stopping her from speaking because surely her voice would be filled with pathetic need, words she maybe meant a bit too much, leaving her lips. She would be Violet’s. Wanted to be Violet’s. Wanted Violet to be hers. Fully, shamelessly, indefinitely.

Violet placed a soft kiss on Katya’s jaw before leaning back, the ends of her hair tickling Katya’s skin.

Violet straddled her and dug her fingernails into Katya’s chest roughly, painfully, and when she spoke again Katya could hear the smirk in her voice.

“I’m in charge now, slut.“

Lips on her nipple, sucking on it roughly, biting, while Violet’s fingertips lightly danced over her lower abdomen and Katya could barely breathe. Maybe it was the ball gag or maybe the fact that she had never felt this defenseless, exposed but liberated in a sexual setting.

She gave in, Violet’s touch on her, her voice in her ear, all lines were crossed, all trust was given, she let herself fall, lost herself in Violet. It was something Katya had been waiting for, maybe, experiencing the beauty of feeling possessed.

“You’re being so good, Kat.” Violet kissed Katya’s stomach softly, just over her dick. ”You’re being so good for me.” Violet’s fingers were around her dick, rolling the condom on slowly and Katya was thankful for the ball gag allowing her to bite onto it so hard it hurt a bit.

The gentle tickle of Violet’s hair on her chest again. “I want you. I want you so fucking much, Kat.” Violet’s hand cupped Katya’s face lightly and the contradiction of the sweet touch and Violet’s raspy voice set her body on fire.

Violet always felt good around her but this was different, this was Violet controlling every move, the pace, the speed, the rhythm and Katya would let Violet do just about anything to her.

It was surrender, capitulation to Violet’s every touch and Katya was fully giving up; was giving up on fighting for control now, was giving up on fighting her feelings for Violet when she so obviously could never stay away, was giving up keeping her walls up, was giving herself to her.

She thought that maybe Violet could tell, her voice, filled with quiet moans, next to Katya’s ear. “You’re so beautiful when you’re not thinking so much.”

Violet’s hands were on the back of her neck, opening the ball gag, taking it out off Katya’s mouth, pressing a fast peck onto her lips before digging her fingers harshly in Katya’s chest again.

“I thought the point was so that I wouldn’t talk for once,” Katya said in between moans as soon as Violet’s lips left hers.

Violet let out a quiet giggle and Katya wished she could see her now, see her and touch her and show her just how much she appreciated this, loved this, needed her, wanted this.

The feeling of hair tickling her chest again, Violet’s hand cupping Katya’s jaw. “Kind of, but I miss hearing you. You’re close-” she moved her hips up and down a few times and Katya couldn’t suppress the desperate moans and really wished she could see Violet riding her. “-and I need to hear you, babe.”

Violet moved around her with harsh, fast movements now and Katya was sure she was touching herself, her low moans mixing in with Katya’s own.

“Fuck, Vi,” she moaned before coming hard. Violet moved around her for a moment longer before Katya could feel Violet’s body shaking slightly and hearing those moans she had grown so accustomed too, she had a pretty good idea how Violet’s face looked now but she wished she could see her.

Violet moved off her and disposed the condom before Katya could feel fumbling on her ankles and then her wrists. She didn’t move once she was freed, bathing in the sensation for a moment longer, and felt Violet strip her off her thigh highs, the blindfold and remove her wig carefully.

Katya turned her head and watched as Violet stripped out of the garter belt and slowly rolled her stockings of her legs, sending a wink to Katya, before laying down next to her, both of them just looking at each other for a moment.

“This was amazing, Vi. You’re amazing.” Katya sounded like an idiot but it couldn’t be helped.

“Dito.” Well at least they both sounded like idiots.

Violet smiled at her and let out a small giggle, Katya watching on helplessly as Violet threw her head back and her eyes crinkled, ‘I love you’, she thought. •

// So in love that night //

• It’s what she had known at the back of her mind for the longest time, really, that one day Violet would steal her heart, it’s what she had tried to avoid. She didn’t want to deal with the fear that came with loving Violet.

She finally moved and leaned over Violet instead.

The giggles died down and Violet locked eyes with Katya for a moment before smiling at her again while letting her thumb run over Katya’s bottom lip, surely no lipstick left on it anymore.

Car honking, chattering and general New York noises filled the room, Violet had opened a window before stripping out of the last of her clothes, and Katya felt the energy of the city in the room but wanted nothing more but to stay in the quiet of Violet’s bedroom.

She marvelled at the epiphany that she loved Violet for a moment before kissing her. She put it all in the kiss; ‘I trust you’, ‘I’m happier when you’re around’, ‘I miss you when you’re gone’, ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m scared’. She couldn’t say it, not yet, not now, but she really hoped that Violet would know. •••

// And I remember your eyes were so bright //

Katya drives to Violet’s apartment after Courtney drops her home and after she takes another quick shower because there’s cat fur everywhere and then leaves immediately. She feels as if this conversation can’t wait any longer now.

