#Dougie and Mark together again

[shetlandfics]

Dougie and Mark in Agatha Christie

#Murder is Easy #Agatha Christie #Douglas Henshall #Mark Bonnar #Dougie and Mark together again #But English! #They were both ace in this #And got a scene together #Woot!

[upontherisers]

in the cold spring

a/n: i'm in a writing mood recently! disclaimer: i haven't read mota or on a wing and a prayer yet so i do not know anything about jack kidd's life beside what is available on the 100th bomb group's website, so consider some details ~exaggerated for dramatic effect~. title is from ml burch's "i feel like giving you things" and this fic is about neither the cold or the spring, but it fits.

Goddamn Air Exec. 

Jack says goddamn Air Exec from the moment Bucky tells him that Hughlin recommended him, through two rounds of meetings with Harding—call me Chick—and Bowman—call me Red, through moving into the ops barracks, through shaking a thousand hands, and through getting a desk. Goddamn Air Exec. Goddamn Egan, goddamn Hughlin, and goddamn Air Exec.

His crew, his fort, and his dignity all because Bucky purposely flunked out of the tower. And Buck vouched for him! Goddamn Cleven and goddamn Air Exec. All of his training out the window for a desk in a corner office. He can’t even see the runway through the blinds, just the backroads of East Anglia and occasionally the Land Army girls and their cows. Five hundred hours of flight school for a desk in a corner office and a secretary.

“A secretary?” he asks as Harding points at a small station outside Jack’s newly-labeled office.

Chick nods. “Yes, Lieutenant Keene.” He looks around the busy floor, eventually settling on who he’s searching for. “There she is… Hazel!”

A head pops up from the mass of moving bodies and paper and a woman quickly makes her way across the room, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. As she approaches, she’s smiling with a brightness that goes all the way to her warm, round brown eyes, hand outstretched for another yet another handshake. Goddamn Air Exec, but he’s less bitter about it.

“Jack, I assume you’ve met Lieutenant Keene—”

“Hazel, I insist.” Her grip is firm and as warm as her eyes.

They met the few times when he had to go to Bucky’s office—his office now—and she was waiting at her station outside. He remembers her as polite but busy, inoffensively curt. Not one of the staff who blathers away, overly chipper and overly interested in the reason for his visit, but also not one of the ones who snaps at him to sit and wait and then ignores him like he’s the reason they’re losing the war. Hazel’s friendly and effective, a good temperament for a C.O. He wonders why she’s in here and not up in the air.

“Good to see you again.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Jack, I insist.”

Her smile widens just so, and he has a feeling that they’re going to work well together.

She turns to Chick and nods to where she came from. “Last of the after actions for the 418th—” Jack pretends that doesn't hurt to hear. He should’ve been up there with his boys. Goddamn Air Exec. “—I’ll have ‘em to Sheila in fifteen, and I’ll be at my desk after that, in case you need anythin’.”

It takes him a moment to realize she’s speaking to him, and he mumbles an ‘of course’ at his shoes. He’s a man who gets waited on now; it would take some time to get used to. She departs with another smile and heads back into the fray.

As Chick leads Jack around the rest of the space, showing him charts and maps and a million other semi-familiar faces, he remains acutely aware of Hazel. She’s speaking to a WAC as they go over some maps, marking here and there, her encouraging smile no doubt prompting stellar work from the younger girl. He’s reminded of Ev, the way his friend’s genial countenance can turn a boring day kicking around the hard stand into a respite and a rough flight home from a mission into a night at a comedy club.

Then he misses his friends—Ev, Dougie, Crosby and the man the navigator has become since getting kicked off of the Crash Wagon. He misses hearing DeMarco and Cleven bicker as they climb into their fort, that damn dog never far behind as Lemmons likes to sneak him out onto the hard stand. He misses the feeling of sitting in his seat and the controls roaring to life under his fingers as he hears his crew get ready at their guns. He misses looking out the window to see Ginny settling into her cockpit to his right, grinning like it’s Christmas morning and popping her gum into her headset receiver to set off Knick Knack at her navigator’s seat.

He even misses Bucky and his plane-to-plane chatter, always vigilant, always watching out for his squadron, his group, and the rest of the wing. He misses the man Bucky can be in the air as opposed to the faux-apologetic fast-talker that landed Jack at a desk in the first place. Goddamn Air Exec.

But then he comes back to Hazel and the scrunch of her nose as she stretches her arms above her head with a yawn. She slumps back onto the desk she’s sitting on, looking around the room curiously before meeting Jack’s eyes and nodding. He nods back before Chick drags him off to some new wonder.

She’s at her desk in fifteen minutes like she told him she would be and sticks her head into his office with a smile. She smiles a lot. “I’m back. Holler if you need anything.”

By the time he can look up from the file he’s puzzling over, she breezes back to her desk and immediately busies herself at her typewriter.

He doesn’t know what to do with her. The other C.O.’s have their secretaries do the standard—take memos, keep their schedules, make coffees—but that seems insulting. She’s here to win a war; he wasn’t going to send her scrambling for sugar. On the other hand, it’s insulting not to utilize her, as sharp and reliable as she is. His father would find her a task and a ring, which he had with his last three secretaries. Jack had no intention of using his rank like that. He’ll find something for Hazel to do. It just has to be the right thing.

And he searches for too long, it seems, because after three days of greeting her when he arrives in the morning and occasionally asking her where certain stationery was stored, she steps into his office post-lunch and plops down in the chair in front of his desk with a sigh. Her eyebrows raise and she wears a bemused smile as she folds her hands in her lap. She reminds him of Bucky for a moment.

“Was it something I said?”

He shakes his head. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t notice his lack of engagement, or perhaps would lean into not having much on her plate. “I’ve never had a secretary before.”

“Most men haven’t.” She leans forward and starts picking at a chip in the wood of his desk. “Your job is my job, too.”

“You seem busy enough.” She does. Every time he looks out into the hall, she’s up to something, whether it’s at her desk, in the filing cabinets along the walls behind her, or somewhere on the ops floor. She knows what she’s doing; he’s the one who’s lost.

Her mouth purses. “Not for long. I’ll be done with the backlog Bucky left by EOD.”

“I’m sorry he left so much—”

Her exaggerated eye roll surprises him. “That’s the point, Jack. It’s too much work for any one man.”

Goddamn Air Exec.

“But that’s why you got me. We’re a team… so,” she raps his desk twice, “put me in, Coach.”

He wants to say something, to have an important Air Exec order or some example for her to follow, but as he looks into her expectant face, he comes up short. He hasn’t eaten yet today, but he’d shoot himself in the foot before he ever made her go to the mess for him. She reads him like a book, which only further rankles his sense of command.

“Well, what’s all this?” She spreads her hands over the papers in front of her.

“Interrogation logs, new crew files—” He points at a pile Chick’s aide had delivered that morning. “I need to get those back to Harding as soon as I sign them.”

“Sign ‘em now and I’ll run ‘em over.”

“No.” This is exactly what he’s been avoiding, assigning her utter tedium. 

She pushes the papers toward him. “C’mon.”

He blinks at her before opening the file. It’s some report or inventory request, or both or neither, which he has no idea why he has to sign, but he’ll do it because that’s job along with waiting around and going to briefings and briefings about briefings. Not even a week in and he was ready to crawl out of his skin or at least out the window. Chick denied both his requests to fly so he’s truly stuck in this office for who knows how long. Goddamn Air Exec.

Two signatures, three, four, five—Hazel points to hidden dotted lines, flipping through the pages without a second glance, and Jack can’t help but feel like she’s tying his shoes. That probably flew with Bucky, but it wouldn’t with him. They gave him the promotion because they knew he could do the job well and he agreed. This is something he could be good at. A team of subordinates was a perk of the job, expected for a man of such a station, and he’s grateful that folks were will to help out, but he’d grown up watching secretaries turn from aides to mother-wives and he doesn’t want that for anyone, especially a gal as nice as Hazel. He’ll find something for her to do.

He signs the last page and closes the file as Hazel stands, hand outstretched. Pausing for a moment, he doesn’t pass it over quite yet. “I don’t want you being my errand girl.”

She reaches across the desk and plucks the file from him. “It’s my job.”

She turns on a graceful heel and heads out across the floor, making it to Harding’s office and back before he could find it in him to stop staring at her confident, unaffronted gait. Bright laughter—the brightest he’s ever heard—bubbles out of her as she tucks her skirt under her thighs and takes a seat at her desk.

“You could’ve signed three more reports in the time that took me. Now I’m gonna have to wait for you.” She tsked. “Wastin’ both our time.”

She’s tying his shoes again and that lights a fire under his ass for the rest of the day. He clears the files that had accumulated on his desk plus two rounds of parts inventory from the hard stand and he gets a memo off to London requesting more birds. He feels satisfied by the time he flicks off the light and gathers his jacket and coat. It sure wasn’t flying, but it felt like making a difference all the time. He didn’t know he could do that from behind a desk.

It takes some soul-searching, but he manages to light his own fire for the rest of the week. He maintains his composure through the worst of it, a long fog delay that had half his pilots climbing into the tower to beg him for clearance, a ‘misplaced’ delivery of Mae Wests that somehow ended up with the 418th before they came to ops, and another declined request to fly from Harding. Goddamn Air Exec. 

The job gets easier each day, especially with Hazel right outside the door. It does feel more like a team than subordination as they move around each other, trading reports and memos without having to speak. Still, she’s a few steps ahead of him—coming through the door before he can call her to pick up a file, finding this or that form before he can realize he’s misplaced it—but he’s determined to catch up. He comes in early on Saturday and has the summarized after action reports in Chick’s office before Hazel’s arrived for the day. It’s a good feeling when her eyes go wide in surprise and her cheery mouth finds its usual smile.

“Well, I suppose we’re even now.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “not even close.”

If they’re really going to be a team, he’s going to even the playing field. No more having her play governess. Neither of them are here to clean up after someone else.

That evening, Hazel is leaning into Chick’s doorway as Jack leaves for the day, chatting with Sheila. 

He mumbles a ‘pardon me’ as he passes and her face lifts at the sight of him. “Major Kidd! We were just talkin’ about you.”

“You were?” he asks as they fall into lockstep on their way out. 

“We were sayin’ how nice it is to have an Air Exec who knows what he’s doin’.”

“Bucky tried his best.” He’s lying.

She knows it and she snorts. “He was fun to have around, certainly.”

It’s quiet as they walk. The flights have stopped for the day and if he strains his ears he’d be able to hear the crews working away on the hard stand, but there’s no need for that now. That’s another thing he’s learning—when he’s doing the job and when he’s not. With the warm evening air and the blazing sunset in front of them, he’s grateful for the time off the clock.

He looks at Hazel and is struck by the sight. The light washes her dark cherrywood skin in a velvet glow, sending shadows of her lashes and her nose across her face. He’s suddenly jealous of Bucky and he doesn't know why. She catches his eye and smiles. Blanching, he clears his throat and stares at the ground. His boots are the cleanest they’ve been since he’s been in England now that he’s out of the grease and dust of the planes. Goddamn Air Exec.

They’re nearly at the ops barracks when he realizes that he doesn’t know where she’s going. Does she live in the barracks? Is she one of the girls who’s at a billet in town? Why doesn’t he know? Shouldn’t he know? She’s never in the mess and is so rarely at the Silver Wings. He wonders what she does with her time. He realizes he doesn’t know much about her at all, not her hometown, her family, where she was before the Air Force. The Oberlin pennant on the wall in his office had prompted her to ask into his life, but that’s because she’s always where he is, but he’s never where she is. He wants to be.

“Where’re you headed?”

She comes to a stop. “Home.”

“Where’s that?”

Her wry smile makes his heart skip a beat as she turns down the path leading toward the enlisted barracks. “Good evening, Major.” She never calls him that.

“Some of us’ll be at the pub tonight—Chick, Red, Bucky… it’d be good to see you.” He takes a half-step toward her so as not to yell the offer, maybe she’ll take it if he’s gentle. Part of him hopes she’ll say yes. He wants time with her outside of keeping the group on its feet, just an hour to hear her laugh, to ask her where she gets that charming accent from, to ask her for a dance. Part of him hopes she’ll give him one more good smile and walk away, that she’ll remind him there are rules, lines to be maintained. He’s not going to become his father.

“Good evening,” she repeats and he watches her go. He doesn’t have time to dwell on the ache in his chest as Cros yells at him from across the way. He’ll have his night and she’ll have hers.

He’s not sure if he should apologize for being out of turn when he sees her next, clear the air and make it clear that he’s not… he isn’t going to be that man. He reasons to himself that wants to know her as a teammate, in the same way he’d come to know the members of his crew. It’s what any good leader does. There’s a short speech ready to go when he enters HQ Monday morning after seeing the forts off.

She greets him as politely as she always has, but he gets the feeling he probably wouldn’t be able to tell if she’s upset. Her cards are meticulously close to her chest while she learns about the people around her. It’d be a good quality in a C.O. He thinks of all the women he’d just sent to Norway—Ginny, Vera, Amelie, Suzanne. Hazel would fit right in.

There’s a small box on his desk, no sender address upon investigation. “Hazel?”

“Yeah?” she asks as she gets up from her desk.

“Do you know who this is from?” He’s popping open one end with his letter opener.

“Oh, well,” she starts, folding her arms and leaning against the doorframe, “it’s from my momma” Her inflection is that of an embarrassed and entertained daughter. 

A swath of white silk flutters to the floor and he picks it up. It’s a scarf decorated with rows of small and large flowers. From… from her mother?

“I—I, uh, I wrote her about you and she insisted on sending it. Bucky got one, too, when he started.”

He couldn’t recall Bucky ever wearing a scarf. “What’d he do with it?”

