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steamedlem0ns · 3 years

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Adventures in Goth Sitting: Chapter 1

Bucky X Original Chubby Female Character, Nickname: Morticia

Word Count: ~1400

Warnings: cursing, soul sucking, general buffoonery, Bucky being a sweet shit, discussion of cannabis use (future chapters to include angst, love, canon compliant gore, occult activity, sex, dom/sub relationships, breeding (no pregnancy involved), and more.)

Rating: PG-13 (each additional chapter will be XRated )

Part two:

Author’s Note: Hi! Thanks for stopping by and I really hope you enjoy the first chapter of this fic. I’ve got some big things planned and I just really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing it.

Rule 1: Your Goth requires darkness or shade, at all times. Bright, hot spaces are to be avoided without explicit permission.

You could cook an egg on the sidewalk. I was half tempted to at this point. My entire body was sticky and covered in a layer of sweat thicker than I’d ever been covered in before. My dress stuck to my body uncomfortably and I knew I was going to have chaffing on my calves from these boots.

“You better have a good goddamn reason for bringing me out here, Barnes.” I snapped.

Bucky was ahead of me cutting through a line of ivy to clear a path. I saw his back curl in a chuckle.

We’d had this discussion. When Natasha left for missions, I was his to watch. Couldn’t be trusted on my own apparently. You suck the literal soul out of a skeeze for touching you inappropriately once out on the streets and suddenly you need a court mandated babysitter. Bullshit.

I’d much rather be in my cozy nest in my room, Watching Simpsons and smoking several bowls. Maybe I’d pop some popcorn and order Thai for dinner. Treat myself to a nice relaxing afternoon. But, no. I’m stuck out in the middle of bum fuck Egypt for no apparent reason with the closest thing in existence (to my knowledge) to an incubus. The man was six foot five inches of pure sex and just radiated big dick energy.

Currently though, fuck him. Not in the good way.

“The stop is just up here, Morticia. You bring your bathing suit like I told you to?” Condescension dripped off his voice like honey. I motioned to the pack on my back with an eye roll, thankfully hidden by my sunglasses and hat.

I followed him up the hill and through the thicket of fully green trees. The terrain began to level out and we approached what looked like a cliff.

“Absolutely, fucking not Barnes. Did you really bring me out here to jump to my death? Ready to get rid of me, already?”

I knew he wasn’t my biggest fan, in fact, that was the reason Natasha picked him as back up. She thought there’d be less of a chance of me using my “wiles” to get my way. I gently reminded her, I learned from the best.

Bucky stopped and smiled, propping his hands on his hips. I could see a thin layer of sweat on his brow and felt instantly jealous of that damn serum running through him.

“I brought you out here to let go. You’re too wound up. You either hole yourself up alone or seclude yourself in Nats room. She’s tired of it. Frankly, I’m tired of listening to her bitch. So, doll, you’re go behind that tree and change - gentleman’s honor, I won’t peek - and then, we’re gonna jump off this cliff, together.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled off my sunglasses. If men have one thing, they have the audacity.

“I’m not cliff jumping with you, you goat fucker.”

Oof. Too much. Bucky’s face twisted in this sick half smirk half scowl and he advanced on me. I stumbled backwards, catching a boot on a rock and fell back on my ass. My tailbone stung and I looked up, bleary eyed to see a very angry James Barnes staring at me. He kicked the rock out the way and laughed.

“Am I making you fall for me already, sweetheart?” He mocked. Bucky knelt and grabbed the front of my dress, yanking me up and leveling my eyes with his.

“Go get fucking changed. I won’t tell you again.” He let me go and I landed with a sharp thud. I watched stunned as he just walked away to the ledge again and stripped off his shirt. There was NO way he’d catch me staring. Not after that. The consistent ache between my legs told me that if I wasn’t careful, something bad was going to happen. I picked myself up and adjusted my now, stretched dress. There was a large, old tree nearby and I decided to use that as cover. Believing that Bucky would keep his eyes to himself felt so far away at this point. But, the shiver that thought sent up my spine made me immediately put that fantasy to rest. I changed quickly, pulling my boobs in the cups of the black bikini and sending a prayer to the gods they’d stay there. I tied up my top and bottoms and adjusted the back. The skimpy garment was a great choice at the time of purchase. I would have never thought I’d End up here.

A moment later I mustered the courage to leave my hiding spot. I stuffed my clothes into the bag and slipped on my flip flops.

“Put your bag by the Boulder on your right.”

Bucky called. He never looked over. I did as he said and walked to him. My Heart pounded against my ribs almost painfully. Bucky finally turned his gaze toward me. With a huff and s jaw tick he held out his flesh hand to me.

“You good, Buck?” I asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, I’m good.” He certainly wasn’t. But, I took his hand and we walked to the edge. I could see for miles. Endless green and blue sky, wonder and beauty for miles. Untainted majesty in the middle of New York.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years. Never found the right partner. So.” Bucky looked at you, “wanna jump with me, doll?”

I nodded way too many times. I gripped his hand tighter and he moved us to the edge.

“Okay, we’re going to back up seven steps and then when I say go, run. Don’t let go.”

We went flying, Through the air, like two of the strangest birds. No wings, no way to keep themselves up.

We crashed. Pummeling through the cold water together. I felt Buckys hand slip from my own as we went under. I was consumed. The impact jostled my senses and I struggled to gain stability under the water. As I thrashed, trying to force myself up I felt a hand grab my arm.

Bucky pulled me to the surface and we swam to shore. We both heaved and fought for our breaths for a few moments before raucous laughter broke out.

“You said you wouldn’t try to kill me.” I chided. He cackled. I tried desperately to catch my breath.

“Good?” Bucky asked. His voice sounded genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, ugh. Just, need to breathe.”

We sat like that for what felt like forever. Watching the sky and resting our lungs, we warmed beneath the sun. After a few moments, I pulled myself up and sat cross legged.

“Why’d you agree to do this?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“Why did you agree to be my “escort” when Natasha isn’t around?” I asked him again. After months I still hadn’t figured that out. Usually, he stayed as far away from me as possible, even when he was supposed to be with me. I would walk into a room and he would leave. It’s not like he ever went far, I could always feel his eyes burning into me - but, he never made the effort to even stay around me.

“I know what it’s like to lose control. I’ve been unfair to you, honestly. I know you think I hate you, doll, but I don’t. I’ve been in therapy for a bit…” I turned to look at Bucky as he continued, “working on myself. Figured out that I was projecting my own fears onto you. Some shit my therapist said anyway. You can’t be expected to take shit from people for all your life and never fight back. I didn’t see some soul eating witch and I don’t. I see a woman who is tired of being treated like dirt and she fought back. She just happens to be able to eat souls.”

The tears formed quick, They burnt hot like betrayal in my eyes. I was so wrong about him. God, I was wrong.

I reached my hand over and covered his metal one with my own flesh fingers.

“Thanks, Mr. Roboto.”

Amendment to Rule Number One: when gothsitting in the heat, consider water. Results will vary.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #marvel #marvel fic #bucky Barnes x chubby original female character #bucky x Morticia #aigs

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renaerys · 4 years

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PPG One-Shot: Alone Together (Brick/Blossom)

This is a ten-years-later sequel to Beyond This Morning (BTM). It’s not the official sequel; it just takes place in the same universe. You do not have to have read BTM to fully enjoy this, but it rewards you if you have.

This one is for Carrie. Not only is she an awesome friend and a stalwart enabler, but she also did a very entertaining live reading of BTM and I owe her, like, a lot. Shoutout to the IG squad too. Y’all are the best fandom ever, period. Have a spicy Reds cookie on me with a side of family shenanigans. 💁

***Also posted on my AO3.***

xxx

The night was gold dust and gossamer, the liquor an oak barrel scotch neat, and Blossom had nothing but time. She savored the smoke as the swallowed her scotch and smiled at her reflection in the mirror behind the cherrywood bar. The amber lamplight softened her long red hair, and the liquor’s burn made her pink eyes glisten with a liminal haze in between sensual and soporific. Even the patrons’ voices were nothing but a heady hypnosis far away and standing guard between her and the chaotic world beyond. She could hardly remember what peace and quiet felt like, and she’d sooner be drunk on this serenity than the Lagavulin.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Blossom’s stomach clenched at the sound of that mellifluous voice directly behind her. His body heat radiated like an active volcano: simmering and still right now, but not for long. “I was,” she quipped.

A slim body slipped into the barstool next to hers. The tailored suit did him every favor, as did the rare lack of a tie that allowed for a more lax treatment of his shirt buttons. Liquid crimson eyes held her in his crosshairs, and she froze.

“Blossom,” he said, setting his own drink on the bar with an air of permanence.

“Brick.” The scotch burned Blossom’s throat going down, but not hot enough.

His grin betrayed a hint of teeth, white and sharp.

“Can I get you anything?” the attractive bartender asked Blossom.

“You can bring him another,” she said.

“I’ll take a glass of the Bordeaux.” Brick pushed his empty tumbler toward the bartender.

“Of course.” The bartender cleared the old glass, and neither Brick nor Blossom spared him a glance.

“How about now?” Brick asked while the bartender disappeared to retrieve his wine.

Blossom’s eyes lingered on the styled bangs that hung in his heartbreaking eyes. “I’ll let you know.”

The bartender returned with Brick’s wine and left them alone to their universe. His adroit fingers held the wine glass’ delicate stem with intention and care as he swirled it. Blossom bit her lip.

“What brings you here?” he asked like he didn’t care even as his gaze trailed down the plunging neckline of her little black dress.

She grasped his chin and lifted his gaze to hers with a sly smile. “Rare night off.”

His eyes burned as she dragged her thumb over his bottom lip, and when she tried to pull away, he caught her wrist. “Lucky me.”

“That’s presumptuous.”

He laughed, and she felt it in every buzzing cell in her body. “Liar.”

This close, Blossom could smell his cologne. Just when she thought he might come closer though, he released her and went back to his wine like it was the most interesting thing in this bar. Despite herself, she twirled a tress of hair around her finger and silently counted to five while she waited for her heartbeat to return to normal.

“What about you?” she asked, returning to her drink. “What brings you out tonight?”

He grinned as he took a savoring sip of wine. In the warm jeweled lighting, the few threads of grey in his burnished copper hair gleamed silver. “Apparently, I’m turning 40.”

“And this is how you’re celebrating? Drinking alone at a bar?”

“Looks like it.”