“Katya. What…What are you- Why are you… What?” Violet says when she eventually does open the door. She looks tired and Katya wonders if she had already been asleep and feels a bit bad. But Violet being sleepy right now helps her a bit because at least she’s not screaming at her.

“We need to talk.” There must be something in her voice because Violet stares back at her for a moment, hair wild, T-shirt crinkled, her legs barely covered by the shorts she is wearing, and steps away from the door to let Katya in.

Katya can tell that Violet lets her in against her better judgement when she steps away from the door. She looks at Katya, her eyes soft but wary. Violet probably wants this all to be over with, wants to save herself from further hurt and Katya gets it. Violet is rational, they both are.

But Violet also opened the door for Katya and let her in, like Katya let’s Violet back in.

Them letting each other back in time and time again, so easily, so foolishly, so alleviated, it scares Katya. It scares Violet too; Katya can see it on her face when her eyes take her in now.

“Trixie and I broke up. Trixie broke up with me.” They’re still in Violet’s hall and Violet crosses her arms over her chest.

“I know. Courtney told me.” Violet looks at her calculatedly for a moment. “Why?”

Katya lets out a shaky sigh. “Can we sit?”

Violet sighs as well and lets her hand run through her hair in a way that Katya knows means she’s nervous. “Okay.” She leads them to sit on the couch.

Katya stares at the magazines on the coffee table for a moment, at Violet’s laptop, the empty wine glass and takes a deep breath.

“Trixie and I broke up because it wasn’t right. It never was right as a relationship. And we should’ve know and I’m sorry.”

“Okay?” Violet sounds wary now and Katya isn’t sure what to make out of it and she’s not sure if it was fair to just spring this talk onto her but it’s what’s happening now.

“I need to tell you something and it’s important and I need to say it and… I… and you can’t interrupt me, okay?”

Violet looks back at her with raised eyebrows and Katya hopes that she is at least curious enough to hear her out. “Okay.”

Katya couldn’t tell her what she had felt last year.

Couldn’t tell her that the reason she asked Violet to stay the night even when Katya was busy wasn’t to fuck her but because Katya felt better when Violet was there, lighter and grounded at the same time somehow.

Couldn’t tell her that she liked having her next to her at night, hearing Violet’s voice last thing before she fell asleep. Couldn’t tell her that her heart ached when Violet was upset as if it was her own pain. Couldn’t tell her that Violet looking so conflicted when telling her about how she admired Katya for being so easy to like was one of Katya’s most treasured memories; because she let her walls down, because she let Katya in, let Katya see her heart. Couldn’t tell her how she missed Violet the minute the taxi drove off. Couldn’t tell her she loved her then.

Couldn’t tell her she loved her when the morning sun was dipping her in golden light and her lips tasted like mint, her movements unsure but like she had a goal in mind. Couldn’t tell her she loved her when Violet brought home Katya’s favourite food after a bad day. Couldn’t tell her she loved her when she let out a sigh, moved closer, resting her head on Katya’s shoulder, her breath on Katya’s neck and talked to Katya all night, a smile playing around her lips even though Katya had woken her up at 3 a.m. Couldn’t tell her she loved her when she was kissing Katya, a warm September day, only hours away from a flight from New York to Los Angeles Katya would be on. Couldn’t tell her she loved when she was standing on the sidewalk next to a taxi Katya was in, staying there while the car drove away, looking after Katya when Katya had expected her to walk back in straight away.

And Katya wants to tell her everything. Everything she never said last year, wants to tell her how she remembers all the moments from last summer. Wants to tell how she thinks that she thinks that she, maybe, will never be able to fully leave that summer because it was… everything.

If there was a way to turn back time, she would. She would tell Violet how she’s the only person who ever got to hear Katya’s middle of the night doubts, how she’s the only one Katya was that vulnerable for, how for Violet’s eyes only, Katya had bared her heart.

It was almost as if she had had no choice other than let her defenses down, as if her body had taken her heart and her feelings and her everything and had just given it to Violet; ‘this is all I can give you, for when the world is a bit too much, you will at least have this, will have me, if you want.’

The all too familiar urge to leave, to make a joke, to downplay it overcomes her. But she can’t. They need to talk about it, for closure, for a beginning, for an ending, for what it’s worth.

She could name 100 things she likes about Violet and wouldn’t even have started; way too many adjectives and bad comparisons and it would still not be good enough.

It could never be enough because it’s stupid, because love is stupid and Katya is scared and defenseless and she says it anyway, says it all.

“I like you. I just like everything about you.” Violet’s expression is unreadable but Katya keeps her eyes locked with her anyway.

“The way you dance on stage and I like how it’s way different from the way you move normally. And the way you talk, even when it’s a bit bitchy at times, and I like the way you walk and hate it when you walk away and I know that sounds dumb.” A small smile creeps into the corner of Violet’s mouth for only a second but it’s enough to make Katya’s heart light. She can’t bear the eye contact once the smile is gone again. She stares at Violet’s hands instead.

