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anactualcaseofthetruth · 4 years

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Friends Can Break Your Heart Too, Chapter 2 > Archive Of Our Own Link

Catch Up - Chapter 1 > Archive Of Our Own Link

Summary: Mia Flores flees to Santo Padre for one reason and one reason only: her godfather and the man who raised her, Bishop Losa. The last thing she expects is for Angel Reyes to come into her chaotic life and just maybe be the one thing that starts to make sense.

NOTE: trigger warning to abuse - the whole scene is in italics if you don’t want to/can’t read it

“Since when you got a kid, Bish?” Coco asks with cigarette smoke leaking from his nose.

Bishop turns to Mia and makes a show of looking her up and down. “Twenty-some odd years or so now.”

“Very funny,” Coco mutters to himself as he steps on the butt of his cigarette.

“You have something to say now that we know this young lady’s relationship to Bishop?” Taza questions while looking down at Coco expectantly.

“Sorry for the shit I said, how I acted. Didn’t know who you were, you know,” he offers half-heartedly.

“I wasn’t being very forthcoming either, but I wanted to surprise him,” Mia replies along with a hip check to her godfather.

Angel chortles in front of her, and she fixes her gaze on him as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. He meets her eyes but says nothing as the white smoke oozes from his mouth and nose.

“Now that we’re all acquainted and in good standing, I think some of us need to get to work,” Taza says with a pointed look at the two younger Mayans.

“God forbid the scrap piles up,” Angel murmurs before brushing past her and towards the scrap yard.

Coco follows, but Taza lingers with the two of them. “You two take some time, we can handle a couple hours without our fearless leader,” the VP offers.

Bishop nods. “Mia, you mind giving us a minute?” he asks in a voice that is almost too polite.

Mia looks around expectantly. “Uh…”

“Clubhouse is open,” Bishop says with a cock of his head. “No one’s in there, help yourself behind the bar.”

Mia lets out a breath of laughter. “Sure,” she agrees and walks up the few stairs to the clubhouse, but doesn’t help herself behind the bar, although it would help with the headache.

It’s exactly what she expects it to be, the clubhouse. There’s a bar, a pool table, various other tables and chairs, Mayan memorabilia adorns the walls, along with posters of scantily clad women. There’s a tattoo chair in one corner, a stripper pole in another, and a stained-glass door Mia knows leads to where they hold Templo.

She’s only alone for a minute or two before Bishop comes in behind her. “Sorry, club shit,” he apologizes as he goes behind the bar himself. He reaches for a beer, then seems to rethink it and puts it back. “Do you… breakfast, maybe?”

Mia shakes her head. “Maybe we should talk first, it has been a while.”

Bishop leans on the bar, his hands folded together. “More than a year since we spoke at least. Almost two since I’ve actually seen you, despite the fact that I’ve been up to Oakland three times to do just that, but since I didn’t know where you lived—”

“I know, I’m an asshole, I’m sorry,” Mia interrupts.

“I call every year on every major holiday, on your birthday, on the anniversary of—”

“I know!” she exclaims. “I know, okay?”

“Come to find that fourteen months ago your number changes, your cell phone account gone completely. You’re not listed anywhere, Esai hadn’t heard from you, you refused to tell me the name of that boyfriend you practically fucking worshipped. The boyfriend, who, if I recall correctly, lead to all this shit happening,” Bishop continues anyways.

“Do not blame this all on me!” Mia surprises herself by screaming. “Yes, I’m the asshole that didn’t call, didn’t reach out, but you made a choice and I—”

“Oh, no, we’re not going there,” Bishop states as he pounds a fist on the bar.

Mia jumps and silently berates herself for it. “You choose her, Bop, you choose her over and over again, every time,” she insists. “And I got fucking sick of it.”

“She’s your mother,” Bishop says quietly.

“Since fucking when?” she asks. “The moment that my,” she stops to clear her throat, “when he died she stopped being my mother and you know it.”

“She tried.”

Mia shakes her head. “I don’t know why I even came here. I should have known it would turn into this. Yes, I made mistakes. Yes, I am wrong for cutting you out, and believe me when I say I hate myself for it, but here we are, once again, and instead of trying to work things out with me you’re still choosing her.”

“She’s your mother, Mia, I’m not choosing—”

“You were my mother!” Mia cuts him off, and he looks up at her in surprise. “You,” she confirms as she steps towards the bar. “You said my prayers with me, you read me books until I fell asleep, you signed me up for dance classes, came to every recital. Jesus Christ, Bop, you had one of the old lady’s teach your how to help with my hair when I started kickboxing and needed it French braided every day.”

Her godfather nods but says nothing in return this time.

“Bop, you were my mother and my father, still are, and I came here because I,” she stops and blinks away tears. “I really do hate myself for cutting you out, please believe that.”

He’s out from behind the bar and she’s in his arms not even a moment later. “Sh, don’t say shit like that, pequeña,” he whispers in her ear.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she repeats into his kutte.

“I’m sorry too,” he murmurs against the crown of her head before kissing it. “I shouldn’t have let this shit go on for so long.”

Mia pulls away shaking her head. “How could you have patched it up? You couldn’t find me.”

“I guess I taught you a little too well, huh?” he tries to joke, and Mia laughs to make him feel better.

She wishes she could tell him it was all her idea. Wishes she simply got a new phone plan in an effort to hide from him, moved so he couldn’t find her, stopped working so she wouldn’t have a paper trail for him to follow.

But none of it is true.

“I am sorry, Bop,” she insists while wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks.

“C’mon,” he leads her over to a table and pulls out a chair for her. “You didn’t come all this way to apologize, did you? My number hasn’t changed, you could have called, we could have arranged something.”

“No, I did need to come all this way to say sorry. You deserve a face-to-face apology. Respect goes a long way, you taught me that too,” she corrects him.

“We both said shit that day, from what I remember. I’m sorry too. I do…” he trails off and sighs. “I do make your mom a priority, sometimes it might feel like more than I do you, but it’s not true. I know you can take care of yourself, I raised you to be able to. Your mom…” he sighs again, “is a heroin addict and I enable her too much, I know that.”

Mia wants to cry all over again. Because she hasn’t been taking care of herself. Because she hasn’t been acting like the woman he raised. Because if he knew what Jay did to her, what she let him do, he wouldn’t think she could take care of herself so well. He’d be ashamed.

“It’s okay,” she manages.

“No, it’s not. You’re my top priority, always have been and will be. You know that, right?” he asks and for the second time in as many days Mia feels like her heart is lodged in her throat.

Not trusting her voice, Mia simply nods.

Bishop reaches forwards and takes her hands in his. “What’s going on, mija?” he asks in a soft voice. “I am so happy to see you, but you’re here for more than this. I’ve lived here for over five years and you’ve never showed interest in coming down.”

“I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, but me and the boyfriend are no longer a thing,” she confesses. “Just wasn’t working out.”

“He kicked you out?”

Mia almost laughs. “No, I left him, actually. He went on a trip with some friends and I decided to take a permanent one of my own.”

Bishop sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. “You think he’ll come looking? Should I talk to one—”

“No,” she stops him, lying through her teeth. “At least, I don’t think so. I tried to keep him in the dark about the club and Mom, all of it. He wasn’t very interested in my past, more of a look to the future type of guy. He always had plans and ideas and cared a lot about what people thought,” she goes on. “I felt stifled, I guess. I thought I wanted normal, I thought being with someone exactly the opposite of what I grew up with was what I needed. I had just started dating him when Mom OD’ed, again, and you jumped in to save her, again, and I was so angry. I was so angry I wanted away from Oakland, from the MC, all of it.”

“I don’t blame you,” her godfather tells her. “You haven’t had it the easiest, I didn’t shield you from as much as I should have.”

“No, don’t. All the good memories I have from my childhood come from you. It was hard sometimes, but I was loved and I had everything I needed to get through,” she assures him. “It took me almost two years, but I’ve realized I can’t forget who I am or where I came from, and I don’t want to.”

“I’m glad,” Bishop admits and gives her a smile.

“Normal is very overrated, I found out,” she tries to joke. “Boring Christmas parties, stuffy work functions, Sunday brunch at the club. It’s all very pastel and white with fake noses and bad dye jobs.”

“Sounds like scary shit to me, baby,” he insists. “I think I’d rather wear black and drink some beers with my brothers.”

Mia forces a smile. “It was nice in the beginning, I guess. All the restaurants and fancy galas, getting to dress up for more than a funeral or a court date, nice cars and all that, but,” she shakes her head as she thinks about it, “it was all a lie. That’s not who I am, and it took me too long to realize that’s not who I want to be either.”

“We all go through shit, Mia,” Bishop reminds her. “You didn’t choose this life, you were born into it, raised in it. It makes sense you wanted a taste of another life. I’m just glad you decided the old one was worth hanging on to.”

“It is,” she promises him quietly. “It’s a memory of you that make me realize I was in over my head, was living a life I wasn’t meant for and being someone I wasn’t.”

“A good one, I hope.”

“I was, uh,” Mia starts while staring at nicks in the table. “I was going through some shit from when I was a kid, pictures and stuff,” she partially lies. “And I found that one of me on my first bike the day you got it for me, do you remember?”

Bishop chuckles and nods. “It took me an hour to get you on it, then three hours to get you off at the end of the day.”

“I remember crying when I realized there were no training wheels and thought that meant I couldn’t ride it,” Mia says with small smile. “But you said I didn’t need training wheels, that I was a big girl, and by the time you were done with me I’d be riding like a pro.”

“And I was right, wasn’t I?” he asks with a proud smile already on his face.

Mia nods. “You usually are. Do you remember what you said the first time I fell?”

Bishop grins at the memory. “We were screaming at each other in the middle of the park. You were six, had pig tails, your arms crossed, and steam coming out of your ears. I really thought I was going to lose the fight there for a minute.”

“You let me fall! I felt betrayed,” Mia defends herself. “But do you remember what you said?”

Bishop lets out a long breath. “I told you life was going to knock you down over and over again, but you had to get up and keep going because that’s how you grow and move on.”

“I think you added something in there about proving all the fuckers who tried to keep me down wrong too,” she teases.

“Yep, I did,” Bishop recalls in a laugh.

“And then you told me,” Mia goes on, “that when I felt like I’d been knocked down one too many times and I couldn’t get back up all I had to do was turn around,” she says as tears fill her eyes again. “All I had to do was turn around because you’d be there to help me up and remind me how strong I was. Do you remember that?”

Bishop simply nods and squeezes her hands.

“I realized I got knocked down a while ago, and I needed help getting back up,” she tells him. “I’m sorry if it’s a bad time or if I messed up anything for you and the club—”

“Stop,” he orders, his tone firm. “You will never be a problem, you understand me? Never.” He brushes a tear off her cheek. “And I’m here, always, just tell me what you need.”

“I think I just,” she stops to sniffle, “I think I just need my dad to pick me up and tell me everything will be okay, and maybe a place to stay for a while. I don’t have much money or,” she’s cut off by Bishop’s arms wrapping around her.

“Don’t worry about any of that,” he tells her.

“I realized I wasn’t being the woman you raised me to be. I was trying to be someone else because I was so angry, and I don’t want to be angry anymore.”

Bishop holds her tighter. “Everything is going to be fine. I’ve got you now.”

Mia just lets herself be held by him like she did that day at the park when she fell again and again, hoping that when he lets her go she’ll be ready to stand up again.

~3 weeks ago~

Mia doesn’t even attempt to get up from where he left her on the floor, and instead curls into a ball. Ignoring the little pieces of glass piercing her skin, not caring about the blood threatening to seep into her eyes, and struggling for each breath, she just waits.

It’s less than ten minutes when she hears glass crunch underneath his shoes and smoke fills the air. The smell makes the tension she’s holding in her shoulders alleviate the smallest bit. Smoking usually means he’s done, that the battle is over.

“What am I going to do with you?” comes from above her. His voice is hoarse now, as it usually is after he’s spent hours yelling.

A hand slips into her hair and Mia can’t help but shrink away from his touch, but that doesn’t stop him or seem to bother him.

“Hm? Any ideas?” he asks with his hand still caressing her hairline.

When she still doesn’t answer he blows the skunk smoke in her face causing her to cough. She wants to tell him that his dealer sucks, his weed is weak, but stays quiet. It’s safer that way.

“Maybe I should get you pregnant again, huh?” he wonders aloud, his free hand now cupping her stomach, and at this she physically recoils. Jay pulls on her hair, hard, to tug her back in place. She winces at the little pieces of glass that are now embedded in her flesh. “But I can’t trust you with that, can I? Since you killed the last one.”

“It wasn’t a baby,” she mutters and waits for the pain, but none comes. “It was cells—”

“It was my baby,” he corrects her as his grip tightens on her curls. “It wasn’t cells or yours to decide what to do with. It was mine. You hear me?”

Mia’s eyes fill with tears because he’s wrong, he’s so wrong. She was barely eight weeks and it could have been a baby, her baby, but she couldn’t let it become that. Not with this father, not this life, not if she could help it.

He stands, accepting her silence as both cowardice and surrender. “No, I think we have some growing and learning to do before you have my baby,” he sighs, disappointed she doesn’t already know her place. “If you think this is going to ruin my trip, you’re wrong,” he says with the joint hanging out of his mouth as he reaches into his pocket. He drops a credit card and wad of cash on her. “This shit better be cleaned up by the time I get home, you hear me? Like it never happened.”

Mia only nods and he walks away back towards the bedroom, probably for his luggage. He was finishing packing when she came home. Of course, he can’t miss the annual weekend golf trip with his frat bros. That would be a shame.

It isn’t until the door closes behind him that Mia breathes easily and lets more tears fall from her eyes.

How the fuck did he find out about the abortion?

She’s gotten most of the glass picked out of her arm when a photo in the mess she’s supposed to clean up catches her eye. All she can make out is the top of her own head and hair of the man who is on her thoughts more than she wants to admit.

Mia’s careful to walk on the small path already cleared with the broom in her barefeet as she approaches the broken curio cabinet and reaches for the picture hidden behind all the photos of Jay at his law school graduation.

Her lip quivers as she looks down at the man who raised her, his arms around her as she sits on a purple bike with teal tires and handlebars, her favorite colors at the time. She looks so happy, innocent, unbroken.

It’s probably the only picture of her past in the entire house. The rest are all lies—them smiling at business functions, family barbeques, his brother’s wedding. What they don’t show is him squeezing her leg tight under the table in warning for her not to mess up again, a hand digging so hard into her neck it leaves bruises, and a look in his eye that makes her scared to go home.

But the picture in her hand is real. It contains joy, love, and it all feels like a lifetime ago.

Mia stands now, the picture never leaving her hand, and she knows what she has to do, because she remembers who she once was.

~present~

“We should make a list of the shit you need,” Bishop calls from the clubhouse kitchen as he goes to refill both their plates with the scrambled eggs and bacon he made.

Apparently, she isn’t the only Mayan daughter around. Coco has a sixteen-year-old that is in and out of the clubhouse regularly, which means there is more than beer and chips stocked in the kitchen.

“I don’t want you to worry about that. I’ll get a job and get it on my own,” Mia says as he returns.

He sets the plate down in front of her and gives her a look she knows means he isn’t going to lose this one. “Mia, you’re my kid, let me take care of you. We can fight about you paying me back later.”

She tries not to laugh with a forkful of eggs in her mouth. “When you put it that way.”

“You need a phone, right?” he questions, to which she nods as she chews. “I’ll put a call in, get you added to my plan. You can head down and pick out whatever you want this afternoon. You can toss the prepaid one you got. Smart move, by the way,” he adds. “Don’t want the asshole following you because you kept the phone he was paying for.”

“You never even met him, Bop,” she reminds him, then bites her cheek. Why is she defending him? He is an asshole.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t tell he’s an asshole,” he responds and she keeps quiet this time. “I got a room for you at my place, but since you’re staying awhile we’ll get you moved in to this small house I rent out in a few weeks,” he goes on. “It’s a shithole right now, but I’ll put the prospect on it, maybe a few of the guys. We have a warehouse full of shit too, you can go and pick what you want, make the place yours.”

“I hate feeling like a burden,” Mia mumbles.

“You kidding? I’ve been asking you to move down here for years. I’ve got it all worked out up here, baby,” he says with a finger tap to his head. “SPG is always hiring, you’ll have a job there by the end of the week, no problem.”

“SPG?” she questions as she sips at her orange juice. Her headache is gone, finally.

“Santo Padre General,” he fills her in. “If you want, I can put a call in. I know someone, Gracie, she—”

“I really appreciate all you’re doing for me, Bop, but I can get a job on my own,” Mia cuts him off. “Especially as a nurse. I want them to know I can do the job because I’m good at it, not because my dad called someone.”

“Alright, alright,” he mutters before lighting up one of his cigars. He usually only smokes during celebrations and Templo, so she looks at him with her eyebrows raised. “What? I can’t be happy my little girl is here?”

Mia can’t help but smile at him. “I’m happy I’m here too.”

Bishop grins back at her with a pat to her knee.

She looks back at her eggs covered with hot sauce and lets out a shaky breath. This is what she has been working towards for almost three weeks. She’s here, with Bishop, and he knows just enough not to be suspicious. She’s with one of the few people she feels safe with, in a place where she doesn’t have to look over her shoulder all the time because she never told Jay about it. He never cared to know about her ‘ghetto past’ as he liked to call it.

“You alright, pequeña?” he asks, breaking her concentration on the eggs.

“Uh, yeah, I was just thinking,” Mia tells him. “I need one more thing.”

“Name it.”

“The plates on my car, they are kind of fake,” she says before putting more eggs in her mouth.

Bishop takes the cigar from his mouth. “Kind of?” he questions, to which she shrugs. “I’ll have it handled by end of day. That piece of shit Chevy on the curb is yours?”

“No,” Mia orders, seeing the wheels in his head turn. “I don’t need a new car. It’s just old, that’s all. I haven’t really driven it in two years. I was using one of his cars, and I couldn’t very well take it when I’m leaving him, now could I? But the plates were off it, so I had to get new ones to drive it here.”

It’s a lie. It had plates, but Jay knew what they were, and he’d use them to look for her. There are perks to growing up in the MC, she knows quite a few tricks.

“Fine,” he mutters, but she knows it will be one of those fights saved for later.

“I also need to open a bank account,” she adds on. “I closed mine out when I decided to come down here. Figured it’d be easier that way, I mean, there aren’t many of the usual franchises in town.”

“Good call,” Bishop comments. “You look exhausted, mija,” he says a moment later.

“Thank you, that’s just what every girl wants to hear from her father,” she tells him as she finishes off her plate.

“Let’s get you out of here. We’ll stop at the bank and the phone place on the way to my house, then you can sleep the rest of the day, or do whatever shit you want to do.”

“I would not say no to sleeping for the rest of the day,” Mia agrees.

“And I’ve been thinkin’,” he goes on as they stand, “maybe on Sunday we can have a get together here with everyone, so you meet ‘em all. You know Taza and Hank, but not any of my other guys. We can fire up the grill, tell stories of all the shit you put me through as a teen—”

“Hey! I was not that bad,” she insists. “I was never officially charged with anything, anyways,” she corrects herself and he laughs. It’s full and hearty and makes her feel better inside than she has in months.

“You up for it?” he checks as they exit the clubhouse and are once again out in the blinding sunlight. He hands her the sunglasses clipped to his kutte without a word.