She scoffs. “God knows. I don’t think he remembers getting it. It was one of his… one of his mornings.”

“Hungover?”

“Still drunk.”

Closing distance, she takes the scarf from him gently and tosses it around his shoulders. She’s so near now as she starts tying it and he can look at her while she concentrates, her eyes glittering with that hope that never seems to fade. Does her mother have the same eyes? The same round apples of her cheeks, the lovely point of her chin? And her perfume, the faint hint of roses he occasionally gets during the day now in full force as she works. He feels flush and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands or where to put his eyes or what to say. A woman who’d only heard about him in letters sent her daughter to war and is sending him beautiful scarves. That’s the kind of woman who would raise Hazel.

“I always tell her that this is unnecessary, that y’all have mommas of your own to fuss over ya,” she says as she adjusts the knot at his neck and smoothes her hands over his shoulders.

“I—I don’t,” he stammers out. 

Her eyes widen and he hates the kick in his chest. “Oh, I’m—I’m so sorry, Jack, I had no idea.”

He waves her off but can’t quite find the words. There’s a yearning suddenly, one he left in the dark years ago, and he doesn’t know what’ll come out if he tries to name it. Hazel puts a comforting hand on his arm and looks at him sympathetically. “Well, I’ll tell my momma to keep sending scarves… only if—if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I could use a few more of these,” he says, glancing down at the knot at his neck. He probably looks ridiculous wearing it without the rest of his flight gear, but the accomplished smile on Hazel’s face is worth it. He’ll bear all the stares in the world if it keeps her smiling. 

She gives him one more once over before returning to her desk. “It’s a good color on you.”

“Matches my eyes?”

“Something like that.” She winks. 

His stomach flips; he thinks of his father and three weddings. 

“Oh,” she calls, “you can keep it on.”

He raises an interested eyebrow.

“The Telergma mission, you’re going. Chick sent authorization this morning.”

Three days later, Ev’s the only one who comments on Jack’s new gear after they finally get the all-clear for engine start.

“That from Franny?” his co-pilot asks. It’s a good guess; his sister would send something like it. 

“Lieutenant Keene’s mother sent it.”

Ev scoffs with a shake of his head. “Your secretary’s mother is sending you scarves? Goddamn Air Exec.”

Yeah, Jack thinks, smirking out the window and sitting a little taller. Goddamn Air Exec.

#my writing #hazel keene #jack kidd x oc #masters of the air #straighten up and fly right #jack x hazel #some of y'all have neat little banners for all of your works and i want one of those i just don't know how to make them #also this ended up being way more of a jack character study than a true intro to hazel because i wrote it in his pov instead of hers #also i can't decide if this universe is in present or past tense. who's to say

[toasttt11]

marks again

October 11, 2023

Sebastian, Luke and Jack all walked into the locker room about to have their last practice before the first game of the season tomorrow.

Sebastian and Luke headed to their stalls and were staring a conversation with John and Alex when Sebastian took off his hoodie and leaned down to grab his workout long sleeve when he heard Nate snickering.

“Jeez were you with a vampire Bolds?” Nate smirked as he saw all the hickeys and scratches across Sebastian’s neck, arms, chest and back.

“Damn Seb.” Curtis let out a chuckle, “Who did you see the last few days?” Curtis noisily prodded wondering who Sebastian slept with over the few days off.

Luke let out a small snicker but just continued to look down at his stall getting dressed, the smirk on his face was very proud. He had a lot of marks too but they were more hidden than Sebastian’s.

Jack looked up and gaged seeing Sebastian covered, “No no no. We are not talking about my little brother’s sex life.” Jack quickly protested and everyone thought he was only talking about Sebastian but no one knew he was talking about both of his little brothers.

Jack realized what the two did together when he was gone all day yesterday.

Dougie let out a laugh shaking his head and patted Jacks shoulder mockingly enjoying that Jack is one grossed out this time.

Nico titled his head thoughtfully as he noticed Jack said brothers not just brother, he looked over at Luke and saw a smirk on his face and Nico noticed a few smaller hickeys on him, Nico hummed realizing he’s been correct all along.

Sebastian just shrugged not at all ashamed or embarrassed by any one of the marks because they were from Luke.

#sebastianboldyau #sb12 #luke hughes #luke hughes x oc #jack hughes #jack hughes x oc #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x oc #matt boldy #mackie samoskevich #matty beniers #dylan duke #ethan edwards #mark estapa #luca fantilli x oc #adam fantilli #rutger mcgroarty x oc #seamus casey #umich hockey #new jersey devils #nico hischier x oc #dawson mercer #simon nemec #alex holtz x oc #jesper bratt #curtis lazar #john marino x oc #nhl x oc #nhl au #nico daws

[wyattjohnston]

here we are! finally with the masterlist! all the thanks in the world to the 39 people who signed up for the exchange and the lovely D who came in as my saviour and wrote a pinch hitter fic without even being signed up

please read all the fics below, so much love and care was put into them and they all deserve your attention. a reblog if you can would also be incredible.

please respect all warnings at the beginning of fics. if a fic has been marked as smut or 18+ and you are younger than, do the right thing and do not read it.

keep your eye out for the winter fic exchange 2k24 sign up post. if you want me to let you know when it's happening you can click here.

the summer fic exchange 2k23 masterlist

Buffalo Sabres

Jeff Skinner

gotta trust how you feel inside by @laurenairay for @ nhl-stories

Tyson Jost

i should've fought harder by @butgilinsky for @ typical-simplelove

a Devon Levi fic was written by @waysicouldhave for @ jackhues but they have since deactivated.

Carolina Hurricanes

Andrei Svechnikov

Every Summer Has a Story by @comphy-and-cozy for @teokka

HATE HATE HATE by @luvmmarner for @ comphy-and-cozy this is a multi-chaptered fic, so keep an eye on it!

How Long? by @lifeofpriya for @ luvmmarner

Colorado Avalanche

Cale Makar

all's well that end's well to end up with you by @fallinallincurls for @ ya-pucking-nerd

i've found love (and all that goes with it) by @huttons for @ fallinallincurls

Mikko Rantanen

Do That by @selfindulgentpoorlywritten for @ kurlyteuvo

Summer Baby by @typical-simplelove for @ buttercupjosh

Nathan MacKinnon

It Starts With a Cookie by @luvsherleafs for @ princessphilly

Dallas Stars

Jake Oettinger

taking on the world together by @laurenairay for @ jarmorie

Los Angeles Kings

Pierre-Luc Dubois

as the seasons change by @gravestrain for @ bqstqnbruin

never said a thing by @wyattjohnston for @ pcttymarleau

Minnesota Wild

Marc-André Fleury

Genève by @teokka for @ callsign-denmark

Montreal Canadiens

Juraj Slafkovsky

If I Say It, Will You Respond? by @puckmaidens for @ 2manytabsopen

Nashville Predators

Tyson Barrie

simple by @jxmieoleksiaks for @ laurenairay

New Jersey Devils

Dougie Hamilton

hydrangeas where your face should be by @nhl-stories for @ huttons

Jack Hughes

make it weird by @wyattjohnston for @ torontoflames

something in the way she moves by @miracleonice87 for @ wyattjohnston

Nico Hischier

See You Again by @bqstqnbruin for @ selfindulgentpoorlywritten

Underneath the Stars by @buttercupjosh for @ ilyasorokinn

Timo Meier

Sweet Like Cinnamon by @wildrangers for @ matthewtkachuk

New York Islanders

Ilya Sorokin

Polaroid Dreams by @kurlyteuvo for @ lifeofpriya

Mat Barzal

Alone With You by @cellythefloshie for @ miracleonice87

Disney Magic by @lam-ila for @ tinyhockey

tell me why by @torontoflames for @ luvsherleafs

where you lead i will follow by @ilyasorokinn for @prettytoxicrevolver

Pittsburgh Penguins

Sidney Crosby

Triple Axle Celly by @callsign-denmark for @ starshine-hockey-girl

Ryan Graves

a lake house story by @ya-pucking-nerd for @ thomasschabot

Seattle Kraken

Jamie Oleksiak

to the ends of the earth by @jarmorie for @ laurenairay

Tampa Bay Lightning

Brayden Point

one day all my love will come back to me by @matthewtkachuk for @ senditcolton

Toronto Maple Leafs

Matthew Knies

being a good man by @pcttymcrlecu for @ gravestrain

Vancouver Canucks

Anthony Beauvillier

Alone With You by @cellythefloshie for @ miracleonice87

The Invisible String by @starshine-hockey-girl for @ jarmorie

Quinn Hughes

i can still see it all by @ghostyjosty (jostystyles) for @ wildrangers

mango dragon refresher by @jackhues for @ lam-ila

saw you in a dream by @thomasschabot for @ puckmaidens

Surprise Party by @prettytoxicrevolver for @ ghostyjosty

Vegas Golden Knights

Nolan Patrick

Soothing Swedish Summers by @2manytabsopen for @ waysicouldhave

Winnipeg Jets

Adam Lowry

breakable heaven by @senditcolton for @ cellythefloshie

i am slowly making my own way through reading all the fics--if i haven't read yours and you want to make sure i don't forget, please send it to me.

if the person you wrote for hasn't read and reblogged your fic, please tell me.

#the summer fic exchange 2k23 #exchange masterlist #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #lmao called it the 2k24 masterlist and no one told me #making us all time travel

[actordougjones]

Helen Chavez 1959 ~ 2020

Sitting in silent conflict today, some numbness, many tears, grief, and the happiest memories that make my heart smile. To lose a close friend (whom I referred to as my big sister for the last 16 years) to complications from covid-19 and other health issues, is a blow I could not be prepared for. Yet to sit with my memories of her is a relished joy.

Many knew her as “Hellmistress” on the Sony Pictures Hellboy message boards in 2003. As I was an occasional visitor in those boards while filming Hellboy, I took special note of the witty, gentle, sarcastic, encouraging posts from this woman I found myself wanting to know more of.

She made her way into those message boards by way of her love for Ron Perlman, as she also was a contributing writer for a site called ThePerlmanPages dot com. But once in there, and once we got to interacting, Helen and I both found kindred spirits in each other, about the same age, about the same irreverent sense of humor.

She jokingly described herself as “windswept and interesting.” When we finally met in person the first time around the premiere events Guillermo del Toro had arranged for these fans of Hellboy in April 2004, I found this description of her to be true.  All I had to hear was that Helen had sold a cow to finance her flight from Scotland, and I knew I was right about this one!  Yes, she and her husband Mark raised cattle on their rural farm outside Aberdeenshire, Scotland.  But she was also a highly knowledgeable archivist at the local museum there.  With a thirst for learning, and a lover of history, artifacts, classic film, TV, music, literature, science fiction, and all things geekery, she did indeed earn her “windswept and interesting” title.

(Our first in-person meeting after “Hellebration” 2004 with Sony Pictures Hellboy message board regulars, Left to Right: Maurice Mpayamaguru, Dougie, Pat Paone, Helen Chavez - who was so excited to be having a burger with American ketchup!)

She flew away the next day in 2004, but that would not be the last of this Helen. Upon returning home to Scotland, her friend and ThePerlmanPages creator Pat Paone (who had also been on this trip) said something to Helen that lingered in the air... “After this entire ‘Hellebration’ weekend in Los Angeles, do you realize you haven’t stopped talking about Doug Jones?” which struck Helen odd since she was a devout Perlman fan who was gushing about someone other than Ron after a weekend to celebrate a movie in which Ron held the title character.

That’s when I received an email from Helen proposing an official website she wanted to create for me. So was born TheDougJonesExperience dot com, a site that was lovingly poured over and updated by Helen as her pet project that she never let me pay a dime for, no matter how I tried, from 2004 to 2014, when her own life required her to take pause. That pause from the site included finishing up her Masters Degree, still working full time at the museum, still tending the cattle, and now caregiving to her husband’s failing health ... followed by her own health issues.

She was ever the stoic type, though, who never ever, EVER wanted to be a burden on me, so I would rarely hear of her trials in life unless I told her, “I’m not hanging up until you start talking.”  She would always brush off her own issues and turn things back around to doting on me like the protective big sister she loved being.  She also took in Mrs. Laurie as her little sister with great pride.

To sum up the amount of life shared with this incredible woman would take volumes.  Volumes that could be tied together with one thread.... “cheerleader.” She championed me personally and professionally with the kind of care and tireless energy that gave my own mother and Mrs. Laurie a run for their money!

Her cheerleading came in the form of not only that exhaustive website with endless fan correspondence as she wrote with a voice that was uncannily like my own, then later helping administrate “The Tank” forum on DelToroFilms dot com where “FanSapiens” would gather to chat about little ol’ me, but also trips to see me when I was in the United Kingdom for a fan convention in Birmingham, or a make-up trade show in London.  She also ingratiated herself to Guillermo del Toro and was invited to visit our Hellboy II: The Golden Army filming set in Budapest with her old friend Pat Paone, spending a large part of that visit with me through my whole day, from make-up, to the Troll Market set, to lunchtime, to afternoon naps in my trailer for all of us, to touring the city on a rare day off. 

(During Hellboy 2 set visit 2007 at Budapest, Hungary’s “Hero Square” pictured Left to Right: Pat Paone, Dougie, Helen Chavez)

And I could never tally up the countless hours of phone chats, messenger chats, book-length emails, where she was often celebrating successes with me, calming my nerves when I had failed, giving me some well-needed big sisterly advice on life, or playfully nagging me to sleep and eat more.  Boy, was she ever stern about those last two.  If I even hinted that I had been pushing myself too hard, not sleeping enough, not eating right, she would give me “the look.”  You don’t want “the look.”   It was that raised eyebrows, all-knowing eyes searing into me kind of look, with a probing stare over the top of her glasses into my soul kind of look. You could hide nothing from her when she gave “the look.”