“I like your hands. I like the way you don’t think you’re they’re pretty, how you think they’re mismatched to the rest of your body because it’s stupid,” Violet laughs a little but it sounds weird, careful almost.

“And I like that you laugh about jokes that you didn’t understand just because I started them. And I love the way you care and how you’re kind and gentle and I hope you understand that I’m not good at this but I hope that you know.“

Katya looks up Violet looks at her and she looks scared and Katya isn’t sure, maybe she’s crying a bit.

// And I can’t take it, you’re even perfect when you cry //

“I…,“ Violet starts, voice trembling. “I don’t know what to say.“ But she takes Katya’s hand between both of her own and Katya loves her a little more.

"I loved you,” Katya says and Violet’s eyes widen and then Katya surprises herself because she continues talking. Continues even though her voice is breaking and her hands are shaking and she can’t look Violet in the eyes. Violet’s hands are warm and safe around her own. “I love you.”

Violet takes in a sharp inhale of breath and Katya looks at her to meet her gaze.

// And I remember your eyes were so bright When I first met you, how in love were we that night? //

#vatya #trixya #angst #fluff #smut #a story about love #polly #katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #violet chachki #rpdr fanfiction #canon compliant

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nothingman · 7 years

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South Park turns 20 years old this summer, meaning that if those foulmouthed, crudely fashioned 8-year-olds that were first introduced on August 13, 1997 followed the rules of linear time, they’d all be adults farting down the barrel of 30. Similarly, there’s now an entire generation of people—spanning high-schoolers to middle-aged people who remember watching its early seasons in college, and who can’t believe they’re reading/writing 20-year retrospectives on it now—who were actually raised on South Park.

The show celebrated this existential crisis-inducing fact last year with a tongue-in-cheek ad, depicting South Park as a sort of benevolent guarantor keeping reliable watch over a girl from infancy until her first trip to college. It was a typically self-effacing joke, but it’s true: Our world is now filled with people for whom South Park has always been there, a cultural influence that, in some cases, is completely foundational to their point of view. The ad doesn’t end with the girl logging onto Twitter to complain that social justice warriors are ruining the world, but otherwise, spot on.

After all, for most of its 20 years, South Park’s own point of view has more or less been this: “Everything and everyone are full of shit—hey, relax, guy.” It’s a scorched-earth, deconstructionist approach steeped in equal-opportunity offensiveness that’s made South Park one of the funniest satires ever produced, and particularly potent in the time in which it debuted. “When we started, [it was] Beavis And Butt-Head, and us, and in some ways The Simpsons, and Married With Children—shit like that,” Matt Stone told Vanity Fair last year, putting the Comedy Central cartoon in the company of other ’90s series that diverged from the “bland… shitty sitcoms that were just so lifeless” Stone and co-creator Trey Parker were reacting against. But South Park has now lived long enough to see the experimental become the conventional. And it’s outlasted all but one of those series not just by subverting formulaic TV, but by feeding directly off current events. As a result, for many of those raised by South Park, the show has functioned as sort of a scatological op-ed—in some cases, maybe the only op-ed they’ve ever been interested in.

To these acolytes, Parker and Stone have spent two decades preaching a philosophy of pragmatic self-reliance, a distrust of elitism, in all its compartmentalized forms, and a virulent dislike of anything that smacks of dogma, be it organized religion, the way society polices itself, or whatever George Clooney is on his high horse about. Theirs can be a tricky ideology to pin down: “I hate conservatives, but I really fucking hate liberals,” Stone said once, a quote that has reverberated across the scores of articles, books, and message-board forums spent trying to parse the duo’s politics, arguing over which side can rightfully claim South Park as its own. Nominally, Parker and Stone are libertarians, professing a straight-down-the-middle empathy for the little guy who just wants to be left alone by meddling political and cultural forces. But their only true allegiance is to whatever is funniest; their only tenet is that everything and everyone has the potential to suck equally. More than anything, they’ve taught their most devoted followers that taking anything too seriously is hella lame.

So while they’ve advocated, in their own fucked-up way, for stuff like the right to abortion, drug legalization, and general tolerance for others, they’ve also found their biggest, easiest targets in liberalism’s pet causes, those formerly rebellious ideals that had become safely sitcom-bland over the Bill Clinton years—all of which were steeped in actually, lamely caring about stuff. Taking the piss out of the era’s priggish, speech-policing, Earth Day-brainwashed hippies was the most transgressive—and therefore funniest—thing you could possibly do. And so, South Park joked, global warming is just a dumb myth perpetrated by “super cereal” losers. Prius drivers are smug douches who love the smell of their own farts. Vegetarians end up growing vaginas on their face. “Transgender people” are just mixed-up, surgical abominations. The word “fag” is fine. Casual anti-Semitism is all in good fun. “Hate crimes” are silly. Maybe all you pussies just need a safe space.