She puts them on and beams up at him. “Definitely. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a real clubhouse party. Think any of the guys will want to get in the cage? I haven’t seen a good fight in even longer.”

“Haven’t been in one either, I bet?” he teases. “Use any of those kickboxing skills I paid for lately?”

Mia looks down at the sand underneath their feet. She doesn’t want to tell him she’s been in fights, not the kind he’s talking about, and that she didn’t fight back. In fact, she barely put up one most of the time. “Not in a while, no.”

“I got a bunch of your old gear if you want to get back into it,” he tells her. “There’s some here, some back at the house, but it’s all yours if you want it.”

“You’re such a packrat, Bop,” Mia teases as they stop at the row of bikes.

There is a whistle behind them and they both turn to see Angel walking over, but he doesn’t look happy about it.

“One sec,” Bishop says and meets him halfway.

Mia takes the moment to look at him. Angel, that is. She can’t believe she let that happen last night, hooking up with him in the bathroom. She smiles at the memory though.

How long had it been since she’d done something for herself? Besides the decision to come down here, that is? Too fucking long.

Maybe it was just what she needed—a good time and an even better fuck to remember what she’s fighting for, or rather show her the kinds of things she is missing. Of course, she doesn’t want or need a relationship, he likely doesn’t either, but some fun? She’s definitely down for that. After the hell she’s been through, she thinks she deserves some.

Mia hadn’t been joking or lying when she said he was her angel, because maybe he was. In that moment, he was exactly what she needed, and she doesn’t regret it for a second.

They only speak for a minute, then Bishop is heading towards the scrap yard and Angel is coming towards her. He looks good in his Romero Bros Scrap shirt. The sleeves are cut off and those veins she loves in his arms are popping in all the right places.

“Hey,” she greets while sliding the glasses up into her hair.

“Bish needs to talk to Taza, wants me to keep you company, introduce myself, you know,” he tells her and his voice is much harsher than yesterday. He pulls out his cigarettes and lights one.

“You think we should tell him we already got that out of the way last night?” she asks, and his mouth opens in shock, causing him to almost lose the stick hanging from his lips. “I’m kidding! Calm down, will you?”

“You knew exactly who I was, that I knew your ‘other Dad’,” he says with finger quotes and all. “And you fucking played me.”

“Are you seriously mad at me right now?” she asks. “Which part are you mad about? That I didn’t tell you that you were fucking your president’s daughter or that I let you play up the big, bad biker thing when I already knew all about it? Just so I know for the sake of the argument.”

Angel takes a long drag of his cigarette, then shakes his head. “I’m just sayin’ you knew all the facts going in, I didn’t know shit, thought you were just passing through.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you usually ask all your fuck buddies for their whole history, want my mother’s maiden name too? How about my record, that seems more your style?”

“Let me guess,” Angel starts with a pointer finger on each side of his head for dramatic effect, “you’re on the run for attempting to assassinate a high-ranking government official.”

Mia can’t hold back the smile from forming on her lips and doesn’t want to. “Wow, tall, dark, and psychic, a real triple threat,” she teases.

“Sometimes I fuckin’ wish,” Angel says while flicking his ashes. “Doesn’t change the fact that you played me.”

“Oh, come on, that is so unfair,” Mia insists. “I didn’t play you, I played my part. We all got what we wanted, didn’t we? I even made it easier on you by leaving before you did and skipping the awkward parts.”

“Or,” he counters while taking a step closer, “you skipped what could have been round two. Ever think about that?”

Mia’s cheeks flush. “Well, I am now,” she mumbles. “But, admit it, you like it, don’t you?”

“Like what?”

“That you fucked your president’s daughter,” she answers easily, and he shakes his head, fighting the smirk that wants to form on his face. “You do, it’s okay to admit it. Makes you feel a little bit like a rebel, maybe. When you’re sitting with him at Templo you’ll be able to look him straight in the eye all while thinking about how you know the noises I make, what it feels like when you’re inside me. After all, I’m not blood, right? So, it can’t be that weird for you.”

“Does blood matter when I’m thinking about fucking you in his chair too?” he asks, and now it’s her turn for her mouth to drop open. “Angel Reyes, nice to meet you,” he offers at her silence with a hand out and all.

“Mia Flores,” she replies automatically as her hand slides into his. “Are you still mad at me?” she wonders once she gains her bearings again. “Because if it counts for anything fucking you had nothing to do with you being a Mayan.”

Angel barks out a laugh and drops the butt so he can step on it, then lowers his head closer to her ear. “And I’ll fuck you again knowing you’re my president’s daughter, if that counts for anything,” he tells her, then steps back while dropping her hand.

Mia smiles up at him, but notices Bishop making his way back. “I’ll keep that in mind, but you never answered my question.”

Angel shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe we’ll have to find out a way to make it right.”

“Maybe we will. It was nice to meet you, Angel,” she says once Bishop reaches them.

“You too, Mia,” he confirms with a wink before turning around and heading back to work.

“Everything okay?” Mia asks her godfather as he reaches for his helmet.

“Yeah, just catching Taza up. You wanna follow me?” he answers with his leg already swinging over his bike. “You probably don’t want to leave your car here.”

“Sure.”

As Mia makes her back to her car she can’t help but look back, hoping Angel is still visible. He isn’t, but she wishes she could get another look.

She doesn’t know what it is about Angel, but he makes her forget what she’s running from, all the shit she’s been through. He makes her feel like the old Mia, the one before Jay, before she lost herself in all the anger she still carries. She feels safe with him, and it’s surprising, but she also doesn’t want to question it.

She’s had so little to be happy about lately, why overthink one of the few things making her feel that way?

-:-

“So, we’re standing in the middle of the best accommodation’s Oakland PD has to offer, Mia in the jail cell, me on the other side, if you can believe it—” Bishop stops to laugh along with the others gathered around them, much to her chagrin. “And she’s insisting it wasn’t grand theft auto, more like, what did you call it again?”

Mia looks down at the empty beer in her hand and shakes her head. She was such a fearless, stupid kid. What happened? “Mediocre borrow auto, I think it was,” she admits, and more laughter erupts around them.

“Right, and we start screaming at each other, mostly in Spanish, and the fucker who arrested her is laughing at us…” he goes on.

Mia squeezes Bishop’s shoulder as he tells the story. “I’ll be right back, I need a refill,” she mentions, and he nods, but keeps the telling of her past indiscretions.

It’s the day of ‘her’ party, as Bishop calls it. Even though she had met most of the club on the day of her arrival (and the one after it), he wanted a celebration in her honor, so here they are. Multiple bonfires are lit, girls are in every direction, and there’s probably more beer than they can all drink in one night, but she doesn’t want to underestimate the charter. It’s too soon to tell.

She could have gotten a beer at one of the many ice buckets around, but wants away from the crowd, somewhere she can hear her thoughts without loud music or pretending to smile. While she’s happy to be in Santo Padre, it’s a very different environment than the one she’s been living in lately.

Everyone is loud and rambunctious, unashamed and proud, and it’s wonderful, but takes some getting used to. She still finds herself looking over her shoulder every few minutes, biting her tongue to stop herself from saying whatever comment comes to mind, and second-guessing every other move she makes.

Mia knows it will take time to feel at ease in her life again but she’s taking the right steps, at least she thinks so.

As she makes her way into the clubhouse, it’s not empty as hoped.

“Need something?” EZ asks as he stands from the barstool in a hurry.

“Sit, please,” she urges, and he looks hesitant, but listens. “I’m not in the club, you’re not my prospect, I don’t need to be waited on.”

EZ smiles and nods. “I just wanted a few minutes away from…everything.”

Mia goes behind the bar and grabs herself a new beer. “Away from being everyone’s bitch for five minutes?”

“Right in one,” he laughs and they clink their bottles together. “So, you happy to be here, living with your dad?”

“Happy to be here, yes. Happy to be living with Bop, still up in the air,” Mia answers and takes a swig as he chuckles. “Surprisingly, he’s a clean guy, at least in his own way. Everything has its place. He’s a creature of habit and I’m throwing him all off.”

“Why do you call him ‘Bop’ by the way?” he asks.

“Well, when I was little I couldn’t pronounce Bishop, so I settled for Bop and it stuck. He’s my dad in every way besides blood, but calling him that…” she trails off, “felt kind of wrong because my real dad would have been around if he hadn’t died, you know?”

“I get that,” EZ agrees with a nod.

“I was lucky to have him, probably would be dead without him, or worse, like my mother,” she sighs, then takes a long swig.

“Sounds like there is a story there, but I think I’ll keep my questions to myself,” EZ decides a moment later.

“You know, they told me you were smart,” she teases and they both laugh. “So, how are you adjusting to the life? Aside from loving your bitch duties.”

“I do love my bitch duties,” he agrees, and she laughs again. She likes these Reyes boys. “It’s nice to be part of something, to feel like I’m working towards something. Being able to get close to Angel is honestly the best part…it’s easy to take the small shit for granted until you don’t have it anymore. Let’s just say I’m not taking anything for granted ever again.”

“You guys weren’t close before?”

“When we were kids we were best friends, I guess all kids close in age are. We grew up, got interested in different things—girls, sports, friends, and he’s still my brother, of course, but I took it for granted, so did he, I think. You think you’re invincible when you’re young. You think nothing bad will ever happen. It’s okay to skip out on family dinner to be with your girl because there will always be another one. It’s alright to flake on your brother because he’s your brother and you know he’ll get over it eventually. We don’t do that shit anymore. If I make a promise, I keep it. If I tell Pop I’ll stop by and help close up, I do it. If I tell the club I’ll be there when they need me, for whatever they need me for, I am,” he tells her.

“I like the way you think, EZ. I recently went through something that made me remember what’s important in life too. It wasn’t prison, at least, not the kind you went to,” she mumbles, “but still life-altering. There’s nothing more important than family, whether it be blood or the one you’ve chosen.”

“I will cheers to that,” EZ states, and their bottles clink together once more.

“Aye, prospect,” they both hear and turn towards the front door. Angel is walking up, that swagger being used with every step. “You might want to get out there. Coco is trying to set you up in a fight.”

“Of course, he is,” EZ sighs as he stands, and Mia giggles into her beer bottle. “It was nice talking to you, Mia, I hope we can get to know each other more.”

“Back at ya and if you need fixed up after let me know. I am a nurse. An unemployed one, but still,” she offers as he’s walking away.

When he reaches the door EZ turns. “I just might take you up on that. Thanks.”

Angel joins her behind the bar and grabs a beer of his own. “You flirting with my little brother, Flores?” he questions as he twists off the cap to his bottle.

Mia shrugs and tries to look innocent. “Well, I figured I might as well try for the whole set. Is your dad dropping by again later?”

Angel chokes on his beer and Mia laughs as he spits up a little. “Very fucking funny,” he grumbles while reaching for something to wipe his kutte off with.

“I thought so,” she agrees. “So, what are you doing in here? Aren’t you worried your brother is going to get his ass kicked by whatever patch Coco set him up with?”

Angel snorts. “The kid spent eight years in Stockton, he can hold his own. Besides, I hear we have this new nurse hanging around in case he gets in any trouble.”

“Oh really? Lucky guy,” Mia teases before lifting herself onto the bar. There’s a mirror behind it she can see herself in.

Her hair has held up in the somewhat tighter curls she tried for, thanks to the mousse, and her make up is still doing its job of hiding her ever-present eyebags and adding a little pink to her cheeks. The smoky eye is something she hasn’t attempted in a minute, but it’s not half-bad.

Her outfit is something she hasn’t worn in forever, since she lived in Oakland, actually. Jeans that are so tight they are a second skin and high-waisted, with a black top that laces and ties up the back like a corset. Still, a good bit of her stomach is showing, and some cleavage too. Bishop had given her a look back at his house, so a big black sweater was put on over top but has now fallen around her elbows.

“Shouldn’t you be out there enjoying your party?” Angel asks, breaking the objectification of herself.

“My party?” she questions before finishing off her beer and tossing it in the trash.

Angel looks around expectantly. “I’m sorry, isn’t all of this for you, or am I fooling around with the wrong girl?”

Mia shakes her head down at him, or directly at him more like, since at this height she’s in his eye line. “No, this party is for Bishop. We haven’t been on the best terms for a few years, so this is his chance to show me off, get the DILF card, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s more than that,” he tells her. “I’ve known the guy for years and I’ve never seen him smile this much. He’s genuinely happy you’re here, querida.”

Mia smiles down at her hands and picks at her black fingernails. “He is, huh?”

Angel lifts her chin so he can look her in the eye. “Mhm, but if I had a daughter that looked like you, I would not be parading her around in front of these fucks, that’s for damn sure,”

“Is that so?” she asks, her tone lined with laughter. Before she can stop herself, a hand reaches up and caresses his beard before tugging on it playfully.

“Not in those fuckin’ jeans, hell no,” he confirms.

“What’s wrong with my jeans?” she asks as her nails rub the underside of his chin. His beard is softer than it looks, he obviously uses something in it to make it that way, and she wants to tease him for it, but saves the information for later instead.

“I don’t know if you know this, but,” Angel starts and moves to stand between her legs, even pulling her a little closer by the backs of her knees, “if you put a quarter in your back pocket, I bet you could tell if it was heads or tails. That’s how tight they are on your ass.”

“You been starin’ at my ass, Reyes?” she questions with another light tug on his beard.

“Um, yeah,” he answers easily, and his face looks so ‘duh!’ that she can’t stop the laughter from bubbling up her throat. “Among other things,” he adds on, then takes another sip of his beer.

“It’s nice to know it’s being appreciated,” she whispers with both her hands cupping his cheeks now, and her forehead leans forward to rest on his.

“Among other things,” he repeats softly before nipping at her lips with his. It’s gentle and slow, pretty much the opposite of their encounter the other night.

“You know, I think I figured out how to make it up to you,” she murmurs when they pull away.

“Oh, yeah?”

Mia nods as a hand slips inside his shirt to scratch at his happy trail. “I know it sounds simple, but hear me out,” she whispers, to which he nods. “I can suck your dick.”

“That’s it, huh?” he asks with hands sliding up and down her thighs.

“Oh, but I’m really good at it,” she assures him, and he chuckles against her mouth. “Wanna see?”

Angel just nods and kisses her.

After a few moments Mia pushes him away and hops down off the bar. “C’mon,” she urges as she takes his hand and leads him down the hall towards the kitchen but enters the storage room instead.

“Really?” he questions and flicks on the light above them.

“What? You think you earned fucking me at the table where you hold Templo? Uh-uh,” she says while undoing his jeans and letting her sweater fall off in the process. “Besides, who says you get to fuck me? All I agreed to was sucking your dick.”

Angel grins at that and pulls her into a kiss that includes tongue and teeth and makes her feel dirty in the best way. “We’ll see about that,” he mumbles when they pull away.

“I guess we will,” she agrees and pushes his boxers down until his hard-on springs free. “I’m sure you heard this before, and I hate to boost your ego, but it has to be said,” she starts as her hand wraps around it and pulls just enough to make him sigh. “You really do have a nice dick.”

“I’ll keep that in mind—shit,” he swears when she drops to her knees and wastes no time taking him into her mouth. “Fuck.”

His hands thread into her hair and take hold to keep her in place. She’s able to take a large part of him into her mouth before he triggers her gag reflex and he moans at the flutter of the back of her throat.

She hums as her head bobs, one hand on the base of his cock, the other paying attention to his balls, softly massaging them with her fingertips. When his hands tighten on her scalp she pulls away from him, making a loud smacking sound with her lips.

“No, back,” Angel whines from above her and tries to maneuver her mouth back onto his cock, but she resists.

Instead, she pumps him with her one hand while her tongue swirls and plays with his tip. His hips buck and she can practically feel his impatience. Enjoying this side of him, Mia continues to tease. Her tongue curls and sweeps up and down the sides of his cock, her mouth even moving to suck on his balls lightly. They tighten against her tongue and she giggles a little—Angel Reyes likes his balls played with.

Before she can go on one of his hands pulls on her hair, the other lifting her from the armpit so she’s standing again and his lips are on hers, completely taking control of the situation until she’s the one backed against the wall and he’s attempting to undo her jeans.

“No, no, no,” Mia breathes, pushing on his chest, leaving him heaving in front of her. “I promised to make it up to you, remember? You’re finishing in my mouth, bebé.”

Angel shakes his head and crowds her against the wall, his lips hovering over hers. “I want to turn you around and take you right here, right now, mi dulce.”

“As lovely as that sounds,” Mia murmurs as her nose brushes against his, “I keep my promises. It’s my mouth or nothing, you choose.”

He leans down and kisses her roughly, biting at her lip in frustration. “On your knees, then.”

Mia grins, puckering her lips to kiss him once more before getting back into position. Pre-cum is leaking from his tip and she knows he’s close, even after their little intermission. She makes a show of licking it up and Angel groans while pressing his palms into the wall behind her, his hands threatening to turn into fists.

She takes him into her mouth after pumping him a few times, and he surprises her by bucking into her, triggering her gag reflex before she’s quite ready. A hand grabs onto her head, keeping her there, and she lets it happen even though it makes her eyes water. It only goes on for a moment before he’s emptying himself into her mouth and she opens her throat instinctually to swallow.

“Jesus Christ,” Angel huffs as he lets her go, his eyes closed and his face looking completely blissed out.

Mia wipes her mouth and picks up her sweater as she stands. “Told you I was good at it.”

He grins now, his eyes fluttering open. “Yes, you did,” he mumbles before kissing her and it shocks her a little, especially when he uses tongue because Jay never did that after she blew him, he didn’t like it. Of course, it didn’t happen regularly because the guy had a problem coming too quickly with even small amounts of foreplay.

Mia pushes the thought of her ex out of her head and lets Angel kiss her. It’s slow and drawn out, and his tongue is doing things that she wants recreated between her thighs. She forgot what it’s like to just be kissed, kissed really fucking well.

This guy cannot be fucking real.

“Well, I believe my job here is done,” she breathes after literally forcing herself away from him.

“Mine’s not,” Angel insists and tries to pull her back into his arms.

“That, my friend, is your problem,” she tells him while reaching for the doorknob.

“Seriously?” he asks and she bites her lip to keep from laughing at the sight of him. His pants are still pushed down below his ass, his dick is getting hard again, and he looks like a child who just got taken his favorite toy taken away.

“Weren’t you the one saying I have a party to get back to?” she questions and leaves before he does something to change her mind.

She stops in the bathroom to look herself over. Her lips are a little swollen, but not very noticeable, and she flips her hair a couple times so it’s not so apparent Angel’s fingers were in it. When she comes back to the bar, EZ is back, and Coco is there too, but no Angel.

“Wow, done already?” she asks as she reaches for what will probably be her last beer.

“It wasn’t really a fight,” EZ explains as Coco laughs. “He was pretty drunk. I tried to tell him it wasn’t a good idea.”

“Boy Scout threw one punch and knocked the fucker out,” Coco tells her. “He’s still laying in the cage.”

“I didn’t knock him out, I think he passed out on his own,” EZ insists. “I was wondering if you’d check him out though. We tried to wake him up and didn’t have much luck.”

“Sure thing,” Mia agrees and starts to follow EZ when Angel comes out from the back hallway. “We probably shouldn’t leave him there if he’s that drunk anyways.”

“Bro, you fucking missed it. Baby brother knocked someone the fuck out,” Coco boasts.

“I didn’t… never mind, c’mon,” EZ sighs and leads her out of the clubhouse.

Less people are milling around. She assumes quite a few either are sleeping it off somewhere, or a group headed back to Vicki’s for a whole different kind of fun.