Blossom ignored the way his eyes lingered on her profile. “What about your brothers?”

“Probably at home with their families. Married with kids, you know how it goes.”

“Mm. I’m drinking alone at a bar too.”

“Right, a rare night off, you mentioned.”

Blossom ran her finger over the rim of his wine glass. Tiny frostlings crept down the glass like ivy. “Well, then,” she said, plucking the glass out of his hand and taking a full sip of the chilled wine, “I suppose we’re alone together.”

Brick’s thumb at the corner of her mouth was so warm she gasped. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, and the drop of wine he’d caught along with it. Blossom watched as he brought the digit to his mouth and licked it clean.

“I suppose we are,” he said, breaking the hypnotic pull.

Blossom flushed. She supposed she deserved that one.

“Can I get you two anything else?” the bartender asked politely.

Blossom flashed him a curt smile. “No, thank you. I’ve had enough for one night. Please send the bill to my room.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She got up and gathered her clutch and phone. The entire time, Brick watched her like she might catch fire if he looked away.

“Brick,” she said primly.

“Blossom,” he returned. “Turning in?”

“It’s late.”

He ran his finger over the rim of his wine glass, and the frost vines evaporated under his touch. “Is it? I lost track of the time.”

“Well, you still have a couple hours left of your birthday. I’m sure you’ll find some way to enjoy them.”

“I’m sure I will.”

With that, she left him to his wine and headed for the elevator that would take her to the topmost floor, where she had rented a room for the evening. A honeymooning couple giggled as they dashed into the elevator after her, holding hands and dolled up to the nines as they whispered to each other and completely ignored Blossom. She smiled and moved to the far corner to give them some space.

But before the doors closed, a hand shot in between them and forced them back open. Brick sauntered into the elevator and perched against the back wall next to Blossom, but he didn’t say a word or even look at her. In his defense, the young couple making out like it was their last night on Earth commanded attention. Their soft giggles and sweet words reached Blossom’s Super hearing, and she bit her tongue not to laugh.

Finally, after nearly thirty floors, the doors opened and the honeymooners flooded out, nearly tripping over their skirts as they stumbled down the hall to their room and fumbled for the key rather poorly. Blossom followed them out, and Brick followed her at a sedate pace.

“Young love,” she quipped as she arrived at her room at the end of the hall.

“Disgusting,” Brick said.

“Now who’s the liar?” She opened the door on the first try as the honeymooners’ laughter grew louder in their repeated failed attempts.

Before she could push the door open, Brick’s hand closed over hers on the knob. Warm lips pressed against the shell of her ear, and she shivered. “Caught me.”

Blossom couldn’t hide her smile anymore and yanked him inside with a burst of Super strength that sent him crashing into the wall with a crack. She pinned him by the wrists before he could move and pressed herself flush against him. “Damn right I did.”

He came alive when she kissed him. Red sparks jumped in between them as he pushed back against her, but she didn’t offer an inch as she shackled him to the wall and held him there for her pleasure for a few glorious seconds. A low growl was her only warning before he got serious and used his explosive Super strength against her. Blossom gasped when her back met the opposite wall.

“We used to be like them,” he said, his voice husky with their kiss and their power.

“You and I?” Blossom ran her hands over his face, in his soft hair she loved even more with its silver veins. “We’re not like anyone.”

Like a struck match, Brick ignited above her and kissed her hard. Her hands fumbled at his belt as he slid her underwear down and off beneath her black skirt. They didn’t even bother with the rest, too intoxicated with the night and the memories and each other to waste another minute. Super or not, there was something incredibly hot about how he could lift her up with his bare hands and hold her there against the wall as he fucked her like they were ten years younger and just as desperate for each other.

“You’re goddamn right we’re not,” Brick said as he pushed in deeper. “Fuck, Blossom—”

The plaster cracked behind her, and it went straight to her core as she tightened her grip around his narrow waist and yanked his hair back so she could kiss him properly.

“You want me,” she said, breathy and crumbling with every move he made.

“Yes,” he moaned against her lips.

“You love me—ah!”

He bit her bottom lip hard, the cheater. “More than anything.”

Blossom whimpered as he held her just right to melt in his arms. Ecstasy: every moment, every touch, every Earth shattering push. He knew her precipice so well it was nothing to plunge her over it and catch her as she fell. With a shudder, she kissed his ear, his temple, his mouth. “You chose me.”

Heat seared her thighs where he held her, and his gorgeous eyes held hers at the expense of all others. “You’re my wife,” he said.

Blossom’s pride flared at that spell in his voice, as powerful as the first time he had ever cast it, and she rewarded him with a clenching embrace that broke him. With a muffled cry, he buried his face in her neck and bit down as he came. The air shimmered around them, Super heated, and Blossom summoned frost to her lips and fingertips as she threaded them through his hair and whispered softly.

After a few moments, his grip loosened and she slipped back to the floor still in her strappy heels. She appraised the entrance to their hotel room: a wrecking ball may have checked in for the night in their stead. “We didn’t even make it past the threshold.”

His laugh came out more like a wheeze as he fixed his pants and leaned one arm on the cracked wall to catch his breath. “Your act worked a little too well on me.”

“The role-play was your idea.”

His gazed trailed down her figure. “No wonder it was perfect.”

Blossom ran her hand over his chest, damp with sweat. One by one, she popped the buttons off his red dress shirt. “Satisfied already?”

With every button she popped off, his face slackened as the afterglow faded and his desire for her returned with a vengeance. Blossom fought the urge to squirm under his heady gaze.

“That sounded like a challenge,” he said, physically straining not to grab her.

The last button was off, and Blossom ran her palms over his smooth skin to shoulders, pushing the shirt and his blazer off. “You know me so well.”

Before he could respond, she had his shirt off and flew him across the room in a blaze of pink, where he hit the bed with a whoosh. For as long as she lived, Blossom was sure she would never get tired of the absolute high she felt looming over her husband about to have her wicked way with him, and the unadulterated passion and pride with which he watched her doing it.

She pulled the tie out of her hair and let it tumble over her shoulder. Slowly, the straps of her dress slipped off, leaving her bare from the waist up. “Happy birthday, Brick.”

It was a miracle the guests in the room below theirs didn’t file a complaint with the front desk when the bed gave out.

xxx

Brick pulled his black Aston Martin into the circular driveway of Princess Morbucks’ seaside vacation home on the Sonoma coast. He cut the engine and sat there as Blossom finished texting a work email on her phone. When he didn’t budge, she put her phone away and looked at him quizzically.

“Brick?”

He sighed and leaned his head back against the black leather rest. “Do we have to go in there?”

Her fingers through his linen shirt were cool to the touch, and he repressed a shiver as she leaned close. “Are you pouting?”

There was a smile in her voice that he chose to ignore and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t tease me right now.”

She smiled for real and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry. You know I love you.”

“And yet, here we are.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s my birthday weekend.”

“And the weekend is nearly over. Hey.” She touched his face and turned him toward her. “Are you okay?”

He searched her eyes for any hint of a ploy, but he found none. They were such a lovely shade of rose, unlike anything he had ever seen on another person, and they were honest. She had always afforded him her honesty since they became reacquainted, and for that, he would have given her anything she wanted. “I miss this,” he said, letting her see a glimmer of the vulnerability he was sadly so good at keeping under lock and key.

“What do you miss?” she asked.

“Us. Time. Our time. One weekend isn’t enough. We shouldn’t need some excuse to take off.”

She looked at him like she really heard him, but before she could respond, something Super-powered and little girl-sized hit the driver’s side window.

“Daddy! You’re back!”

Brick nearly jumped out of his own skin and coughed up smoke. Blossom was out the passenger side door faster than the naked eye could see, and she quickly yet carefully peeled her five-year-old daughter off the side of Brick’s beloved car.

“Hey, no hello for me, Briar?” Blossom hiked Briar up on her hip, and Briar blinked dark scarlet eyes far too savvy for her age.

“Maaaaaybe,” she said, aloof.

“Oh, I see how it is. Then I’ll just have to give you a big frosty kiss!”

Brick got out of his car and watched his grown-ass wife and mother of his children stoop to a five-year-old’s level and blow an icy raspberry on Briar’s neck, freezing half of her solid. Briar squealed in surprise or delight and leaped out of Blossom’s arms. She bent the ice off her skin to gather in her hands, and blew out even more with each peal of laughter as she began launching Super snowballs at Blossom.

Brick caught one that went awry in his bare hand before it could smack into his car, and it evaporated to steam almost instantly under his infernal power. “Briar, where’s your brother—oof!”

He got an armful of little girl wrapped up in a rose-red blur for his complacency and fell back on his ass. Instinct and old habits stoked furious fire in his lungs, but it fizzled to nothing as his daughter laughed and plied him with kisses, smearing pink lipstick all over his cheeks and chin.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he demanded. “Is that a tiara?”

“You bet your grumpy old ass it is.” Princess emerged from the house looking far too fabulous for a Sunday afternoon at home. “Swarovski crystal. You like?”

“I like!” Briar chimed in.

Blossom grinned. “She does look fabulous.”

Princess flipped her stupidly luscious hair. “In this house, every girl is a princess. I should know.”

Unfortunately, Blossom found that funny and laughed along with Princess. As convenient as it was that his best friend and his wife had become as thick as thieves over the years, it often resulted in a battle of the sexes that saw him giving up far too much ground to the both of them. Some wars, however, were not worth fighting. Not when they both looked at him like he’d won something by picking himself off the ground with Briar tucked under his arm like a Corgi.

“Oh Brick, that’s a great color on you,” Princess gushed. “Pink is the new black.”

“Please, pink never went out of style.” Blossom winked coyly at Brick, and his pathetic heart beat a little bit faster.

“God, you’re so right,” Princess said. “Listen to your mom, Briar. She’s the smartest person I know, and that’s saying something.”

Case in point, some wars were not worth fighting. Brick ignored the playful jab and wiped the pink lipstick smears off his face.

“Daddyyyyyy,” Briar whined.

“Don’t ‘Daddy’ me, Briar,” Brick said. But he took one look at her big scarlet eyes and her cute ponytail she insisted on growing out because she wanted to be as pretty as Mommy and Mommy was the prettiest girl in the whole world (which, true), and he caved like a bendy straw. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Briar flew out of his hold and plopped down on his shoulders like a queen on her throne, and Brick held her in place by her ankles.

“Oh, cheers, Briar.” Princess raised her wine glass to no one at all and took a satisfied sip.

“Hey, where’s Blaze?” Blossom asked.