I adored hearing all her tales from her museum, getting history lessons all the while about who used what in what century in what country for what purpose, everything from farm tools to ancient toilet paper.  To keep me in her loop, one year for Christmas she sent me some ancient Roman coins, after I had mentioned how I love looking at coins, waving it off with, “those things are so easy to come by.” Her gifts were always accompanied by authentic Scottish shortbread cookies.  But my favorite story of hers was the mummy head she had no better place for, so he lived under her desk ... for years.  And of course, she named him “Marlon.”

I’ve always been a hugger, but Helen is the one who taught me about “Bosies.” The difference being that a Bosie is a huggle that doesn’t need to end anytime soon, where you envelop the other person in a cradle that makes them feel safe.  She was masterful at those Bosies.

I could tell Helen stories for hours, as could so many of you puppies whose lives she touched with her listening skills, mentorship, and her tireless encouragement to keep all of us creatives reaching for our dreams.

(Pictued at “Hellebration” 2008 with “FanSapiens” Left to Right: Tim Rosenberger, Katie McGregor, Helen Chavez, Stephanie Metz, Dougie, Kate Daley, Seth Lombardi)

(Pictured at Hellboy 2 premiere after party 2008 with DelToroFilms regulars; Top row: Paul Kindschi, Gary Deocampo, Maurice Mpayamaguru. Bottom row: Helen Chavez, Dougie)

But I’ll leave you with one last story.  It was 2008, and we flew Helen out to Los Angeles (I didn’t want her to sell another cow) to join all the festivities for the premiere week of Hellboy II: The Golden Army, and to see the finished product of the film set she visited with me the year before. Everything from having a salon day with Mrs. Laurie to get all done up for the red carpet premiere, and the next day she was sporting a fancy fish-print top to dutifully lead Team Blue (those beloved FanSapiens) at the Del Toro sponsored “Hellebration” party and screening night. Another experience I wanted to give her that week was her first press junket, so Mrs. Laurie gladly went to her own job that day, and Helen went with me down to the Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills, where many film press junkets take place on a floor full of press suites. These are high energy days, as one after another, TV, radio, print, and dot com journalists interview us back to back all day. Helen watched from behind the monitors with Publicist John, and every time I glanced over, she was just beaming as she gave me a thumbs-up. At the end of this marathon day, we were heading home in the back of the studio-hired limo, and my eyes were getting droopy in the dark.  Helen glanced over the top of her glasses with “the look” and said with all the doting mother, favorite auntie, protective big sister she had in her, “Awe, little brother mine, come here.” I leaned my head onto her shoulder, while she pet my hair and told me how overjoyed she was with this phase of my life, and how watching me handle all the press that day made her “buttons burst with pride,” a phrase she used many a time. She always knew how to bring such peace, such calm, such encouragement, such a safe harbor.  The next thing I knew the car stopped in front of the house, and I awoke with her still holding my weary head.

Oh how I wish for one more limo ride.  One more chance to soak in her uplifting words, so I might know how to handle whatever comes next.

She went by many names -- Hellmistress, Webmaster Helen, or her preferred “Webmistress” Helen, Auntie Helen, Mentor Helen, Therapist Helen, Dear Friend Helen, Big Sister Helen, but there was only one Helen in this wacky world. She leaves a void that no one else can fill. It’s painful how much I miss her already.

I pray the angels gave her a thrilling ride to her rightful place in Heaven.  I can almost feel her gaze again right now, as she sits at the edge of a crescent moon, tilts her gaze down over the top of her glasses and gives me “the look”.....

Alright, Big Sis, I’ll eat something and get to sleep now. 

#rip #hellmistress #webmaster helen #sister #dear friend

[whockeywhore]

Skip Over It 8.25

I woke up to the bed next to me empty and Dougie standing over me, his hand on my shoulder giving me a gentle shake. 

“What?” 

“Do you have a flat head screwdriver?” I sat up a bit and asked him to repeat himself. “A screwdriver. Like this.” 

He held an open book of instructions close to my face and I studied it. “Maybe under the sink? There should be a box of them.” 

“I found a box marked tools but... I’ll check under the sink.” 

I sank back into bed as he left and listened to him fumble around my apartment, his heavy steps echoing off of the hardwood floors and the relatively bare walls. My eyes were growing heavy again when I sat up, jumping out of bed and creeping down the hall. 

He was sitting in the middle of the room surrounded by the contents of one of my Ikea boxes, studying a pamphlet with my reading glasses sitting low on his nose. I leaned against the wall and took it all in for a moment before clearing my throat. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Putting together this bookshelf. Can you read Spanish?” He held the book out to me and I took it, flipping it over to the English side before handing it right back. 

“Why?” 

“Because I’m tired of slamming into it every time I try to leave.” 

“You haven’t-” He pulled up the pant leg of his sweats and pointed to a large bruise on his shin. There was a matching one on the other side and I stifled a laugh. “That’s what you get for sneaking out.” 

“I was just getting up to make coffee.” I eyed the empty pot and looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. “I never got to it.” 

He busied himself with assembling furniture and I turned my attention to making coffee, pouring a mug for both of us. I set his on the coffee table and sank onto the couch. The moment was sweet and I watched him work for a few minutes, admiring the view of his bare upper body. He turned to reach for the mug and stopped when he saw me. 

“What?” I shook my head and he smirked. “You likin’ the view?” 

“Maybe.” 

He crawled over to me on his knees and leaned in for a kiss. I scooted closer to the edge of the couch and sucked on his bottom lip. The quiet groan that rumbled in his chest had my stomach flipping and I smiled, running my fingers through his hair as we parted. The promise he’d made last night came to mind as he sank down, lifting my legs to set on his shoulders. 

He ran his beard along the inside of my thigh and repeated the action on the other before looking up at me with a grin. 

“Nobody likes a tease, Hamilton.” 

“Agree to disagree.” 

He grazed his teeth over my skin and hummed. The sensation was overwhelming and I fell backwards, closing my eyes as he grabbed my ass and pulled me even closer. Relief washed over me as he buried his face between my legs but it was short lived, quickly followed by arousal strong enough to make my mouth water. Anticipation had me on pins and needles. 

I lifted my hips and he set an arm across them to hold me in place, flicking his tongue back and forth over my clit. He reached up to palm my breast with a groan. I knotted my fingers in his hair and he pinched my nipple hard, smiling against my heat. I frowned as he leaned up to kiss me, leaving me wet and wanting. 

“You don’t play nice.” 

“I thought you liked that.” He slipped two fingers deep in my cunt as his mouth met mine. I swallowed my protest and dug my nails into his biceps, melting as he pressed his thumb to the hot bundle of nerves he’d abandoned. I hooked a leg around his waist to hold him close, desperate to feel more of his skin on mine. He was hard under his sweat pants and I reached down to feel him, stopping when he sat back. 

“What the hell?” He licked his fingers clean and shrugged, nodding back to the mess he’d left on the floor. “Are you serious?” 

I shot up and watched him return to building the bookshelf, a smirk on his face when he looked at me. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I was aching for release and he shrugged again, taking a long sip of his coffee as I shifted impatiently. “That’s not fair.” 

“What’s the hurry Chlo? We have all day.” 

#foreshadowing and shit #dougie hamilton fic #dougie hamilton imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #skip over it #skip over it fic

[imaginingsoftly]

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time Pt. 10 - Morgan Rielly

Type: roommates to lovers, Y/N insert shorts

Requested: No

Warnings: arguing, minor meltdown, swearing, angst

(Y/N = Your name, time jumps marked with a line)

A/N: Fair warning, this gets angsty for a hot second. Also, there’s a little bit of Greek in here, but nothing that you’ll need to translate. It’s a couple of food things, a phrase, and some names, all of which are explained in-text. I have some Greek in my family, so thankfully I was able to draw off of personal experience for this.

Another win, another party. The boys were on a win streak, and had decided to celebrate every win like it could be their last. Kat and Andrei were drunkenly dancing on each other, and Y/N smiled at the way Andrei stared down at Kat. They really did make for a cute couple. Dougie was dancing next to them, some random brunette shimmying awkwardly in front of him. Morgan was standing at the bar joking with Tom, the bartender. Tom was probably talking about the game, she knew he watched all of them in between pouring drinks. “So is everything still good with you and Mo, Y/N?” She looked back at the boys sitting across from her, and smiled. 

“Never better. It just works, you know?” Marty and Brock rolled their eyes, and Marty reached out to punch Y/N’s shoulder. “Stop being so corny and tell us if he does anything embarrassing,” Brock yelled over the music, “You’re our inside source for all things Mo, Y/N, so talk!” Y/N laughed, and Morgan grinned as he slid in next to her, sliding a beer over to both of the boys sitting across from him. “Go away, Mo, we were interrogating Y/N.” Marty saluted Y/N with his bottle as he spoke, and she lifted hers back at him. 

Morgan slid an arm around her shoulders. “He snores,” Y/N said quickly, “and he’s a shit cook. I taught him how to flip a pancake.” Marty snorted as Morgan leaned back to look at her, betrayed, but Brock’s face made everyone laugh seconds later. “You don’t know how to flip a pancake either, Ginner, do you?” Brock’s ears turned red at her teasing, and Y/N and Marty high-fived. 

The four settled into an easy conversation, most of it surrounding the various basic living skills the boys had never bothered to learn, and somehow Y/N found herself promising to teach Ginner and Marty some of her cooking secrets. The drinks flowed as much as the conversation, and Y/N found herself leaning more and more heavily into Morgan as the night wore on. She was blessed with a naturally high alcohol tolerance, but she still didn’t drink often and the guys had a foot and hundred pounds on her. Andrei and Kat finally made their way over to everyone, and Kat pulled Y/N away for a “bathroom visit.” 

“So, Y/N spill!” Kat reapplied her lipstick in the semi-darkness of the bar’s bathroom while Y/N leaned on the edge of the sink. Actually, leaning on the sink was probably a bad idea. God knows what had been in it. “It’s been almost two months and you’ve given me nothing about your dating life.” Not that it was Y/N’s fault they hadn’t gotten together. Kat was the busy one, and Andrei took up almost all of her free time. 

Now Y/N would ever say that out loud, but still. “It’s good. I mean honestly not that much has changed, except we swap spit sometimes.” Kat snorted out a laugh and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “and other bodily fluids.” Which, really, she wasn’t wrong. About half of the apartment had been christened thanks to Morgan’s sex drive, and Y/N found herself in much better shape than she had been before they started dating. “He’s been good for me, Kat. And for my anxiety. I’ve been falling asleep a lot easier, and I haven’t felt like chest pains were killing me in almost a month.” That was probably the most remarkable part of the entire thing; the anxiety and insomnia had been a normal part of Y/N’s life since she was in college, and suddenly a stable relationship and someone to really talk to was lessening her episodes. It had happened before, in the one other real relationship she’d had, but not to this extent. 

Kat put her lipstick away, finally satisfied that it looked okay. “I’m happy for you, Y/N,” she said, touching Y/N’s hand. “He’s a good guy. You deserve someone like him.” The two smiled at each other, and Kat slung an arm over her friend’s shoulders. “Let’s go give those boys hell before they have to go back to taking life seriously, yeah?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The week leading up to the playoffs was a lot. Morgan was filled with a sort of manic energy that was hard to be around sometimes, and Y/N could tell it was because of years of first-round disappointments. He was readying himself to be disappointed again. She kept him busy as much as possible, coming up with reasons to send him to the store or to clean things around the house, but even that was becoming a little tiresome. There was only so many times he could run the vacuum cleaner through the apartment before Mrs. Dagny downstairs complained. 

They were eating dinner together three days before game one when Morgan stood suddenly. “I have something for you,” he announced, and Y/N was left to sit confusedly at the eating bar. He returned from his room holding something behind his back. “So I know you know about all the traditions in hockey, down to the smallest ones, and this year you’re a piece of one that means a lot to NHL families.” Morgan pulled a jacket from behind his back, and Y/N dropped her fork in surprise. WAG jackets were a big deal, and she hadn’t planned on getting one unless Morgan or one of the girls brought it up. No one had, and she’d just brushed it off. The jacket was beautiful, black and slightly worn, like someone had roughed it up a little bit to soften the denim. The alternate logo sat front and center, the hurricane warning flags spanning most of the back. Morgan’s number spread across the shoulders, and his name sat on the popped collar. She laughed at the Red Sox logo on one shoulder, and smiled softly at the Canadian leaf sitting on the other. Their two homes, combined. The only question was how he had arranged all of this.

Y/N met Morgan’s eyes to silently ask, and he grinned. “I asked Kat to set it up for you. I figured it’d be a fun surprise.” He held it out to her. “Try it on.” She stood hurriedly, and Morgan helped her slide the jacket over her shoulders. It fit perfectly, and Y/N silently thanked Kat for accommodating the wideness of her shoulders. “Perfect,” Morgan said, spinning her around. “My number looks good on you, sweetheart.” Y/N laughed. “Thank you,” she whispered. Morgan pulled Y/N into a hug and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks for sticking with me this whole season, Red Sox. I know it must’ve been hard sometimes.” 

“Only sometimes,” she joked. They settled back into dinner, though Y/N left the jacket on. Everything felt too surreal to take it off. “So are you ready for game one? Boston was looking scary as the season ended.” It was like Morgan could never escape the Bruins; they had been the top team in the East for yet another year, and the Hurricanes were meeting them as the wildcard. Y/N could see the strain that was setting in, and the pressure Morgan was surely putting on himself. 