“Did South Park accidentally invent the alt-right?” Janan Ganesh asked recently in the Financial Times, articulating a theory that began gaining traction as an entire political movement seemed to crystallize around the show’s “anti-PC chic” and general fuck-your-feelings attitude. Way back in 2001, political blogger Andrew Sullivan had already coined the term “South Park Republican” to describe the supposedly emerging group of young people who, like the show, were moderate on social issues like abortion and gay marriage, but also rejected the stuffy doctrines of diversity and environmentalism. They also believed, as Parker and Stone would soon illustrate in Team America: World Police, that the world needed American dicks to fuck assholes, over the objections of liberal pussies and F.A.G. celebrities. That voting bloc never actually materialized—though to be fair, the show was only four years old at the time. It would take at least another decade of people with Cartman avatars just joshin’ about hating Jews before the South Park generation would truly come of age.

Let’s be real, though. South Park didn’t “invent” the “alt-right,” even accidentally. The “alt-right” is the product of lots of things—disenfranchisement; internet echo chambers; aggrieved Gamergaters; boredom; the same ugly, latent racism that’s coursed beneath civilization’s veneer for millennia; etc. The growing, bipartisan distaste for Wall Street-backed career politicians and the epically bungled machinations of the Democratic Party certainly didn’t help, nor did the frustrating inability of the social justice movement to pick its battles—or its enemies. Furthermore, it’s always dangerous to assign too much influence to pop culture, even something that’s been part of our lives for this long. And as South Park itself derided in “The Tale Of Scrotie McBoogerballs,” you shouldn’t go looking for deep sociopolitical messages in your cartoon dick jokes. (Then again, only three years earlier, it also argued that imaginary characters really can change people’s lives and even “change the way [you] act on Earth,” making them “more realer” than any of us—so you decide.)

Still, it’s not that much of a stretch to see how one might have fed the other, if only through the sort of intangible osmosis that happens whenever an influential artwork spawns imitators, both on screen and off. South Park may not have “invented” the “alt-right,” but at their roots are the same bored, irritated distaste for politically correct wokeness, the same impish thrill at saying the things you’re not supposed to say, the same button-pushing racism and sexism, now scrubbed of all irony.

There’s also the same co-opting of anti-liberal stances as the highest possible form of rebellion: Parker and Stone used to brag that they were “punk rock” for telling their Hollywood friends how much they loved George W. Bush; Parker even told Rolling Stone in 2007, “The only way to be more hardcore than everyone else is to tell the people who think they’re the most hardcore that they’re pussies, to go up to a tattooed, pierced vegan and say, ‘Whatever, you tattooed faggot, you’re a pierced faggot and whatever’”—a quote that may as well have been taken from 4chan’s /pol/ board this morning. “Conservatism is the new punk rock,” echoed a bunch of human cringes a decade later. Whatever, you faggot, a dozen Pepes tweeted a few seconds ago.

But well beyond the “alt-right,” South Park’s influence echoes through every modern manifestation of the kind of hostile apathy—nurtured along by Xbox Live shit-talk and comment-board flame wars and Twitter—that’s mutated in our cultural petri dish to create a rhetorical world where whoever cares, loses. Today, everyone with any kind of grievance probably just has sand in their vagina; expressing it with anything beyond a reaction GIF means you’re “whining”; cry more, your tears are delicious. We live in Generation U Mad Bro, and from its very infancy, South Park has armed it with enough prefab eye-rolling retorts (“ManBearPig!” “I’m a dolphin!” “Gay Fish!” “…’Member?”) to sneeringly shut down discussions on everything from climate change and identity politics to Kanye West and movie reboots. Why not? Everything sucks equally, anyway. Voting is just choosing between some Douche and a Turd Sandwich. Bullying is just a part of life. Suck it up and take it, until it’s your turn to do the bullying. Relax, guy.

Again, it’s a world that South Park didn’t create intentionally, just by setting out to make us laugh, or by Parker and Stone trying to get rich off a bunch of farting construction paper cutouts. But even Parker and Stone seem slightly, if only occasionally uneasy about the overarching life lessons they’ve imparted—often expressing that anxiety in the show itself. In “You’re Getting Old,” South Park’s most moving half-hour, Parker and Stone grappled directly with the cumulative effects of perpetually shitting on things—of allowing a healthy, amused skepticism to ossify into cynicism and self-satisfied superiority, then into nihilism, then into blanket, misanthropic hatred. That dark night of the soul later formed the through-lines of seasons 19 and 20, where South Park wryly, semi-sincerely confronted the series’ place as a “relic from another time” by putting the town under the heavy thumb of PC Principal.