“Who?” Princess said.

“Ha ha. Please tell me he didn’t burn anything down this time.”

Princess waved her off and headed back inside. “He’s fine, don’t worry. But he didn’t want me to dress him up for some totally insane reason. Am I right, Briar?”

“You’re always right, Aunt Prin!”

Brick rolled his eyes so hard he could see his brain short-circuiting in his skull. “Jesus Christ, what have I done.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you managed to make an impeccable daughter,” Princess quipped.

“Nope, that one’s on me,” Blossom said.

They laughed again, and Brick felt the small part of his soul that wasn’t bonded to Blossom’s wither and die.

“This way, Daddy.” Briar tugged on his perfectly styled hair to steer him left once they were past the foyer, and Brick automatically changed course.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Did you have a good time with Aunt Princess?”

“Uh-huh!”

“How many new clothes did she buy you?”

“Um, this many?” Briar waggled all ten of her fingers in his face.

“Cool,” he said.

Not cool.

Princess was single-handedly turning his children into fashion-forward little snobs. And while Brick would never abide any child of his looking like some snot-nosed, slobbering baby, a part of him worried whether he and Blossom were spoiling them too much. Blossom insisted it was fine so long as the gifts came from Princess and not from them, and they learned how to say thank you and pick only a few to keep from the vast collection so the rest could go to charity, so maybe it really was fine. He wouldn’t know, having never received much from his own father growing up, let alone a cool rich aunt.

In the living room, a skinny eight-year-old boy wearing a red baseball cap too big for his head slept on the leather sofa with his back to Brick and Briar when they entered. Brick checked behind him for any sign of Blossom, but she was obliviously chattering away in the kitchen with Princess, probably indulging in a glass of that rosé Princess had been drinking. Briar had fallen very quiet on his shoulders, and he squeezed her ankles conspiratorially.

Heat churned in Brick’s lungs, gathered pressure in his cheeks, and burst from his lips in a tight ball. His sleeping son’s arm shot up and caught the ball of fire before it could hit him in the back and incinerate the sofa. Briar whined in disappointment, like she’d wanted to see her big brother’s pants catch on fire.

“Hi, Dad.”

“It’s four in the afternoon, Blaze,” Brick said. “Why the hell are you sleeping?”

Blaze snuffed out the fireball and turned over on the sofa with a lazy yawn. He pulled off his cap that used to be Brick’s, scratched his short red hair, and slipped it on again backwards. Pretty, almost feminine fuchsia eyes blinked blearily up at his father and little sister towering over him.

“Aunt Prin made me heat up the pool this morning,” he said.

Of course she fucking would.

Leave it to Princess to choose swimming in an unheated pool over the goddamned ocean that was literally her backyard on a whim and putting his pyromantic son to work.

“Did she pay you?” Brick asked.

Blaze shrugged. “Nah. But she promised me a favor. Anything I want.”

Brick cracked a smile. “Well played.”

He was learning fast. Perhaps too fast. Oh well—he was Blossom’s son; she would have to deal with him when the time came.

A loud bark of laughter from the kitchen preceded a sharp and rather chilly tug on Brick’s hair. “What’s so funny?” Briar asked.

Brick took a deep breath and tried not to think about the damage his daughter’s ice powers were doing to his hair. “Let’s find out. Blaze, get your ass off that couch.”

Blaze got up with minimal grumbling, and Briar leaped from Brick’s shoulders to his. “Sleepy head!”

Blaze scrunched up his freckled face in a way that made him look his very young age despite all his best efforts. “Briar, quit it!”

“Make me!”

“I will.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yes-huh!”

“Nuh-uhhhhh!” Briar hugged him tight and burst with frost.

“My hair!” Blaze flashed fuchsia in a panic and shimmering heat rose from his shoulders, melting Briar’s ice. She laughed and took off flying, and he was quick to follow. “Get back here!”

Brick considered stopping them, decided it one hundred percent wasn’t his problem, and headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of Princess’ wine.

“Did you find Blaze?” Blossom asked when Brick entered the enormous marble kitchen.

Brick opened his mouth to respond when Briar and Blaze blasted into the kitchen in a burst of scarlet and fuchsia. Blossom dissolved in a blur of cotton candy pink and reappeared with two tiny Supers in each hand dangling from their collars.

“She started it!” Blaze exclaimed at the same time as Briar said, “He started it!”

“And I’m ending it,” Blossom said in a tone that brooked no argument. She looked between her two children, contrite and expecting her punishment.

Blaze looked to Brick for a lifeline, but he held his son’s gaze with unwavering indifference: if he was going to fuck around like a little baby, then he would be treated like a little baby.

“What do you say?” Blossom asked.

“Sorry,” Briar muttered.

Blaze wiped his nose. “Yeah, sorry Mom. Sorry Aunt Prin. We didn’t mean to almost wreck your house.”

Princess shrugged. “Whatever, kid.”

Brick shot her a withering look. “Really, though?”

Princess poured herself more wine.

Blossom caved like the sap she was and hugged her children close, showering them both with kisses. “I missed you guys!”

Blaze and Briar bravely put up with their mother’s effusive love for a few seconds until she put them down.

“Do you have something to say to your father?” Blossom asked.

Both Blaze and Briar beamed at Brick, and he repressed a cringe. “Happy birthday, Dad!” they said in creepy-cute unison.

Brick took one look at them and grabbed Princess’ arm. “Princess.”

“Say no more.” Princess poured him a generous glass of wine. Unfortunately, she also looped her arm around his and hugged him. “Happy birthday, hot stuff.”

“Kill me.” Brick downed his wine.

“You are so dramatic. Runs in the family, obviously,” Princess said. She kissed his cheek and wiped her red lipstick off after.

They hung out in the kitchen drinking wine while Blaze and Briar entertained themselves talking Blossom’s ear off about every single thing they did this long weekend. Like a champ, she listened and enthusiastically responded to it all, while Brick sighed and thanked whatever gods didn’t exist for the gift of wine and Princess.

When eventually Blaze climbed onto Brick’s lap and fell asleep again, Blossom decided it was time to leave. Brick carefully shoveled Blaze and Briar into the backseat of his Aston Martin and buckled them up. “Keep your shit under control,” he warned them.

Briar beamed. Her energy knew no limits. “Okay, Daddy!”

Blaze crossed his arms and promptly went back to sleep without a care in the world.

It took another ten minutes to pry Blossom away from Princess as they embraced and confessed their undying love for each other and, like, almost made out probably because there was nothing in the world better than a positive female friendship, as Blossom was fond of reminding him.

By the time they arrived at their suburban Citiesville home, Blaze and Briar were passed out cold. Once Brick and Blossom put them to bed, they sat together in the living room with a blanket between them.

“Hey,” Blossom said as she leaned against his side on the sofa admiring the garden through their floor to ceiling windows, “do you want to continue what we were talking about earlier? About there not being enough time for us?”

Brick sipped his wine. He had an arm around Blossom, and he could smell her perfume. “Not really.”

“Okay.”

They lapsed into silence for a bit, and Brick squeezed her shoulder. She said nothing. He shifted under the blanket. “I mean, I’m just saying.”

“Saying what?”

He scowled and ran a hand through his hair. Her stony gaze made him shiver. “I love them.”

“I know you do.”

“I would die for them.”

“I know you would.”

Brick gritted his teeth and looked her in the eye. “I’d die for you too.”

She touched his cheek and waited for him to meet her gaze. “You’ll never have to.”

“I know. You’re stronger than that.”

She held her breath and he held her. There were memories here, history, a trust they had bled for to earn. But he knew she meant it and so did he, and that was everything. He shuddered, weak like he never was with anyone but her.

“Yeah, I am,” Blossom said. “Hey.” She took his hand in hers and kissed his knuckles. “We have time. You have me. I love you so much, I can’t even catch my breath.”

“I know you do,” he said, his throat constricting.

“And if you want to take more time for us, we can do that. You just have to talk to me.”

“You’re busy, and the kids…”

Her fingers in his hair were a cool balm. He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m not too busy for you. I love you, Brick.”

Her confession always floored him, no matter how many times she gave it. When he kissed her, she was soft and cool, and she kissed him back. “Let’s do it, then. Take more time. Not because it’s my birthday, but just because.”

“Okay. I’d like that.”

“Princess can take them.”

“Princess spoils them.”

“Who gives a fuck?”

Blossom laughed. “I do. Don’t be an ass.”

“Well, we need a nanny or something. Boomer and Bubbles can do it.”

“Boomer and Bubbles have their own kids.”

“So they have experience.”

Blossom laughed again and snuggled closer to him. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m right.”

Blossom sighed dramatically and buried her face in his chest. “I guess you are.”

He grinned and held her close. She smelled like lavender when he kissed her head. “Blossom.”

She smiled and snaked her hand around his neck. “Brick.”

When he kissed her, he gave her all of himself. How could he have lived for so long without her to share everything with? What would be the point?

“What do you think about the Seychelles?” Blossom asked.

“Hm?”

“We could go diving, lie on the beach, you know. Just…away.”

He pictured it: Blossom in a bikini on the white sand, greeting the sunset with champagne, or under the sea SCUBA diving with creatures most people could never even fathom in their lives. And he smiled. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

She kissed him softly, and she held his entire heart in her hands. “It’s a date.”

They spent the rest of the night in each others’ arms, alone together, and Brick couldn’t remember a better birthday in all his life.

xxx

Thanks for reading!

***Trinity House is now live on AO3! Check out that fic if you enjoy my writing and want more PPG content. I hope to see you all there!***

#Blossick #Reds #Blossom #Brick #Princess Morbucks #Powerpuff Girls #Powerpuff Girls fanfic #I love this universe so much #expect more in this playground from me!#maybe I'll do Greens at some point :)

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mars-the-red · 5 years

Note

Soulmate AU 24!!!

Thank you! I have no idea what I’m doing! I only found a few fics tagged as compass AUs to use as research, so I gave it my best!

Tod’s compass was about the size of a nickel, easy to hide with the thick leather band of his wristwatch. Left wrist, right on the pulse point. Ask him what he thought his soulmate was like, and he’d fend you off with Marilyn Monroe’s bust size and hip measurements.

He had things to do. His father had given him the world: the boarding school, the tutors, the travel, the check for his first year at Yale, and Tod was going to make good on the investment.