Morgan sighed, looking at the wall in front of him. “In a way, I’m glad it’s Boston. It might be nice to exorcise those demons, you know?” Y/N nodded. “At the same time, it’s like really? Boston again?” He rubbed his face tiredly, and Y/N reached over to grab his plate. “C’mon,” she said, “we’re going to get a couple of small bowls of ice cream and watch some baseball. I’ll even turn on the Blue Jays game for you.” Morgan nodded. Y/N headed into the kitchen to take care of their bowls, and he dragged his feet over to the couch. Y/N stopped to watch him as he walked, noticing the exhaustion behind his steps. The last couple of weeks of the season had been tough on him, and it was showing. Their win streak in early March had been the only thing keeping them in the playoffs, and they’d exited the regular season barely limping into the wildcard. Losing Tuevo at the end of that win streak had shown exactly how flawed their forwards were. If there was any consolation, Boston was the same way. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To say the season ended badly would be an understatement. Game seven, and they didn’t have a chance from the start. Boston came out swinging, literally, scoring two goals and inciting a near-brawl in the first ten minutes of the game. The boys recovered, briefly, when Kase was ejected from the game for a bad hit on Sebastian, but Boston came back with a vengeance in the second. A final score of 7-3, and the boys were done and Boston was headed to Toronto. Morgan was red in the face when he came out of the locker room, having shouldered most of the blame for the way the back end played. The press was hard on him, especially since Toronto was moving on to the second round in the first year since he’d been traded, and Y/N could tell their questions had gotten to him. 

He stormed past her in the hallway, and Y/N had trouble meeting Ky’s sympathetic face with a smile and a nod. “I’ll see you soon.” She handed Emmy back to Jaccob, and took off after Morgan. “Morgan,” she called, hurrying towards the parking lot, “Mo, hang on!” He didn’t even slow down, and she was almost surprised he waited for her to climb into the passenger's seat before he sped out of the lot. His face was harder than stone, and she watched his jaw muscles ripple as he ground his teeth. Morgan was driving faster than usual, slamming on the brakes a little harder than necessary. Y/N didn’t know what to say, so she sat in silence. He was never like this. A frown sure, being a little too hard on himself definitely, but never this angry. She only spoke when they turned onto the street their apartment was on. “I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but I’m proud of you. It wasn’t the outcome I know you wanted, but you were good. The bounces didn’t go your way tonight.” 

Morgan choked out a laugh as he pulled into the parking space next to her Jeep. “I sucked, Y/N. Don’t try to make excuses for me. It’s never good enough.” He barely put the car in park before he was jumping out, slamming the driver’s side door in the process. Y/N jumped out as well, knowing he would leave her behind if she didn’t. Morgan wasn’t waiting for her tonight, and his height advantage was all-too evident as he took off up the stairs faster than she could keep up. She knew he was exhausted, so this was anger fueling him. 

Y/N caught up with him at the door to the apartment, where he was angrily shoving his keys into the lock. It wasn’t turning, and he punched the door in frustration. This was a side of him she didn’t even know existed. “Morgan, stop!” She shoved past him, grabbing the keys out of his hand. “I’ve got it. Just stop, please.” Y/N barely made it out of the way before Morgan was barreling inside the apartment, and she hurriedly followed behind him, stopping when they were in the living room. “Morgan.” She said his name quietly, but he paused. “I understand your anger, and I think it’s justified. Just please,” she begged, “don’t take it out on me. I love you, Mo, and I wanted to see you succeed.” A few tears she hadn’t realized were building up dropped down her cheeks. “I’m sorry that you didn’t get the series win tonight, and I’m sorry it was Boston again. I wish it had gone differently this time.” She wiped the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand, and Morgan’s face hardened as he looked at her.

“Stop pretending to be upset!” Morgan was red in the face, and Y/N could barely recognize the person she loved behind the anger. “You don’t know how this feels, and you don’t even care about the team!” He threw his arms out wildly, and she saw Bogey run for her bedroom when Morgan’s hand came dangerously close to his perch on the couch. “You’re a Boston fan, for fucks sake! Go out and celebrate, just stop fucking pretending you give a shit about if we win or not!” Morgan’s chest was heaving with how heavily he was breathing, and Y/N was frozen from where she stood by the window. He really thought she didn’t care about him? Didn’t care if the team won or lost?

Y/N felt another tear slip down her cheek, though she wiped it away as quickly as it fell. Morgan’s face shifted slightly, like he was just realizing what he’d said. Y/N ducked her head before any more tears fell. “Y/N, I,” she shook her head, pushing past Morgan and towards the door again. “Y/N! Red Sox, come on, I didn’t mean it.” Sure he didn’t. 

“Angry words are usually pretty truthful, Morgan, so I think you did.” His face was helpless as he reached out to her, and Y/N put her hand on the doorknob. “I need to cool off for a while. I think you do too.” She left before Morgan could respond, and especially before he could convince her to come back. 

She was halfway down the stairwell before footsteps sounded above her. How in the hell could he possibly think she was happy he’d lost? She knew those boys; they mattered to her now, it wasn’t like they were some faceless team. She cared about him, for fucks sake. Morgan caught up with her as she reached the street. He breathlessly called for her to stop, and Y/N’s feet slowed for a step before she steeled herself and kept walking. “I need to cool off Morgan, I’ll be back.” His footsteps continued behind her, and his hand caught her arm under the elbow. 

“Y/N please. I shouldn’t have said that.” She finally slowed, turning to face Morgan. His eyes scanned her face desperately. “I know you care. I know you wanted us to win.” She wasn’t ready to forgive him yet, and the eyebrow she cocked told him enough. Morgan let go of her arm to rub his face, and she could see exactly how exhausted he was. “Go, Morgan,” she said a little more gently. “I’ll be back. I promise.” Y/N reached out to squeeze his arm reassuringly before beginning to walk again. Morgan paused for a second and then followed.

He walked silently alongside Y/N until they were past the apartment complex. “I just want to know that you’re okay. I know you take these walks when I’m not around, but I’d prefer you not walk the city alone this late.” Y/N could feel him staring at her as she looked forward, and it took everything she had not to meet his eyes. “I won’t talk if that’s what you want, and I’ll even walk separate from you if necessary, but I just want to make sure you stay safe.” Well damn. When he put it that way she couldn’t refuse. She nodded shortly, and Morgan let out a breath that she hadn’t noticed he was holding. 

They walked in silence through the city, and Y/N finally felt herself cool off. Morgan had a temper, she knew that, though she didn’t know it went that deeply. It didn’t excuse what he’d said, not by a long shot, but his apology was sincere. They finally reached the spot she was seeking out, a small nighttime Greek restaurant ten blocks from their building, and Y/N felt Morgan look at her questioningly as she stepped through the door. The smell of oregano and garlic hit Y/N almost as quickly as the sound of the traditional music, and she shouted out a greeting as she pulled Morgan along with her. “Ti kanete, yiayia!” The older woman behind the counter looked up as Y/N spoke, and she began to hurry out from behind the counter when she recognized her. “Ah, koúkla,” she called out excitedly, “you finally came for another visit?” Y/N melted into the older woman’s hug. Her hug was more comforting than even Morgan’s, the kind of hug only a grandmother-type could give. 

Y/N pulled back, and the older woman drew her hands back to Y/N’s shoulders. “You too skinny, koúkla, too skinny.” She let go of Y/N’s shoulders to pat her cheeks gently, and Y/N gavet the first smile she’d had since the game started. “Eat. I’ll bring keftedes and loukoumades.” Y/N nodded, and looked back at Morgan as the woman hurried away, shouting at her husband to get the food going. He was standing there slightly shell-shocked, and the last of Y/N’s immediate anger dissipated with the look on his face. She took pity on him, grabbing his hand to pull him towards a table. Morgan reacted instantly, adjusting his hand to hold hers properly. As they sat, Y/N took a moment to drink in the atmosphere.

It felt homey, and smelled familiar. She had grown up on Greek foods, her mother half Greek, and the Greek thrown between Erriéta and Matthaíos was as familiar as Saturday breakfasts at her grandparent’s house. Even the furniture was familiar, plastic on the brown booth chairs and all. Morgan was still looking around confusedly, and Y/N took pity on him. “They’re Greek. Harriet and Matthew are insomniacs, like me, so they opened this place when they immigrated here. It’s the only restaurant not attached to a bar or fast food that you can find after 1am.” She smiled over at the kitchen, where Matthaíos was throwing dough balls into the air and catching them as Erriéta scolded him. “In Greek, their names are Erriéta and Matthaíos, but they mostly go by the English translations now. It’s a little easier.” Morgan smiled gently at her, and she continued before she let him suck her back in too quickly. “I came in here one night after a particularly bad day last year. I called out a hello in Greek, though it was the wrong one.” Y/N laughed at the memory. “‘Ti kanete’ is the informal way to say hello, not what you say to strangers.” 

“Harriet kind of adopted me after that. It’s why I call her yiayia. It’s the Greek word for grandmother. She has a habit of adopting strays.” Erriéta appeared then as if she had been called, sliding large plates of keftedes and loukoumades between Y/N and Morgan. “Eat,” she said emphatically, “too skinny. You too, boy,” she directed at Morgan, “you too skinny too.” Morgan stared up at the woman mildly alarmed, and Y/N smothered a chuckle. “Thank you, yiayia,” she said sincerely. Erriéta patted her hand gently and swept off again, yelling at Matthaíos in their native language again. 

Morgan looked mildly shell-shocked, even as Y/N pulled a plate from the stack at the end of the table and piled it high with food. “The food is good,” Y/N told him. “Eat.” Morgan still looked at the food skeptically, and she rolled her eyes. “It’s turkey meatballs and doughnuts in a nutty syrup. I promise it’s all delicious.” She dug into her own plate as she spoke, shoving an entire doughnut in her mouth. It had been a while since the last time she’d eaten the loukoumades, and it took every bit of self control Y/N had not to take the entire plate just for herself. She smiled when Morgan took a bite of meatball, immediately making a face of surprise and shoving the entire thing in his mouth. “Good, yeah?” Morgan nodded emphatically, and Y/N laughed at the way his cheeks bulged. 

They ate together in semi-silence, only talking for more napkins or to argue over who would pay the bill when Erriéta brought it by. They did meet gazes every so often, and Morgan’s gentle but exhausted smile melted the last of her anger away. “I love you too.” Morgan’s words startled Y/N out of thoughts of more loukoumades, and she cocked her head in confusion. “You said it earlier,” he clarified, “and I yelled at you. You didn’t deserve to have my frustration taken out of you.” Morgan sighed, leaning back in his chair. “They wouldn’t stop asking me about Toronto. I can’t help but feel like I was the reason they kept losing all those years, and it sucks.” Oh. Oh. 

“Morgan, no. It’s not your fault. They finally went out and got those pieces you guys needed to succeed all those other years. You can’t blame yourself for the front office screwing up.” Y/N reached out and gripped one of Morgan’s hands. “A few overpaid forwards and two good defensemen aren’t going to win you a cup. If the front office had smartened up when you were there, maybe you guys would have made it further. But sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” 

Morgan nodded slowly, and Y/N could actually see him realize she was right. He squeezed her hand back, leaning forward again with a sigh. “What would I do without you?” Y/N smiled and shook her head in response. “Let’s go home.” Morgan stood as he spoke, pulling Y/N with him. Erriéta and Matthaíos came over to hug Y/N, and then Erriéta even hugged Morgan. 

“Take care of her, boy, yes?” Morgan nodded solemnly at Erriéta’s request, and Y/N hugged the older woman again. She pressed a box of what Y/N could only assume was more loukoumades into her hands, and winked. “For later. You too skinny.” Y/N laughed and nodded. 

The walk back to their apartment was much more lighthearted than when they’d left, and Morgan tucked Y/N into his side with a sigh. “Can we cuddle when we get back?” Y/N took a breath to respond, but Morgan hurriedly spoke again. “I understand if you’re still mad, but I wanted you to know that the option is there.” Y/N let out a breathy laugh, though she didn’t respond immediately. Was she still mad at him? She had been hurt at the time, and maybe still was, but honestly it didn’t seem like Morgan meant what he said. It was more like he’d wanted someone else to be as upset as he was. They both needed a hug and a good night's sleep.

“Yeah, Morgan, I think we both need that tonight.” Morgan squeezed Y/N’s shoulder as they came upon their building, and he held onto her as they climbed all seven flights of stairs. Bogey was sleeping on the couch again as they entered the apartment, and Morgan scooped him up gently. Bogey protested with a tiny meow, and Y/N pressed a kiss to the cat’s head. “He doesn’t like it when you pick him up while he's trying to sleep, you know.” 

Morgan followed Y/N into her bedroom, depositing Bogey on the gray comforter. “I just wanted to cuddle with both of you. Plus, he loves my hugs.” Y/N let out a laugh, and she was still laughing as they settled into the bed. Morgan pulled her close, sliding an arm under her head and another across her lower ribcage. “I love you, Y/N. And I am so grateful that you let me hold you every night.” Y/N settled deeper into his chest, and Morgan pressed a kiss to her neck. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

#nhl imagines #nhl imagine #morgan rielly imagine #good idea ML

[leafsbabe]

how Dougie Hamilton is like in bed

what Dougie Hamilton is like in bed:

- he’s a total softie but i can also see him being a little kinkster 

- probably big into pda 

- has his hands all over you but he also knows when to keep them to himself 

- marks you up just a little bit but doesn’t mind it if you leave a ton scratch marks all over his back

- lowkey likes that the guys in the locker room know what he does for you and that you belong to him

- will go down and stay there for a while

- buys you all the lingerie and toys you want 

- i feel like he’s old fashioned enough to physically write out a sex bucket list

- which leads to some rookie finding it when you’re hosting a get together

- he’s scared to death after seeing what’s on it and what’s already been crossed off and he won’t look at you or Dougie again for a looong time

- he’s in the mood for soft sex a lot

- just dimmed lights, under the blanket, missionary action and it’s GREAT

- but then when he’s feeling more bold he fucks you in a rink closet after a game close enough to the action that interview cameras might pick up your moans if you’re not careful enough 

- he’s really great at taking care of you after though

- the type of guy that goes for round two in the morning

his dick:

- big but manageable

the experience:

9/10

#hib series #dougie hamilton #hockey imagines #Hockey Players #hockey smut

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

Sure Feels Right Ch. 4

Taglist: @hllywdwhre, @xxkellsvixen19xx

Warnings: Soft smut 👀

2019

It had been a few days since the ‘cuddle puddle’ incident and everything was still very much the same, and yet things were different between Lux and them. Colson would look at her with softer eyes and would sometimes just reach out and touch her lightly while he was talking or doing things and then would retract his hand and go about his business. Rook would lean on her or want his hair played with if they were sitting next to each other and he wanted to spend more time with her, which she thought was impossible considering they were on a tour bus together, but here she sat watching him and Slim battle each other in the newest mortal kombat.