“Hey, grab that,” Mia instructs EZ as they pass an empty ice bucket. He doesn’t question, just grabs it, and she thinks again, she really likes these Reyes boys.

He’s an older Mayan, the one passed out in the middle of the cage, and he’s snoring. He’s one of the guy’s riding through the area and stopped for the party. She opens his lids to check his pupils and shines her cellphone light in them—it’s so nice having a smart phone again, she thinks.

“Hey, Bop, this guy volatile?” she calls when she sees her godfather watching.

“No more than anyone else,” he answers with a shrug.

Mia nods and stands, the beer still in her hand. “Alright, EZ, pour it,” she instructs. A group has gathered to watch the show and EZ, once again, does as he’s told.

He wakes up screaming in Spanish and swinging at the both of them.

“Hey, watch it,” EZ threatens and pushes Mia behind him a little.

“The fuck was that for?” the man yells.

Mia crouches down to look at him. “If you would have rathered stay here and choke on your own puke and die all you had to do was say so,” she says sweetly.

“Get dressed and sleep it off in the clubhouse,” Bishop instructs the man, who still looks very grumpy.

“…definitely his fucking kid,” she hears him say as they exit the cage and she shakes her head, but is smiling all the same. She’ll never be offended by that statement again.

A few minutes later she finds herself away from everyone, nursing her beer, and looking up at the sky. There’s so much to see away from the lights of cities and pollution. All these stars aren’t visible in San Francisco, or even in Oakland. Everything is clearer out here, less complicated, and exactly as it seems.

“Hey,” someone greets from behind her causing her to jump and drop her beer. “Shit, sorry,” Bishop apologizes and picks it up for her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, just lost in my own head,” she attempts to laugh and takes the near-empty bottle from him. “What’s up?”

“You have a good time?” he asks, and Angel’s right, he hasn’t stopped smiling since she got here.

“A great time,” she confirms and looks up at the sky again. “It’s beautiful out here at night. There’s so many stars.”

Bishop looks up with her as an arm wraps around her shoulders. “I never really noticed before.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop noticing,” she murmurs.

“How much did you have to drink?” he questions and she smacks him on the stomach, and he laughs. “Listen, I don’t want you hanging around attempting to clean up after your own party. I asked around, Angel said he’d give you a ride home if that’s okay with you?”

“He did, did he?” Mia laughs and nods. “Yeah, that’s fine. But I’m happy to hang out and—”

“No, pequeña,” Bishop cuts her off. “We got this.”

“By ‘we’ you mean EZ?” she jokes and he laughs too.

“Something like that,” he replies. “I have a few things to take care of here, but I’ll be home in a few hours.”

They start walking back towards the clubhouse. “A few things to take care of, huh? Is that what they are calling it nowadays?”

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious, you know that?” he tells her and bumps into her shoulder with his.

“Anyone I need to give a talking to? Let them know how awesome you are and that I’ll kick their ass if—ah!” she squeals when he tickles her.

“Enough, Mia Valentina,” he states, and she laughs loudly.

“Yes, sir, Obispo, sir,” she goes on with a salute and all.

“Alright, Angel, get her home, will you? She needs to sleep it off,” Bishop calls over and it’s only now she notices they are near their line of bikes and Angel is already on his with a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“Will do, jefe,” the younger patch promises.

“Hey, I am not drunk,” she assures him as he kisses her cheek. “I’m not, I’m just in a good mood. Am I not allowed to be?”

“Yeah, just do it somewhere else,” Bishop tells her and she opens her mouth in fake shock. “Grab your helmet from my bike, don’t make him give his up, you know how I am about helmets.”

“Wow, I think you just lost about ten cool points,” Mia mumbles, but does as she’s told.

“There is nothing cool about splitting open your skull on the side of the road,” Bishop says in a firm tone.

“You really have a lot of confidence in my ride home, don’t you? You sure I shouldn’t pick a different one? Gilly, maybe? Or EZ?” she suggests while fastening the helmet to her head. “Oh, what about Coco, I’m sure he could show me a good time.”

“On the bike, Mia,” Bishop practically orders.

Mia grins. She missed teasing him. She’s one of the few who get away with it. “Fine, geez, if you’re gonna make me,” she sighs as she swings her leg over the bike and settles behind Angel.

“Make sure she gets in the house,” Bishop tells Angel. “And Mia, lock the door behind you, both bolts—”

“The cool points are dropping by the second,” Mia sing-songs and can feel Angel chuckling in front of her.

Bishop decides to ignore her and instead does that manly handshake they do. “Thanks for this. Safe ride home, brother.”

“Back at you, brother,” Angel responds as he kicks the engine over as he grabs ahold of the handlebars.

“So, I hear you selflessly volunteered to drive me home.”

“Well, I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” Angel assures her.

“Hm, I’ll be the judge of that,” she whispers in his ear and he revs the engine as they make their way out onto the road.

It might be the alcohol, or maybe the easy relationship her and Bishop seem to be falling back into, or even the anticipation of the sex she knows is going to happen again with Angel, but Mia feels happy.

It’s funny, the weightlessness of it, how her body is responding to it and making her giddy.

She knows that it’s fleeting—when she goes to bed bad memories will plague her dreams, she and Bishop will continue to not talk about her mother, that little voice in the back of her head will make her wonder what Jay is doing, how hard he’s looking for her, if he’ll ever find her.

But for now she gives in to the alcohol, the love she has for the man who raised her, and the growing affection for the man driving her home.

Mia gets caught up in watching the lights speeding by, reminding her of shooting stars in the sky, of the endless possibilities she has if she can stay hidden and keep her secrets. She doesn’t even notice they are slowing down until they are at a complete stop.

“What’s wrong?” she asks over the low rumble of his motorcycle.

“I don’t know about you, mi dulce, but I always stop at stop signs,” he insists.

She rolls her eyes at him. “Ha-ha, this is more than a stop sign, where are we going?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you,” he replies, his head turned back to look at her. “We go straight, I take you home. We turn left we pass my apartment and take the long way. Your pick, querida.”

“Your apartment, huh?” she asks and squeezes his middle. “You think we’re there, yet? Going from a bathroom, to a storage closet, to your bed is a pretty big jump, don’t you think?” she teases. “I don’t know if we’re ready for that step yet.”

Angel’s mouth curls up into a smirk. “Believe it or not, I got a lot of fucking surfaces at my place if you think the bed is too much of a commitment for you.”

Mia lets out a loud laugh. “Fucking surfaces, huh? Nice choice of words.”

He revs the bike’s engine. “Waiting on you.”

Mia leans in closer to his ear. “Turn left. I want the scenic route,” she whispers. She feels his chest rumble as he chuckles but takes off without another word.

A few minutes later they are pulling into a sprawling apartment complex and Angel parks in the very last spot on the end marked with a letter and number, she assumes his assigned parking spot.

“Not bad, any of the other guys live here?” she asks as they get off the bike and undo their helmets.

“Why, wanna make a house call?” Angel counters, and she tosses her helmet at him, hitting him square in the stomach. “Oof, feisty.”

“I’ll show you feisty,” she mutters with her arms crossed in fake anger.

“Not tonight you won’t,” he tells her before bending down and maneuvering her body over his shoulder.

“Ah! Angel!” she exclaims, holding onto his hips for balance.

“You had your fun earlier, I’m in charge now,” he warns with a smack to her ass.

“Watch my head,” she pleads, the amusement in her voice obvious, as he walks up the steps to his second-floor apartment. “I don’t want to ruin the mood with a concussion.”

“Haven’t you learned by now? You’re safe with me, querida,” he assures her while unlocking his door. He kicks it shut behind them before setting her back on the ground.

“Whew, head rush,” she breathes and flips her head until her hair is out of her eyes.

Looking to Angel she finds he’s already taking off his kutte and it reveals a concealed gun holster underneath. He quickly does away with that too, dropping it on the table next to the door for now. She tries not to be turned on by the sight of him with a gun but fails miserably.

Having grown up around guns, they don’t scare her—in fact, Bishop taught her how to use one at thirteen years old right before her first “real” date. If she remembers correctly, he also gave her an expensive looking pocketknife around then, telling her that if she’s ever attacked to stick it in her assailant’s gut and twist.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she speaks up a moment later as he stares down at her during the silence. “You’re in charge remember? I’m just waiting to be told what to do.”

Angel shakes his head at her. “You know exactly what to do, you taught me that earlier, remember?”

“I left an impression, huh?” she jokes while slowly undoing that buttons to his shirt, but instead of the bare chest she wants, it’s a wife beater underneath.

“Oh, long before that,” he assures her, making her smile to herself and push the button-up down his shoulders.

Soon after she’s lifting the tank top and he takes the hint, tossing it aside all together. “There it is,” she breathes, smiling at the sight of his chest. Her fingertips instantly reach forward to play with his happy trail, lightly scratching down until they hit the button of his jeans.

Before she can continue Angel twists her hips so her back is to him and starts to untie the laces going up her spine. When it’s loose enough she raises her arms so he can take it off her altogether.

“I’m in charge, remember?” he whispers in her ear as he moves all her hair to one shoulder so his face can nuzzle in the other.

“If you say so,” she sighs contentedly, her head falling to one side to give him more room. His lips travel along her shoulder and neck, kissing lightly, his beard tickling her just so.

Her entire body jerks when his hands take ahold of her breasts, pinching her nipples between his thumb and pointer fingers. “Didn’t get a change to pay attention to these the other night,” he says in a husky tone that makes her knees weak.

“What a shame,” Mia breathes and before she knows it Angel is scooping her up in his arms and dropping her on his couch none too gently.

“The couch okay? Or you think we should take this to the kitchen table?” he asks as he towers over her. “Don’t wanna skip too many fucking steps.”

Mia grins and takes off her shoes, socks included, before shrugging. “You’re in charge, remember?” she counters, being a brat and she’s fully aware of it. “Your call, papi.”

Angel licks his lips as he looks down at her, his dick obviously hard in his jeans, the area becoming so tight it looks uncomfortable. Mia lifts a foot and starts to rub the bulge slowly, teasingly. “As lovely as this view is, and feels,” he says as he takes ahold of her foot to stop her, “I have some payback to do.”

“Payback?” Mia questions and lifts her hips as he pulls on her jeans. “I owed you, remember?”

He does that licking his lips thing again as if he knows it’s driving her fucking nuts. “Mhm and leaving me there like that means now I owe you,” he says and slips her underwear down her legs too.

Angel lifts both her legs up in the air and wastes no time licking all the way up her swollen pink slit. “Fuck,” Mia pants, her toes curling as it feels like he’s devouring her.

Just as she feels her pleasure building, he pulls away causing her to whine. It’s faint, but he hears it, and grins down at her as he wipes her juices from his beard. “Up on your knees, face the other way,” he orders and on with shaky limbs she does as she’s told.

She hears movement behind her but doesn’t look back. Suddenly her knees are being spread apart and she feels his head settle between them. “Shit,” she breathes as he positions her opening over his mouth.

Maybe it’s the lack of foreplay in the last two years or any real pleasure actually, but even if she had been getting off more than just to her own vibrator, Mia thinks Angel has a gift. He knows how to eat a woman out. It’s like he’s showing her how good he is at it because of how she teased him earlier.

And she’s starting to regret it.

As his tongue licks and flicks at her clit Mia grips onto the arm of the couch, her nails digging in. “Right there, like that,” she chants and curls over the arm, and honestly considers grinding down on his face and cutting off his air supply. He’s so good she thinks he really might have some sort of gills.

She’s so close and it feels so good the muscles in her legs start shaking in need.

“Please, I need…” she trails off when she feels him shake his head at her request. “Yes, I can’t,” she stops when his tongue leaves her clit altogether and instead sweeps up inside her. “No, no, no,” she cries and before she even knows what she’s doing she’s off his face, off the couch, and on the floor crawling away from him.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?’ she hears above her and she just shakes her head with her eyes closed.

“I just need a minute,” she whispers, her body curling into a ball with her legs crossed to ease the ache.

“Here’s how this is going to play out,” Angel says, and she opens her eyes to see him dropping his pants and rubbing his own hard-on. The sight doesn’t help her situation any. “You’re going to come on my mouth first, or not at all.”

Her own words from earlier echo in her head and she curses herself.

“Your call,” he repeats her words once more.

Mia lets out a shaky breath and opens her legs to him. As he descends upon her she thinks that if he licks his lips one more time she’s going to slap him. Still, when those same lips pucker around her clit she threads her finger into his hair to keep him there.

He doesn’t tease much this time, because he probably knows she’s close to either hitting him or finishing the job herself if he doesn’t.

It’s at the exact moment he begins to hum with her clit in his mouth that she comes, and she comes hard. Her legs start to shake, fingers rattle along his hairline, and her eyes squeeze closed as he flicks at her nub through the entirety of it.

When he finally pulls away, Mia curls into herself once again and crosses one leg over the other. “Evil,” she manages to mumble.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” she hears him say before she’s being put back onto the couch belly down. “I got plans for you, mi dulce.”

“Not to purposefully play on words, but I’m screwed,” she sighs and feels his lips ghost up her spine as he chuckles.

“Yes, you are,” Angel agrees while lifting her hips until she’s on all fours.

“Can’t wait,” she replies and moans when he slides two fingers into her, curling just so. They exit her as quickly as they enter, but before she can complain about it his fingers are replaced with his cock in one swift movement. “Oh, my God, holy shit.”

Mia moves back and forth, up and down, noises exiting her throat every time he’s completely sheathed inside her, filling her up. He’s mumbling something in in Spanish, but she can’t make out what.

Angel grips her hips when her moves become frantic, taking control with his dick deep inside her. “Sh, baby, I got you,” he promises as a hand wraps around her throat and his lips kiss at her temple.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she swears and holds onto the arm of the couch until her knuckles turn white. “Angel,” she moans, her voice low and needy.

“C’mere,” he murmurs and turns her head until their lips connect.

“Oh, my God,” she breaks the kiss in a moan and drops her head down to bury it in the cushions.

Angel pulls out of her and situates them so her legs are in between his and she’s lying flat. Mia pushes up on her hips so he can slide into her more easily and he does without warning. “Fuck,” he groans as he slides into the tight hole.

Mia sits up just enough so she can shake her ass in a way that’s proven successful in the past, but she only does it for a few moments before Angel takes over, leaning down over her and fucks her even deeper, making her cry out so loud she bites a cushion to stiffle it.

“You like that?” he questions in her ear and she nods into the cotton she’s still biting. “I wanna hear you, querida,” he urges, using his hand to pull up on her throat and let go of the cushion. He continues his movements and she tries to keep in her shrieks, but it’s not easy. He’s hitting a spot that’s only been felt once or twice before in happy accidents, but Angel’s not holding back.

“If you don’t… I’m gonna—” she manages between thrusts and cries.

“Do it,” he tells her and speeds up. “You have any idea what it feels like when you come on my cock, baby?” he asks as she feels herself start to spasm. “Your pussy—fuck,” he stops as she starts to come. “Just like that. Your pussy is so tight, and when you come your whole fucking body shakes, your pussy included.”

He let’s up when she screams, unable to hold back and her entire body sags, but he’s right, she is shaking. When her body settles Angel pulls out of her and she notices he’s still hard—he hasn’t come yet.

Seriously, he isn’t fucking real.

Mia flips over, still in between his legs, and finds him stroking himself above her. “I know, I know, you’re not done with me,” she sighs and he chuckles. “But a girl needs a minute to recuperate.”

“You want me to be done?” Angel questions while opening her legs and resting them on his hips.

“Fuck no,” she answers easily and links her fingers through his, pulling until he’s on top of her and presses her lips against his. “Now, fuck me deep and slow and don’t stop until you come too.”

Angel smiles against her mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”

CHAPTER 3

taglist:

@joalsglasses

@mrsamaroevans

@justahopelessssromantic

#angel reyes #mayans mc #mayans m.c.#angel reyes x oc #fanfiction #clayton cardenas #ao3 link #friends can break your heart too

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beecherdrysdale · 3 years

Note

Haha yes!! I trust you to go first! By the time you and Dylan land in the water I’ll get over my fear and force Jamie to jump w me lol. Ooo I feel like quinton and ryan would jump after? I just have that feeling. I’m can’t do any tricks but I would be in awe of you doing them!.

Aw thanks, but all in all it was a pretty toxic friend group and I’m glad that we are done :). I’m just focusing on sports and school. Oo I love sending you asks! You always respond and go along with my weird scenarios hehe. I’m glad we are connecting and becoming friends! You understand sports 💗 we be connecting real good w the team☺️

Pfffff is it weird that can imagine that?! Just us being chaotic and laughing at each other. Haha somebody walking by would be so confused. Just an entire hockey team and two girls(honestly it’s kind of a flex lol) . It’s probably easier to skate backward on ice hehe but it would be crazy if we did that on rollerblades but I think everyone would try?. I would probably land on my ass hehe and then one of them would land on me.

Yesss you tripping and pulling dyl down w you! Aw the hand holding 🥺 not gonna lie I would probably tease you lol .

Awww that’s nice that they let you in. I have no ice cream place near my house 😭 what’s your fav ice cream flavour. Also did u see the photo of Trevor Zegras, is he in Jamie’s jacket? It looks exactly like his?.

Ooo we would totally rock the gym hehe. I love working out, it makes me happy and I get to badly music. It would be sm fun to workout w them! Like if any of them asked me I would gladly join! I know, we have the same music taste, I was happy when they said they were playing 2000’s music! I vibe with that.

I can totally see you teaching them to swim and then racing w them! I’ll swim and then take photos hehe.

What other vacay activity would you do w them ? I was thinking abt going clubbing or just exploring the nightlife ?

Aww that sucks that she didn’t let you lol 😆

true i get those vibes from quinton and ryan, idk why. they just seem like once they saw a couple people in the water they would definitely go for it. and honestly to do tricks you kind of just have to go for it. like the first time you try to do a flip it’s lowkey really scary but then once you realize you aren’t gonna get hurt it’s really fun and then you can just practice your technique lol

i’m glad that you got out of your toxic friend group and are focusing on school and sports :) they’re both super important even tho i sometimes don’t act like it lol. i love your asks sm and i’m super happy that we’re becoming friends. and i feel like both our personalities would connect super well with the team☺️

yesss people walking by would be so confused lmaooo, but we would just be flexing on them hanging out with the team canada boys. and yes skating backwards is way harder on rollerblades and also slightly terrifying if you’re going downhill. and also because there are usually like rocks and stuff on the ground that you don’t really see. so yeah dyl would definitely be coming down with me, but it’s fine. also it’s fine you can make fun of me lol, all me irl friends do bc i injure myself all the time. one time i slipped and fell down an entire flight of stairs at school and my friend just goes “it’s brigid she’ll be fine” lmaoo

yeah i honestly expected them to not let me in bc i didn’t have shoes, but at the same time it was during covid (so you couldn’t eat inside anyways) and i think they needed the business. that sucks that you don’t have an ice cream place near you, the one i went to was like 1.5 miles from my house so not super close but not too far. my favorite flavor would either be something with chocolate and cherry or something with peanut butter and chocolate, hbu?

yeah i saw the picture, trevor was wearing jamie’s jacket. it’s because they both came right from wjc, and the usa boys didn’t have to bring suits so trevor didn’t have a jacket lol. so then he had to borrow jamie’s when he got called up to anaheim

yesss i love working out with guys, whenever we have to work out for swim team i always go with the guys. especially when we lift bc the other girls do like 10 lb olympic lifts and i’m doing like 90 lbs with the guys lol. and yes i vibe with their music sm, i feel like they would have the best workout playlist tbh

and yes that would be sm fun to teach them how to swim. i would love to see them try do flipturns and swim fly 😂 and then racing them and they’d be like you have an unfair advantage even tho i’m doing fly and they’re doing free lol, just flexing on them. and yeah i was really sad when my soccer coach said no bc it would have been so funny to watch everyone try to do my sets lmao

i think it would be really fun to go hiking or go to an amusement park with them. that would be like the most chaotic hike ever lol but it would be really fun, and then going on all the roller coasters with them. and i bet at least one of them is secretly afraid of roller coasters but doesn’t want to say anything so they don’t get chirped lol. but it would also be super fun to go clubbing with them (we’ll ignore the fact that i’m not old enough lol) like they just seem like they would be a really fun group to go drinking with you know?