Where did a soulmate fit into all that ambition? Tod wasn’t lonely, wasn’t hurting, wasn’t lost. When he thought about the compass at all, it was a reminder that Fate made plans of its own, and he wasn’t ready to concede that. It seemed like an end, and he was just at the beginning.

When it came down to it, to the compasses, some people cherished the arrangement, obsessed from day one. Some people hated the idea so much that they walked in the other direction.

That was the secret. You could ignore it. You could follow your own path. So Tod followed his, while that compass always pointed somewhere else - down toward the docks, across the tracks, away from the boxy quads and spires and ivy.

* * *

Summer, 1960. New Haven. A cargo ship, with STILES stamped on every shipping container crowding the overloaded deck, cranes swinging into place for the day’s unloading, and a stack of paperwork for CBP piled up almost to Buz’s chin. The crew was just reporting, and the coffee maker on the bridge was wheezing as it worked to fill a fresh pot. Buz scratched absently at his inner elbow, watching a tall blond kid hop down onto the deck with the rest of the crew. He asked for directions; Joey pointed Buz’s way.

Buz heard the coffee maker’s heart stop, then thump to life again, bravely soldiering on. The sun was just up and it was hot already.

Blondie was nimble on his feet, picking his way across the deck. Buz grabbed a clipboard as the kid approached.

“What d’you need, kid?” Buz asked.

“I’m looking for Mr. Murdock.”

“You found him.”

The kid jammed a finger into his left glove, under his wrist, and itched. “Tod Stiles. I’m supposed to report to you.”

The Prince had arrived, Buz realized. Mr. Stiles was sending his only son down to the stinking docks for a little taste of the real world. Prince Tod had arrived promptly, about ten minutes early.

Buz looked Tod up and down. He honestly never would have guessed. Tod was dressed for work, and the holes in his jeans and the scuffs on his work gloves reassured Buz that he had some experience. You didn’t get muscle like that debating the finer points of Freud and Shakespeare. When the boss said his son was coming down to help out for the summer, Buz had been afraid he’d show up in a college tie and blazer, and Buz would have to find him some useless task where he wouldn’t break a nail. Nope. Tod was ready to sweat.

Buz held out his greasy hand. Then he saw the damn compass on his inner elbow, surrounded by the skin he had scratched red. It was burning.

Tod saw it too. He looked up at Buz, thoughtfully, and then peeled off one of his work gloves. He showed Buz the mark on his inner wrist. Same design, minimal, clean lines, with small furls that followed the delicate blue veins beneath his skin.

“Convenient, huh?” Tod asked, since neither of them could think of what to say.

Buz shot him a disapproving look. “Keep the glove on. We’ll talk later. From right now, you’re on the clock. Follow me.”

* * *

When Tod’s shift got dismissed, Buz hoped he would go home. But no, Tod hung around, waited while Buz took his sweet time locking up the office, checking the alarms, pulling the manifests for tomorrow. Tod was perched on his car - a brand new Chevrolet - when Buz finally left the gated docks and came up to street level.

Buz couldn’t take a hard left and run for the bus stop with Tod watching for him, could he? He spread out his hands. “You waiting for me?”

“You said we would talk. I think we should. Hop in.” Tod slid down into the driver’s seat.

Buz had enough change for a bus right out of town, could feel its weight in his pocket, but he walked around Tod’s shiny new car and opened the passenger door.

* * *

“All I’m saying is, daddy sends you down to the docks for a little bit of acclimatizing - gotta get you used to breathing the air down here, huh? Must be a bit thin up in that ivory tower - what was I saying?”

Tod shook his head, smiling softly. “I have no idea.” His head was propped on his hand.

Buz looked into the hazy bar atmosphere, the yellow lights and the cigarette smoke, blankly.

“Oh,” Buz said, remembering. He was on his third beer, but it was only making him animated, not drunk. “So, daddy sends you to work at his shipping company, sets you up under his foreman - me - and Fate gives you another nod. Rolls out the red carpet.” Buz swept his hand across the table’s airspace, skimming over the rims of their glasses. “You find me. While I had to crawl so many damn miles to get here, Stiles, you have no idea. How’s that fair?”

Tod shook his head again. He kept staring at the compass on Buz’s forearm. He had plenty of time for a good look as Buz pontificated.

Buz had inked up the skin around the compass, adding his own details. Small lat and longitude coordinates, scrawled neatly and forever pointing north, or east, or southwest. Tod would ask what they all meant later.

“- and all I’m saying,” Buz said, and Tod knew that was a damned lie, “is you didn’t have to work for any of this, did you? You have no idea what got me here. So how does this Fate thing -”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Tod interrupted. He meant it. And he wanted Buz to shut up for just… one minute.

Buz paused. He looked at Tod. He snorted. “Yeah, sure, I’m just what you were expecting.”

“What were you expecting?” Tod asked.

Buz eyed him, then looked into his glass of beer, and finished it. It didn’t matter what he’d been expecting. He felt something between them knitting together already, like tendons grafting onto bone. That connection was getting thicker, stronger, every moment they sat here.

“I was expecting to feel… worse,” Buz admitted. He didn’t like the idea of being tied down. He had enough problems keeping himself in line. Who needed the responsibility?

But Tod Stiles didn’t feel like a burden. Didn’t need Buz to be responsible for him. Didn’t need Buz at all.

Tod felt their connection, too, but there was a chilly, razor-sharp edge to his intellect, and he was using it on his own heart, interrogating with quick slices. This was complicated. But fascinating. Buz was a whirlwind, and younger than he seemed on the docks. When he wasn’t putting on that responsible face, he was a hand-talker. His brain jumped and spun and seemed awash with emotional tides, and the mouth just kept running. He wasn’t trying to charm Tod, and that, Tod grudgingly had to admit, was charming. He knew smooth talkers, he knew guys and gals with the bon mot always at the ready, he knew wit and he knew the cultivated, quirky passions of the undergraduate set. And they all seemed ridiculous, suddenly. Buz was the oxygen Tod didn’t realize had been sucked out of the room.

Tod was on his fourth beer when he decided, this might be all right.

* * *

[yeah I planned to write something to actually go here but I am out of time and if I don’t post before the work week, I never will]

* * *

Soulmates didn’t always stay together, either. Tod and Buz found that out the hard way. Sometimes there were other fated things that pulled people apart. The timing could be right, then wrong - and probably, some day, right again. When they called it quits, at that bus station in St. Louis, it was for now, not forever. The compasses would always point home.

#route 66 #dying-redshirt-noises

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stay--satan · 6 years

Text

“The only way I’ll ever talk to you again is if you are dead. And clearly you're not.” - TIM DRAKE X READER

Heyo! I'd like to request prompts 11 and 12 with Timbo ? looking forward to the upcoming content on this blog <33

12. “You were suppose to be here”

SO FLUFFY AND TIM BEING SWEET.

"So I've got your suit and my dress so I think we're oficially ready" You smile doing a little celebration dance "Did you pick my tie?" "Do you want me to tie your shoes too?" with a furrowed brow you mock Tim while he smiles holding you by your hands "I just wanna things to go as you planned. You've waited too long for this" It's true, after all the drama you were finally graduating from college. And being your's class speaker was a huge deal. The last few days you were nothing but a stress mess around the house, getting everything ready for the party and also the cerimony.

Tim has been nothing but supportive around you. He helped you though all your anxiety and sadness after you find out your parents decided not to show up or even call you for your graduation. They didn't support your choice of carreer neither the fact that you decided to come to Gotham instead of a huge Ivy League University. And Tim was there for you in a way that no one did. Also over the fact that you're in love with him in years. Yes, breaking news, you weren't a couple. This was a shock to everyone around you too. You two met four years ago during a huge fire over the city's high school. Tim wasn't in his costume to evacuete the school by himself, so you jumped in (beside his protests) and helped him. He saw so bravery in you that even after you passed out over the smoke, he waited in the hospital and since then boom, best friends for life. It started with a stupid crush over seeing him asleep, and then the hot and bothered thing whenever he was flirting or training around you, but you realised it was love the moment he jumped in front of you in a mug so you wouldn’t get shoot. He literally took a bullet for you after 3 years knowing you. Of course you didn't know he was Red Robin until that moment so you freaked the hell out when a car stopped carrying the both of you inside and leading to a dirty cave. Hours later, he woke up asking nervously about you and his brothers had to hold him down until you show up and slapped the hell out of him for not telling and almost dying in your arms. You had invite him to go as your date since you weren't that comfortable with other guys and he gladly took it. In fact, you did a whole stupid promposal to him envolving flowers and balloons that until this day he tells to whoever he talked to about how amazing it was.

Now, a day before, he's across from you in the sofa with the light of the TV reflecting on his face. This man had being nothing but your rock through so many days, it wasn't just love for him you felt admiration over everything he did and the fact that he insisted to call you his 'number one girl' lately, it was really difficult to not feel your heart flinch by every hour. You took a deep breath licking your lips still starring at him with your legs in his laps and his hands around them. You think sometimes that he absolutely feels the same way. I mean, c'mon you weren't that stupid but he's life is so complicated that he maybe was scared to confess? Or maybe he just liked you like he's sister since he had been in a few relationships during your time together. But he wasn't right now. Right now he's all yours. It was a friday night and he could be anywhere in the world with anyone but he choosed to be with you. He choosed to be your date even knewing that would be awkward to explain to all of your friends that you weren't dating and stuff. So you made your mind, this was it. You were telling him tomorrow at the prom. You were telling him that you've been in love for so long that you barely remember your life before him. Even if he doesn't feel the same way you needed to get this out of the chest. He smiles to the TV as he knew what you were thinking and you couldn't help but smile too.

With you asleep during a certain time in the night, Tim turns to you smiling at himself. You looked so peacefully unlikely the last few weeks it was very comforting. He picks you up carefully taking you to your room and laying the sheets over you. He brushes lightly over your hair kissing your temple and chuckling over the sound you made after that. Tim looks to your headboard near bed and there's a photo of the two of you when he took you for a road trip. It was certainly one of the best days of his life, seeing you singing stupid songs in the car and you both pretending to be british at the dinner on the road as if someone else would recognize you was hilarious. He also remembered the look on your face when a girl came up to your table giving her number to him 'It's the accent, you can't blame the accent' he said trying to recover her smile but it didn't work until late a night when you stopped at some motel on the road and he was gone for a few minutes telling that he was going after food. Tim came back with a rose for you telling how special that day was, he can't help but grinning remembering your red cheeks that day with him telling you he couldn't be more happy to spend the weekend with his number one girl. Before he could jump in conclusions, he got a call from a desperate Alfred telling to meet him at the cave.