“Rook can I puh-lease borrow Lux now?” Casie pleaded from the entry to the back of the bus. She had joined them last night for a few shows and Lux was grateful because it meant the boys were on their best behavior. “She promised to paint my nails and we all know she truly doesn’t care about watching you guys play this game.”

Lux chuckled at the put out expression on Rook’s face and pat him on the knee. “Here I come Casie.” she said getting off the couch slightly appreciative of Casie intervening. Casie grabbed the small container with different polish in it from Lux’s bunk as they made their way to the small table.

“Okay what color would you like? I have red, dark blue, black, yellow, purple, and green with glitter in it.” Lux presented the different bottles of polish as she named the colors.

“Ooh yellow! Then I can wear the dress I have with the sunflowers on it to the show tonight” Casie bounced with excitement in her seat. In so many ways she was exactly like Colson.

“So are you excited to be out of school for the summer?” Lux asked getting started on the young girl’s nails.

“School isn’t terrible, but I like being able to go on tour with Dad. The tour bus is fun.” Casie smiled and looked at her yellow fingers before blowing on them gently while Lux started on the second hand. “Yellow was a great choice.”

“Well if it isn’t two of my favorite ladies” Colson spoke through a yawn before leaning down to kiss Casie on the top of her head. He walked over and repeated the action to the top of Lux’s head and went to go make coffee as if it were nothing. Lux had briefly stopped her actions and could feel her ears growing red. He had never done that before.

“Dad look Lux is painting my nails to match the dress Aunt Ash bought for me!” Casie seemed to be ignoring the blatant display of affection Colson had bestowed upon Lux. She was beaming with so much happiness Colson felt his heart clench at the sight before him. Lux was so good to his little girl.

“Yeah Lux is almost as cool as your dad” He smirked sipping his coffee.

“Well you should let her paint your nails then too Dad. That would be very cool of you” Casie had Colson’s smirk as if it had been copied and pasted onto her face.

“Is that supposed to be a challenge Casie? I’ve let you paint my nails.” He squeezed in next to her and they both stuck their tongues out at each other. They were so alike in many ways.

“Blow and don’t touch anything until the top coat dries” Lux instructed and grabbed the polish she knew he would want for his nails, black. She was gonna use the yellow for his middle finger so he matched Casie but Casie stopped her.

“Wait!” She carefully pushed the purple towards Lux “For the middle finger since most of the show is black and purple themed for the album colors” Casie was probably a genius. Lux finished both of their nails and applied a clear coat to top it off for the both of them when Rook and Slim came out of the back and Casie instructed that they also needed their nails done to match. So Rook ended up with black nails and Slim ended up with dark blue nails and neither were too excited about that, but nobody was about to tell Casie no. The good part about Lux having to paint everybody’s nails was that the time went by much quicker and it wasn’t long until they were setting up for the show.

The show went without a hitch and Colson pulled Casie on stage for a few songs and she tried to pull Lux, but she was too fast and got away. She preferred the side stage anyway. 

“The show was so kick ass!” Lux yelled practically pouncing on Rook the moment he made his way to her. He picked her up in a hug and spun them both around before he placed her on her feet again. The post show adrenaline could be felt through all of them which meant the boys would probably rough house later if Casie didn’t scold them. Colson tossed Lux over his shoulder and made his way towards the bus before she could comment more on the show.

“Colson! I’m wearing a skirt!” Lux tried to wiggle her skirt back down some, but it was no use, she could feel the breeze.

“Stop wiggling or you’ll make the skirt ride up more.” Colson replied matter of factly and placed his other hand over her butt to block the view. Lux felt her face heat up and was glad Colson couldn’t see her redness from his position. Rook was following behind them with Casie on his back pointing and laughing at Lux. This was embarrassing.

In all honesty, Colson didn’t NEED to block Lux’s ass, there was nobody in front of them that would be able to see anything. He told himself he was doing it to ease her mind, but really he just wanted to be able to touch more of her. Seeing her with Casie was increasing his want to touch her and be touched by her and so, he was covering her ass. Lord help him.

2018

Lux came up for air panting wildly, lipstick smudged, cheeks flushed, and a grin that could split her face in half. The girl in front of her was a mirror for how she looked minus the giant grin. Fuck she loved New Orleans. When Ash said they got to visit Colson while he was filming the Motley Crue movie she hadn’t expected to get to party like this, she should have known better with Colson involved. Colson was playing Tommy Lee (who Lux also got to meet with Nikki Sixx on set and she almost died) and she was positive everyone knew they couldn’t have found a better person to play Tommy. He had dragged her, Rook, Douglas, and Daniel to a strip club, well dragged wasn’t the right word because all of them wanted to go; but he had the idea first. That was how Lux had found herself in the private booth making out with one of the strippers while the boys watched.

“Holy shit” Douglas was the first to break the silence. He was cute with his hair a bit messy from his wig and his eyeliner still on from today’s shoot. It gave Lux butterflies.

“See didn’t I tell you she was amazing?” Colson beamed her way. He was always proud when she did what he had dubbed  “Colson like behavior”.

“I think she’s damn near wife material.” Daniel cooed putting a hand on her shoulder. Colson had told Lux that the director wanted the boys to really get into their roles and Daniel seemed to be practicing his Vince Neil charm on many of the ladies tonight. He and Colson were even wearing matching shirts that were open to show their (incredible) abs. Her mouth was getting dry thinking about it too much so she grabbed the shot Daniel had in his hand and took it with a wink.

“No offence Colson, but I think want to hang out with Lux now. She may be the coolest person here.” Douglas laughed.

“Dougie, I would eat you alive.” Lux smirked at him over her shoulder. If she played her cards right she would get to mark fucking a british guy off of her fuck-it list (bucket list). Perhaps Douglas was feeling bolder from playing Nikki Sixx and he was leaning into his role, or maybe it was all the shots they had done, but something had him wanting to act more impulsively around Lux.

He leaned down inches from her face and whispered “I think if anyone is eating somebody tonight I’d rather it be me to you.”

Lux almost had to clench her legs shut and kept looking between his eyes and his lips before he curled his mouth into what was becoming a signature smirk for him. He leaned away and sipped his drink still smirking while Lux tried to collect her thoughts. She was damn near ready to grab Douglas’ hand and physically drag him to her hotel room. Colson kept flashing his eyes between the two in confusion looking a little miffed, so Lux decided to help improve his night. She excused herself to go to the bathroom and found one of the dancers whom Colson had been making eyes at all night.

“Can you go give a private dance to my friend there in the private booth?” Lux gestured with her head “You can’t miss him he’s the pretty blonde with all the tattoos” She slipped the girl some money after she nodded having seen who Lux was referencing. Lux watched as the dancer approached Colson and pulled him into a different private room for his dance mentally high fiving herself when she saw his excited expression. Now to get Douglas and get him out of here.

Colson had to hand it to Lux, she really fucking knew his type. The dance had been beautiful torture, but he worked enough charm and magic and knew she’d come to his room tonight. She said her shift was about done and she’d meet him near the bathrooms so they could head out the back door. He was gonna look for Lux to tell her thank you when he noticed her and Douglas were gone. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. She was so like him sometimes.

Colson groaned as the girl bobbed her mouth up and down his length. He would have to thank Lux later. He needed to stop thinking about Lux right now. He tangled his hand in the dark hair of the girl on her knees before him and squeezed his eyes shut. She moaned around him in her mouth and he practically died on the spot. If she kept this up he wouldn’t last long. She pushed as much of him as she could fit and worked the rest with her hand. He threw his head back and panted unable to stop a small moan that bubbled in his chest. Fuck he loved New Orleans.

Lux was wincing from the knob of the cabinet being pressed into her back, but she refused to stop Douglas from what he was doing with his fingers. A broken moan escaped her lips before his crashed down onto hers. The kiss was hungry and needy matching everything Lux felt as she bucked her hips up to meet the pace of his fingers. She briefly heard a loud moan in the next room over and almost regret her decision to go back to Doug’s room instead, but her thought on the matter was cut short by Douglas lifting her off the counter and carrying her to the bed. She needed to shut out the thoughts of Colson, even if hearing his headboard hit the wall was a bit painful on her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the man removing her shirt to kiss down her body. He kissed her hard again and they scrambled to remove the remaining bits of their clothing. Douglas fixed her with a smug grin and lightly pushed her to down to lay against the mattress as he made his way down her body again. He was stopping to bite and suck on parts of her body and she knew she would resemble a leopard tomorrow. Douglas positioned himself between her legs and nipped at her inner thighs looking up into her eyes.

“Now I believe we discussed the finer points of eating earlier, right?” Douglas smirked and before Lux could respond he had his face between her legs. Her hand found her way into his hair as breathless moans filled the air. Fuck she loved New Orleans.

#machine gun kelly #mgk #machince gun kelly fanfic #mgk fanfic #colson baker #rook fanfic #mgk x oc x rook #rookxx #sure feels right

[tkmuses]

“I tried to change the duvet and I got stuck inside.”

   He tried to hide the snort of amusement, he REALLY did, but it was just such a sight to see. This wasn’t the first odd situation he’d seen the girl in, and he didn’t expect it to be the last, but it was certainly one of the most interesting. This was something she managed to do often. She was a clumsy girl, both as a human and a wolf– he wasn’t quite sure HOW he survived up until this point, but he couldn’t deny it was at least a tiny bit cute.    “Let me help.”

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

   He couldn’t help but smile, a smile he wasn’t quite used to. It’d been a while since he was this genuinely happy, but Malia sparked something new inside of him– something good. He hadn’t spent much time outside since his change, but his girlfriend wasn’t one for the indoors. (( She caused a bit of a mess when she was )).    With slight hesitation, and hope that it was alright, he threw the snowball, a small shrug following after. “It’s just snow.”

“It’s not a double date, we’re just third and forth wheeling.”

    Leaning against the wall of the cabin, he crossed his arms over his chest. He’d promised to hear her out– He could offer that at least. He always did, for HER. Few people got such sentiment. Generally, their ideas weren’t worth his time. But, this didn’t fall under the category of ideas that he particularly cared to go along with. Foxx was essentially Malia on steriods– with a much more irritable personality. The idea of tagging along on a date with some human she’d snagged didn’t sound like much fun.     “Idea–How about we don’t do that?”

“I can’t keep hurting you.“

It was cold and dark and the downpour was freezing, the two of them were huddled together to keep warm. They’d been on the run for a short while now, a couple of other DA kids with them. The forrest was not as welcoming a home as the Hogwarts dormitories were, although as of late that was arguable. Her hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling his face towards hers and pressing a kiss to his lips. It was rough, and her chapped lips added no amount of tenderness to it. All of their kisses had been such lately. She had no time for soft love. The both of them could die at any moment, and her desperation to be close with him showed every time they had a slight moment of intimacy. Pulling away, she pressed her forehead to his, eyes squeezed shut tightly. “It isn’t you, and it never has been. You’re the only good thing I have right now. The people we’re fighting? They aren’t you, Doug. You aren’t them. So, stop. Just stop. Please,” She whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips, his cheeks, before pulling away and pushing herself up off the log they were seated on. Placing her hand on his shoulder and allowing it to linger for a moment she spoke once more, “You’re a good fucking person, Doug. You haven’t hurt me yet.” A lie. A blatant lie, but it needed to be said. She needed to convince him otherwise.

"I trusted you.“

They were arguing again. That was all they did anymore. Fight until their throats were sore and they were hurting more than they already had been. “Oh piss off! Yeah, I fucking lied to you about what they’ve been doing to me. I’ve been lyin’ to you about the Carrows too. You know why? You want to know why I’ve been lyin’ to you? It’s ‘cause I love you, you flaming sack of–” She paused a moment, heart racing so fast she could hear it in her ears. She tugged her sleeve down, covering the evidence of any time she’d spent with the professors that now roamed the halls of Hogwarts. “Doug, I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much, and you’ve gotta know I’ve only ever lied because It was for your own good. If you knew…You’da gone after them and I don’t want you getting hurt for me anymore. It fucking kills me, okay? So I’ve got to bear a few marks because of ‘em. That’s nothing compared to the hell that is knowing you’ve gone through any bit of pain because of me.” She shook her head, bringing her hands up to run them through her hair. “Fuck this is all my fault.”

"I still love you.“

His words struck her as hard as if he’d slapped her across the cheek. Near immediately she began to shake her head, a nasty look settling in on her normally kind face. “Fuck you, Doug,” the girl hissed through gritted teeth, “You got no right to say that to me. You think you can just say that shit to me and It’ll fix it? No fuckin’ way.” She shook her head once more, looking down at the ground, focusing her attention on her shoes so as to refrain from doing something she’d regret. He might’ve been a real fancy pureblood– But she wasn’t. She didn’t need spells and magic to make him hurt. Her hands tightened into fists, knuckles turning white. Her gaze snapped it’s attention back to his, spitting out her words with venom “Did you really fucking think I wouldn’t find out? That I wouldn’t figure out why you left? Y’know Douglas, when we got together, you made me feel things I didn’t know I could. You made me feel like a real special lady, but I’m not, am I? I’m just some dirty blooded bitch fucking with your reputation– But I’m better than you’ll ever fuckin’ be. You know why, Dougie? Because I know where my loyalties lie. Can you even say that? You wanna play pretend? Fuck with someone else’s life while you’re doing it, yeah?” Taking a few steps backwards, she kept her cold glare steady on him, a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders added while she turned her back to him.