#ask answered #anon answered #skating anon

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newtafterdark · 4 years

Text

Taste of Metal - Chapter 5: Reality Check

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/64305886

Summary: What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him?

But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the "Metalhead Gordon AU"

PS: This is the E-Bass mentioned in this chapter. !t’s a real beauty, honestly!

- - -

It took Gordon a while to return to the others. For one, he always kind of zoned out for a bit when having a bath… and additionally, the reality of what had happened to him in the past few hours (or days? He wasn’t entirely sure and that unnerved him to no end-) had slowly started to sink in as well.

Zoning in and out of what was his reality now screwed heavily with his perception of the passage of time… and if getting his leg stuck while trying to slip into his comfort PJs and almost falling on his face added a few extra minutes… then that was between him and his checkered bathroom mat.

He rubbed the fabric of his dark floral-print pants between his thumb and pointer finger. It was a comfort thing. Always had been. Just something to help him stay in the moment with the help of adding the sense of touch when everything else was a tad clouded.

His still very much wounded arm was pressed lightly against his chest, the smooth fabric of the worn Nine-Inch-Nails shirt adding another layer of comfort to his current self-care choices.

Gordon hoped the Science Team would not question his comfort outfit… too much. It was just what he needed right now, as silly as the combo of rose-patterned pants & band merch might be.

His long hair was a mess as well. Yes, he had managed to get it clean and untangled most of the messy strands… but man, it was apparent that he needed to fix his undercut sometime. Right now though, he’d just have to deal with the state of his messy (and now also very fluffy post-hand-dryer) mane. Being able to run his fingers through it again and fluffing it up a bit further in the process... was a very nice thing though.

Gordon didn’t really look at anyone when he exited the bathroom and made his way to the couch- only to settle down on the floor, his back leaning against the front of the couch. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Do you- Do you feel a bit better now, G-Gordon?”, he heard Tommy ask from a few feet away. Gordon managed a soft smile and a nod in affirmation.

“I… yeah, I do. I am exhausted to all hell and back but… yeah. I think I’m actually here... if that makes sense. Don't feel as removed anymore. So… uh… thanks. Everyone.”

He lifted his head carefully, giving himself the time to catch a glimpse of each Science Team member in the room. G-Man must still be around as well, as the man’s ominous briefcase was still leaning against a nearby wall.

The silence that followed was not one of comfort, Gordon could tell. There was an aura of unease and worry in the air. Even from Benrey, who had been seemingly calm previously.

“Guys, I… I still have a lot of questions, not gonna lie. But… first I do want to thank whoever sweetvoice’d my stump. I… I don’t know how to react to my arm actually being gone and frankly….. I am actually freaking out slowly but surely… but still… thanks. Hurts less and all that.”

Gordon jumped a bit as a high pitched noise escaped Benrey, followed by a hiccup and the guard trying to sink further into the bean chair he was sitting in.

“Dude, you don’t have to swallow your Sweet Voice around here. I am way past freaking out about it, believe me.”, Gordon assured him, followed by a short laugh- “It’s actually nice. And helpful. I can fully admit that now, honestly.”

Benrey let out an orb of pink Sweet Voice at that.

“Glad it- that it helps, man. Wasn’t sure if it would... now that we’re all here in... uh, in person.”

Gordon lifted his injured arm carefully, looking the wound over.

“I still have no idea how it works… but yeah, it does help a lot. Again, thanks.”

“Welcome.”

…

Another moment of awkward silence was beginning to start when Bubby suddenly stood up-

“Can we stop with the sulking? Seriously?! We’re OUT! FINALLY! We should be going outside and having the time of our lives-”

“Uh-”, Gordon suddenly looked very alarmed-

“-steal a car! Go on a real goddamn road trip-”

“Bubby-”

“What?!”, the tall man almost hissed out, immediately regretting raising his voice as Gordon curled up a bit into himself at the noise- “M-My apologies. But you get my point, don’t you?!”

Gordon nodded at that, despite shaking a bit.

“I absolutely do! Hearing that you guys were legit locked up for god-knows how long… I would want nothing more than wanting to go outside and explore this world if I’d be in your shoes! It’s just... how aware are you guys of what has been going on on the surface for the past 10 years? Do you… do you guys even know what year it actually is?”

Tommy perked up at that-

“It’s 2020! Not all of us had a good grasp on time, but my dad and I do!”

“Me as well, Gordon!”, Dr Coomer added with a smile- “As much as we as a group had our jokes about Wikipedia, it was basically our only window to the world outside for a very long time. So thanks to it we do know about a lot of things… in theory.”

Gordon let out a short sigh of relief.

“O-Okay, that’s actually good to know- I mean, it sucks that that was all you guys had! But… at least we don’t have to start on nothing.”

“We’ll be perfectly fine dealing with the outside world, thank you very much!”, Bubby threw in, arms crossed.

Dr Coomer reached over and put a hand on Bubby's shoulder-

“Bubby, dear, I can still see us getting overwhelmed with it though. It might not be all new for me, but it is for you! And for Benrey as well. Do trust me that we all need to take this slow.”

Gordon slowly sat up, actually deciding to move up onto the couch, pulling one of his legs under him while stretching the other out.

“Guys… if you want, you all can stay here as long as you want.”, he said, earning himself a collection of surprised looks from everyone- “I know my place is small but… you saved my ass. I want to at least try to even that out by letting you stay for as long as you need.”

He ran his intact hand through his hair again, a few strands falling over his right eye.

“And I know G-Man said not to worry about what Black Mesa might do with you all on the loose now… but honestly, I will sleep better knowing you all are closeby and not in imminent danger. Call me selfish, but I’ve grown to like you guys. And I do care for your chaotic asses.”

Gordon went on, grateful for the patient silence the team graced him with at the moment-

“I need to be upfront about this and not bottle this shit up, so let me be absolutely clear: The shit that happened in the simulation? I do not hold that against any of you. Knowing the context of that whole thing… yeah, it was horrid, not gonna lie- but we all ran on fumes… b-but it was also kinda… cool?”, he added with a nervous chuckle.

“Like, how you all tweaked the code in small ways? It added up to such a chaotic mess that was hella stressful… but really fun to experience too? Like- Benrey!”

“Huh whu-?!”, the guard in question sat up in the beanbag, eyes wide.

“Your no-clipping for bits? Your entire goddamn boss fight?! It was terrifying and So. Fucking. COOL!”, Gordon explained, wildly motioning around with his intact hand and then looking at the others in the room one after the other- “Look, I didn’t really know what you guys’ deal was, along with this being a professional job, so I didn’t really get to talk about all the stuff I get excited about but MAN!!”

The entire gang turned at the sudden sound of a low chuckle coming from the doorframe to the kitchen. G-Man was leaning against it, a soft smile on his lips.

“I… am glad that it wasn’t as traumatizing for you as it could have been, Mister Freeman. I take it, you are quite comfortable with the themes you saw in the simulation, yes?”

He motioned at the walls of Gordon’s living room, causing the man in question to blush and curl up a bit into himself. The Science Team exchanged a few confused glances before taking the opportunity to actually take in Gordon’s apartment properly.

“Look guys, I-”, Gordon started in a slightly defensive tone, before suddenly getting stopped by Benrey’s hand on his chest. Gordon snapped his head up, staring at the guard- whose whole attention was focused entirely on taking in the apartment's aesthetic.

The furniture around them was a wild collection of thrifted items. Wear and tear showed on the dark wooden table and on the clunky shelves on the walls.

Several big moving boxes sat in the corners, stacked on top of each other. It looked as if they hadn’t been moved in months, as if Gordon had not bothered opening them after moving into the place whenever ago.

The couch, beanbag chair and the two additional armchairs had several patches messily stitched onto them. A dresser to the side had been painted with various spray paints… and had a ton of smaller tags written on it with dripping pens at some point.

All his was the base… but what left the team staring with wide eyes were the small decorations of the place. The walls were absolutely plastered with band posters. And not the kind they would have expected from Gordon-

Countless of them had hard-to-read fonts on them, flames, lightning… and the number of bones and skeletons were honestly a bit overwhelming. Especially Benrey, who was now letting out a constant stream of excited-sounding Sweet Voice.

The skeleton theme actually continued with the other decorations around the room as well. Several different skull-themed items sat on the shelves, really putting the room together. And not cheap-looking stuff either! Some of them had a metal finish, others were carved out of wood and a rather big amethyst skull divided Gordon’s decently-sized DVD and Video Game collection.

There was what could only be described as faux-taxidermy all over the place as well. Small bottles labelled with things like “void eyes” and “dragon blood” instantly drew Darnold’s attention.

Dr Coomer ended up walking up to the wall-mounted dragon head with a colour-changing skull in its mouth and just gave it an approving nod.

Bubby, however, was still scanning the band posters until- “GORDON?!”

“Y-Yeah? Wha-”

“YOU PLAY ELECTRIC BASS??? AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?”

Gordon grinned and got up, walking over to where Bubby was standing.

“Oh yeah! That’s my old Fender! Haven’t touched that babe in a good while… probably needs a bit of re-tuning, now that I think about it...”

Bubby shot him a look-

“I repeat: you play e-bass???”

Gordon let out a warm laugh.

“Yeah! Sometimes guitar too, electric and acoustic. Just haven’t really had a reason to in a while.”

A pained expression suddenly appeared on Gordon’s face. “Not like I will again anytime soon, you know?”, he added, lifting his stump.

Bubby waved him off.

“Oh please. Harold told you he has a plan to get that “fixed”. Trust him on that. He doesn’t break his promises. And his work is extremely high-quality and responsive. You will be able to play again with no issue.”

Before Gordon could reply to that, he suddenly felt a hand on his healthy arm, only to find Dr Coomer right beside him.

“Indeed, Gordon! You will have a proper prosthetic arm in no time! Well… I hate to admit that the entire process will probably take at least a full week.”

“Oh! T-That’s still extremely fast! I… I don’t even know how to thank you for that, Dr Coomer. Do you need any specific tools? I think my computer building tools should be around here somewhere-”, Gordon rambled on, only to be stopped by Coomer’s laugh.

“Oh Gordon, don’t worry! I’ll be able to find everything I need with ease! Most of it I already have! I plan on stripping your VR Suit for parts, you see!”, the older scientist explained to him- “You go sit down and let yourself relax and heal. Which is something that needs to happen before I can even think about fitting the prosthetic properly to your arm anyway! I am sure Benrey’s Heal Beam will be of much-needed assistance with that in the following days!”

A loud “HELL YEEEEAH” was heard from the other side of the room.

Gordon chuckled.

“Alright then- uh…. Do you guys want some snacks and get comfy? I think I still have-”

“Mister Freeman… I took it upon me... to get that covered. I hope you don’t mind too much.”

G-Man walked into the living room with a big baking dish and wearing Gordon’s flame-print oven mitts.

“G, my good man, you will never hear me complaining about such perfectly baked Mac’n’Cheese- oh shit, is that sliced ham in there too?”, Gordon stared at the perfectly brown cheese layer on top- “… yeah, you are allowed and encouraged to cook whatever and whenever you feel like it while you’re in my four walls, holy shit.”

“Ah… thank you for the high praise Mister Freeman, but-”

Gordon shot G-Man an unimpressed look, which startled the taller man a bit-

“Alright, Rule Numero Uno of Hotel Gordon: You will be complimented here and you will take it. That goes for everyone here. Yeah, sometimes we will get salty over things, as we have before… but guys, here comes a fun IRL fact about me: I am aggressively supportive.”

“G-Gordon, I am not sure that is needed-”, Tommy stammered out, only for him to slightly freeze as Gordon turned towards him with an intense stare-

“Oh? Wanna test me? Think I won’t say that I still deeply appreciate how you selflessly dragged my sorry ass along when I was too weak to walk on my own? That you had my back in ways that I will be in debt for until the end of my life? You sure??? Absolutely sure?”, Gordon said, grinning and pointing a finger at Tommy… who was now hiding his face behind his hands, letting out a soft “buuuuuuh” sound, followed by a flustered laugh.

Gordon looked at all of the Science Team with an affectionate glint in his eyes. It felt so good to actually be himself around this chaotic bundle of people he learned to care for so deeply.

#hlvrai #hlvrai gordon #gordon feetman #metalhead gordon au #metalhead gordon #benrey #tommy coolatta #hlvrai darnold #hlvrai gman #hlvrai coomer #hlvrai bubby #the premise of this AU finally shows itself #fanfics #fanfic

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himbowelsh · 4 years

Note

winnix/ amnesia?

a little fall of meme can hardly hurt me now ( no longer accepting )

His footsteps echo through the long corridor. They ring out discordant somehow, as though Dick’s practical Oxfords were not made for polished marble floors. To be fair, they weren’t. This place --- this swaggering mansion, with it’s high ceilings and plated glass windows, modern fixings and furniture dating back to the last century --- is not made for him. In the lap of luxury, Dick is an outsider. Never has that fact felt so painfully obvious.

The monochrome walls leer at him. Dick squirms in his own skin. Were he not accustomed by now to impossible situations, he might not be able to keep going, off-key footsteps carrying him all the way to the room at the end of the hall. The heavy oak door is closed, but he has seen behind it plenty of times before; he knows just where the dresser is, the position of the bed, the heavy curtains and cluttered desk by the window.

The difference those times was that he was invited. With Nix beside him, leading him in, he never felt like a stranger.

Now, what else could he be called?

He raps firmly on the door — because even if Nix always professed a “personal disdain for knocking”, that was only ever an excuse to not do it himself — and waits. After too long a moment, he hears it. Behind the door, someone shifts; a bed frame creaks; and over the silence, a rough voice calls, “Come in.”

Dick forces a deep breath, and opens the door.

The room is dark, curtains drawn — the better for his head, the doctors explained. It’s sweltering outside, but Nix’s bedroom, like the entire Nixon estate, is air conditioned. His bedclothes are rumpled. A set of silk slippers sit on the floor, ignored. Instead of the usual chaos, Nix’s heavy oak desk is clear; it’s only decorations are a bottle of white pills, and a rubber ice pack, long since lost its chill. The doctors left fresh bandages, some ointment, and more equipment for their next visit… but until then, the patient’s been left to recover alone.

That’s what drove Dick in here, against doctor’s orders: the thought of Nix sitting alone in the dark, aching and confused. When he was a child, Dick would fall prey to the inevitable winter flus and summer fevers, like all active kids; his mother never left his side for a moment. Nix’s mother isn’t even in the country, and his father… isn’t the ‘vigil by a bedside’ sort.

Whatever Dick expects to find in this lonely room, he still ends up surprised.

Nix is awake and sitting up — against doctor’s orders, certainly — with a glass of water in one hand and a fistful of blanket in the other. His posture is casual, almost bored. He stirs in bed just enough to swallow without choking, then sits up a bit straighter, cradling the glass like a finger full of scotch. It’s impossible not to notice the stark white bandage twined around his head, the exhaustion lining his face, or the dullness in his eyes… but besides that, he looks remarkably Nix-like. Exactly the opposite of what Dick expected, and so familiar that it hurts.

Lew takes one look at him, up and down, before settling back in bed. “Let me guess — executor of the will?”

Dick blinks, ignoring how the words twist in his gut. “No.”

“Sorry. You just… look like the sort of guy who’d show up a few decades too early.” He waves his hand, gaze meandering out the window as though there were a movie playing out in the front lawn, far more interesting than anything right in front of him. “Or a few days. Who knows? Head injuries — tricky things.”

Dick remembers the plink of a bullet bouncing off a metal helmet in Holland, the way his friend fell; he remembers the tiny bruise on Lew’s forehead, the way his eyes were so dark and so wide as he looked up at him. “I’m alright! Am I alright?”

“Quit looking at me like that,” Lew says out loud, jarring Dick from his thoughts like a lightning strike. “If you’re not a lawyer, and you’re not a doctor…” No Nixon-employed physician shows up empty-handed, Dick supposes. “Who are you? A compassionate well-wisher?”

“You… could say that.” The words taste sour in his throat. Dick wants to vomit, swallowing back sour bile as it rises in his throat. “I do wish you well, L— Nixon. Mister… Captain Nixon.”

“Wow. Going through the whole cycle, there.” The amusement in Nix’s eyes lingers for a moment, chasing away that dull listlessness… but it returns a moment later, like pain radiating from a fresh wound. “I’m a Captain?”

Dick has to clear his throat before he can answer. “You are. I had the honor of serving beside you in Europe… through Normandy, Holland, and Bastogne.” He lets the words linger for a moment, as though they could possibly jog some shadows of memory. Nix’s face remains blank, though, brows knit and scrutinizing. If there were any flicker of recognition there, Dick would catch it; but there’s nothing at all.

“What’s your name?” Nix finally asks, in the same tone he did in OCS school, so many years ago.

“Richard Winters,” Dick answers, in that same familiar voice.

“What do your friends call you? Dick?”

You do, Dick thinks, but doesn’t say so. “Yeah.”

“Nice to meet you, Dick.” Like a balloon hit with a pin, Nix’s tone has gone suddenly flat. “Or — meet you again, I guess. Sorry I can’t offer you some hors d'oeuvres, or a nice drink…” He gestures around at the messy bed, the chaotic room. “You’ve caught me in-between dinner and supper at the moment.”

“It’s fine. I don’t drink anyway.”

“One of those? Huh,” Nix says, without a hint of judgement. The exact same wording, in the exact same tone. Dick remembers this conversation; he could cite every line as though their first meeting were yesterday, instead of lifetimes ago. However much they’ve both changed, some things have still stayed the same.

Then a shadow passes over Nix’s face, gaze wandering, and Dick is forcibly reminded that this is not the same conversation at all. “Guess I oughta know that, huh?”

“It’s okay.” He isn’t used to feeling so uneasy in Nix’s presence. Where any other day he’d find a chair and sit in it, now Dick just stands at attention, shifting his shoulders to relieve some discomfort. “You’ll remember.”

Nix holds his gaze for a long moment. His eyes are impossibly dark; one is shadowed, almost from an injury. When he fell, he hit the train tracks hard; if his head could bounce off steel, it’s not inconceivable to think he might have bruised other things on the way down.

“So, Dick,” he finally says, in a tone that’s just too casual. “Tell me… how bad is it?” When Dick’s brows shoot up, Nix just regards him, unflinching. “They say it isn’t good, but they won’t tell me exactly how bad. Given my raging headache, and the fact that I didn’t recognize my own sister…” He swallows, and his throat bobs with it. “I’m gonna guess it’s really bad. So… give it to me straight, won’t you?”