You wake up annoyed over the loud knocking in your door. Rubbing your eyes realising what was going on "I'M COMING DAMMIT" Opening the door the was a man with most beautiful bouquet in his hands handing you a paper "I-I'm sure you knocked on the wrong door" "Y/N L/N? From Mr..." he checks his papers again "Timothy Drake?" You're out of breath, did he actually did this? You sign the papers thanking the guy and runs back inside the house landing the flowers in the table taking a good look at them. They were bright red as the day he gave you one in that cheap motel, you giggle over this. Taking a picture of them you text Tim back thanking him for the flowers and go take your bath starting your day.

With a wrapped towel around your head and body, you run to your phone checking for some answers from Tim but still there was nothing. His suit wasn't there anymore so you just thinks he's gonna pick you up then. It takes you almost five hours, but you were finally putting your dress on finishing the last details on it. Your phone finally vibrates and you rush to it. Tim had finally showed up.

"The flowers match your eyes x.x

Also, I think I'm gonna run late just a little bit. Do you mind meeting me there? The car is still picking you up at 7."

You sigh couldn't helping being a little dissapointed. You actually let yourself fantasied a bit about him showing up at your door step and you both being out of breath by your looks. But it's okay, you still had your mind ready about telling him everything and everything would work just fine.

"Hi... Uhm, It's me. Don't know why aren't you answering your phone but I am on my way to the cerimony." "It's me again... So I am here and I can't see you. I'm heading to the backstage getting ready to jump on stage, so I believe I won't see you until it's over which is... Sad." "I'm fifteen minutes away now and you still don't answer any of my calls, Tim did something happen?" "Okay so I called Dick and he haven't spoke to you but I know he’s lying. Timbo what's going on? I-I can't do this without you, please tell me I am going to see your face while I'm up there"

The voicemail was already tired of your voice, you felt your heartbreak when the lady call your name. You try to protest saying if she could only wait a few minutes, but what was the point.

Being up in the stage with so many faces staring at you was so hard. Talking about your years of experience and fun when all of them wouldn't be the same without him. You actually had to cut the part that you thank him briefly for helping you be there, it was the hardest thing and you almost cried there. But now it was over, you throw your hat up along your classmates and their parents join them hugging and saying proud words to them. You finally let some tears drop and run to some corner calling a cab to get you home. There wasn't any point to go to the stupid party after all.

Removing your make up off and getting rid of your hairstyle letting your hair fall down in a waved curls, you sit down ordering pizza finally stops the crying. It was around midnight when you woke up in the couch with a knocking on your door "COME BACK TOMORROW" You yell knowing damn well who it was "Please, Y/N I need talk to you" "The only way I would ever talk to you again was if you were dead. And clearly you're not." "Y/N, open the door. Please" his voice sound hurtful. But not as much as you were. You put so many expectations for this day and now it was ruined in hours, tears came back to your eyes remembering. "Tim, please go away." your voice cracks and his heart breaks again. Hearing the disapointment growing through her voicemails was bad enough for him. "I can explain, please let me in" "FOR GOD'S SAKE LET HIM IN" a screaming neightbour yells and you both jump in scare "LET ME GO BACK TO SLEEP"

You roll your eyes opening the door with the angriest face you could but you didn't pull up for to long seeing the boy in front of you wearing the tuxedo you got him. Tim was out of breath wide open with besides your puff eyes from crying, your hair and dress still looked incredible and your face as always had him shaking. You recompose trying to remember the worst day of your life again and continues "I don't ever wanna see you again" but he stops before you could close the door on his face "Please, I would never do that to you on purpose" "Yeah, I'm not a idiot Tim. But it doesn't matter because you made me believe the entire day that you would come. And honestly at this point, I don't care if you had a dying body under your arms or a burning building in your back, you should told me" you try to smash the door and once again he stops you "Look, I'm sorry okay? I really am but let me- "Let you what? Explain why you let me think you would come late at every second while I was the only girl with no one in the crowd for me? That you would stop me from leaving or find me in the corner where I was crying while everyone celebrated? Or for thinking that you would let me fantasize about this day where we would have a stupid slow dance and I would kiss you or whatever?" "You-you what?" he stops whatever he was saying hearing your words. You roll your eyes again cursing yourself "The point is, you were supposed to be here. Or there. With me no matter what. And yes, I'm letting myself being selfish on this one for the first time in my life and honestly I think I have some rights" "We found Scarecrow and he poisoned me for hours. The guy who talked to you was Dick because I was literally out until two hours ago having nightmares." Oh that's a way for shutting you up. "And while I was out, I saw you. And you're on the stage giving the speech but you're alone. I saw you running back home and I was so close to you but everytime that I tried to reach you, you vanished away. And I couldn't speak or make any move, I just watched you crying because of me and telling how much you hated me." his words came out on a crack as he was about to cry in front of you. "So I woke up, escaped for whatever treatment Alfred was giving to me and runned back here. To you..." He pulls out of his pocket a smashed corsage and shyly picking your hand while your mouth was open from the shock. He places carefully and land a kiss in your knuckles. You hold a smile in the corner of your lips "If you do this again, I'll punch you myself even if you're passed out" "Yeah, I know" he smirks to you and that gives you the courage to pull him closer "No, wait wait" he pushes you away you're panicking. He enters in the apartment pulling out his phone and a cheesy balad starts playing. You couldn't help but laugh on how incredible embarrassing that was and he stands his hand for you to come closer. His hands comes down slowly from your arms to your hips as you lean closer to his body and hold him tight around his neck. Your noses touch as he plays with you for a while admiring the silly smile on your lips that he knew as "You're the biggest idiot in the Galaxy" and just like that, his lips touch yours entering in a sweet passionate kiss. You both stand in that position for a while slow dancing over the song. With Tim twisting you and pulling back to his arms quickly

"I really love you, YN" "I love you too, Tim"

#tim drake x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagines #tim drake #tim drake fanfic #dc comics imagines

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in-peaces-blog1 · 6 years

Text

Two Birds of a Feather Chapter 2

(note: mentions of substance)

“Excuse you?! Get out of my dressing room!” Inna jumped to her feet with a jolt of anger. Evidently, he was not prepared to meet her at eye level, as he took half a step back and briefly hesitated.“I don’t come and tell you how to do your job, so don’t tell me how to do mine!”

“Well if you knew how to follow the rules, I wouldn’t have to!” rage boiled between them, competing to raise their voices above each others’. “Who even are you, what do you care?!”

“You don’t know who I AM??”

“OH! What an idol thing to say, you are so typical!!” Only seconds before an actual fist fight occurred, a sweet looking man entered clearly confused and distraught, he looked at the dark haired-stranger with relief. “What are you doing?! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” This only made tensions higher, “Don’t you have rehearsals or something?!” She snapped, The more gently mannered boy opened his full lips but was quickly cut off. “No, we have a concert!”

Her ears filled with heat and burned under her cheeks, her heart plummeting to the depths of her stomach. And all her thoughts, functions, and ideas vanished, all except a quaint, “I have to go.�� Despite her quick effort to escape, their confused expressions still seared into her mind.

hustling herself down the hall, Inna fumbled her phone around numb fingers to clumsily call for help.

“...Hello?”

“Ivy Scott, I am UNbelivavle!!”

“Yeah I know you can’t wash a pan to save your life, what is it this time?”

“You know the concert opportunity I was so hyped for?”

“Yeah! are you getting-”

“I blew it, I got into a huge fight with one of them! We need to quit our jobs and go back to Phoniex and live with my mom!”

“ Hold the phone, WHO? Which group? Wait... the SHINee concert?”

“That’s their name! god, that’s tragic.”

“Ok well, you can go back to Arizona and live in the basement, OR pull it together, get something to eat, and prep for the show tonight.”

+++

To little or no surprise the new manager sent Inna a text, “Are you out to eat? The group and crew need to eat. Use your company card.” She huffed in offense, “I’m not a damn intern.”

Inna’s arms began to burn against the hot white boxes, the plastic bags hitting her face. A door was closing behind an incredibly distracted technician, it was her best shot at getting the door. She was almost certain she couldn’t make it, closing her eyes racing for the door to hit her foot. But to her surprise, the door never shut. Inna looked up to a pair of big brown eyes and strong arms.

“let me help you with that.” before she could even utter a sound he took everything in one arm and held the door with the other. He had that perfect award winning smile that creased lines into his cheeks. That sort of sophisticated energy that could only be emitted by a gentleman.

“Thank you.” For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, she found herself tucking her dark hair behind her ears in the presence of a man.

“I’ve never seen you here before, I’m Minho.”

“Inna.” She shook his hand with her dark red stiletto nails, a sort of reminder that she usually isn’t so taken by someone. People were usually intimidated by her height and size. Inna was by no means thick but definitely not the brand of skinny she saw in the studio. Her hips curved to soft hourglass shape that she had worked way too hard for to get too little result. Although she stood only slightly taller than most women in America, her five feet and eight inches were towering over most women in Korea, and on some accounts men.

“By chance are you a member of...” The name escaped her, that god awful name...what was it?

“Are you performing tonight or are you on staff?” He was so well kept it’d be hard to believe he’s a part of the crew, but yet again she was second-guessing herself and was suddenly conscious not to get so close since she reeked of smoke.

He scoffed, almost tickled by the idea that she had no idea who he was. He had only truly said his name to be polite, as vain as that may be. He was accustomed to a high level of recognition. “I’m performing, are you?” They both laughed and Minho couldn’t help but walk a little closer beside her. “You could call it that.” They shared something of a lingering gaze before Jieun ran up to her, bringing the pace of the style team with her. “I have bad news.”

the sobering sense of reality dragged Inna’s heart through the dirt. No one ever wants to hear bad news before the show.

“Woojin and Seoyeon are gone.”

“Gone? what does that mean?!”

“Seoyeon is going into labor.”

“Well why is Woojin gone?”

“Because he’s her husband??” This was not Inna’s most sympathetic moment but all she was thinking about was how her first concert could not go down in flames. “Ok ok let me make a few calls, try and see what they have in wardrobe I’ll approve it once I’m done.” She handed Jieun her trench coat, already on the phone with possible replacements.

Minho raised a brow as he set the food down on the table of the green room. Not only confused, as he thought she was interning, but admiring her tight black leggings under tall stiletto boots. The form-fitting crop top that just met the waist of her pants allowed a peek at the lace of her bra. She was important, and he couldn’t ignore the complete shift her presence. Nothing made Inna feel more prepared than a full face and fresh blacks. Unfortunately, she could not be further from it.