"I don’t want to see you ever again.“

She could feel her heart collapse, and her chest caving in, his words being heard over and over in her mind. Her knees were weak as she took a step forward, her fingers outstretched towards him in a desperate hope he’d reach back. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes and she wasn’t sure she could stop them from falling this time. As brave as she was, her heart couldn’t handle this. “D-dougie, please. Please, you don’t mean this,” her voice was barely above a whisper, wavering uncontrollably as she struggled to keep herself composed. “Whatever it is i’ve done, please just tell me what. I-I’ll fix it. Please, just don’t do this.” Her voice was broken as she begged him, his words an absolute shock to her. She searched every memory she had for something she could’ve done to make him so angry, but she couldn’t think of anything. The tears finally began to spill over, soaking her cheeks in no time at all. Perhaps it was all of it, everything she’d done. Every little mistake. Perhaps it was just her. Perhaps it was just her blood.

"How many time have I told you to be more careful?“

She grinned, barely able to see as she struggled to hold onto her boyfriend for support. With one hand wrapped around his shoulders, and another clutching her side she found herself struggling to limp through the hallway and towards the hospital wing– Even with his help. “What can I say? I’m your girl. Someone needs to defend your honor, yeah?” She nodded, giving him another bloody grin. Through her attempt to laugh, she found herself coughing up a bit of blood rather than managing to do what she actually wanted to. But, it didn’t seem like she was having any luck with that at all. She’d meant to counter the spell, to block it from hitting Doug, but something had gone wrong and it’d rebounded. Gripping his shoulder tightly, she gave a nod, letting him know she needed to stop for a moment. With his help, she took a seat on the rubble that had once been a hall in Hogwarts. With a shaking hand, she reached out to cup the cheek of her boyfriend who was now crouched in front of her. “I need a moment, yeah. We’ve just won the bloody war. I deserve that much. Just… I’ll be fine.” She leaned her head back against the stone for support, closing her eyes as she winced. It’d be a fuck of a lot easier to get to the hospital wing if she could manage to stop the bleeding, but it wouldn’t.

"You make me sick.“

Her hand was still held loosely over her mouth, fighting the urge to vomit. He’d told her to stay put, that he’d be back when he’d gotten the information he needed, but he’d been taking so long she thought something might’ve happened. Doug had many flaws, and plenty of them were rather grim, but she’d managed to accept that. She loved him for all that he was, not just the good that was on the surface, and not just the good she knew was buried down. The war had been bringing out the worst in him, the worst in both of them really, but never had she expected this. She wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t, her eyes fixated on the gory display in front of her. The methods of torture in the Wizarding world were foul, but they were simple enough. They didn’t require you to get your hands dirty a majority of the time. Muggle torture, however, was sick beyond belief. The barbaric methods that existed were enough to make you sick, even at the tamest ones. “Muggle torture, Doug? I never expected—You make me sick,” She muttered before turning on her heels and hurrying out of the door frame.

"I can’t stand to look at you.”

She wiped her nose on her sleeve before getting rid of any tears that had previously stained her face. She hadn’t meant to say it, she hadn’t meant to say any of it. She’d only said it because she was angry. She should just swallow her pride, admit she’d been wrong and apologies, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was still furious with him, and although she wanted to ignore the awful things they’d said an done up until this point, something inside of her just wouldn’t let that happen. Holding her head high, she wiped the remaining tears off of her face. “I’ve done some shit things, and i’ll admit it. But you have too, and you can’t pretend that I’m the only one in the wrong here.”

☯: our muses have their first kiss Stretching her arms above her head, the fifth year made her way into the dining hall. She’d only just awoken, and never having been much of a morning person, she was dreadfully tired. Rather than heading to the Gryffindor table, she made a beeline towards that of the Ravenclaw students. Trudging over towards her boyfriend, she let out a rather loud yawn, scrunching up her nose as she tried to wake herself up. Spotting the familiar head of brown hair, she brushed some loose strands of frizz out of her face. Once she’d made it over she flipped a majority of her hair over one shoulder, giving him a quick peck on the lips before sitting down beside him. “Morning babe.” She nodded quietly before pausing. Her brows furrowed and she opened her mouth to speak before snapping it shut. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she looked over his face,  studying his features for any signs of what he was thinking. She opened her mouth once more, a small noise escaping her lips before leaning in. Cupping both of his cheeks, she placed her lips against his. A small flutter of a laugh escaped her, her nose crinkling as she slid her hands down from his cheeks to his neck.

❤: one of our muses says the first “i love you” to the other

Lena had always had trouble with History of Magic. It was a subject of little importance to her, but thankfully enough she had her boyfriend to depend on. Douglas excelled in many subjects, and although she wasn’t completely sure History of Magic was one of them, she knew he could help more than anyone. She’d invited him to the library for a study session, but as she sat there she couldn’t help herself from drowning out his explanations. She definitely needed the help, but she couldn’t focus on a single thing he was saying. When she was around him, things were entirely different. He made her experience things that she never had before, and although it confused her, she relished every unfamiliar feeling. Her fingers twirled a single strand of messy blond hair, chewing on her lower lip as she began to loose herself in her own mind. Things were so different around Douglas. He made her feel sick to her stomach in the best way possible. He made her head spin, and her heart race. He made her completely loose any sense of reality when he was around, and when he wasn’t around, she felt the strangest need to be. They weren’t a match made in heaven, if anything, they were the exact opposite. He came from a long line of purebloods. Slytherin’s nonetheless. She was a muggle born Gryffindor, but no matter their differences, they made it work.  She’d spent the earlier times in their relationship questioning how long they could make it last, but as time went on, she began to forget what it was like to be without him. She was terrified to admit it, but she eventually came to the realization of what she felt. With a slight shake of her shoulder, she knew that he was asking her something—something about the text no doubt. Rather than giving an answer, she knew what she had to say. Without hesitation the words surpassed her lips. “Doug, I think I love you.”

She hadn’t left her bed in weeks, her blonde hair was beyond greasy and matted, not having showered for even longer than that. It had been exactly a year and it hadn’t gotten any better. She hadn’t gotten any better. Everyone had been effected that night. Everyone had lost someone—but she hadn’t just lost someone, she’d lost her entire world. He had been the light in her life, the only ray of sunshine in a time when darkness clouded the world around her. He had been her everything for as long as she could remember, and loosing him had broken her in a way she couldn’t have ever imagined. When you loose someone, your only someone, it changes you. Lena, the girl who had been fierce as a lioness and bright as a the sun had been overcome with grief and with each passing day it continued to get worse. She woke every morning, expecting him to be there beside her, and he wasn’t. It should have been her. God she fucking wished it had been her. But it hadn’t, and nothing would ever change that. She knew that she had to get up, get out of bed, but she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to do that. She wasn’t sure she could find the energy or the courage to drive herself over there, to see his name carved into grey stone. Swallowing back the urge to sob, a feeling that frequently came over her, she pushed herself out of bed. She didn’t bother getting dressed. She didn’t bother grabbing her keys. She didn’t even bother getting in the car. The graveyard was close enough to her home anyway. Bare foot and messy, the woman made her way across the street, down the block until she reached the dreaded area. She’d never been since the funeral, but she knew exactly how to get to his grave. It was one of the things that no matter how withered away she became she would always remember how to reach. Siting down on the wet grass she rested her head against the cool stone. “How could you fucking do this to me. How could you leave me like this. We were supposed to have everything…I miss you so much it hurts, Doug. It really fucking hurts.”

“You know we’re suppose to be together. I knew it the first time I saw you, and you know it, too. I know you do.”

   She wanted to agree with him– there was a time she did, wholeheartedly. But now?? Times were dark and the future looked nothing but grim. Faith in the world, in herself, in HIM, was hard to manage. Coming from his mouth, it sounded so easy to believe, but he was full of pretty lies, and it was often hard for her to find the truth that was mixed in. She could believe him now, in this moment, but after he left, she was left to think about how WRONG he was, and how they just didn’t make sense. In what world could they possibly love each other? When would they be allowed such a thing? Never.  “I love you. You know I do–But this, us? It can’t happen. You know it, and I know it. Stop making this harder than it needs to be and just let me end things between us. P l e a s e?”

“That’s it. End of discussion.”

  Brows raised at how dismissive he was, her irritation soon developed into anger. Arms crossing over her torso in a huff, she shook her head, eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to fathom how he could think he had the authority to end the discussion simply because HE wanted to. “No, Douglas. That’s not how it works. You don’t get that say. I’m just as much a person as you.” Despite his thoughts, how he’d been raised, she deserved to speak just as much as he. He couldn’t dismiss her words, he couldn’t dismiss H E R. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, and it wouldn’t happen. “No, fuck that– And I don’t like that you think you can make that call.”

“I could kill you right now!”

   She wished he would. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take– everything hurt, and it could only get worse. His family had gotten wind of what they had, and at first she’d thought it’d be okay (( she’d prayed it would be )), but it hadn’t. They’d waited it out until the two had thought it passed. Without any idea of the hell that lay before them, the two had gotten swept up into a mess of trouble. Broken body lay in a heap at Doug’s feet, deserapte to shy away but too defeated to move. Breathing was a struggle in itself. It was only moments before his family came back into the room, before they made him use the curse on her once more. She was long passed begging him to kill her, the only noise passing through her lips by now ragged screams. She couldn’t muster words if she tried.

“You’ve never done this before?"

 She really couldn’t understand his panic. It was entirely misplaced, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think he didn’t TRUST her. There wasn’t a single ship she couldn’t pilot, and she’d be damned if she didn’t hold that record true today. (( Besides, getting this baby to fly would be something to hold over his head for ages )). “No! But how hard can it be? I’ve flown a B-wing/E before. This is nothing.” She didn’t bother to look over her shoulder as she responded, for a number of reasons–focus needing to be on her hands, but more than anything not wanting to see how bad his injuries were just yet. It had to be bad, she needed a fucking co-pilot, and he wouldn’t leave her confused out in the open like this knowing that unless he couldn’t. She needed to get this thing off the ground before they heard a big kaboom closer than they ever should. He was relying on her–she wouldn’t let him go out like this.

"Okay, good because I was starting to worry you might be in love with me."

  Brow raised, followed by a short laugh and a roll of her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t sure what they had going, what this was?? But it’d swung out of  f r i e n d l y  territory a hell of a long time ago. They weren’t who they were when they started this, and their relationship wasn’t remotely the same either. Could she call it love? Yeah, probably. But would she? ABSOLUTELY NOT. (( And never to his face )). With a heavier hit than usual, her fist collided with his shoulder. “Don’t worry, i’m out of your league anyway–You haven’t got a chance.. Besides, I’ve got better things to do than fall for you, Dorvin.”

"You need anything else, you know where to find me.”

  Admittedly he was good. Good with his hands. Good with filling in the gaps of knowledge she lacked. Especially good with making her crazy. She couldnt’ stand him. More often than not she wanted to smack the smug words right out of his mouth, a pre-emptive strike before he could test his fate with whatever ‘witty’ remark he had. Rolling her eyes (( an action as familiar as breathing at this point )), she struggled to bite down her commentary. It was always easier to leave it be, never eager for him to bite back, but she was a gambling woman, and she couldn’t help but play it risky. With a massive pull, she ripped away a few wires, metal parts enclosed around it. Dropping the useless item, turned to him, hands still in the mess that was her ship. “And why would I go looking for you? What can you offer me, Cato? Commentary I don’t need or want. Much appreciated, but i’ve got this handled.” Suddenly, a searing pain struck her palm, yanking her hand away, her eyes whipped to the source– a minor combustion. “Not a word.” she near shouted as she scrambled to take care of the mishap.

"If you weren’t half dead, I would kick your ass.“

  Breath short, words forced, she struggled to keep her eyes open. “You couldn’t if you tried.” The laugh that followed caused a wince of pain, face contorted in regret and agony. She was better off not talking (( Not breathing, really. Everything hurt )). This is what they’d really signed up for. The never ending approach of death. She’d seen it before, up close and person, NOW more than ever, but she never expected herself to be on the receiving end of the final blow. She’d bargained for too much, thrown too many credits into the pile without realizing the bet was a loss. This was bigger than her, than what she was ready for, and she was paying the ultimate price now. She wanted to last it out, needed to more than anything. Who did Cato have if not her? It wasn’t fair of her to leave him, but who was she to deny that giving up now would be easier than fighting for it, only to meet this fate another day. Resting her head against his shoulder, she let out a shaky, slow breath. In secrecy, she hoped this would end soon, that no help would come. Her next words were quiet, hardly managed out. Maybe he could mistake them for something generic, rather than her true thoughts.  “I’m sorry.”

“We should get a puppy!”

  She didn’t bother hiding the excitement, a large smile spreading across her cheeks. To say that her relationship with Nate was an odd one was an understatement if any. He had been none to eager to start up a legitimate thing with her, (( admittedly, understandably so )), but things had been going well. The two had been ‘steady’ for a short while now, just recently moving in together, but this was something new. she couldn’t tell if he was serious, but she hoped he was. Although she was in school, it was online classes, and while he was away at work his house could be so lonely. A puppy would be the perfect thing for this household. Could she call it that yet? “I do really like dogs. And I wouldn’t mind taking care of them– It’d give me something to do while you’re away. I think that’d be really damn cool.”