Dick hesitates, breath stalling in his chest for an agonizingly long moment. There’s no right answer; there’s no way to go from here that won’t bruise Nix even more. If the Nixon family have decided to keep him in the dark until his memory returns — if it returns, that horrible, omnipresent if — who is Dick to contradict them?

Nix’s friend, that’s who. Even if he might not remember it. If Nix didn’t trust him to give the truth, he’d never have asked.

At last, Dick heaves a sigh, lowering his head just enough to not look the other man straight in the eye. “Do you remember Normandy, Nix?”

His blank expression doesn’t change.

“Do you remember OCS? Sobel? The paratroops?” At each question, shot out like individual bullets, Nix doesn’t falter. There’s no spark of recognition, no sudden lightness of memory, and desperation clamps like a vice around Dick’s heart. “German liquor, this little Irish guy named Harry, my footlocker… the lake in Austria…”

Nothing. Nothing at all.

He didn’t really expect otherwise, but it still feels like his heart’s been torn from his chest.

“Sounds like I missed quite a party,” Nix remarks, his voice flat. He doesn’t try to meet Dick’s eyes again. “How many years?”

Dick swallows. “What’s the last thing you do remember?”

“I remember school — not Officer’s School. Little place called Yale.”

Six years, at least. “You’ve… missed a lot, Nix.”

He looks up suddenly, seizing Dick with his gaze like a hand around his throat. Dick is left helpless in the face of Lewis Nixon’s stare. “That’s what you call me, huh?” As always, his words have a way of burrowing under your skin, getting straight into your nerve and bone. “I call you Dick, and you call me Nix. How about that?”

“How about it,” Dick agrees.

“We must be pretty good friends.”

“Yeah,” Dick replies, tasting something bitter in his throat again. “We are.”

A curious resignation lingers in Nix’s eyes as he slumps back against the pillows once more. Dick doesn’t know what to make of it, but it leaves him feeling tired, and very, very alone.

“Who knows? It’s a long life. Maybe we’ll do it all again sometime.”

Nix doesn't remember, doesn’t know, and can’t imagine. A part of Dick — the part that has seen his friend’s hollow-eyed stares, watched his hand tighten more and more around the mouth of a bottle — is almost glad.

“Yeah,” he mutters, summoning a soft smile for Nix’s benefit. “You never know. Maybe we will.”

#ehhh... he'll be fine #winnix #lewis nixon #richard winters #band of brothers #my writing #boasamishipper

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spyoikawa · 3 years

Text

Hihi! I'm alive! Battling this history competition, but I'll make it!

So let's jump back into these requests starting with, @wakatoshiswife

(sorry I lost the request so I'll copy/paste below the line break!)

(and I am once again on a different electronic, so sorry if this looks different, I will format it to look correct later)

Request: Hello! I saw that you’re doing matchups for valentines! I’d like to request for one too if that is okay :) I’d like to matched up with a guy please...I’m a 160cm girl, ISTJ/ESTJ (I’m an ambivert), my enneagram is type 8. My zodiac sign is cancer. I have black curly hair (type 3B hair) and my eye colour is brown. At first glance, people often think I’m mean bcs I have really think eyebrows and I have a resting b face. However once you get to know me, I’m pretty fun. My hobbies are gaming, baking and editing. The characters I kin are Sakurajima Mai, Light Yagami & Osamu Miya. I enjoy working out as well! Especially jogging on a cold morning/evening. I love watching formula 1 and I would watch football if it means getting to bond with my partner/friends. I play any sports but I like volleyball and badminton the most. I also enjoy cooking Asian cuisine as I am asian, I’m a mixed Persian-Indian. My favourite weather is Autumn as it matches my aesthetic and overall aura and vibe. My favourite colour is red as if I were to be a colour based off my personality, I’d be red. Although I look best in nudes, black, white and purple...I also have the best music taste ever. I’m the chill friend in the whole group. I am very very laidback, in fact I can be a little too laidback at times but it’s nothing bad, I know when too loosen up and when to get serious, hence this is why I’m often (almost every time) a leader. I’m quite the procrastinator and the last minute person but I always know what I’m doing so its all good. I’m confident in what I do and I stand strong for what I believe in. Words, will not hurt me unless it’s said by directed to an insecurity of mine. I hate losing. I’m that one competitive friend that hates losing but I never go too much yk. I’m pretty chill when it comes to competition, that meaning, I don’t show how competitive I am. I have a blank face as I’m competing with others. I always strive to win even if it means winning in a ridiculous way, however I won’t drag it too much as I hate when a small problem gets really really big bcs people keep making it big although it’s just a minor problem (I’m so sorry if you don’t understand T^T). I’m kind, polite and pretty mature but not too mature as I don’t want my adolescent to go to waste. Therefore I try my best to loosen and up and relax! If I were to go on an outing with my friends and they’re being noisy and loud in public, instead of telling them to quiet down, I’ll leave them there so I don’t get embarrassed 🗿. I hate creating a scene in public. I’m not a fan of popularity unless it’s for a good cause. Therefore, I’m a private person with around 15 people in my circle and I enjoy it this way :) I’m also very passionate in what I do. I’m very ambitious and my hogwarts house is syltherin. I know what I’m doing as for now and I love to plan ahead so it won’t be chaotic. I’m 100% a leader and my personality is very dominant. However when it comes to relationships, I’m 100% the submissive (or switch? I’m not sure) one bcs I am very shy to actually initiate anything. My preference in a partner is someone who’s dominant and he wouldn’t mind losing for me. If I were to be an animal, I’d be a wolf or a tiger but as for my partner, I’d like him to be a wolf or a lion but deep down he’s just a bear 🥰. I also prefer guys who aren’t loud, like quiet guys but not too quiet. Ones who talk when they need to, as I’m not rly fond of people who talk a lot a lot. It can be quite annoying and I’ll probably end up accidentally hurting them. I’m so sorry if this is too long bcs I think I went overboard. Thank you so much and have a nice day :D

Alright, thank you so much for this request, and thank you for being patient with me! I'm glad I got a nice long request to get back into the jist of things! And I never like to assume, but I feel like I've been bugging you, so I'm gonna assume you were requesting tulips-

anyhoo, without further ado (lol that rhymes)

Rion's Flower Shop! Today we have Tulips! I match you up with

Kuroo Tetsuro

relationship dynamic

- its actually quite nice! A perfect balance of similarities and opposites!

- and those said opposites are harmonious!

- you guys are both admirable leaders in your own way, and can often cooperate together, and despite different approaches, reach the same goal

- both of you are really confident in your talents and areas and you use that a lot to your advantages

- he's lowkey scared of your poker face but will never admit it

- despite this, the little perks and habits the two of you have are quite amusing

- he still struggles to see how tf you get work done when you procrastinate so much, but is honestly amazed by it

- and the competitiveness you share drive the 2 of you to keep moving forward

- it's always nice to have someone supportive of you (and you 2 are, don't get me wrong) but it's also nice to have some friendly banter and competition, whether it be over music, which teams are better, opinions, which food type is best, etc.

- it keeps you two on your toes

- and (as I mentioned earlier), although the two of you can keep going back and forth, you can also lean on each other, and trust one another for support.

- he can count on you to show up to some of his games and you can count on him to have your back you want to try something new or show him your hobbies

- you guys are also there emotionally, he will always be there watching your back, and cheering you up or proving people wrong after particularly harsh, uncalled for comments, because he knows how you really are and that those people are talking bs :)

- and you do the same for him, to cheer him up, let him know he's a good captain and friend. And although he doesn't show it as much when he's older, he still gets nervous in social situations and he can count on you to be a constant in new areas

What you guys do together/ What's it like with them

- this can either be the most fun relationship or the most comforting, laid back one ever!

- and honestly both are good choices

- neither of you really want to lose your childhood, cause you only get it once

- so it's not uncommon to try out new hobbies or experience new things together to make the most of this time you have

- there are a lot of firsts with him because of that

- he doesn't mind having fun out in public, like that's the point of going out to him, but he also agrees with not wanting to cause trouble, one) that shit's embarrassing 2) he knows it'll make you, himself, and others uncomfortable, so there's really no need to do something uncalled for

- however, despite all the fun of childhood, it's also good to have calm, quiet moments in certain relationships, such as this one

- he doesn't mind, and actually quite enjoys indoor dates, like studying together or watching your favorite movies/shows

- that gives him a chance to be and focus on you only, and maybe get to know you better

- no matter what you do, you two have a silent understanding of what you enjoy, don't enjoy, and what each others needs and wants are

- and he also understands how you might not like to initiate things, he can understand to a degree

- for a while it's a matter of who will make the first move, but once he gets comfortable, he won't mind initiating it for you :D

What they like about you

- he likes your overall personality tbh

- how you can be so laid back yet confident at the same time

- yet also sweet and nice to others

- it's a nice mixture where he doesn't need to force his personality out and express everything that comes his way, but he also doesn't need to shrink to avoid overwhelming you

- and although he likes to take the charge, he likes that you can be dominant at times too, sometimes he'd rather just leave things to you, because he knows he'll like what you like

- it also feels easy for him to talk to you

- he doesn't know why but he finds himself expressing his opinions and sharing things he'd usually keep guarded with you, because he trusts you enough to understand and not share with others

- overall, its the understanding for him :)

- and he's taking this to the grave, but he's also a firm believer that slytherins should stick together

alrighty, to be completely honest, idk how I did on this one, so please, if you did not like the style of writing or the character I matched you up with, please let me know! I will gladly rewrite it for you!

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo headcanons #kuroo hcs #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x reader #haikyuu matchups #oririon flowershop event #damn did i really forget my own tag-

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moonraccoon-exe · 5 years

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(4) And thank you for still being here despite the technical problems atm. I can hug you right? *snuggels you* -Peridot

Heya Peridot, my dear friend. Sorry I answered in this strange order of the last being the first, but I thought you’d be more comfortable if I hid the raw parts of this, as obvious as they may be, because one thing is to come rant to me and let the words flow in your moment of sadness and another thing is re Reading when you’re more calm. So I hope it’s okay that I answered this way and that it’s okay to have hid those bits?

*hugs*

Dear Peridot. Many times you leave me not knowing what to say, both for the good and bad things. And it’s not that this is bad as in “this made me feel bad” sort of thing, no. It’s bad in the sense of, it makes you feel bad, and that doesn’t make me happy. But it makes me glad that you decided to share this with me. Venting is always important, very useful, and very much needed at times. Taking something like this out of your chest usually Works to take at least a Little bit of the weight off it.

Lemme add a keep Reading, aye, buddy?

Again, sorry for any tipos that may come up, as this computer is much bigger than what I had and hence what I’m used to and it still Will try to correct a lot of words.

Thank you for having the courage to tell me you haven’t been alright lately. It takes a lot to do that, sometimes. It’s very important and very good that you acknowledge that you’re not quite alright, and better that you tell someone of your trust. It seems like such a Little thing but it really is a big important first step to recovery.

Don’t worry about sounding repetitive. You’re not. Indeed, it would be strange that you didn’t talk a lot about this. Something like what happened is not something anyone experiences, and it’s not easy in any way. No matter how strong, patient, or anything else, it’s still a huge impact that leaves a giant mark. It’s not easy. Not the tiniest bit. And it’s no something you get over with. Something like this…sometimes, you don’t. Sometimes, you don’t get over this scenario.

And that’s okay. That’s valid, it’s normal, more common than it seems, and it’s okay. Maybe it won’t ever stop hurting. Most times, in these cases, the best we can get is that it hurts less with time, but no matter how Little it hurts, it still hurts. Because that’s how tough and big this is. It’s something crude and raw and it leaves a huge impact. It doesn’t matter that he wasn’t family or an intimate friend, you had a link, a bond with him, and no matter how weak or strong or close or distant, it was connected to you. And it broke, still beign part of you. Of course you can’t and won’t get over it. You can’t think that. You won’t. And it doesn’t mean that you can’t heal or that you’re doing bad or that you’re weak or that you’re being repetitive, because you’re not. You’re just hurt in a way that not many get hurt, and the scar Will always ache, and you can’t blame anyone and nothing for that.

And it’s sad? Yes. And horrible, because what you would give to stop thinking about it and stop aching. But still crying over it is okay, too. You’re a beautiful human being with a giant heart that feels. You can’t expect to not experience pain with such a big heart.

I’m so, so, so wholeheartedly, immensely, and terribly sorry that the guy came out of the trials ‘clean’. Reading that made my heart weigh and drop, and it felt…like a punch in the guts. I can’t imagine how you felt. If there’s things I can’t handle and that I despise with every pore of my existence, that’s lies and unjustice. I can’t believe people are willing to let a culprit walk out with no consequences through the open doors. Someone that everyone knows is guilty, that did wrong, that should be punished….allowed out. On his own feet, clean, free, victorious. Getting away with such horrible crime…daring to take someone’s life, and be told ‘you can go home and continue your daily life’ as if…as if a human life didn’t matter.

It gets on me. I’m disgusted, angry. I have this horrible taste in my tongue and this horrible sensation of a black hole behind the stomach. It sickens me. All the pain he caused…the wrong and bad he did, the blood he spilled, and the pain to dozens, hundreds of people that were taken from a loved one so unexpectedly. All that pain that he caused…taking a good life while his, bad and rotten, remains…it Angers me so much. He’s lucky I’m not personally involved, or I’d have probably paid someone to go get his head. I can’t stand this. I can’t believe it.

I’m so, so sorry Peridot. If I feel like this…so impotent, so powerless, so angry, so fucking angry and so frustrated…I can’t imagine what you’re going through. It must be the same, but a thousand, a million times worse. To know that that fuckface is in his house right now, free to live his life as if he didn’t take another one that was a million times brighter and more beautiful than his…gods fuck me, I’m so, so upset. My stomach is a mess right now.

Lack of witnesses or proof. What a fucking lie. There are a thousand methods to catch the culprit. My biology teacher (who has a doctorate) said it, there’s no perfect crime because there Will lways, always be something that points to the truth. What happens is that your friend wasn’t someone rich or famous, that’s what happens. Because when the rich are involved, they catch the criminal within a few days and sentence him immediately. But because the rest of us, middle and low class, don’t matter, so don’t our deaths and crimes. So they get lazy in investigation, and hence, lazy in trials, and hence, every criminal walks out through the fucking doors, free and victorious, knowing they can do it again and again and again because there Will be no consequences. Because we don’t matter. That’s how the law Works in almost every fucking country of this planet. Because we’ve normalized death so much, investigating death is someone’s ‘job’ only, because ‘this happens every day’. Yes, well, maybe if we actually investigated as if every life matteres, then maybe we’d catch all the criminals, and if they were all properly reprimanded, then maybe I DON’T KNOW, THERE WOULDN’T BE MORE CRIMINALS TO DO THE SAME????

Fuck me. I’m…so upset. So angry, so…unbelievably frustrated and impotent.

I’m so sorry, Peridot. I didn’t mean to rant to you. It’s just that I really can’t believe that he came out of that completely clean when everyone knows he’s not. Laws anger me sometimes because…sometimes it’s the laws what are an obstacle to justice. Everyone knows it was him, but because some stupid paper says ‘okay we know it was him but we need some material proof that shows he did it’, just because of that stupid concept…just because of that, despite everyone knowing he did it, you can’t jail him.

I do would have liked him to stay in prison all life. You can’t take someone’s life like it’s nothing. Maybe he was nothing to him, but he was the whole world to his family and Friends. He was himself and that’s enough to deserve to live. I get that you’d have liked a Little it of justice. Even if it had been just communitary service, I’d have liked it. But to let him walk out of this entirely unharmed and untouched, like he’s some…privilaged untouchable Monster that can come and go as he pleases doing whatever he pleases with no consequences? Fuck. We can’t do that. I can’t believe this…

It’s okay and really reasonable that you’re angry, and sad, and disappointed. You must also feel frustrated, impotent, and so desperate in some way. Feel all that. Let it out somehow, so long it does no harm to neither you or anyone else. VEnt it and let it free, get angry and destroy something and kick something and be sad and cry and be frustrated and roar into your pillow, and idsappointed and talk shit about the laws and the trials, be desperate and stubborn and upset and don’t talk to anyone for a day and then cry more and then Yell and do anything you need to do to let it all out, ebcause if what I?m feeling is at least 1/50 part of what you’re feeling, fuck, you need it. Let it out. Feel it and let it burn. Because it’s a horrible, horrible, terrible, horrendous disaster and a chaotic experience, and you’ve got all the reason to be feeling as you’re feeling.

Oh, Peridot. I’m so, so sorry, my dear Peridot…I don’t know what to say or do. This experience is horrible and I’m so sorry you’ve got to go through all this unfair mess…I’m so sorry…

As about the job interview, I’m so sorry that they denied you, and I’m sorry that it felt like such a generic response. But don’t feel like it was personal and that you weren’t worth a proper response. It’s not that, Darling. Remember that the people that interview you are not always those sending the emails of rejection or approval. It’s a job, and Jobs usually go from those that interview you, and sometimes those choosing you are some other people, and sometimes, it’s also a third round of different people who send the responses. And they receive many applications…it’s not that you weren’t worth a proper response, it’s that they work that way with everyone.

And do remember what I told you when you came out of the interview and you told me how it went. IT’s not that you’re not good enough. They don’t discard you for being bad. They don’t choose the best, they choose the best suited for the job, and the fact that someone is better suited than you for THAT job doesn’t make you any less good or anything. We’re all good for different things in different measures, and I don’t doubt that you were qualified and a really good option for this job…so that you weren’t the best suited for it doesn’t mean you’re not qualified for it. Just, someone else suited their needs better, but that doesn’t mean you were bad or wrong.

You did fantastic, and they were so nice to you, and that is not a lie. To them, you should be no one, so they have no reasons to be nice. And yet, they were. And if they were, that’s because they naturally felt and act that way. So it wasn’t fake, they were nice to you because they liked you.

Please, don’t feel too bad about this. I know that it must have been very, very disappointing, but please don’t take it personal and don’t let it make you have bad thoughts about yourself. You’re excellent, you give your best, and you’re really well suited for anything you want to do. Feel bad about being rejected, yes, but know that applications for a job is like exams: they don’t determine how good you are or how worth it you are. They’re a general test, not one suited personally for you, and we’re all different with different abilities. A exam, a title, or a job application, none of that defines how good you are. They may be hints of what you need to get better at, but they never, memorize it, they never define you or your abilities or your worth. You know what you’re good at, you know what you can get better at, a piece of paper or an email or the judge or the employer don’t. You.

So remember what I told you; Kuzco-fy yourself. Remember you’re fantastic, and amazing, and a deity. It’s them who are missing out their chance with you. And don’t take it in a bad way, try to see it in a good way. Being denied doesn’t mean you’re not qualified. J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter was denied by 12 different editorials. And that doesn’t mean that it was bad, or that she wasn’t qualified. Being rejected is normal, okay, and it doesn’t mean you won’t make it. You know what means you won’t make it? Giving up. Not moving on. Not trying again. IMagine if she hadn’t tried all those 13 times, that she had given up after being denied for a 7th time. Imagine not having discovered how huge of a thing HP would become.

Just recently I saw a video of an actress from Friends (I’ve never watched it so I can’t say who it was, but I do know of the huge impact Friends was), and she was rejected, too. Fired, actually, before starting the filming of another show, and it was BECAUSE she was fired from that one that she found her place in Friends. And the point of the video was her saying that, that sometimes being fired or rejected is what is meant to happen and it Will lead you to something way, way better. That it feels HORRIBLE at first, yes, but that’s just because you haven’t found that other door that wouldn’t have opened had you been accepted in that first one.