Then—after hooking its red-pilled fans with an extended critique of the emptiness of neoliberalism, epitomized by a sneering, “safe space”-mocking character that was literally named Reality—it tried confronting the audience who had most embraced their ramped-up anti-PC crusades. Last season kicked off with Cartman admitting to Kyle, “We’re two privileged, straight white boys who have their laughs about things we never had to deal with,” a confession rendered only slightly tongue-in-cheek by the fact of who was saying it. And it culminated in Gerald, who’d spent the year gleefully harassing people online, squaring off with the Danish prime minister, a stand-in for every troll the show’s ever nurtured:

I want to stand here and tell you that you and I are different, but it’s not true. All we’ve been doing is making excuses for being horrible people. I don’t know if you tried to teach me a lesson, but you have. I have to stand here and look at you. And all I see is a big fat reflection of myself.

Ultimately, of course, Gerald comes to a familiar conclusion: “Fuck you, what I do is fucking funny, bitch!” he cries, before kicking the prime minister in the balls. Fair enough. South Park is, and always will be, funnier than any of the maladjusted creeps who have spent decades internalizing the show’s many false equivalencies and ironic racism, then lazily regurgitating them in an attempt to mimic its edginess—or worse, by treating them as some sort of scripture for living. And to be certain, there are millions of Poe’s law-defying viewers for whom South Park really is just a comedy, one that satisfies the most basic requirement of saying the things you shouldn’t say, in a far more clever way than you could say them. But regardless of their satirical intent, or the humanity that grounds even their nastiest attacks, it’s clear that even Parker and Stone sometimes question the influence they’ve had on the world, and who is and isn’t in on the joke.

Which brings us (as all 2017 articles must) to Donald Trump, the ultimate troll, and one that Parker sees as a natural outgrowth of South Park’s appeal to a nation bored with politeness. As he recently told the Los Angeles Times:

He’s not intentionally funny but he is intentionally using comedic art to propel himself. The things that we do—being outrageous and taking things to the extreme to get a reaction out of people—he’s using those tools. At his rallies he gets people laughing and whooping. I don’t think he’s good at it. But it obviously sells—it made him president.

Trump’s blithe offensiveness, rampant narcissism, and faith that everyone but him is stupid makes him a natural analog to Eric Cartman. But instead, South Park made him into Mr. Garrison—a decision that makes some logical sense (Mr. Garrison is of constitutional age, hates Mexicans and women, and doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself), though it also felt a bit like dissembling. Nevertheless, as the election wore on, South Park again seemed to acknowledge its role in helping to create a world where someone like Trump could seem like an exciting, entertaining alternative to conventional blandness. And it made a real, concerted effort to stymie any suggestion of support by having Garrison declare repeatedly that he was “a sick, angry little man” who “will fuck this country up beyond repair,” all while openly mocking those who still loved him anyway as nostalgia-drunk idiots.

“Is it just me or has South Park gone full cuck?” wondered fans on Reddit’s The_Donald immediately after that episode aired, and probably not for the first (or last) time. But in the aftermath of Trump/Garrison’s election, those same, vigilant cuck-watchers were back to crowing over how South Park had really stuck it to politically correct types in a scene where Trump/Garrison tells PC Principal, “You helped create me.” That South Park positioned this as less of a triumphant comeuppance than a suicidal backfire didn’t seem to matter. And the show more or less left it there—portraying Trump/Garrison as a dangerously incompetent buffoon, but also as the ultimate “u mad?” to all those liberals they fucking hate.

All of which makes Parker and Stone’s recent declaration to lay off Trump in the coming 21st season a real disappointment at best, cowardice at worst. The duo is, of course, under no obligation to tackle politics—or anything else they don’t want to, for that matter. They’re also right that mocking Trump is both redundant and “boring,” and also that everyone does it. For two dyed-in-the-wool contrarians, Trump comedy feels every bit as bland, lifeless, and sitcom-safe as an episode of, say, Veronica’s Closet. Furthermore, Parker’s complaints of the show just “becoming CNN now” and not wanting to spend every week endlessly restacking the sloppy Jenga pile of Trump-related outrage is completely understandable. Believe me, I get it.

That said: Man, what a cop out. South Park has already spent the past 20 years being CNN for its CNN-hating audience. Meanwhile, Parker and Stone have proudly, loudly thumped for a “fearless” brand of satire that’s willing to mock everyone from George W. Bush to Scientology to Mormonism to Muhammad, even under death threats. To shrug now and say, as Parker did, “I don’t give a shit anymore”—right when, by their own admission, the influence of the show’s worldview has reached all the way to the White House—feels especially disingenuous, and suspiciously like caving to the young, Trump-loving fans with whom they have forged such an uneasy relationship. (“South Park bends the knee on their fake-news-fueled portrayal of President Trump,” one The_Donald post gloated, followed by many, many more.) If they truly believe that those trolls in the mirror are “horrible people” who are helping to “fuck the country up beyond repair,” it would be truly fearless to tell them why, with no hint of ambiguous, everything-sucks irony that can be willfully misinterpreted.

Instead, Parker now says he’s eager to get back to “the bread and butter of South Park: kids being kids and being ridiculous and outrageous.” Which is great! South Park is absolutely at its best when it focuses on that stuff, and I look forward to watching it all on my hurting butt. Still, after 20 years, even they seem to realize that many of those ridiculous, outrageous kids for whom it’s “always been there” have long since grown up—and some of them have gone on to do some real, destructive adult shit. Like their inspirations, South Park’s generation of trolls are tiny but loud, and they’ve had the strange effect of changing the world. It sure would be nice if South Park would grow up as well and take responsibility for them.