“I’m gonna lay down and die for like half hour okay?”

  With a sweet smile, she closed the space between her and the hotel bed. Although she didn’t personally understand how exhausting medical conventions could be, she felt the sympathy for him. Crawling into the bed and laying on top of him, she nodded in acknowledgement. “Let me know when you wanna come back to life, kay?”

“I did not mean for stripping to come out of this.”

     Awkwardly, she clasped her hands together, placing them in front of her body. He was always doing this to her– telling her it was wrong, what they had. Calling her a kid, saying they couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted to prove that she wasn’t too young for him, that she could be just as mature as the other women he knew, that he’d been with. When he’d invited her over for dinner, she’d figured it was the perfect time, but she should’ve known better. She should’ve known what shit he would’ve pulled. With a heavy sigh, irritation clear in her voice, she turned to grab her sweater from the couch behind her.      “You never mean for ANYTHING to come out of anything, Nate.”

#ignore for now

[eleiszon-blog]

Extradimensional Chess (3/3)

The following is an analysis of the various players and moves made throughout Part 18, the final episode of The Return. It is the third entry in a trilogy, the prior entries covering Lodge-relevant events from Parts 1, 2 and 17. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We open on Mr. C seated in the Waiting Room. His eyes have partially reverted to their earliest cloudy state. He is in flames. I believe this fire is the ultimate, primordial state of a doppelganger and, indeed, all negative energy. A long-troubled David Lynch script, Ronnie Rocket, has had many of its ideas recycled into The Return. One of these ideas makes no explicit appearance but I believe it exists within Twin Peaks. “The entire stage is filled with a wall of fire 200 feet high.  Within the fire are thousands of souls screaming out silently . . . only the roaring of the fire.” - The first line of the script of Ronnie Rocket. I believe this fire of voicelessly wailing souls is what Mr. C shall join. Windom is there too. Chet Desmond, I believe, is also there. And I believe that fire is the metaphysical core of JUDY, the purest formation of negative energy. 

Mr. C is gone. We see MIKE salvage his gold core and, with a spark of e-lec-tri-city, join it to a bit of Dale’s hair to forge a new Dougie tulpa. This was at Dale’s request to satisfy Janey. Nice guy.

We cut to Jackrabbit’s Palace. Dark, empty. Dale was escorting Laura. She vanished. He is alone now - but not for long.

The Waiting Room. MIKE and The Arm. “Is it the story of the little girl who lived down the lane?” -- Audrey said something similar to this earlier. This post isn’t about Audrey but I think that line has to do with her. Another entry, that. 

Dale moves into a hall and beckons a gateway open. He has grown powerful in the Waiting Room. And with the scheming doppelgangers and BOB gone, he finally can go out.

Here in Glastonbury Grove, he meets up with a relieved Diane. This is the ‘curtain call’ at which he promised to meet her. I also believe this moment echoes across time: The appearance of the curtains at this moment is what Hawk witnessed back in Part 2. “Someone is here.”, MIKE said. It was Hawk.

“Almost exactly 430 miles.” -- 430 miles out is where Dale will cross. The Fireman told him this in a dream back in Part 1.

Diane is uncertain and urges pause to consider their options. Everything could change. Dale knows this. He is resolute. They kiss. They continue onward.

At a hotel, Diane witnesses a duplicate of herself. At this point, I must diverge briefly into The Secret History of Twin Peaks and more particularly the life and Work of Jack Parsons. Per the text, I believe Jack Parsons was destroyed by the fires of JUDY via the Black Lodge. He is in the howling wall with Windom, Mr. C. and others. Now, Jack Parsons once initiated a ritual he believed would summon an ‘elemental’. Immediately afterward, he met a red-haired woman whom he regarded to be this entity. For Twin Peaks’ purposes, I believe Diane to be such an entity, her hair deliberately reminiscent of the Waiting Room’s red drapery. I do not believe that this was always the case but that she became ‘touched’ by otherworldly influences throughout her ordeal shelled up as Naido. I believe that while Diane herself remains human Diane -- is it future or is it past -- this duplicate is a ’yet-to-come’ entity, wholly of the Other Place. As Jack Parsons did, we may call her the Scarlet Woman.

Cooper invites Diane to join him in the motel. The door is marked 7. As I’ve noted previously in an entry about Jeffries’ path through FWWM and The Return, 7 symbolizes seeking, searching for truth...In that entry about Jeffries, I offer that the numbers associated with Jeffries increase as his ‘rank’ in Twin Peaks’ world increases. He is ever more enlightened and knowing. This same applies here: What Dale does in this room will elevate him to a higher space than where he was before.

Dale and Diane lay together. He lies largely still while she seems to be desperate to obscure his face. Some believe this to be residual trauma about Mr. C violating her. I think it is simply the ever-encroaching memory shift. Diane is beginning to forget the ‘unofficial version’ and so what was a consensual matter with a man she loves is slipping into a strange and much darker territory as those memories fall apart.

The distress plain on her face is her realization of this slipping remembrance, her desperation to try to remember despite it, her shaky determination to continue despite the mounting fear of this ‘stranger’ taking her and the fear itself. Yes, this is a bad scene for Diane. Why does it occur? As noted previously, she has been marked by the energies of Another Place.  What is the end result of intercourse, generally speaking? Sperm shot into a womb which births new life. Diane’s ‘marking’ by those energies occurred during her stay in the Generator, a negative-creative space which (at least at first) bordered the positive-creative space of the Eternal Ocean. Metaphorically and also metaphysically, Diane is a womb comprised of pure creative energies. Add DNA (courtesy of Dale) to that and you get one hell of a conception.  “When will the new universes be born?” “Soon...” - That’s the ending dialogue of Ronnie Rocket. I find that idea fits exactly well here. 

Dale awakes in a different bed. He is alone. He finds a letter addressed to ‘Richard’ from ‘Linda’. She does not recognize him anymore. He should not look for her. Indeed, Diane’s memory faltered fully in the end and she has no recognition of this man anymore nor even who she was -- she’s “Linda” now. Or is she? Truthfully, I believe as Diane’s memories of the ‘unofficial version’ gave out, she lost the names she knew for herself and Dale, merely writing whichever ones came to her mind instead. Hm? Yes, my interpretation of this sequence is kinda seriously dark, thanks for noticing. I didn’t go looking for it to be though!

Dale exits his room. The hotel at large has changed as well. It bears some slight similarity to the hotel area of The Dutchman’s but I checked. They are not alike. 

Dale goes for a drive. He passes a diner which invites ‘Eat at JUDY’S!’ Many view this as a sign that this is a pocket dimension devised by JUDY to trap Dale. I do not follow. However, it may well be a sign that this space is innately nearer to JUDY. (Remember, the Fireman-JUDY conflict is one of balance VS. lack thereof.)

In the diner, Cooper deals with some antagonistic fellows in a decidedly un-Zen manner. Much has been made of this. I consider it only a personality-shift of some degrees. I once equated this change to processes of alchemy, the final stage of which is a balancing of opposites. He is more aggressive as Mr. C yet he operates slowly and repetitively as Droolcoop. The balanced result is a no-nonsense character of highly deliberated method. He’s still a good guy but he has much less patience fucking around with the bad guys. THIS Dale would’ve slapped Albert in the face for his uppity attitude back in season one.

After taking care of business, he obtains the address of an absentee waitress and goes on his way. Also he fried a gun which is pretty cool.

He heads toward Odessa. Texas. Yes, apparently, his new motel was also wildly relocated because he’s not too far from Texas now. Outside the waitress’ house, a familiar pole. I’ve detailed the meaning of ‘6′ before as relating to base, Earthly affairs. Carnal, animal. Black Lodge. The other numbers - with the 6 included - also match coordinates to the former site of the Trinity test from Part 8.

Now we meet Carrie Page. She doesn’t know a Laura or a Leland but “Your mother’s name is Sarah” gives her pause. Dale wants to take her to her mother’s house and, hey, she needs a ride out of town anyway.

Many note a golden ball of some sort in Carrie’s lawn. Dale’s latest pin is a golden circle as well. Perhaps a clue, perhaps not. As I’ve said before, I believe Cooper is becoming “the magician” of MIKE’s poem but perhaps in time he’ll also become one of the Dreamers living up in the Theatre.

A man dead on the couch. Headshot. A mantel with an animal statuette. “Woe to the ones who behold the pale horse.”

“I tried to keep a clean house...” This line plus her frazzled state, the ‘pale horse’ symbolism, the dead man... It reeks of a domestic abuse scene. The dead man was her husband. He was another BOB too, I’d wager. Carrie copes with bullets instead of cocaine.

The ‘Palmer’ house. And here, I’d like to note the number on the house. 708. Let’s travel back to Part 1. For a moment.

The sound of this device is the sound of Laura vanishing from the woods. Once upon a time, a particular breed of these machines was built to operate at 78 revolutions per minute. They were even called 78s. 708...0 is often a mathematical placeholder. Drop it. 78. Put it back in. 708. The Fireman’s line planted this connection: If you hear that sound, “find Laura” (per not-Leland’s instruction), go to 7-8(708). He even had a contingency plan if Laura were to be snatched - which she was.

Alice Tremond lives at 708. Sarah Palmer who? She bought the place from a Chalfont. We know Tremond to be a name borrowed from humans, as per the actual Mrs. Tremond living in that trailer Donna visited in season one. ‘Chalfont’ though is purely referential to that grandma-grandson Lodge couple. JUDY sent them to stall up whatever the Fireman had Dale set to do here.

“What year is this?” - Dale’s own memory of the ‘unofficial version’ may be slipping a bit here, or he may just be getting...Fuzzy. To reference Ronnie Rocket again, if I may, the key conflict of that script is reaching the villain at the center of a great city. The closer one got, the more difficult it became and the more ‘bad electricity’ would disorient and deter them. I consider this exactly the nature of what is troubling Dale in this scene. His ‘current’ is picking up static. Interference because yes, he is closer to JUDY.

Carrie gazes up at the Chalfont house. An echo from within: ‘Laura?’, Sarah Palmer calls upstairs to her absent daughter, from a world which no longer is but is still taking its sweet time to fade entirely. Carrie screams.

The lights go out. Inside the house but also, it seems, in the very world. It resembles, to me, the state of The Dutchman’s in The Return. And indeed, it is exactly that. From the Chalfont presence, the temporal anomaly (’Laura?’, straight out of the pilot), the darkened visual...It all connects. Indeed, we see the Dutchman flee from the store as Dale goes to meet Jeffries. If the Dutchman has taken hold of Sarah, the old Palmer house would fit for a new domain. After all, Sarah was overseer there as the Dutchman oversaw the store.The monsters set up shop here now and they clutched the fading strings of the ‘previous’ world to flood the old horrors back into Carrie’s head. But...Is it a bad ending? Well. Not really. I believe that Dale successfully peeled back another layer of this world’s cosmology. He is one ‘universe’ closer to a true face-to-face with JUDY. I think I used an onion metaphor earlier? Still counts. One more layer done. In accomplishing that, he won a battle --- but JUDY and her servants made their own moves and kept the war ongoing. 

We end on a slowed repeat of the Blonde Girl whispering to Dale. I believe the whisper is different again. An unfortunately scrapped line from the store meeting in FWWM has the Little Man proclaim “Any everything will proceed cyclically”. That is what she whispers now because, yes, there must be more cycles -- but, eventually and with perseverance, he will locate JUDY. Every cycle will bring him closer -- Jeffries’ “This is where you’ll find JUDY” is accompanied by an 8, suggesting that Dale requires one more cycle (his hotel room was marked by a 7, being the place where he would transition to that level) to achieve the Blue Rose’s aim of locating JUDY -- and thus every cycle will meet fiercer and more desperate resistance and offense...But he has made progress and can continue to do so. And so, it is a “victorious” ending in a small, optimistic-for-the-future way. Yet he must continue to fight, to struggle, to endure until he finds JUDY at the center of all. Until then, as the Fireman tells him...

[fffffaaarrrrrgogo]

Part 4 ruminations

Part 4 ruminations

Part 4 Bean Burritos with Maria's Familia

You find yourself alone on the floor of the living room cleaning up a puddle of your urine and the various spills you weren't able to swallow. You can clearly hear Carmen and Maria's voice in the other room along with maybe three or four other voices you don't recognize. You do the best you can to hurry the cleaning process along so you can wash up in the bathroom. You would prefer their first impression of you wasn't with a face full of the remnants of Maria's pee.

Luckily they take their time chatting with one another. From the sounds of it someone just won a big basketball tournament. You finish cleaning and go to the bathroom, you take your time and enjoy the minutes of solitude. As you wash your hands in the restroom you can overhear Maria explaining to everyone how she has a special surprise in store. It seems even the walls of the restroom are thin in this small cozy house. You look in the mirror and remember just how ridiculous you look in the red tank top with the word slut on it and pink mini skirt. Both articles of clothing crusty and pungent from being used to sponge up Maria's spooge.

You walk out to the living room where you are greeted by four fresh faces.

Maria introduces you with a "Here he is, gang! This is the boy I was telling you about! Meet my younger sister Gabriella, my older sister Victoria and her two twins Sonia and Sophia. Actually, Miho, it just occured to me that I haven't even asked your name yet."

"It's Doug"

"That's just like you, Maria! Asking for their name AFTER getting with them." said Victoria. Victoria the older sister had tan Latino skin and a slender figure, wearing a tight black leather coat and form fitting dark pants that showed off every curve. You would not have guessed that someone with such a slender waist was the one who mothered the twin girls. She had pulled back ravens black hair, dark eyebrows and a scrunched up face that said resting bitch. She had a cartoonishly large bubble butt that protruded way out from her smaller hips, it was like someone had shoved two balloons down the backseat of her pants. The way she held herself screamed that you did not want to mess with her, she was a bad bitch.