What I mean to say is, dear Peridot, that this isn’t personal, and that you’re going to find something better if you keep pushing forwards. And that you’re fantastic, and great, and you give so much good to the world, it’s only by nature going to come back to you, and that althought being rejected feels terrible, it’s sometimes only the process to get somewhere brighter and better.

I’m glad that you’re aware that I won’t get mad at your or anything. You know you can always drop by to tell me what’s in your mind and how I can help. Also, don’t refrain from talking to me despite my technical problems; my computer can’t be repaired. Or, well, it can, but it’s rather senseless because it was ‘old’ (seen from the perspective of how fast technology moves), and I had dropped it so many times before, the hardware is damaged and it isn’t very worth it.

I’m going to get a new one, but we’re very tight on money right now, so I’ll keep using my papa’s computer for a very long while. But don’t you worry and don’t let any of that refrain you from writing to me. Papa is out most of the day so I can use it then. I just gotta get used to the keyboard :)

And of course you can hug me. I’m already hugging you, you sweet muffin. That’s what I do best, right? Offer confort hugs and warm snuggles. I’m not a squishy ball of fluff just for no reason, squeeze and hug all you need and want, dear Peridot. You certainly can use a hug. Maybe it wont’ fix anything or make anything better, but it’s always a good confort that does well to the heart.

*snuggles back*

I’m going to stay curled up right next to you all the time you need. Or clingignt o your head and not letting go. Or hugged to you and snuggling. Anything and everything for the good warm huggles, all the time you need. That’s what I do best, even if it’s just virtually.

Dear Peridot, I feel frustrated because I don’t know how to confort you. I wish I was there to be able to physically do something, even ifjust stroke your hair. IT pains me to know you in pain, and experiencing such a crude thing. I’m so, so profoundly sorry that all this mess happened, and that you’re having such a rough time. I’m profoundly sorry for everything and for the way you’re feeling, my dear friend.

Know that I’m with you, as are my best wishes and vibes. I’ll be asking mommy moon to try to do something to ease those horrible feelings invading you. And I’ll be thinking about you, wishing you the best, and hoping for you to find peace of mind soon. You’ve got me virtually to snuggle you, and across the ocean to keep supporting you and sending you the best vibes I have.

Dear Peridot, I wish I had more to say but...I’m rather speechless, and only able to share my empathy with you. I’m sorry all this is happening. You deserve much better.

Have a good night, Peridot, and sleep well. I love you.

#coonreplies #coonrants #lkadkjfdkgadjg dakglj dakgladglkad #f il l e r t a g s . .--- .#.-- --.- ….---44 #peridot #personal

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romaniassexdungeon · 6 years

Text

Shattered Romanticism of a God - Chapter 7

Summary: Tino hadn't expected a lot of things. He hadn't expected the relatively unknown band he was reviewing to actually be good. He hadn't expected its lead singer to be absolutely gorgeous. And he certainly hadn't expected to spend the next few months falling for such a wonderful man.

Sorry for the unexpected hiatus. Uni hit and I have a lot of other stories to update, but I’d like to keep updates for this more consistent from now on, and not just because this is the fic people actually read. Honestly, I don’t think this fic is gonna be amazingly long. Like, more than twenty chapters, but I doubt I’ll reach thirty. And yes that’s short for me! I’ll get it done, though. Bully me if I don’t. Oh, and I went back and changed Belgium’s name to Isabel because that’s the name I use for her now.

Gunner - Denmark /// Adriaan - Netherlands

Read the full fic on AO3 and FF.net

My ko-fi

“Oh, what a lovely day!”

Tino was perfectly happy to converse with his dog in public, and did so freely as he strode down the street, ignoring the stares and glares for daring to disturb the peace, with pointless rambling to an animal of all things. What did he care? Kukkamuna was a very good listener.

“I hope you have fun today,” he just continued, “but try not to make a mess of uncle Berwald’s house - we want to stay on his good side.”

She yapped in response, and not one of those sarcastic yaps she give before taking a dump on the hall floor the moment they came in from their walkies despite having a whole hour in the park to do so, but a genuine yap like she would actually behave. Maybe she knew what was at stake here?

It was really a lovely day though: the sun shone in its crisp autumn beauty and there was no sweltering heat to leave him sunburnt within five minutes. That was always nice. Unfortunately though, it was a little too early in the year for those nice crunchy fallen leaves to tread on, and Christmas was still four months away. Four whole months and yet there was so little time to prepare. What was he like? Eduard could probably answer that for him. The police also had a file to describe what he was like too.

For some reason, even though Berwald was in his twenties and probably couldn’t afford a house, being the lead singer of an unknown band, Tino was certain the guy lived in one. A neat house with freshly cut grass and white shutters. Detached or semi-detached. With an enormous kitchen, so big it had one of those islands.

He gasped at the concept. They could boink on the island!

Except he didn’t have a house! Berwald had explicitly told him he shared a flat with Gunner, and sometimes Tolli would sleep on the sofa if he wanted to run away but not permanently and was just trying to make a point. The other three band members could also often be found practising or passed out in various rooms. Tino thought the noise and bustle sounded fun, but Berwald had admitted he’d prefer a bit of quiet now and again. And a tidy flat for once.

He’d even mentioned he was a little jealous of Tino living alone; he could keep his flat tidy and sleep in peace.

Oh sweet, innocent Berwald.

He did eventually find the block of flats, still disappointed in how normal it was. Regular flats with little white balconies. Something told him the one dripping with hanging baskets and beer can decorations was where he’d end up, and it really was a shame it wasn’t possible to make a bet with himself because he’d obviously win. And lose.

But if he started arguing with himself he’d just be proving that judge in Copenhagen right, so instead, Tino rang the doorbell.

He waved pleasantly to an old couple as he waited, the two shuffling along, hand-in-hand, smiling at him and each other. It gave him hope, seeing old people happily in love after all that time, after having to live with someone and their habits and farts and smelly socks for so long. Maybe he’d have that one day. With Berwald. Or Tony Kakko. Or any member of Sabaton.

But preferably Berwald.

Speaking of which, he looked beautiful as he answered the door. Maybe Berwald had an endless supply of turtleneck jumpers, because he was wearing one yet again, a deep blue beauty. Tino had never seen him in jog bottoms before, though.

“Hey, Berry,” he greeted, “look, I’m on-time and everything!”

“Didn’t doubt ya,” he gave one of his beautiful smiles. Kukkamuna yapped a hello and jumped up at his leg.

“You’d be surprised how many people do,” he smiled back as he was lead into the hall. ”You know, based on a mountain of evidence.” Berwald didn’t reply, but Tino swore he saw the hint of a smile as he closed the door.

“Sorry I don’t have a pie to give you,” he said as they climbed the stairs, “but the last one I made burnt so it’s probably for the best.”

Berwald definitely smiled at that.

“Then there was the chocolate mousse that was more like chocolate milk,” he continued, since his lack of cooking was so fucking hilarious to most people, “and all those crispy black pizzas. And that soup I burnt.”

“How-”

“I forgot it was on the stove and all the water evaporated out of it. All I was left was this clay-like thing. Like, some gross paste.”

“Y’tasted it?”

“I was a broke student.”

Berwald patted his shoulder, letting him into a flat that had recently - but hurriedly - been cleaned. Clearly. Tino was glad he wasn't the only one trying to make an effort. He could see what touches were Berwald’s and what were Gunner’s, or at least he guessed the shelf of carefully put together lego sets of various landmarks belonged to the Dane. Not to stereotype, but they probably did. There was also a death star model that would’ve made Eduard weak at the knees. The cookbooks probably belonged to Berwald.

“So which one of you collects boats,” he asked, bending down to admire the shelf full of them. He especially liked the little ones in bottles.

“Gunner,” said Berwald, taking his coat, “we both collect things.”

Tino turned to him with a smile. “Oh? And what do you collect?”

He shrugged. “Books. Swords.”

Tino’s eyes widened. “That’s hot. Really hot. And pretty badass.”

Berwald almost smiled at that. “Mm, Gunner ‘n me, we dun have a lot’ve money cause of hobbies. ‘N alcohol.”

Their job was singing in a band with a total of six fans. And Tino thought he was bad at budgeting.

“Have you considered not buying swords?”

Berwald looked absolutely horrified.

“Or CDs,” Tino glanced past him at yet another shelf, “then again, I like a man with a massive CD collection.” Did that sound suggestive? Alluring? Or just weird and creepy? Still, what kind of music did Berwald actually listen to? He knew he was being nosy, but Berwald absolutely fascinated him, and since trying to get the guy to talk about himself was like pulling teeth, he might as well snoop while he could.

“You don’t mind if I have a little peruse, right?” he said with a wink. Berwald shrugged and left him to it, setting about making a pot of coffee.

The first thing Tino noticed was that a sizeable chunk of the CDs had been recently removed, from the top shelf, a band or singer beginning with ‘A’, he suspected, given that Berwald had alphabetised his collection. He could see some odd choices of music just from a glance, so what was particularly embarrassing about this one band, since he’d taken the time to hide it from him?

He had a Sarek CD, for Christ’s sake!

Besides that, there seemed to be every metal band he'd heard, plus a few unfamiliar albums that looked more folk in nature.

“Interesting tastes,” he commented, picking up a Gloryhammer album.

“S’Gunner’s,” Berwald mumbled, shuffling up awkwardly next to him.

“Figured.” He didn’t know if the man was lying, but he could well believe Gunner listened to songs about space wizards and evil unicorns. He and Christopher Bowes gave off the same chaotic energy, now that he thought about it. “I’m guessing he’s also the Alestorm and Ninja Sex Party fan. What a man.”

“Like ‘em too,” Berwald mumbled. Tino raised his eyebrows and turned to him with a wicked smile.

“I never took you for a pirate metal fan.”

Berwald shrugged. “Grew on me.”

Tino would like to grow on him too. He decided not to even wonder what that was supposed to mean. “Where is Gunner anyway?”

“Adriaan’s. Guitar practice.”

“I thought Adriaan played bass.”

“Big guitar.”

Tino smiled.

“Ye can stay for dinner,” Berwald mumbled after an uncomfortable silence. Tino just thanked him, deciding not to mention that had been what they’d already decided over the phone. They fell back into awkward silence.

Tino played with his jumper, glancing around for something - anything - he could talk about. He spied a room just past Berwald’s arm, door shut. “Oh? What’s in there?”

“M’workshop!” Berwald, ever so slightly, puffed out his chest.

“Where you practice singing and… triangle?”

He blushed slightly. “Writing.”

Tino perked up at that, bristling excitedly. “Like, original songs?” Berwald nodded. Right! He forgot the guy wrote the band's songs. “Songs you’ve recorded or are still writing?”

“Both. All stages.” He covered his face with a hand. “Lotta crap.”

“Would it be okay if I was the judge of what counts as crap?” Tino asked sheepishly, “I mean, after all, we’re all our own worst critics. Actually, for me it’s Eduard. And this one Norwegian guy who comes on my blog to pick apart everything I write, just because I think Finnish metal is better.”

“Vidar?”

“You know what? I think it could be.” Tino brushed against his arm ever so lightly. “So, your workshop… if you’re okay with that, of course!”

He nodded, “please…”

Though he was bristling with excitement, he waited for Berwald to actually let him in, rather than barge in. He wrote a lot of angry poetry as a teen, and if his mum or cousins had just barged in and read them, he’d… well, he’d have cried and wrote another angry poem about trust. He was going to respect what looked like Berwald’s private space for private songwriting.

Then, when Berwald tentatively lead him inside, he forgot all that upon spying the name of the first song he saw. And the second.

“‘I want to fuck Thor’?” he picked up a scruffy sheet of paper, raising an eyebrow. “‘Odin is my daddy’?” He was in love.

Berwald was definitely blushing this time, and buried his face in his hands. “S’Gunner’s songs!”

“Oh! Well Gunner is a creative genius!” He scrolled down the lyrics, still clearly in their rough stages, but funny nonetheless. He had to laugh at a few lines. “I love them!”

“I wrote them! Gunner can’t write shi-heck!”

Tino smiled at him. “Look, I’m not gonna judge you for anything! I know you’re a dork; you don’t have to impress me. You think I’d judge you for writing something funny and weird? Look at me.” He paused. “You were writing a funny song right?”

Berwald just. “Jus’ thought it would be a laugh.”

“Mmm, honestly there’s no need for boundaries in metal. Go for it! I mean, what’s the point in writing metal if it doesn’t piss someone off, somewhere?”

Berwald smiled ever so slightly at that. Tino smiled back.

"Wanna show me some of your other songs?"

He nodded, almost shaking with excitement.

“And anyway,” Tino said through a mouthful of potato, “then Érzsebét had to explain to me that Boney M sang the original version of Rasputin, and wasn’t a cover band.”

Berwald raised an eyebrow, looking at him judgmentally. It was the same look Eduard gave him, sometimes. Often.

“I’d just heard Turias’ version first!” he insisted, “I don’t listen to a lot outside metal! I’m not an idiot, I swear!”

“Never said y’were,” Berwald waved a hand. “S’cute.”

“I’m not cute,” Tino mumbled.

“Y’are. Very. It’s cute.”

He pretended to scowl, but couldn’t. He’d just spent an hour or so talking about his various internet fights like some loser, and Berwald thought he was cute? Him? Tino? The guy who corrected people’s grammar online despite English being his third language and him not actually knowing the grammar that well? It was just fun to make people mad when he couldn’t come up with a decent argument.

It hadn’t all been talk of himself though! He wasn’t that vain, and didn’t really like talking about himself and being the centre of attention, it was just that - sometimes - Berwald left him struggling for conversation.

Berwald had talked about his music, and even some of his more serious songs, the more personal ones. It was clear he had a passion for it, and he explained - or tried to anyway - that singing and songwriting let him communicate more easily. That he didn’t have to think as much and could actually say how he felt. Ironically, he was having trouble with the song he was writing about the topic. Tino understood.

“You think I’m cute?” he asked sincerely. Berwald shrugged. “Well I think you’re very cute too. Like a teddy bear.”

Berwald smiled and mumbled something into the collar of his turtleneck. Tino smiled and took his hand, squeezing it gently. They looked into each other’s eyes a little too long, and Berwald quickly looked away.

“S’late,” he mumbled, “why not stay t'night?”

Tino blinked. “Uh, sure, yeah! Grounds sate- er, sounds great!”

“I’d offer you Gunner’s bed but,” Berwald pulled a face, “wouldn’t touch it. Can’t do that t’ya.”

“Wouldn’t he be coming back at some point anyway?”

Berwald shook his head. “Nn. Staying over at Adriaan’s. Got the place t’ ourselves.”

To themselves, huh?

“Me and Kukkamuna would really appreciate it,” he said, “she loves you.” He… okay it was a little early to be seriously calling it love, but he did like the guy. A lot. And he wanted to spend more time with him. But what did Berwald mean by him staying the night? Were they gonna do… stuff? All jokes aside, he found himself thinking it was maybe a little too soon. He wasn’t even sure they were dating, though that would be one hell of a confirmation.

“I- I like you too,” he added. “You’re sweet. And good.”

Berwald smiled behind his hand, wiggling ever so slightly, like a happy worm.

“Got a tent,” he mumbled with a shrug, “could set it up in here. Be fun.”

“Ooh! I like camping! Especially when it’s all cold and rainy outside and you have to snuggle up for warmth, especially if you get snowed in like 'hey, might as well make the best of it!'” People usually looked at him like he was mad when he said that, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe it was some ancient mammal instinct that made him want to burrow somewhere warm and safe, or maybe he liked having an excuse to cling to someone like a lamprey. He wasn’t one for closeness or even being touched, but, on occasion, he liked to snuggle.

Sometimes, he just needed a bit of warmth, but it had to be with someone special. His cousins, his mother, or maybe Vidar if either of them were feeling drunk and emotional, and maybe - quite possibly - Berwald. Anyone else, and he’d probably retreat into his own skeleton.

“Sounds cosy,” Berwald agreed. He actually agreed with him on that?

“And you?” he tried - Berwald clearly liked camping, so maybe it would be a topic he actually talked about. Actually, that was unfair. He apparently loved talking about his work, and his favourite bands. And sword collecting. He didn't think he'd ever been more turned on than when Berwald had showed off all the ornate swords hanging in his room. “What’s your favourite part about camping?”

“Pitching a tent by a lake,” he shrugged, “watching the sunrise o’er the water, sitting with a coffee and some pastries.” He smiled wistfully, resting his chin on a hand. “With a special someone. Romantic.”

Tino nodded. “Yeah, romantic…”

Berwald shook himself slightly and stood up, presumably to get the tent. He paused at the window behind Tino and chuckled. When Tino looked around, he saw that it was pouring rain.

“Cosy weather!” said Berwald excitedly.

“Yes! Perfect for staying over,” Tino grinned, “and snuggling up with you.”

He hated the rain, so was pretty glad he and Kukkamuna could stay over. If you were going to have ‘bad’ weather, you might as well make it snow. Snow was fun and crunchy and the perfect temperature to lie in. Rain just got you wet and cancelled plans.

Actually, he did love cancelling plans, a lot of the time. And rain wasn't so bad when he was inside and warm. It did make a comforting sound.

He blushed and dipped into his bedroom, returning with a tent bag and Kukkamuna, now awake from her nap on his pillow. He smiled as the tiny dog ran around him, jumping up excitedly. He’d never seen her take to someone so quickly before. Berwald loved her too, that much was clear; he smiled so freely around Kukkamuna, like it was impossible to hide anything from her, least of all his adoration.

Tino wasn’t in love yet, but he was as close to it as a person could get.

“Want me to help with that?” he asked. Berwald shrugged. So a ‘yes’ then?

Tino jumped up and, after standing around awkwardly awaiting instructions, began feeding poles through their respective holes. He wasn’t that good at teamwork, but they got the thing set up without wanting to kill each other.

“Hey,” he began as Berwald arranged a duvet and pillows inside the little two-man tent, “wanna hear something funny?”

“Mm.”

“About what I said earlier, about only listening to metal bands and thinking all their songs are the original. Around the same time I first started thinking about writing a metal blog, I made an angry post on some forum complaining about Britney Spears ripping off Children of Bodom’s song, ‘Oops I did it again’.”

Berwald’s mouth twitched upwards.

“And you know the internet, they can always let a mistake go,” he had to laugh at himself, “it did teach me to always research before I write, though.”

Berwald was smiling at that, collecting soft blankets from around the room to add to their little nest.

“And don’t even get me started on the time I, in a room full of Swedes, started referring to ABBA as a cover band, doing disco versions of famous metal songs-”

Berwald laughed at that. He actually laughed! The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, hiding his laugh behind his hand. The sound - so gentle and faint, but there nonetheless - warmed Tino’s heart and left him clutching his chest, and smiling like a mad idiot. It was the most beautiful sound!

Forget everything, Tino might actually be in love.

They sat in the tent and talked for hours, Kukkamuna between them, dozing happily as the two lazily stroked her fur. Berwald talked about the things he and Gunner got up to at university, including starting a band, whilst Tino talked about growing up in Finland, and all the shenanigans he and his cousins got up to. All throughout, he wondered if Berwald was going to make a move, but he didn’t. He wondered if he should make a move himself.

But he didn’t.

Eventually, he fell asleep in Berwald arms, and that was enough for him.