Or, you know, maybe I just have sand in my vagina.

via A.V. Club

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hauteseeker · 7 years

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Part two of my southwest road trip consisted of my long drive through New Mexico to reach my first city Sedona, AZ. It also touches on the rest of my time spent in Phoenix. On this leg of my journey, I experienced a little less landscape and a bit more modern living. Some excellent food and reconnection with both friends and family.

Day 4: Santa Fe to Sedona

I got an early start and made my way West to Sedona. The six-hour drive was effortless and slightly distracting because there’s so much to see and so many times where I wanted to get out and take pictures. There are these moments of a real “western” scene with mountain backdrops and large freight trains passing through. It’s very surreal. I was waiting for a cowboy to ride past me at some point and time.

It was highly recommended by my friend to stop at the Acoma Pueblo, a community that has been in existence since 1100 a.b. The “Sky City” is a great stop to make before crossing the New Mexico border into Arizona. The Pueblo is known as,”a place prepared and ready to live.” The oldest remaining habitat is 15 miles from the interstate and sits on top of a mesmerizing hill. Tourist can visit the town, alongside a tour guide who most likely has direct family ties to the community. Our guide’s grandparents still have a home at Acoma. During the tour, many silly and somewhat ignorant questions asked of the people who lived in town, oh and to me, as I was the only black person there. Those curious Caucasians got a double dose of a minority culture that day! It amazes me how so many people forget that this 2017 and the modern amenities that happen in the biggest of cities, most likely occur in the smallest of towns, especially when it comes to technology. Besides the unavoidable ignorance, the overall experience of this historical foundation not only insightful but compelling. I would love to go back to celebrate a holiday with the people of that community one day.

I continued my drive making stops only to refuel. I drove by reservations, shops, and signature Navajo restaurants as I continued my passage to Sedona. I did make one pit stop in the city of Holbrook to see one of three remaining Wigwam Motel in the country on Old Route 66. The histroic site is nostaligc and fun. I can only imagine the types of families who were fortunate enough to travel and stay here. It makes me think of all the gimmicks hotels do now to attract guests. I can easily see this property getting a few improvements and turning into the “Wigwam Luxe” or something like that. What was once fashionable always comes back around.

A few short hours later I arrived in Sedona. A beautiful city built on hills and red soil about two hours away from the Grand Canyon and Phoenix, respectively. After arriving in Sedona, I desperately needed a recharge, mostly a phone recharge and overall stretch after driving for several hours straight. I found a great deal using the site Homeaway to score a reasonably priced hotel in Sedona, prices in this region can easily range between $175-$500 during peak season. I got a nice stay at a resort hotel and timeshare not including tax for about $100.

Later that night, I grabbed dinner at The Hudson, a place I was planning on dining at once I made it to Sedona. Lucky I was a party of one, so I was seated pretty quickly on the outside patio during the busy Saturday night. Unfortunately, the sun had already set, so I was unable to take in the scenery in the area. The Hudson sits on a hill, giving patrons great views of the landscape. For dinner, I got the special for the evening, a Cornish Hen. The dish featured mixed vegetables such as peppers and asparagus as well as cornbread dressing with raisins. My taste buds were treated to an early Thanksgiving feast. The dinner and ambiance were overall excellent. After a huge meal, I was more than ready to make my way back to the hotel and chill out. It was only 9 p.m., when I passed out for the evening.

Day 5: Sedona to Phoenix

The next morning I got up around 6 a.m. to hike and watch the sunrise at Red Rock State Park. I did not expect the challenge that lied ahead of me. The climb up Bell Rock was pretty moderate to hard in terms of hiking. Bell Rock is about 4,000 ft above elevation. I don’t I went quite that high, but I was certainly up there. The hike was amazing, I had an incredible amount energy and was up for another round of hiking, but I had to keep it moving for the next part of my trip to Phoenix.

Let the Hike to Red Rock begin!

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After my morning hike, I repacked my things to make my way to Phoenix. About a two-hour drive South of Sedona. The winding roads through the cactus-filled mountains were steep, deep, vast, and acutely elevated the whole way through.

I made great timing arriving in Phoenix and met up with my lovely host for the next three days Olivia. She was previously my a coworker at Bloomingdale’s. Just like me, she is all about exploring. We immediately hit the road, after dropping off my rental car, and made our way to the downtown Phoenix area check our their art district. It was Sunday, so it was pretty deserted while we were there, which is good when you don’t want anyone blocking your photo opportunities! The wall art there is impressive. My favorite was this abandoned house that was painted with all different types of graffiti and sketches. In the same neighborhood was a modern coffee shop that we stopped by to grab some drinks to cool us off in the sweltering Arizona heat. It’s the epitome of minimalism, something that would be perfect in Wicker Park neighborhood in Chicago.