“Ivy, I’m about to cash that i.o.u.”

#choi minho #minho #SHINee #kim kibum #key shinee #onew #lee jinki #lee taemin #taemin #kim jonghyun #jonghyun #fanfic

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howtobebyholden · 5 years

Text

Perfect date night

Today I had a date night. Cool, right?

Not for me.

Let’s recap.

I was waiting for the date whilst checking out other gals. Some were what one may call ,,curvy”, others were #goals, others didn’t have anything special to show off. Some seemed to be rather grumpy, always angry, some reminded me of the stereotypical dumb blondes, others seemed fake as hell. It was so depressing to try to predict what their lives would look like in the future. I suspect they’ll marry a dumbass that only cares about his PockemonGo and poses shirtless on IG. A macho, that calls his mommy when you hurt his fragile feelings. A guy that doesn’t read anything apart from his Tinder messages.

Then, Sally appeared. She looked pretty damn fine.She really did. She wore black dress and this cute denim jacket.I even thought about taking a selfie with her to post on my Snapchat story. That would be such shocker to my pals. Nobody ships us, so their jaws would drop.

"Holden!" she said. "It's awesome to see you!" She had one of these squeaky, embarrassing voices that you could hear from a mile. She got away with it because she was a solid 9, but it always annoyed the hell out of me.

„You too” I said. „What’s up?"

„Fine, thanks. Am I late?"

I told her no, but she obviously was. I didn't care, though. I can’t be bothered by that.

"The show starts at two-forty.”

"What are we going to see?" she said.

"I dunno. Twilight. It's all I could get tickets for."

"Twilight! OMG!" Of course she was in seven heaven.

We fooled around a bit in the Uber on the way to the cinema. Just to show you how cheeky I am, I told her I loved her and all. It was a lie, of course, but the thing is, I meant it when I said it. I'm a freak.

"Oh, babe, I love you too," she said.

"Promise me you'll let your hair grow. Short hair is so outdated. My Pinterest told me so. And your hair's so fab."

Her Pinterest told her so … OK.

The movie wasn't as bad as some I've seen. Still, it was rather crappy It was something about a vampire and this ridiculous girl, who for some unknown reason fell in love with him. There was no real plot or action, just some overdramatic conversations and deep stares. The chick, Bella, I don’t get what she saw in that guy … I mean, he’s more than 1000 years older than her. Who would want to hook up with him? I get it, he’s hot and all, but gosh, would it be awkward for them to be together. The hot vampire was played by Robert Pattinson, who did kinda OK-ish, but all in all, I hate the dude. I don’t even know why, he just seems too good, so that’s terrible. I dunno. He really did look like a vampire, he was super pale and sparkled, but it was just too realistic. He got too much into his character. It’s so annoying when somebody is so vain and thinks he’s entitled to always do everything perfect. Hate these privileged people. But anyway, he was the only decent one in the film, he looked like he had at least something in his brain. I’ll give it to him.

During the break we went out for a smoke. I’ve never seen so many jerks in my your life, everybody vaping like there’s no tomorrow. Sally didn't talk much, she was too moved by the ,,perfect Robert”. Then, she saw some friend on the other side of the room. Some guy in one of those Calvin Klein sweatshirts and those fancy Yeezy shoes. Ivy League, obv. Big deal. Sally kept saying, "I know that guy from somewhere." She always knew somebody. She kept saying that till I got tired of it and I said to her, "Why don't you go on over and give him a big kiss, if you know him? He'll be delighted." She got furious when I said that. The guy noticed her and came over and said hi. You should have seen the way they said hi. You'd have thought they hadn't seen each other in twenty years. It was cringe-worthy. The funny part was, they probably met each other just once, at some terrible party. Finally, Sally introduced us to each other. His name was George something something--I don't even remember--and he went to Andover. Big, big deal. You should have seen him when Sally asked him how he liked the play. He stepped back, and stepped right on the lady's foot behind him. What a disgrace. He said the movie itself was no masterpiece, but that Pattinson, of course, was absolute perfection.

Perfection, for God’s sake, perfection.

That killed me. Then he and Sally started talking about a lot of people they both knew. It was the worst conversation type of all the conversation types you can imagine.

It was such relief when the break was over. Such a relief.

And then, when the film was over, they continued their goddam chit-chat. The worst part was, the guy was so pushy, he was blatantly trying to steal my date. I even thought for a minute that he was going to get in the Uber with us, but he had to meet his pals for drinks, he said. I could see them all sitting around in some posh bar, with their sparkling Prosecco, perfect typical white rich guys.

I sort of hated Sally by the time we got in the car after listening to that idiot for about ten hours. I was ready to take her home, but she said, "I have an awesome idea!"

She was always having an awesome idea.

"What time do you have to be home for dinner?

„Me? Whatever time I want” I said. „Why?"

"Let's go ice-skating at Radio City!"

That's the kind of ideas she always had.

"Ice-skating at Radio City? Now?"

"Just for an hour or so. Don't you want to? If you don't want to--"

"I didn't say I didn't want to, TBH, I don’t care” I said. ,,You decide.”

„Ok, then you don’t want to.”

,,I truly want to.”

,,Great, I knew you’d love this idea”.

Yeah…

"You can rent those fab skating skirts," Sally said. "Jeannette posted a photo in it last week."

That's why she was so keen to go. She wanted to see herself in one of those skimpy skirts that reveal more than they cover.

So we went, and after they gave us our skates, they gave Sally this little blue miniskirt. She really looked like such a babe in it, though. I have to admit it. She clearly knew this too. She kept teasing me, by shaking her booty. It did look pretty cute, too. I have to admit it.

"Do you want to get a table inside and have a drink or something?" I said to her finally.

"That's the best idea you've had all day," she said.

We went inside this bar, but Sally wasn't looking too happy. I wanted to snuggle, or something, but she didn’t seem to be in the mood.I leaned nearer to her over the table. I had quite a few topics on my mind.

"Hey, Sally," I said.

"What?" she said.

"Do you ever get mad?" I said. "I mean do you ever feel that everything is going to go nasty unless you do something? I mean do you like school, and all that?"

„Are you kidding? Who does?”

"I mean do you hate it? I know it’s terrible, but do you hate it?”

"Well, I don't exactly hate it. You always have to--"

"Well, I hate it. Gosh, do I hate it," I said. "But it isn't just that. It's everything. I hate living in New York. Taxis, and buses, with the drivers always yelling at you, and the dollars, everything being about dollars, and being introduced to snobbish guys that call Robert Pattinson perfect, and --"

"Don't yell" Sally said.

"You know something?" I said. "You're probably the only reason I'm in New York right now, or anywhere. If you weren't around, I'd probably be somewhere far away. In the woods or whatever, just not here."

"Look," I said. "Here's my idea. Do you wanna run away with me?I know this guy whose car we could borrow for a couple of weeks. What we could do is, tomorrow morning we could drive up to Massachusetts and Vermont. It's dope up there, promise."

I was getting excited, the more I thought of it, and I reached over and took Sally's hand."I have about a hundred and eighty bucks in the bank. I can take it out and get this guy's car. Not kidding. I could get a job somewhere and we could live somewhere, we could get married or something. We could have an amazing time! Are you down? Girl, you gotta be down!”

"You can't just do something like that," she said. She seemed annoyed as hell.

"Why not? Why the hell not?"

"Stop yelling, gosh" she said.

„Who said I can’t? Who?”

„I said. First of all, we're both practically children. And did you ever think what you'd do when your money would run out? We'd starve to death. The whole thing's so unreal, it isn't even--"

"It isn't unreal. I'd get a job. Don't worry about that. You don't have to worry about that. What's the issue? Don't you want to go with me?"

"It isn't that. It isn't that at all," Sally said. I was beginning to hate her, sort of.

"We'll have a ton of time to do cool things. I mean after you go to college and all. There’ll be tons of cool places to go to."

"No, there wouldn't be. There wouldn't be tons of cool places to go to. It'd be completely different,"

I was getting depressed again. There was no way we could speak nicely to each other, let alone, run away together. TBH, Sally is pretty terrible. I truly think she’s the worst.

"C'mon, let's get out" I said. „You’re really getting on my nerves right now"

Boy, did it hit her. I know I shouldn’t have said it, and I probably wouldn’t have, but she was so unbearably annoying. Usually I’m not that rude. Boy, did it hit her. She was even crying. Which freaked me out a bit, because I was afraid she'd go home and complain to her dad. Her father was one of those big scary dudes that you don’t want to mess up with.

"I'm sorry, don’t be like that" I kept telling her. "C'mon, I'll take you home."

"I can go home by myself, thanks. If you think I'd let you take me home, you're mad. Seriously unbelievable.”

The whole thing was sort of funny, in a way, if you thought about it, and all of a sudden I did something I shouldn't have - I giggled. It made Sally angrier than ever. This was the end. She kept telling me to go away and leave her alone. So finally I did.

What a perfect date night, almost as perfect as Robert Pattinson.

#thoughts #sadlife #datenight #i hate this #terrible

0 notes

mobbtown-blog1 · 6 years

Text

Destiny’s child vs. the wu tag clan (fan fiction)

Its been ten years since the release of Destiny’s Child farewell album; Destiny Fulfilled. To celebrate the anniversary, Sony Records booked a concert at the Barclay Center in Brooklyn, New York to celebrate the milestone. The girls, Michelle, Kelly, and Beyonce had not performed with each other since the Super Bowl 47 Half time show in 2013 Where the Ravens beat the 49ers. Kelly was building an international fan base with her dance club vibe. Beyonce just shocked the world with a self financed secretly released visual album and Michelle just got her eyebrows waxed at the mall. The ladies were picked up from their hotel in Williamsburg and shuttled over to the arena, by limo, early in the morning.

Their liaison, Eduardo De La Mucho, met the trio and scuttled them through the parking lot into the back entrance past an already burgeoning crowd of fans camping out in tents, sleeping bags, and trailers all decorated with images of the girls singing and whirling amiss airbrush images of the Milky Way. Although, the girls were inconspicuously dressed in trench coats, dark shoes and a vail of nondescript ball caps; they failed to allude their voracious fans, yelling and jockeying for their attention: “Kelly, I love you girl, keep repping for us co-co skin sistas, girl!” “Bey!! Bey!! Bey!! I love you Bae!!” Oh girl I wish I was you girl, I do, cept, I wouldn’t be with no damn Jay-Z, doe, girl! I know he got all the money but I couldn’t, with his camel lookin’ ass!! “Blue Ivy cute and all, but bestiality is a crime against God and nature, girl!” “Michelle…Michelle… it’s me yo cousin Sweet Meat, your mother said give her a call, your half of the cell phone bill is due. She said,If you ain’t wanna do your part, you shouldn’t have signed up for the framily plan, Michelle.”