#sufin #aph sweden #aph finland #hetalia #Hetalia Fanfiction #aph fanfiction #hetalia fic #finsu #shattered romanticism of a god

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 7 years

Text

Crashing Parties & Taking Numbers

Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: language

A/N: This is a commissioned story for @jasmineladjevardi , who I love and adore. Enjoy! Commissions are open!

Summary: Jasmine decides to crash a charity party, because there is a first time for everything. What she wasn’t counting on was the fact the party was a Hydra funded event and a certain Captain was there doing some undercover intel.

Steve walked into the charity party, wearing a nice suit and tie, feeling a bit stiff, but alert. Alert was the key focus tonight because this so-called charity event was a Hydra cover up. Maria Hill had informed the team that a few high ranked Hydra officers’ wives were in charge of the whole event. So she was able to obtain tickets for the group and told them to keep their eyes and ears open. It was strictly an intel mission, no combat unless necessary. She wanted to get as much detail on any plans Hydra had going on and judging by the guest list she managed to score, there would plenty opportunity to do so.

Strolling through the room, Steve made his way to the bar, ordering himself a drink - even though it would have no real effect on him. It was all for show, plus he needed something to take the taste of disdain off his tongue. All these people that lived and breathed New York air, laughing and drinking the night away.

How many were Hydra sympathizers? Hydra loyalist?

….

I faked my way through several dull conversations, eyeing the bar that seemed to drift further and further away. Why I was convinced crashing a charity party would be a brilliant venture was beyond me, but it did beat spending another night at home. I excused myself from the overly friendly older gentleman, who smelled like my grandpa and raced toward the bar.

As I approached the counter, I eyed a man leaning against it. He looked bothered and busy, so I ignored him and ordered a drink. Placing my clutch on the bar, I took out my cell and started running through my social media until a chuckle came from the man.

“These things tend to be pretty boring, huh?”

I smiled and tried to ignore how wonderfully attractive he was. “To be honest - wait, can I trust you?”

He laughed and looked down at the ground before grinning. “People say I’m trustworthy.”

“In that case,” I mused, moving a little closer to him. “I’m crashing this joint.”

“So you weren’t invited?”

“Say it louder for the rest of the crowd,” I teased, turning to the bartender and thanking him for the drink. “My friend was supposed to come with me, but she got stuck at work and I bought this dress for the occasion, didn’t want to see it go to waste.”

“It’s a pretty dress.”

He placed his glass down and glanced around the room, a look of distraction fell over his face. I reached for my bag and started to excuse myself when he stopped me by briefly touching my arm.

“I could use some company, my friends dragged me to this thing and they’re all scattered around.”

Seeing that I was planning to leave, his blue eyes, warm and friendly, they made me want to stay. Made me think spending some time with a complete stranger couldn’t be so bad, not when he looked like that.

“Sure, I have no plans and apparently no friends either. I’m Jasmine.”

He smirked and held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Jasmine. I’m Steve Ro-”

Steve’s stopped talking and held tightly to my hand just as two men passed us. I eyed them carefully and by the look on my new friend’s face, he knew them and he definitely was not happy to see them. I tried pulling my hand back, but Steve was too occupied to notice.

“We have everything ready.”

“Good, I’ll send everything to Peterson. Everything is going as plan.”

Steve and I stood there listening, neither of us breathing, hands gripped together. My eyes stayed glued to Steve’s, which in turn were on the two men. I clutched the glass in my other hand and brought it to my lips, downing the drink.

"So, that’s my hand.”

My question broke Steve from whatever trance he was in and he quickly let go of my hand, apologizing.

“Sorry,” he smiled sheepishly. “You want to go walk around? Maybe we can find some food in this joint?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the gentlemen next to me started talking again and I caught the last bit, a whisper that made me gasp. Steve’s eyes widen and he looked to the men, seeing something I couldn’t because he suddenly pulled me into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered before planting an over the top kiss onto my lips. I was stunned for a mere second, but the way his lips danced against mine, it was all too consuming. I slipped both arms around his neck and his arms moved around my waist.

“It’s Rogers!”

One of the men bellowed out and Steve broke the kiss, grabbing my hand and telling me to run. I jerked back and reached for my clutch before letting Steve pull me through the crowd. My feet pounded against the floor, blurting out ‘excuse us’ over and over as Steve pushed his way into a closed off hallway. The corridor was dark, so Steve lead me into a room and closed the door, rushing toward the window.

“Nat,” he said into his comm. “I’ve been recognized. It was Richards and Stanfield, they were talking about some plans.”

I looked at the door and grabbed a chair that was off to the side, doing what they do in movies and placing it up against the knob. Steve turned and chuckled, saying there was nothing to worry about.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The light coming outside the window hit Steve’s face, brightening the area around his eyes and it was like that, everything clicked.

“You’re Steve Rogers, Captain America,” I whispered in disbelief. “I thought you looked vaguely familiar, it’s the eyes.”

Steve laughed and moved to me. “I’m sorry to pull you into this.”

“Hail Hydra, one of the guys said that and I heard,” I explained, giving a little head shake. “I mean I’ve read the papers, the stories, but to hear those words...it’s bone-chilling.”

“I know, are you okay?”

He reached over and placed a hand on my shoulder, sending a warm feeling up my spine.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m talking to a freaking Avenger!”

“I’m just Steve,” he urged, his smile fading when the door knob started to turn.

Steve quickly grabbed me and rushed me to the corner of the room.

“Stay right here and don’t worry, I got you.”

“I’m sure you do,” I replied quietly, nodding for Steve to do his thing.

His eyes locked with mine for nearly 30 seconds before the door swung open, knocking the chair down, and he turned, reaching a hand around to pull me into his back. I shut my eyes but felt Steve’s body relax against mine.

“So we do all the work while you decided to slip away into this dark room with an unknown woman?”

“Romanoff,” Steve groaned as the lights turned on.

I opened my eyes and peeked from behind Steve, recognizing the redhead right away.

“Holy...you’re Black Widow. You are really beautiful.”

Nat smirked. “Oh, I like her Steve, can we keep her?”

“Very funny,” he muttered, stepping aside. “This is Jasmine, we met at the bar. She-”

“I blew his cover,” I admitted and Natasha laughed.

“She didn’t,” Steve insisted, giving me a soft smile. “So are we cleared or are we going to get an earful from Hill?”

“We’re good, I came looking for you, the car’s ready. We need to go debrief at the Tower.”

“Right,” Steve said disappointedly. He turned to me and asked if I needed a ride home.

“I drove here, but you could walk me to my car?”

….

“Again, I’m sorry for dragging you into all this,” Steve offered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I just couldn’t help myself when I saw you standing next to me at the bar. Maybe I should have waited until after we got the intel we needed before approaching you.”

I felt the blood rush to my head and I laughed nervously, waving a chaotic hand in the air. “No big deal, this is what I get for crashing a charity party that apparently is a front for Hydra.”

“Well,” he shrugged, taking a step toward me. “I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah, I’m sorta feeling that way too.”

Steve smiled brightly and he scratched the back of his head. “Um, do you think I could get your number? I’d love to take you out on a non-Hydra outing sometime.”

I bit down on my lip to contain the beaming smile on my face as I nodded eagerly. “Yeah, Steve, I’d like that.”

Forever tag (tagging in everything I write, no matter the fandom)

@my-amazing-nerdyness @naih-reedus @maciiiofficial @casownsmyass @jade-taillia @fangirlextraordinaire @indominusregina @feelmyroarrrr @my-rainbow-wonderland @myhopeisinfinite @girl-next-door-writes @dontbeamenacetotheforce @melonberri @superisatomboyuniverse @xloudwhocares @crownie-sr @dracsgirl @moonlight53 @makemyownwonderland @dreamwhisper87 @trekken81 @barely-emily @winterboobaer @purelittleblueberry @goodnightwife @mishaissocoollike @stormyfandoms@foreverybodythatunderstands23 @gallifreyansass @flirtswithdanger @yana-tardis-drwho @myplaceofthingsilove @jchona @alyssaj23 @blackhoneybucky @urbanspacedecay@castieltrash1 @hannahsakorax3 @imagine-all-the-imagines @motleymoose @distinguishedqueenofbooks @kitkatgaming @fizzylollipop12 @iamwarrenspeace @darkmystress00 @lunarwolfrose @kapolisradomthoughts @sisinia13 @swiggityswagness @takemetoneverland91 @to-pick-ourselves-up-7 @sarah-mos @rubynationwins@padfootorionblack @kaywolves @wonderlace19 @yourxaveragexslythergit @purelittleblueberry @courtneychicken @rayleyanns @whatmakesmebeme-tblr @thewinterwitch@avengersgirllorianna @holywinchesterness @tatortot2701 @brewsthespirit-blog @seabasschino @lame-lozer @ex-bookjunky @travelwithwords @supernaturaldean67@thehuntchback @shoytai @besamiculo-puto @ign-is @zuni21798 @multipleuniversesinwriting@pleasantdreamqueen @damalseer @10kindsofderp @hennessy0274-blog @jodoethr @s-t-r-i-k-e-us @seeing-but-not-observing @happyskywhale

#steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x reader #captain america x oc #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america imagine #captain america #commission

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briteboy · 7 years

Photo

stealing @bratsims format because i need a less ugly way to mass answer your messages which will hopefully motivate me to stay on top of this! at least i can say i tried

so if you sent me an anon message in the past...idk MONTH (i’m bad i know) it might be here. (older ones are near the bottom) if not, check my faq because it’s probably answered there. (and if you’re the person/people who sent the twin flame & 7th house asks, i plan to answer those separately because i have a LOT to say. get ready)

game of thrones, nuclear war, real life santis, lou theories, i’m evil, HERE WE GO!! i literally had to cut it off at the last one because it was just too much for now. i’ll try to answer some more later ok

we’re starting off on a great note

Anonymous said: gaddamn rooney's tiddies lookin' hella ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

STOP!!!!!!!!!!! THAT’S MY CHILD soaidfnjds she’s supposed to have like b/c cups (goals for me tbh, the big boob life is not fun) and sims 4 pregnancies just fuckin make them...NYOOM i’m mad you can’t edit sims’ bodies during pregnancy even with cas.fulleditmode on -___- so i let her live with her giant preggo tiddies for now

Ngl I want a kiss between Santi and Gianni (I'm sorry I'm literally trash)

then i’m here to satisfy your desires: they do kiss periodically because gianni is one of those people who’s like “why shouldn’t you kiss your friends?” free love 4 everyone

IM SCREAING AT UR YOUTUBE CHANNEL OK!!!! I LOVEEE IT, WOW

DON’T IT’S UGLY EXCEPT FOR LIKE TWO VIDEOS

hey this is kinda random but i thought joe seaward from glass animals looked kinda like santi? he has quite a weird face too lmao

oMG i actually love that, i know what you mean. that dude reminds me of a bull terrier lmao i actually saw glass animals like two weeks ago!! i didn’t really get a good look at the drummer but now i wish i did. missed connection

i just finished reading santi's story and ugh it almost had me in tears! beautiful, your story telling skills and editing skills are perfection!

ahhhhsdkgkds thank you so much ;____; that means the world to me <333

Unpopular opinion: im so done with game of thrones tbh. It's not even good anymore :/ I liked the first season but since then i've skipped through episodes because they are just sooo fucking boring and dragged out!

see like the first three seasons were pretty good because they stayed true to the books. (actually that’s a lie, littlefinger’s chaos speech in the s3 finale was real fuckin bad because guess what: it was original material LMAO) the fourth season was where it started to get messy and then the fifth season was a fucking shitshow because they completely IGNORED the fourth book and cherrypicked all the “good” parts out of it (read: the most action-y parts, while ignoring all the most important pieces of character development) and they botched the dorne storyline, oh and who could forget the iconic moment of throwing in a rape (THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN IN THE BOOKS) just for fun :) love it! but anyway if you think the show is boring i probably wouldn’t recommend the books, they’re even slower getting through them lmao. but it’s worth it in my opinion. there’s so much they don’t include in the show and it makes me Angery

Okay, game of thrones fan here, I haven't read the books (yet at least, I bought book 1) but I feel like dany is going to practically turn into her father, this season she is already showing traits like his.......

OH YEAH i definitely feel like they’re moving in that direction in the process of revealing jon as the “true” king of westeros and it’s so bad lmfao. the thing is, like...cersei is already mad king 2.0? why do we need another one?????? the entire point of dany’s arc is that she’s constantly trying to deviate AWAY from the way her father ruled, demonstrated by the fact that she freed the slaves (whereas all the targaryens before were slave owners), the fact that she’s not perpetuating the whole incest thing (LMAO GUESS AGAIN BECAUSE JONERYS HAS TO HAPPEN FOR SOME FCKING REASON), the fact that she has dragons which haven’t existed in how many years...like, if she ever ends up being like her father in the books, it’s NOT gonna fucking happen like this. but i don’t think she will anyway, george rr martin has been pretty clear about her trajectory thus far. anyway this show is so ugly, next question

rooney's eye are so BIG

just like her tiddies lmao i kno sometimes i forget how big they are and then she does one of those silly endearing animations and i’m like o ;-; hello big dumb baby cow eyes

Cows? Are you secretly Matthew Daddario?

WHO i had to google him lmao i was about to say “oh the teen wolf guy” but jk @ myself u idiot it’s shadowhunters damn i literally googled “matthew daddario cows” and

tru

I love how fragile Lou looks like but the truth is that she is strong af and you can't play with her bruh

SHE IS ;-; and that’s a huge theme in her story, i’m excited <3

ima leave ur blog and come bk and spam you so you will finally notice me

im part of this online forum of girls that talks about our period and weather or not one of us might be pregnant and once this girl posted saying that her husband invited his mom without telling her to thier honeymoon and she didnt find out until they arrived at the hotel and she was already there. the most recent part reminded me of it. but long story short, her dad moved all her stuff out of his house and her friend came to pick her up and they got a divorce.

OISOJDFAKNLJSD WHAT!!! i’m guessing you sent this because of that thing i said about the reddit post lmfaooo imagine your mom on your honeymoon. why. that’s soooooooooo good 4 her u know. u don’t need to be married to his mom as well

thanks 4 trusting my love santi. he's beautiful

thank u he thinks ur beautiful too 💘

do you have any tips for runing game in good quality and fast?

euhhhhh the only tips i have for you are to merge your cc, close all other programs while you play your game, maybe invest in a cooling pad uhhhhhh yeah idk any other tips you can probably find on google

You told that thing about unfollowing people and I thought you unfollowed me, but then I checked and you didn't and I'm crying omg

lmao omg ;-; i literally cut my following list in half, it was so chaotic and it was making me anxious. so if ever unfollow any of you please don’t take it personally (i know it’s a stupid thing to say, and it’s a lot easier said than done) it’s just my brain explodes when there’s too much going on at once and some content blends into others, i’m trying to only follow people who i’m genuinely interested in enough to keep up with their posts from now on

I haven't been able to sleep in over 72 hours thanks to the constant fear over the looming world war. I'm fine. Completely fine

Oh shit, have you noticed that the media has been putting out more 'what to do during a nuclear attack' kinda articles? This world is slowly going to shit, for real. I'm not even near any of the danger really, but it still absolutely terrifies me to see all of that bc it could very well go wrong and hit my place as well yknow? I have no idea why i send this to you but you seem chill and calm so thanks for reading my freakout askfjsls

YEP it’s pretty terrifying. but at the same time don’t let fear overwhelm you, fearmongering is an ugly, ugly thing and you don’t want to live your life constantly worrying. so just prepare yourself for what might come, but at the same time, just spend as much time with your loved ones as you can, do all the things you’ve ever wanted to do, and then if it doesn’t turn out as bad as we thought it would, you *tim mcgraw voice* lived like u were dyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyin’

@ Jesus anon: I really don't think it's the right time to complain about "using the lord name in vain" when there are people terrified of leaving their homes bc they are afraid to get killed (aka that poor, poor Jewish anon in charlottesville)

yeah idk like i want to respect everyone but it seemed to be in poor taste to bring that up at a time like that lmao. and also i’ve literally never in my entire life met someone who actually takes “don’t say the lord’s name in vain” seriously.

I asked about the poses and HOLY CRAP THANK YOU SO MUCH! I finally have good poses to use for story telling. Thank you soo so so so sooooo much!

YAY i’m glad you found some good stuff <3 and honestly just going through lana’s blog you’ll find a ton of good poses, it’s a gold mine

Idk how much tv you watch, but have you've ever come across a tv show that used music from The Sim? Because once in a while I'll hear Sims 3 build/buy music on some random show and I'll get a lil shook because I find it so weird that the generic music they're using comes from a major game title.

OMG LMAO NO what i wish i’d come across that tho. one time i used sims 1 music in a video i made for school and someone recognized it

I love your stories gosh I check your page "it's everyday bro with femmesim flow" Lol sorry for that awkward Jake Paul "poop" ❤️

lmao thank u i had no idea who jake paul was until my friends started talking about him

yo, I also remember once in french class real life santi asked me what videos games I like to play. When I told him the sims, he looked at me for a while and shaked his head. He was like, "why do you want to watch your sims use the toilet?"

WHY DO YOU WANT TO WATCH YOUR SIMS USE THE TOILET SAME that’s all i care about when i play

that rooney face in the 5 facts is so iconic, its my fave picture of her. You should blow it up and frame it

i should tbh. i should print it out and put it in my wallet to show everyone because she is my child

sorry the bother you, merging cc makes your game smoother? can you explain to me please?

boop

hi i love you ♡ pass it on

I LOVE U

Can I say that hearing a MacBooks fans screaming for dear life as they try to cool down when playing the sims has actually started to haunt my nightmares

SAME my macbook is actually doing it right now for no reason. thanks laptop

Maybe Santi should go to therapy to talk out his issues.

maybe he should 🤔 but tbh he’s already talked out everything, there’s nothing really more to talk out. he just has to cope with it. he’s treated lou like his therapist thus far and that’s not okay

i love ur story and omg i totally get where lou is coming from with being tired of being compared to molly by santi, thatd hurt so much esp with how much she cares about him

thank youuu ;-; i’m glad you understand, this was a part i’d wanted to get out for a loooong time now, and i know you guys were always like “um why does she put up with this” lmao. she just loves him, that’s why. but you’re right, it does hurt.

My theory is very similar to the other anons in that Fiona's dad/Lou's ex had a mental illness (schizophrenia, depression, what have you) but he actually did kill himself and that's why she's not completely losing it on Santi because I feel like most people in that situation would have not handled it as well as Lou did

🤔 you’re right about the last part, and there’s a reason she has so much patience, das all i’m sayin

i started your story from the beginning last night and i am in awe. Its amazing. It inspired me to put a little more effort in learning to edit and write. It was like reading screen caps from a movie! I didn't want to stop reading. Anyway thing was a super sappy ask, but i appreciate your stuff. And i'm bad at putting my thoughts into words.

omg ;__________; when people tell me i inspired them it means the most to me, my brain just can’t process it lmao. so thank you so so much ;-; <333 THE MOVIE THING ESPECIALLY GOT ME IN THE HEART because i feel like that’s my aesthetic with most things i create because i’m such a film person lol. don’t worry i love super sappy, and you did a good job of wording everything because it got me right in the feels <33

Okay I've been snickering for about 43 minutes bc SANTI GOT THAT GRU CHINNN

WOT is that i googled it and the only thing that came up was the dad from despicable me lmfaosdkjfs but ok

Please, please do punk edits of your some of your characters! I'd die.