After we walked around for a bit, we both decided that the next move had to be for food. Earlier in my planning, I found out the area was hosting a Taco Fest, so we made our way to Scottsdale to check it out. It was a fantastic food festival. Super organized, fair prices, and fabulous tacos! Compared to ones that I have been to in Chicago, it was supremely better. They had several different tents to grab drinks, VIP access for optimal margarita tasting(if you were trying to spend some big bucks) and a lot of food vendors. I think what sold me were the prices. Tacos were only $2 each! I spent $20 on seven tacos and a drink. Not bad at all!

After a long hot day, we made our way back to her place. It was still pretty nice outside, so we went to the pool to soak in the hot tub and spill the tea. We had a lot to catch up on from the past two years that we hadn’t seen each other. It was great to talk about where we were and where we so desired to be. A fabulous way to end my first night there.

Day 6: Phoenix, Scottsdale, and Mesa

The sixth day I was able to catch up on some long ignored e-mails as well as some news and gossip. Crazy how much you don’t pay attention to those things when you are busy soaking up a new place. It’s almost like the rest of the world stands still.

After we got dressed, we went out to explore some of Olivia’s favorite spots, which are fabulous and Instagram-worthy. We made our way to Luci’s for brunch. The grocer/restaurant was charming. The food, eh. The best thing about the meal was the drink. An “Arnold Palmer” like a concoction of green tea and watermelon flavored lemonade.

After that, we made our way to AZ Pops to grab some popsicles. Super nostalgic. I can’t think of the last time I had a homemade popsicle like the one at AZ Pops. I chose the peach and prickly pear combo. It was very different; prickly pears are flowers found only on a particular type of cactus. As I later learned at the Desert Botanical Garden, they can be made into candies or eaten raw. The popsicle was great, and I even had a chance to chat with the store owner. Another person on my trip who had some pretty strong ties to the Chicago area( her husband was born and raised in Oak Park). We also stopped into some nice stores in the area. One, in particular, had a friendly Cali vibe, which is to be expected in this area of the country. Clothes were cute, but sizing was limited.

We were both parched after a light afternoon of walking so we made our way to the Royal Palms Resort for a refreshing beverage and a little exploration. The hotel has amazing architecture, a Spanish Colonial Revival villa that was once used as a winter home back in the 1920’s. The resort is at the base of Camelback Moutain and is absolutely fabulous.

After our daytime romp of the lavish resort life, we made our way to dinner at Cornish Pasty. A pleasant looking restaurant with the feel of an Olive Garden on the outside and an underground dive bar on the inside. That was my first impression, at least at this location. I had never heard of a pasty and was excited to try the British born dish. A pasty is associated with Cornwall, England, a once well-known mining community. The original pasties would be filled with both meat and vegetables as well as sweets, each on their respective ends of the pasties.

The pastys at Cornish are so varied that anyone from carnivore to vegan can find something that they like. I decided to try to Roast Beef Sarnie. The pasty was a combination of house roasted beef, red and green bell peppers, portabello, onions, swiss and cheddar blend served with a horseradish sour cream sauce. Oh my gosh, so good! Everything blended well and was perfectly seasoned. The beef wasn’t too tender, and the sauce was the perfect addition. A chef recommended another sauce which was excellent as well, not sure what it was called though. Something to note about Cornish Pasty is the dishes come as they are described, you cannot pick and choose the ingredients you want inside the pasty. It is literally all or nothing. Go with the all; it’s totally worth it.

Olivia was dead set on making it to the Fountain Hills neighborhood to watch the sunset. So we quickly got dressed and dolled and made our way to the high-priced neighborhood. We found our way up to Copper Wynd Resort, looking absolutely fabulous. I swear, I had a Waiting to Exhale moment here. It reminds me so much of the area that the film was shot. I know the movie is old, but buildings last a long time so I could be right! We arrived just in time to see the sunset and get some glamour shots in as well.

After Copper Wydn we made our way back into the downtown Phoenix area to see what bars were popping on a Monday night. Not too many. We found our way into the Valley Bar, where we grabbed another drink(excellent drink prices), talked life, and finished up another fabulous night.

Day 7: Phoenix to Chicago

Day seven was an early start to a very, very long day. We kicked things off with a trip to the Desert Botanic Garden. I would be surprised if there is anything else like it in the world! The garden was amazing. Cactus from all different parts of Central and North America, other desert found foliage, as well as a majestic butterfly garden that was locked down tighter than the White House. Seriously, they were doing the most to keep those butterflies in that garden! We continued exploring the gardens and came across beautiful sculptures as well as some very quirky volunteers who taught us a few things about our surroundings.

one man + one leaf =

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After the garden, we had just enough energy before lunch to make it to the landscape wonder, Hole in the Rock at the Papago Park. The hike to the hole in the natural formation is a quick 7-minutes up the rock. This is an ideal place to catch at sunrise or sunset if your timing is right.