Once inside they meet up with their celebrity Manager, Nigel Cumberbatch, E! corespondent and first cousin of actor Benedict Cumberbatch.

“Hello, Nigel, you look marvelous, darling.” purred Michelle.

“That’s because I’m looking at you, love."

They embrace and share a friendly kiss on both cheeks.

"A little sugar with my mocha always gets me up in the morning, love.”

“Oh, stop it.”

I can’t, love, you’ve already got me started.“

"Why are you here so early? you’re not due in until this afternoon for sound check.:” asked a quizzical Beyonce.

“I had an interview for the network with the cast of "Real Housewives of Rikers Island. Since i’m in the neighborhood why not stop by.”

“Who knew a show about prison man-wives would be so incredibly popular?” said Michelle.

“Yes, well you take the momentum of the Real housewives brand, everyone’s obsession with queer culture, and mix it up with the urban grittiness of prison life and you’ve got a ratings juggernaut. This show is literally too gay to fail.” Nigel said with a wry smirk.

“Speaking of…” free falling into cursory though.

“Where is MY personal assistant? He was supposed to come in early this morning and set up your dressing rooms.

I’ve been texting him since six to no avail.” said the liaison, who up until this point had been quietly busying himself updating the Destiny Child website. Actually, that’s what he was supposed to be doing. He’d finished all of that an hour ago. At this point he was trolling Tinder and Grinder for any hot clerks around the arena who may be cleaning out the bathrooms or working the hot dog stand.

“So who decorated the dressing rooms?” asked Nigel

“I did,” cheered Michelle.

“Shelly, You didn’t have to do this.” said Beyonce, nonplussed.

“Just happy to help, guys."

"That’s peculiar, I just spoke with Kevin last night. Everything seemed fine. I hope nothing happened to him.” Stated Nigel with model concern.

“Kel-vin’s a really sweet guy.” said Michelle, exerting extra effort on the “elvin” in a subtle attempt to correct Nigel on his mispronunciation of the interns name.

“Yes,” replied Nigel picking up the clue.

“Kelvin, stopped taking his Wellbutrin ever since he didn’t get that callback for the live action Jem and the Holograms movie, Truly Outrageous. Very dissonant murmurs of suicide,and not Facebook suicide, real life suicide.”

“I’m sure it will work out. Things always work out; at least for me they do.” reasoned Beyonce

“Do you like the wall draping Bey?” Asked Michelle

“I got them in Beijing. They’re fresh spun silk from virgin worms. The color is called Red Velvet.”

“Like the cake?” asked Beyonce.

“Just like the cake.” answered Michelle.

“Lets blow out these $5,000, diamond studded, champagne scented candles and adjourn to the stage.” Nigel blows out one and speaks before whistling out the other Luxury Soy Candle.

“Let’s save the fire for the stage, shall we?”

The girls traverse the corridor and Kelly lets loose a sly chortle.

“Hey guys, you ever see that movie "This is Spinal Tap? It used to come on t.v. all the time.”

“I don’t own a t.v.” Sulked Michelle.

“I own a t.v.,I mean I own like ten of them, but I’m so busy being on t.v. that I guess i really don’t have time to watch t.v.” said Beyonce

“Why do you ask?"

"There’s this scene where the band is trying to get to the stage but they keep getting lost, in like, a labyrinth of corridors. It’s hilarious” Kelly said with glee.

“Getting lost isn’t funny.” Warned Beyonce

“Getting lost is scary.” Said Michelle with a passive whine.

The girls took position and the sound engineer qued the instrumental track for the albums biggest hit; “Lose My Breath”.

Practice plodded on for an hour and it was clear the girls were out of sync since the year and some change they performed on that triumphant day the Baltimore Ravens won the shit out of Super Bowl 47.

“Alright darlings,” cringed Nigel. “this officially an Asian car crash. Let’s take a ten and regroup, yes?"

"I’ll make a coffee run. What do you want?” asked Eduardo.

“I’ll have a grande black tea with lemon and honey.” said Michelle.

“I’ll have a vente soy half calf latte; one Splenda. beckoned Beyonce.

"I want a low-fat caramel Macchiatto, extra caramel.” replied Kelly with precocious joy.

Nigel glared at Kelly with noted incredulity.

“What?!? I’m making up for the extra caramel by getting low fat milk! balked Kelly.

Nigel exhaled dramatically, raised his trademark eyebrow, and crossed his arms in protest.

"Fine, the regular amount of caramel.” she responded with a pout.

Nigel frowned and nodded in continued discontent.

“No caramel?!”

Nigel smiled tightly and nodded in approval.

“Fine,” Kelly snapped back and smirked.

“But, after the show, I’m gonna have a caramel AND a Vanilla cappuccino.

Suddenly the overhead lights shut off leaving the girls awash in darkness. The shrieking sound of maniacal screams echoed through the arena.

As quickly as the lights wiped out; the overhead spot pierced through the sheet of onyx to reveal an upstage silhouette creeping through the shadows.

"Help!” shrieked Michelle, reduced to tears; cradling herself on the floor. “I’ve been molested.” she babbled.

“Look!” squawked Beyonce. “There’s a mysterious silhouette lurking in the shadows!”

“Let’s get him!” Nigel rallied Eduardo; they ran to apprehend the mysterious figure.

Eduardo and Nigel cornered and captured what appeared to be the Brooklyn Nets mascot, The Brooklyn Knight.

“Is that the Brooklyn Nets mascot, the Brooklyn Knight?” queried Kelly.

“Yes.It is.” Answered Eduardo, frankly.

“See?"Eduardo blithely snatched the head off the anonymous violator and turned to face the appalled crowd. "It’s a mask”

Kelly interjected.

“Look guys!” she directed everyone’s attention to the unmasked marauder.

“It’s Papa Knowles”

“Daddy!” Beyonce said shocked and repulsed.

“Why are you dressed up as the Brooklyn Knight, and why are you molesting people?” she asked puzzled and disgusted.

Papa Knowles lifted his head crowned in shame. He blathered.

“I’m sorry girls, I didn’t mean to scare ya’ll and fondle Michelle. I just like to show up to ya’ll shows and push Michelle. It’s how I get my jollies these days."

"See, I told you all I was pushed at the Super Bowl.” said Michelle defensively.

“I really didn’t want to touch you in your nether regions Michelle, I just got disassembled in the darkness.” He whimpered.

“So it wasn’t you who cut the lights off, Daddy”

“No It was not,Bey. Now I really should go because this is more embarrassing than that time I got caught impregnating another woman while still being married to your mother. Can I be your manager again Bey?"

"No, daddy.”

“Well can you call me a cab?”

Just then the lights went black again and a tremulous baritone polluted the stage. When the lights came to, Papa Knowles lay slain in Nigel’s arms.

“Oh, my gawd, he’s, he’s, he’s dead!"

Oddly, the women bellowed this refrain in perfect three part harmony.

Before the women had a chance to mourn their former mentor, a thick tide of smoke came pouring out from the audience. Beyonce noted the pungent aroma.

"It smells like burning pine needles.” Said Beyonce.

“It smells like Snoop Dogg’s dressing room. Said Kelly.

"It smells like the BET Awards” Said Nigel.

“It smell like weed.” said Eduardo.

“Bong, Bong, my luscious song birds, what it do beautiful?”

crooned method Man.

“Oh my goodness, It’s the Wu-Tang Clan!” said Michelle.

All eight remaining members stood arms akimbo, blunts in mouth, side by side, triumphantly.

“What are you guys doing here?"

"We were in town shooting a new Tyler Perry movie,” intoned a severely herbalized Raekwon.

"Medea Joins the Wu-Tang Clan.“ Howled a blazed out Ghostface Killa.

"Yeah we got a summons on a terrestrial plane that your chi was being disrupted, so we teleported over here to to dissect the math, my queen."

"See that’s why you my favorite Rza, cause everything you say is confusing, but it sounds lyrical, so it must be poetry.” said Kelly, coquettishly.

“Well we have a show tonight and I shouldn’t have to perform under these conditions. I’m light skinned; I woke up like this.” Petitioned Beyonce.

“My experience as an Inspector has taught me that the best way to apprehend a culprit is to divide into groups and explore the area in quadrants, that way we cover the most amount of ground in a shorter amount of time.” Theorized the Rebel INS a.k.a. Inspeckta Deck.“

"Are you really even an actual inspector, like my first cousin Benedict Cumberbatch, star of the British series, Sherlock?"

"No, but I’ve seen all the Scooby Doo mysteries.”

“How about the Shaggy Doo spin off?”

“Those too.”

“Alright people, listen to this man!"

The Inspeckta divided everyone into clusters and assigned them to different sections of the Barclay Center. They all splintered off and left Papa Knowles festering on the stage in a puddle of his own blood and guts. Eventually morphing into twinkling embers and ascending into the rafters.

Although everyone was supposed to be hunting down the cloaked culprit, mainly they all just got high and passed out by the concession stand. Beyonce woke up separated from her group and worried the solitude would mark her as easy prey. She trundled the hollow corridor in search of her musical companions. She pressed past a set of doors and tripped over a prop surfboard. When she regained her footing she stood up and locked eyes with:

"Ol’ Dirty Bastard!!”

“How do you do, Miss Beyonce?”

“Oh, shit, ODB, What are you doing here?”

“Oh you know what this is.We in Brooklyn, I’m from Brooklyn, even in death I muthafuckin rep Brooklyn to the fullest!!”

“Are you the one that’s sabotaging our show and killed my daddy?”

“I don’t even understand what you is asking me right now, and what is you doing wit dat surfboard?”

“Yonce blushed and dropped the surfboard. The blunt thud temporarily ceased the awkward silence and offered a chance for Yonce to recover.

"Would you be interested in performing a guest verse during our show tonight?”

"But I'ma ghost. How is you gonna pass some shit like that off to the crowd?“

"We’ll tell everyone you’re a hologram, like they did with 2 Pac at Coachella.”