WHAT DOES THIS MEANNN do you mean like. those 2010 tumblr edits of punk disney characters and then the joker from suicide squad looked like one of them. do u want santi to be the joker. because my boyfriend already relates him to suicide squad joker because of his face tatt lmao

You love to make me cry

i do i’m sorry. if it makes you feel any better i love to make myself cry too. but my biceps grow stronger with every tear

I reeeally dont think those chancla comments were offensive??? Why would they be?? I'm hispanic (born and raised in the sunny Dominican Republic, received a fair amount of chancletazos myself) and I laughed out loud when i read them 😂😂

I JUST WANT U TO KNOW I SHOWED @ichosim THIS MESSAGE AND SHE LAUGHED FOR 12 HOURS AT “CHANCLETAZOS”

whATT my little brothers name is santiago n we call him santi for short!! guess it's not rly that uncommon but we live in a small country and he's also 4 so like,, no other santiagos!! idk why im saying this its completely irrelevant just kinda surprised me :'))

OMG wow hell yeah another real life santi...santi acts like a 4 yr old so he might as well be your brother

Just curious.. Do you play sims or just use it for storytelling? Sorry if thats weird haha

well my recent gameplay pics should answer your question lmao. i do like to play but i don’t have enough time to both play and pose scenes so i mostly just pose scenes for now. :[ i am gonna be off work for like two weeks tho so hell yeah gameplay here i come!!

I'm starting a Fiona appreciation movement because she is the real star of santis story RT and i love her and she is way underappreciated and I love her KThxBi

SHE IS THE REAL STAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i’ve said this before but santi’s relationship with her is the most important to me, out of every relationship he has in this story. i’m so glad you love her so much, sorry about what’s about to come in the next few scenes tho

Oh my heart, Santi is alive, god exist

I have a pretty hard time understanding Santi's story mostly because I'm not English but I'm sure I'll figure it out:)

ahh oh no D: i’m sorry i wish i spoke every language in the world lmao. if you want, you can message me off anon and i’ll help you understand it!!

Lou is an angel honestly

“there are worse things than seeing an angel before you die”

what tablet do you use? or how do you draw hair? it looks so pretty.

omg haha i don’t have one! i wish i did tho. all of the brushes i got from deviantart, i’m trying to find the specific ones but they’re all elusive wtf. i’ll post them when i find them! for now, here’s a good guide to drawing hair, by airi <3

Nah nah I always knew you'd save him.....eheheeh.....THANK YOU FOR NOT KILLING BABBY SANTEEEEEEEEE DNDDNSKANW YOU WOULD HAVE HAD SO MUCH BLOOD ON UR HANDS AS ALL UR FOLLOWERS COLLECTIVELY DIE FROM A BROKEN HEART BUT DW WE DIDNT BECAUSE UR QN ANGEL....but I toooootally knew you'd save him... /sweats/

I’M GLAD U HAD FAITH <3 i know omfg i would’ve expected a mob at my house if i’d actually killed him. if i ever killed him i would just lay down somewhere and die. that’s it for me

Lou & molly almost always have teeth showing, do you draw them on each pic?x

no, only sometimes i’ve drawn them when i felt like their mouths weren’t matching the expression i wanted. but most of the time it’s just the pose.

is it too late to send 16k dollars to guarantee santi's inclusion in a loving home with loving friends

it is absolutely never too late to send me 16k i promise you that

I just bought school books for $550 who knew studying marine biology could be so fuckING EXPENSIVE

EWW WTF...i’ve been lucky and haven’t had to spend a ton on books in my college career (one time i even went to such lengths that i got access to free trial version of one of my school books in a pdf, screencapped EVERY SINGLE PAGE, which was more than 400 pages, just so i wouldn’t have to spend $70 on it. i love cheating the system)

waIT i never saw ur selfie where is it, must see

u could probably just search “selfie” on my blog and find it, or enjoy the ugly closeup drunk snap i posted last night

Hey guys I'm a happy trans man that has no mental illnesses. I'm fucking pissed about Trump's ban. And to any one that says it's logical FUCK YOU! I'm having flashbacks to don't ask, don't tell because this is the same fucking wacked up logic. I'm so angry, like I'm a human, yes I may require testosterone shots once a month but that's it, I even administer them to myself. I pay for them with my own god damn money so fuck you transphobic bigots who say this law is fair. It's not. WE ARE HUMAN TOO Also same anon that ranted. Sorry about that I'm just really pissed and I love and thank you for sticking up for the community. We love you and I love you. And you're right not all trans people transition. We all do what we want to. Some start on T or E and have the full surgery. Some just have top surgery. Some just do testosterone or estrogen. Some never do anything. We're all still trans and we're all valid.

YES ALL OF THIS, sorry i didn’t answer this when it was all happening. but askdkjfas thank you for this message, I LOVE YOU TOO, SO MUCH <333 and i’m glad you feel comfortable enough to voice this in my inbox. yes every trans person is valid no matter what they decide to do with their bodies <3

One of those old hot topic shirts that said " if Darryl dies we riot " but with santi instead of Darryl.

OMG LMAOOOOO NOW THAT’S A CONCEPT who’s making these i want one

your use of references and reaction pics and gifs fucken KILLS ME

Crystal anon here. I googled around my area to find there are none of those y'know, crystal, candle, incense, magic type shops. I have panic attacks when I go outside and I wanted to look into alternative stuff since I'm on meds and w/e. I wanted to know if you or friends had any experience or recommendations for buying crystals online like on etsy or amazon. How can you tell if they're real?x

ooooh ok. usually there are shops like those in cities or even in towns with like kitschy little promenades with independent shops. (i know there’s one around the town over from mine, which is so random lmao) i do have friends that have crystals but i think they mostly just collect them for the ~good vibez~ and don’t really look too far into the healing aspects of them. i would say first go with the one that coincides with your birth because those are the ones that are like specifically catered to you and strengthen your being. as for buying online, hmmmmm i mean i don’t really know any specific trustworthy sellers because i don’t have much experience with this, but definitely read the reviews! those will help you a lot <3

Hello could you please tell us how you edited the pic of rooney in that one post that the anon asked for the unedited version?

i honestly didn’t do much of anything that differs from my usual editing process! i made her eyes a bit bigger by using the clone tool, cloning the top of her eye and applying it a little bit farther up...if that makes sense. it’s hard to explain how to use that tool lmao. and i think i used the liquify tool to bring part of her eyebrow down to look more worried.

there's still a part of me that says she ain't dead and molly is just in a coma lmao end mE

OMFLDKGKJS yeah she’s not dead surprise. i WILL say there is still flashback stuff that will be revealed. well not “revealed” like molly’s death was revealed, like i just still have to showcase some things that happened afterward. because it doesn’t just end with molly’s death, there’s stuff after that as well :~}

I'm Mexican, have lived around Mexicans, have been to Mexico multiple times growing up, just came back from a family trip at practically the border between Mexico and Guatemala and never in my life have I ever heard the word "joder" i had to look it up xD (not hating or anything I just thought I'd mention it cuz I found it funny...lol) k bye...

OK NOT SURE IF the ppl you’ve been around just don’t curse or whatever but...joder is DEFINITELY something i’ve heard mexican people say before lmao

Okay so this is random, but i was telling my sister the name of one your characters in ur story (santi) and she kinda just starts singing his name, and she said "santi high, santi low, santi go." And im just sitting there, like woah.

LMFAO WHATKNJDSKJGD “woah” same

u gonna incorporate fis hat into a really like emotional sad thing in her story huh

oMG i wasn’t planning on it but hmm 🤔

Why no el chingo? NO ME GUSTA (I'm joking btw ily)

LMFAOOOO because i didn’t wanna have to defile my son by downloading the penis mod RIP

let santi grow out dem eyebrows 2kforever

omg he does let them grow out except for the little line he shaved in when he was 14 that never grew back RIP

in ur bio it says "kt" and i know why,, it means killing them as in killing off ur characters slowly i see u gurl

i bet this story was just an excuse for you to see the world burn. well done.

OMG i mean, that was definitely one of the side effects of it all. but really it was just that i NEEDED to get this story out after it had lived in my brain for so long.

ur dead 2 me

I... just.... can't... too much pain Y U DO DIS 2 UZ?!?!!!

#anonymous #nonsims #saviorhide #sunny answers

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elsewhereuniversity · 7 years

Text

Weekend Stay for Prospective Students

Weekend Stays for Prospective Students in Elsewhere University are something that had to be planned cautiously, from what places to show to what to put in the introduction pamphlets (not just information, other things too), and who were going to be Tour Guides and Hosts for the students. Being chosen for one of these jobs was an honour and a curse. To be a Guide, it was given that you should be knowledgeable about the university’s layout and surroundings, about which places were safe and which not and knowing how to react when this suddenly changed. People with authority were preferred for this spot, but sometimes it was the quiet ones who knew the school better and had some especial kind of intuition as to which places were safer. To be a Host you had to know the rules as the back of your hand, and not just know them, follow them too. Your history with the fair folk had to be as clean as possible of things like debts, favours, and people near you taken away. Here is where the curse part comes: as a Guide or Host you are responsible for a bunch of usually high school aged teenagers who sometimes weren’t good at following rules. That, of course, wasn’t a problem for Mike, he was in his senior year, and in the three years he had served as guide and host, not one single student had gotten lost. This stereotypical nerdy kid wasn’t going to be the first. *** Sarah really didn’t wanted to come here. She felt wrong, as if she was being observed from all angles, and something was also following her. But Noah, who usually wasn’t energetic about anything, had been so hyped that she really couldn’t say no. Still the weird felling prevailed, and when the guides distributed the introductory pamphlets it just intensified. First of all, if she wasn’t wrong, a little packed of what appeared to be salt or sugar wand glued to the front of the pamphlets, under it, Elsewhere University was written in a fancy font all surrounded by what appeared to be a lot of green vines, she ignored that, but she really couldn’t ignore the first thing she saw after opening the thing: a list of suggestions on how to speak, or better, how to think before speaking, immediately followed by a short set of rules. “Noah, are you seeing this? ‘Don’t make deals’? ‘Be polite to plants and animals’? What sort of- What are you doing?!” “Shh! Do you know if crows can eat jerky?” He asked, he had an open pack of jerky in his hands and was eyeing a nearby crow that appeared to returning his stare. “How would I know and where even did you got jerky? I thought you didn’t liked it,” Sarah asked, side eying the crow that appeared to be very interested in the piece of jerky that Noah was timidly offering. “A cousin from Virginia was making a visit, she brought a whole box of the stuff, I have a bunch of-” he was interrupted by one of the guides in front of everyone group. “Attention please!” The Guide, a dark haired guy who looked like he could have been a basketball player, waited until everybody was mostly quiet to talk again, “Good. Welcome to Elsewhere University, we are glad that you have chosen this university as a possible place to study, but before we give more information, I want you to open you pamphlets and pay a detention to the suggestions and the set rules written there. I ask you that you follow those rules, for your own good- and I’m not joking” he added after hearing some snickers. After a fast revision of the rules they were assigned of chose a partner from the other prospective students, just groups of two, no more. Sarah immediately took hold of Noah’s arm, he sometimes tended to be a bit distracted and had the custom of wandering off during field trips since he was in middle school. “Now, stay with your partners, and wait for your hosts, they are here to protect you, they will accompany you through all your stay here, again, for your own safety, the university grounds are vast and have a big part of forests, it’s very easy to get lost. Your hosts will review the principal rules with you in more detail before we begin our trip to the dorms.” the Guide looked down to a folder in his hands, looked around and started walking toward them. Noah looked about to ask her something (“hey have you seen my-“) but someone touched her shoulder before he could finish, “Um, excuse me, are you, um, is this your picture?” a shy looking girl was showing Sarah a picture of her in of one of those folders that all the hosts appeared to have. She wondered why her name wasn’t written there. “Yes,” she said with a smile, ”you must be my host, my name is-“ “Wait!” the girl looked altered as if Sarah was breaking some kind of federal law, and then surprised of herself for her outburst “We… we don’t use our given names here, it’s, um, a tradition of sorts, for our own protection” she kinda whispered the last part, looking around a bit, Sarah noticed that Noah was talking to the guide who was speaking earlier. His host, she guessed, “you can call me Tina, and you should come up with a nick name too,” “Um, ah, you can call me Lara, nice to meet you” she extended her hand for Tina to take, she wasn’t good coming up with things in short notice. “Yeah, me too” Tina took her hand. “So this is your friend. I’m Mike, nice to meet you miss…” Noah’s host inserted himself in the conversation, with Noah beside him. “Lara, nice to meet you too” presentations done, they made a bit of chit-chat, revised some of the rules (Sarah looked pointedly at Noah Nathan from now on, every time rules like ‘Don’t eat food that someone gives you unless you’re sure they are human’ came up) and then started walking again with the tour. Suddenly, Mike was called from ahead, he threw an apologetic smile at them, and ran to where his name was being shouted. They kept walking. Nathan looked near his feat, stopped, and started to crouch. Tina called her attention to something at the other side, just for a second, just one, and when she looked back Nathan was gone, she looked around a bit but couldn’t spot him, “Um, Tina? Did you saw Nathan walk away?” “Huh, no, why?” after a some talking, Tina had opened up a bit she was still almost painfully shy, ”Wasn’t he following us?” “Yeah, he was, but I can’t find him now” “You mean he isn’t around?” “Um, no, he just kinda disappeared, one second he was here and the next he wasn’t” Tina looked around, standing in her tiptoes trying to look over the crowd and when does couldn’t find him, she turned pale. “Oh my God” she took a deep breath, her eyes open wide, “oh my God, please no,” now Sarah was a bit scared, and also somewhat confused, “please no, not the first one in three years, not in my first year” Tina was starting to hyperventilate, typing erratically in her phone. Sarah didn’t understood why she was so altered, Nathan had just wandered off, just as always, he would come back in a few minutes. She saw Mike approach them running, evading people with a grace she wished she had. He had a worried expression on his face, but not as panicky as Tina. He immediately took hold of Sarah’s shoulders, just making her more confused about what they were freaking out, “You sure you didn’t saw him wander off?” he asked. “Um, yes, I’m sure, but, guys? Why are you so worked up? He’ll turn up in a few minutes” “No, no, you don’t understand, that’s not how it works here” Tina looked like she was having a panic attack, Sarah looked at Mike unsure of how to react. He had a sour expression on his face, but he let her go to approach Tina. “Calm down Tina, calm down, we don’t need panicking hosts, remember training. It was near this spot, right? I’ll contact the AR they know what to do, don’t worry about it and attend to your own charge” “Yes, yes,” she whispered, looking like the only thing grounding her was Mike’s hands, “I’ll do just that,” she looked closer to calm after that. Sarah was pulled away by Tina to keep going with the tour. The last thing she saw was Mike frowning while hurriedly speaking on the phone. *** Mike couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t mad with Tina, she was pretty good at this, almost no dangerous encounter in her history, but it was her first year doing this and having a really close encounter (even if she didn’t saw it) during her firsts time probably wasn’t good, so it wasn’t her fault. No, he was mad at himself. He had years in this. Four years to be exact, the first freshman to participate in planning. He was the one people (especially freshies) came for help, he was supposed to be trust worthy. And then his charge (his charge) was lost in to the Other realm. He couldn’t really know what was being bargained with the Fae, he wasn’t a AR (couldn’t be, really, his major and ‘always ready for danger’ personality caused both respect and fear, but sometimes bit too much fear and anyone would feel cornered and attack, so he couldn’t approach the fae), but he knew that they weren’t making a lot of advances; Fae were chaotic neutral, but sometimes, some of them fit the chaotic part more than the neutral, and it so happens that his charge was lured by one of those. They tried to control this with agreements and other things, but every few groups of prospective students, one or two got lost, and without knowing the rules or constant contact with the fair folk to learn the most basic unwritten rules, they were more difficult to be returned. His charge, Nathan, was a nice kid, a bit too peppy for his taste, but he was overall nice: followed the rules without questions, and, curiously, seemed to have a connection with the place. If he decided to study here, he would have done well, but now they probably wouldn’t even know. They tried to keep it as quiet as possible, no one outside the weekend event organisers and AR were allowed to know to not scare the prospective students away. One day, 6 hours and counting. Tomorrow evening was the end of the weekend event, guests were supposed to go back to their homes. The event had been a blast for them, but all the school residents in the know were worried underneath, they just knew how to hide it better. *** It was the morning of the last day. Sarah had slept a total of 6 hours in her whole stay here, she hadn’t texted or called he parents in fear of revealing something in accident. They had explained her everything (or as much as they dared to say aloud). Fae. The fairy tales, those that her grandmother liked to tell her, had just turned into a more morbid- realistic view. Noah had been kidnapped by the Fae. Well, not really, but something like it, and now he was lost on the “Other Real”, a difficult place to get to and even more difficult to get out of. She understood the names thing now, Names have power, more power than ever should be assigned to something so simple. She was standing near the place with other Tina who was trying get to console her, other university students were passing near. Crows were unusually loud that day. She wasn’t sure why they were standing there, it was her decision, but that didn’t meant that she understood it. She supposed it was a way of coping, and that maybe, if she wished hard enough, he would just come out stumbling from the trees…. …Just like he was doing right now. “No- Nathan!” he tripped on something and took a hold of a branch for support, “My God, Nathan, are you ok? Are you hurt? Do you remember me?” She ran to him, being careful to not touch him in case he was hurt, he looked tired, but happy, well, not happy, satisfied was more like it, and a bit more confident than two days ago. He still had his backpack with him, if a bit lighter, his clothes looked ruffled and a bit dirty, but not much. “I’m glad to see you too, Lara, I’m ok, I’m not hurt, and yes, Lara, I remember you, but first things first. Let’s find food, I’m starving” she was happy to obey. *** After he was fed and watered, and a comfy as he could without taking a shower Sarah asked him why he had wandered off “My keys. I had lost them near there, and I saw something shiny on the floor, so I confused it with them”. Someone, he thought it was his host, but he wasn’t sure, Some specific recent things were a bit fuzzy in his mind, asked how he had gotten out. “I followed the crows, of course, very trusty fellows if you treat them well” If he took two extra salt packets from the cafeteria and stuffed them in his pockets, nobody said anything; if not two weeks later he decided on getting hire ears pierced and was looking for iron and silver earrings, Sarah preferred not to comment; and if that year he only applied for Elsewhere University and nothing else, his parents took a look at the place’s prestigious reputation and decided it was better to ignore it. *** In campus, the tale of the prospective student who managed to get out of the Other realm by his own will, would continue to spread. Facts changing to make it more interesting (“He came out with the Sight”, “He was blessed by the Queen-“(“Don’t ever mention the Queen, you idiot!”), “He went back in a few hours after and hasn’t been spotted since then”), but if you went near the tree where crows liked to congregate, you may see (very probably) a student, a bit nerdy, but confident, with an aura that seem to fit with the place, feeding the crows, and smiling like he knew something they didn’t every time he herd the tale. ***** Note: It’s been a long while since I’ve written something that wasn’t a school paper, I think it is glaringly obvious in my inability to write actually short stories. Anyway, when I saw the Elsewhere University post I experienced love at first sight and after reading some asks about prospective students and some people that just seemed to fit in the university this was born. I apologise for the length, I really tried to make it short (yes, it was way longer before editing).

(X)

#crystal-silver-moon #stories #stolen away #prospective students #for some people it clicks #Nathan #submission

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