After our morning of walking and hiking, we proceeded to have a mini sweet and savory tour of the city. We made our way to República Empanada, a super cute restaurant located in the South Side Heights neighborhood of downtown Mesa.The empanadas were incredibly delicious. We were there for the lunch special of two empanadas plus rice and beans. We both added classic Coke De Mexico’s and enjoyed a less than $10 lunch on the cute patio in the back of the restaurant.

We also stopped by one of Olivia’s favorite spots to grab dessert, The Coronado. They made one of the best brownies I ever had, and it didn’t contain one bit of dairy or eggs. Amazing! We then proceeded to search for some and came across one that featured a mesh of vintage goods, artifacts and other apothecary furnishings called, The French Bee. After perusing that we made our way to a hipster-ish bar to chill and kill some more time before my flight and dinner.

It’s an unspoken rule, that if you find yourself in a city where you know someone and have a pretty good relationship with them, that you let them know you are there. At least, that’s what I try to do. Even if you never have a chance to see the person, at least you let them know you were in town. This day in age, it’s always good to let a few people know you are around. Seriously. If anything for safety reasons. Anyways, I had told my cousin who lives in Arizona that I was visiting. Shame on me that I waited until the morning that I was leaving to see if we could meet up. I know, tsk, tsk.

I asked my cousin Eric to meet us at this restaurant called Fire and Brimstone located at Barnone in Gilbert. Barnone is an innovative retail/workspace for handcrafted goods. It features everything from handmade stationary to experimental winemakers. Great place to craft a small business. At Fire and Brimstone, I opted for The Fire and Brimstone pizza. The 12-inch pizza came dressed in spicy tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella, jalapeños, house-made merguez sausage, and cilantro. It was by far one of the freshest pizza’s I have ever tasted! I had a couple of slices that I devoured on my flight back to Chicago. After my week-long adventure, this was a beautiful night, over pizza with friends and family.

I would arrive back in Chicago at 4 a.m. that Wednesday morning.

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Reflections Part Two

During the second half of my trip, I was able to reconnect with friends and family. During that time, a lot was discussed that challenged me to consider my relationships in general. Does this person care about our friendship? If so, what type of effort are they putting in? Am I doing my part as well? The trip also resurfaced ideas of changing my own personal landscape. Many people move to an area to be fully submerged so that they can break into a certain industry or career. Others, move far from it and reach a market untapped allowing for success in that arena too. It’s a reminder that growth can happen anywhere, you just have to be the one to make it happen!

Travel Trips

If you are wondering how I managed to have such a successful trip solo, here are my ‘haute’ Do’s and Don’ts:

Do Plan ahead. I looked into accommodations, flights, rental cars, and connections before my trip. This allowed me to use my time in the most optimal manner. I would be surprised at the end of the day how much I was able to get done. Something I need to implement more in my everyday life as well.

Do get Advice. There is nothing wrong with asking people for things to do, especially if they live there. I asked my friend who grew up in Arizona if he could recommend some things to do in Santa Fe. He gave me my whole ‘cultural’ itinerary. I made sure to connect with my previous co-worker and cousin as soon as booked my ticket to the area.

Do stay hydrated. There is a lot, and I mean a lot of exposure to the sun in that area. Be sure, especially if you are driving to buy a couple of liters or packs of water, so you never run out. Oh, and snacks too if you are in a time crunch.

Do look for discounts. You can ask anybody who knows me well. I know a lot of things to do, but I don’t spend a lot of money to enjoy them. If you are traveling, make sure you look into resident discounts, reciprocal memberships, library affiliations, free entry days, Groupon, etc. It will save you money.

Do try new things. Going to Ojo and experiencing the hot spring was one of the highlights of my trip! I am hooked and want to try every natural spring out there!

Do carry two phones. I chose to bring my work phone with me as well as my phone. Best decision ever. It’s great for navigation and music if you are forgoing a tradition map. Plus, you never know what will happen, better to have an extra device, just in case.

Do savor the moment. It is such a blessing to travel. It’s beautiful to see the sunset into various shades of purple, yellow, and orange hues. To look at the starts, uninterrupted by city lights, to see the landscape barely touched by humanity. Breathe it all in. You never know when you will be back.

Final Thoughts

I am so overjoyed that I had the opportunity to visit these two great states and tackle all the unique cities in between. I was exposed to not only massive amounts of sun, people, culture, art, food, and community. I am hooked on the beauty of the southwest and look forward to seeking more of it in the future. Don’t be surprised if you see a future post of my travels through Utah and Denver or something within that range!I am so blessed to have had this soul seeking experience and can’t wait to revisit both places!

Albuquerque to Phoenix: Seven Days Seeking the Southwest Pt.2 Part two of my southwest road trip consisted of my long drive through New Mexico to reach my first city Sedona, AZ.

#acoma pueblo #arizona #az taco fest #cornish pasty #featured #hiking #nostalgia #road trip #solo travler

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