“Yeah, Baby, I’m wit it, but I’m a spirit trapped in the astral plane. In order to cross over to the lucid world I must leave your cerebrum and enter through your body.”

“O.k….Wait. Enter my body; is this ghost sex?”

“No! My inserting myself in your scrumptious body has nothing at all to do with sex.”

“O.k.,Well I guess it’s O.K. then.”

Beyonce takes the ODB into her body and his aura causes her body to rupture and shake.

As her body continues to tremble she feels a firm grip on her shoulders rattling her back to consciousness.

“Bey, It’s like ten minutes to curtain. Are you o.k. to perform?

Beyonce took a second to consider if what just conspired actually happened or if it was just a by product of too much Loud.

The curtain rose to thunderous applause as the overhead announcer introduced the sensual sirens of R&B.

"Ladies and gentlemen I’d like to introduce ya’ll to a very special and unexpected guest…"

The crowds excitement could barely be contained the volume threatening to reduce the Barkley Center to rubble.

The uproar bled beyond the building, pouring out into the parking lot causing cars and their alarms to rattle and hum. Among the parked vehicles sat a late model yellow checker cab with its wheel man standing astride the driver side door frame. He wore a tattered army jacket, dark aviator sunglasses, and his hair was cut into a Mohawk. It was ancillary Wu-Tang Clan member Cappadonna . He waived his arm in the air and a giant blunt shot from his sleeve. He lit the "L” and inhaled deeply. He moved to the trunk of the cab and opened it up. Kelvin was hog tied and crying on top of a spare tire. Cappuccino, as he was sometimes known, blew second hand blunt smoke into Kelvins face and slammed the trunk. He jumped back into the drivers seat and took another pull of the blunt before turning on the ignition and driving off into the twilight.

1 NOTE

DESTINYSCHILD

WUTANGCLAN

FANFICTION

BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH

SCOOBYDOO

SHORTSTORY

DESTINYSCHILDVSWUTANGCLAN

BROOKLYN

BARCLAYCENTER

MARCH 7, 2014

10:43 PM

mea culpa by mike smith

I heard you got yourself a new man, and living in a cabin upstate in the woods. You always hated the smog of the city,baby. I hope the fresh air is treating you good.

1 NOTE

FLASHFICTION

SHORTSTORY

EXTREME

POETRY

POEM

CREATIVE WRITING

MARCH 4, 2014

9:57 PM

Do what thou wilt by: Mike Smith

She always peeling my scabs for blood

shes always testing me to see what im scared of

she don’t believe in God

she’s always on her knees but

she’s not praying to me

I saw her lurk in the dark

she’s got a sample of

my specimen in his and her dolls

She wears a mask like Norma Jean

She sleeps with one eye open and she keeps it on me

She’s Madonna post 1993

She’s a scene

She thinks she’s Alister Crowley

She’s reality T.V.

She howls during sex

She talks with an S

She’s my Queen

So if you see me in a graveyard mumbling a poem

by a bard back from 1719

just recognize it’s not me

i’m possessed by my bitch

oh my Lord

She worships Satan

#poem #poetry #satan #mandonna

0 notes

cathygeha · 7 years

Photo

GRIGORI by Lauren Smith

SMP Swerve

Publication Date: October 3, 2017

ISBN: 9781250142542; Price: $3.99

Description

"Lauren has created a new series that will capture you from page one! Grigori is exactly what a dragon should be. Smoking hot, sexy, and wickedly dangerous. You're going to love this book!" - New York Times bestselling author Alexandra Ivy

He’s one of the last of a powerful but vanishing bloodline …

Grigori Barinov is the eldest in an ancient line of dragon shifters and the guardian of his family’s lands and fortune. Sworn to protect their history and magic, he won’t rest until he neutralizes any threat to their existence. When he discovers an ancient manuscript that exposes his family and their dragon lineage has fallen into a mortal woman’s hands, he knows he must get the book back by any means necessary. If that means seducing a nosy American woman with an intoxicating scent, he is more than willing to carry her off to his palatial home deep in the heart of Russia.

She’s the one woman who could expose him to the world…

Madelyn Haynes has never fit in. As an adopted child she grew up in a loving home but never felt as though she belonged. Plagued by mysterious dreams she’s had of a silver scaled beast ever since she was a little girl, she is convinced dragons are real. While in Russia working on her PhD in mythology in order to escape the ridicule from fellow professors, she unexpectedly crosses paths with the sexy and dominating Grigori, and after just one night with the man whose eyes seem to burn, she starts to change inside. Isolated in the Russian wilderness Grigori calls home, Madelyn can’t help but fall under his sensual spell, yet something deep inside her calls out that she can’t trust him. She has to show the world dragons are real to salvage academic reputation, even if it means costing her the heart of the dragon she’s falling in love with.

Author Bio

Lauren Smith is an Oklahoma attorney by day, author by night who pens adventurous and edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She knew she was destined to be a romance writer when she attempted to re-write the entire Titanic movie just to save Jack from drowning. Connecting with readers by writing emotionally moving, realistic and sexy romances no matter what time period is her passion. She’s won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including: New England Reader’s Choice Awards, Greater Detroit BookSeller’s Best Awards, Amazon.com Breakthrough Novel Award Quarter-Finalist and a Semi-Finalist for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award.

Author Links

Website: http://laurensmithbooks.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LaurenDianaSmith

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LSmithAuthor

Buy Links

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0746M73YM

Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/grigori-lauren-smith/1126839742

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/grigori/id1262981588

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/grigori-1

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=Wv8tDwAAQBAJ

REVIEW:

Grigori by Lauren Smith

Brothers of Ash and Fire #1

Madelyn has dreamed of dragons her entire life and has always been interested in proving they are or were real. In Moscow she finds a book that indicates they may be BUT finds herself in jeopardy as a result of reading the book and photographing what was in it.

Grigori Barinov and his two brothers are the last of their dragon line and need to create progeny or they will all die out. Little does he know that taking Madelyn home with him might prove to be the best thing that ever happened – for both of them.

There are fights and enemies and a mating and a revelation related to Madelyn and a few other fun events before the book ends with a lead into the next book which will be the story of Grigori’s brother Mikhail. My guess is that Rurik will be the third story in the series.

This was an easy read about a dragon and the mate he ends up with. There was nothing new in this paranormal romance but it was an enjoyable read.

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press – Swerve – this is my honest review.

3-4 Stars

Excerpt: GRIGORI by Lauren Smith

Grigori Barinov stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in his executive office, staring out over the city of Moscow. Body alert, every muscle rigid, the expensive gray wool suit he wore felt tight as he shifted. Below him, people were passing on the streets. A flash of silver caught his attention. It was the wink of a diamond earring dangling from a well-dressed woman’s ear. With eyes that were ten times as powerful as a mortal’s, he scanned the streets, absorbing every detail.

Searching . . .

“For the last few days, his senses had picked up on something in his city. A creature he didn’t recognize. It made him restless. Moscow was filled with supernatural beings—werewolves, vampires, shifters of all kinds, and magically gifted humans were all present—but none of them fired up his instincts. No, he’d never felt this before in his life, but he knew in his gut what it was. An enemy was in his city, a creature that posed a threat to him. As a dragonshifter, few creatures in this world could give him pause and put him on his guard. He only wished he knew what sort of beast it was so he could hunt it down and remove the threat.

The sapphire dragon tattoo on his forearm itched, but he didn’t scratch it. He knew the dragon inside of him was trying to warn him to stay on his guard. The phone on his desk buzzed and his personal assistant, Alexis spoke.

“Mr. Barinov, you have a call from the Russian State Library.”

Every muscle in his body tensed. There was only one reason anyone from the Russian State Library would be calling him. That damn book by James Barrow. He’d been too softhearted and Barrow had been so earnest. He’d gone against his better judgment and allowed the Englishman to spend a year studying him and his brothers. And he’d been paying for it for the last 200 years. He’d been lucky Barrow’s heirs had sent him the journal. Thankfully, it had never been sent to a publisher; Barrow had kept his word about his writings remaining a secret.

I should’ve burned it. But he hadn’t been able to. Barrow had become a friend and Grigori hadn’t wanted to destroy the memory. There was also something fascinating about reading an insightful human’s observations about him and his brothers.

He couldn’t leave it at his office or his home in the country. His enemies had frequently broken into both places more than once, searching for anything they could use against him. He’d thought he’d be clever and tuck it away in a library amid other obscure texts that no one ever looked at in a guarded collection. It had been safe all these years, hiding in plain sight. Until now.

“Mr. Barinov?” Alexis queried again.

“Put the call through.” He turned away from the window and walked over to his mahogany desk just as the phone rang.

He answered. “Yes?”

“Mr. Barinov, my name is Yuri. I’m a guard for antiquarian book room at the Russian State Library.” A man spoke, his voice hushed and anxious.

“Yes.” Grigori waited, his patience on a razor’s edge.

“When I first took over security for this room I was given strict and confidential instructions to call you if anyone ever came asking about a certain title in the collection. Someone checked out the Barrow book, Mr. Barinov.”

Grigori closed his eyes, holding his breath for a moment. “And?”

“I followed protocol. She did not leave the library with the book. But . . .” The guard hesitated. “She was taking pictures. I have no instructions regarding pictures.” The phone cracked as Grigori’s temper flared.

“Pictures?”

“Yes. She was using her phone.” The guard’s voice wavered as though he sensed Grigori’s building rage.

Pictures. Fuck, if any evidence of his existence was discovered and exposed in the world of mortals it would put a target on his back and that of his two brothers. The magical world knew of his family, the last three brothers in ancient bloodline of Russian Imperial Dragon shifters, but the rest of the world didn’t know . . . Couldn’t know.

“Can you detain her until I arrive?” he asked the guard.

“But she’s leaving now—”

“Stop her!” Grigori barked. The other end of the phone was full of panting, the flapping of rubber soled shoes on marble, a muffled shout for someone to stop. Grigori tried to picture the library in his mind, wondering why the guard couldn’t catch up with this woman. Finally the footsteps stopped, and Grigori heard the sounds of streets of the city muted beneath the guard’s gasping for breath.

“She ran—I couldn’t catch her before she left the library. She’s gone. But I have the book.”

Grigori sighed. “I will come to collect it. When I do, I want every detail you have about this woman. Her name, where she’s from, everything.”

#Lauren Smith #Brothers of Ashe and Fire #SMP Romance #St. Martin's Press #SMP Swerve #Paranormal Romance #Dragon Romance #shifter romance #Fantasy Romance

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