"Oh my god what is he wearing!?" asked Sonia, or perhaps it was Sophia? You honestly had no idea how to tell them apart, they looked exactly alike.

"Maria, did you give him those clothes?" asked Sophia.

"Oh no, this is what he was wearing when I found him. I did add my own personal flair to it though..." remarked Maria.

Sonia and Sophia were 18 year old identical twins who went to the same school as you. Despite being younger, both were taller and far more fit than you. Each still had on their basketball jersey and shorts along with sweatbands covering the top of their forehead. The sweat from their big game made their bronze skin glisten. They had light brunette hair and killer bods. So well proportioned they could probably do modeling gigs, although they weren't the pencil thin atheletic type, they were still thicc in the hips. Youthful perky D cup breasts and full round apple shaped ass cheeks. You pray that these identical twins wouldn't be opposed to fucking you together. It's always been your fantasy to have a threesome with a pair of identical twins.

"He must be a really be some boy toy if he was able to get Carmen off!" noted Victoria.

"Si!" chimed in Carmen. "I know you're not super fond of men, Victoria, but you've got to give this one a go! He's a real keeper."

Victoria: "Hmmph. We'll see." 

Maria: "He's going to try and fill the void by taking over Papi's roles. It's going to be so nice to have a MAN around the house."

Sophia: "Does that mean tonight we can have a dinner like when Papi was around?"

Maria: "I was thinking just that! Good thing we didn't throw out Papi's leashes!" Maria then approached her younger sister Gabriella, who had been noticeably silent this whole time, seems she was distracted by playing on her phone.

"Gabriella, Doug over here says he wants to play Doggie."

"Oooh Yes! I love playing Doggie! Here boy!" Gabriella's face was lit up with delight as she beckoned you over to the hallway closet. Maria's younger sister Gabriella wore glasses and had long blonde hair with dark roots. Of all the Gomez family, she was the thiccest. Largest curves of everyone, most notably her heaving bosom,  the biggest and bounciest breasts than even Maria or Carmen.  She's wearing a shirt of a cute little Hello Kitty character but the character is hopelessly stretched out from her tig ol bitties.  Her whole body seems like a golden marshmallow. A soft pudgy girl who's seemingly more interested in her phone than her surroundings unless the game of Doggie is involved.

"This is going to be so much fun! Who's a good doggy? Who's a good doggy?!"

"Um, I am" Then Gabriella gives you a quick light slap on the cheek.

"Ah ah ah!" She says waving her index finger left and right. "Doggies don't talk. Now who's a good doggy?!"

"....Bark!"

"GOOD BOY, Dougie!!! Oh My Gosh! I just realized that Dougie sounds like Doggy! Hee hee That's so funny!" Gabriella gives you several affectionate pets on the top of the head. She then puts you in a collar and attaches several leashes to you. She then "walks" you back to the kitchen while holding the multitude of leashes attached to your collar. You imagine that playing doggie entails them serving you food and water in doggie bowls. Maybe they'll make you beg or try to teach you tricks? That's your best guess. It's not exactly your kink but certainly better than swallowing piss.

You arrive at the kitchen on all fours to find Victoria sitting at the head of the large dinner table, the twins on one side and Carmen and Maria at the other side.

She lifts up the tablecloth and motions for you to crawl underneath. You do as your told and once you are under the table you immediately realize that all the women are completely bottomless! come face to face with six chubby penises staring back at you. What a feast for the eyes! 

cucoon and snow man , mushroom, knob

you're under the kitchen table and they have you on leashes and pull you around. Pulling back their foreskin reveals fresh precum they've been building in anticipation of your oral attention. Victoria's dick actually smells nice. The twins smell as bad as Carmen, they really did just go run up and down a basketball court. The teens fight over whose thighs your head would spend time between (phrasing?) You notice that the teenagers have rock hard dicks, like so erect and pointed and throbbing) They spill beans on their dick and ask you to eat it off them. One asks to be excused to go to the restroom and maria says do it right there, from now on he will be taking every drop of liquid that comes from our dicks. One of them is upset that they peed before leavign the soccer game. But maria says don't worry, just drink up! and offers her a refill of lemonade. The adults leave and then the nieces pull your leash out side the table so they can give you a big ol bean burrito fart. “Do you want more beans?” “Nods” “Okay, close your eyes and open your mouth” Pulled down shorts and asshole in the open mouth fart. “Eww Gross!” “Ha ha fucking nerd!” You set out to clean the dishes and as you are her sister comes in and says knees. You quickly drop down as she whips out her dick. You sit htere stunned staring at it waiting for a command but then she slaps you and says Come on! I got to go! The commercials will be over soon. You then pull back her foreskin and take the head of her cock into your mouth and immediately a torrent of piss shoots down your throat. You try your best to keep up with her pace but cannot and some ends up spilling down your cheeks. Maria was right, you do need more practice. Can't wait for my chance to ravage your ass. Maria says it might be worthy of satisfying us.

Right before you finish up kitchen the other twin comes in and says, hey did you want that lemonade? I've got it nice and ready for you.

You pick up on the not so obvious cue and get down on your knees and open your mouth. She whips out her frighteningly shaped sweaty smelly cock, and shoves it deep into your mouth. At the end though she pulls out her willy and pees all over your face. Just marking my territory, tee hee!  

You walk into the living room as the family is gathered together watching something on tv. You walk in and sit down next to the couch. You notice the twins pointing at you and whispering. Then you see Sonia (the one who farted on you and you said gross to) start making noises like she was crying or holding back tears.) Victoria instantly reacts, "Oh my dear Sonia, what's wrong? Que esta mal?"

"*Sniff* Seeing Doug reminded me of how rude he was to me after dinner"

"WHAT?!?!"

"Yeah, I accidentally made an unladylike sound, and Doug called me disgusting/gross, he's so mean to me!"

"YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

"Hey no that's not what happened she purposefully farted in my face!"

"You're coming with me to the basement!" -Victoria

"WOAH WOAH WOAH Let's all calm down. Relajarse, hermana. The basement's way too much for his first day here. -Maria

"We've got to teach him a lesson!"

"I'll never say anything rude again!"- Doug

"I also accidentally tooted in the kitchen and he reacted with a face that said it was disgusting! It really hurt my feelings."

"I didn't mean to make a face, honest!"- Doug

"Doug, You have to promise to never say anything mean to women of this house, as well as never react to anything we do with anything but a smile. It's very impolite to make faces at ladies, No grimaces, no frowns, nothing! Comprende?"

"See look! He's getting better already! All he needs is time to get used to how things work around here, we don't have to take him to the basement yet!" -Maria

"Okay, Maria. Just this once. I'll let it slide. But if he ever does anything rude or harmful to my girls again, it will be straight to the basement."

Twins whispering and giggling.

"Would Doug be able to sleep in our room tonight?! That way he can make it up to us for hurting our feelings!"

"Yeah! Yeah! And if he's with us we can teach him the proper rules of how to respect women. Pretty please!"

"Well girls, since you did win your big game, I suppose as a reward you can have Doug sleepover in your room tonight as long as it's okay with your mother.

Hooray! " they glare over at you and you remember how gassy they were at the dinner table and cringe at the thought of sleeping in the same room as them.

But first, does anyone else need to use Doug's mouth to pee? He really needs the training. Mentions mean aunt.

You realize that on average people urinate six to eight times a day, and if you are the sole urinal for five hung latino women, that's a lot of time spent swallowing piss.

Oh and Dougie, I was able to contact your familia! Mother says as long as you're in school Monday morning you're welcome to spend the weekend with us!

Part 5 nieces bedroom, Maybe a little girly dress up to begin with. Sleepover with the twins, and they are sure to hold over the fact that their mom will punish you if they report any misbehaving. They start by making you lick their ass, of course they fart into your mouth. While you're licking one ass the other fucks you in the ass, filling you up with her creamy load. Then they immediately switch places and you have to go mouth deep into her ass while they other one fucks you using the first one's jizz as lube.

First position is you eating ass from her behind while the other one takes you doggie style. Second position is you on your back on the bed as one puts there ass in your mouth and the other fucks you missionary. the flick your weiner. Once she cums and now there's two big loads in you they plug you up with a nice pink anal plug. Causing extra discomfort as overnight you just have to deal with their large loads filling up your anal cativity. Maybe they'll call it your easy bake oven. hot. Overnight they fuck and fart, fuck and fuck and fart. fart fart fart fuck fuck fuck. They wake you up and face fuck you like an onahole. pee down your throat. 

They share a bed and you're between them. no windows. Can they make you sleep with their asses in your face? I would love that.

Part 6 Sunday: Your morning duty is to help everyone out with their morning wood. You give some a blowjob, maybe for Victoria she makes you bounce up and down on her cock and spanks your ass. Certainly a quick scene where Carmen unloads into you again. Maybe one of the aunts could be nerdy and could devise a schedule. I love the "Everybody's playtoy" schedule system. "Playtime with Gabriella" History of Victoria, her husband, father of the girls, was an asshole and that's why she hates men. the end.Victoria's husband or whatever ran off on her leaving her to take care of the girls by herself, with the help of family. We're all about togetherness here at the Gomezs. Now she's a man hater. Bayonetta type.

Playtime with Gabriella: She’s an innocent virgin who’s never done it before, but once you start speaking her nerd girl tumblr way, say by dressing up as a dog or something, she does it doggy style with you. Maybe Maria or someone tells her that Doggie dougie loves a dick in his butt. I’ve never used my dick before, I’m not like my sisters. I don’t know how to get that across. Her dick is the biggest of all and even though she’s the sweetest, she takes her role playing seriously so when she breaks your asshole cramming her oversized member in and you beg her to stop she slaps you and says dogs don’t talk!!! She turns into a beast when she discovers what she’s been missing, years of never cumming, today it all changes. her balls unload her lifetime of pent up nerdy jizz into your ass. her immense weight ontop of you forcing you down, breasts laying heavy atop your back. 

Part 7 Janitor help on Monday, i actually have a lot of ideas for this one.

Monday Janitor Day

Maria makes you do all the work but whenever she hears someone coming she has you hide in the garbage can on the cart. Her coworkers toss food poisoning food and puke ontop of you. Eventually you can't stand it and have to get out. They are mean and fuck you silly. Maria comes in and joins in taking ownership of you. They have a happy gangbang with you and tell Maria how you can cut a hole at the top of the plastic trash bin and use it like a gloryhole. So now you get wheeled around in a garbage can sucking maria and and any of her friends off.

You quietly mutter under your breath  "You have got to be kidding me.." Maria then whips in front of you and says "Excuse me?! Did you just talk back to me?"

"I'm sorry, Maria!" You quickly go to grab the clothes from off the pile of day old cafeteria food when Maria grabs the back of your head and forces you face first deep into the wet pile of discarded lunch leftovers. She pulls your head back as you cough and wheeze gasping for air but before you can finish breathing in, she's dunked you back down, giving you a mouth full of garbage. She continues dunking your head in and out as if giving you a viscious swirlie without the toilet bowl, bobbing your head up and down into the wet food bits. Mushy fish sticks, rotten apple slices, old strawberry yogurt, but most prominently is all the spaghetti bits that stick to your face and into your hair.  

"You will never back talk to me, Miho!" She then picks you up by the legs with ease and forces your entire torso down into the mushy rancid mess. She keeps you face first upside down in the garbage bin holding onto your legs, the only part of your body still sticking out of the disgusting heap for a minute before finally releasing you. You wriggle and squirm trying to lift yourself out of the filth, eventually you're able to lower your legs in and use your arms to come up to the surface and get a breath full of fresh air. You then carefully climb out of the trash bin, careful not to knock it over and further upset your beloved Mistress Maria.

"Now what do you say, miho?" she asks in a sweetly condescening tone.

"I'm sorry, Mistress, I will never back talk again." You reply. Maria then eyes you expectantly and you quickly realize you still haven't put on the clothes she wanted you to wear. 

[lynchgirl90]

@SHO_TwinPeaks #TwinPeaks is one of @EW's 10 Best TV Shows of 2017. #Showtime

BEST — 2. Twin Peaks

The world spins, the stars turn, the young grow old, the logs turn gold. Co-creators David Lynch and Mark Frost didn't recreate Twin Peaks. They sent their '90s cult phenomenon global — like a pandemic, or a religion. Kyle MacLachlan played three or four versions of the same man, a hard bad man on a mission, a good sad man lost in space, a cheerfully absorbent lobotomized little fellow named Dougie, sundry strange variations therein.

He drifted through dimensions, across state lines, and we tagged along all summer on his trippy road trip. It wasn't just his story. We saw murderers and insurance agents, true men and tough dames, coots, and psychopaths, a cast of hundreds, someone defeated eternal evil with a green garden glove, someone else ordered a red chair, true love was declared, a floor was swept.

Nothing seemed important but everything felt important. Audrey Horne (Sherilyn Fenn) and James Hurley (James Marshall) danced and sang, as they did long ago. A new generation rose, talking strangely as young people always do, speaking of penguins and house arrest. There were sequences unlike anything television has ever seen, mysteries to ponder for a lifetime. The dead spoke to us from beyond, Catherine E. Coulson and Miguel Ferrer, Warren Frost and now Harry Dean Stanton. Even David Bowie was alive again – but as the Log Lady told us, death is just change, not an end.

Twin Peaks changed, never quite ended. Everything came together in Vegas, in the mushroom cloud, in a small town in the Pacific Northwest, at a house as haunted as any world ever has been, see the face of Sheryl Lee, hear a final scream of remembrance. It defied logic and made perfect sense. The best dreams always do.

Link (TP)

#Twin Peaks #David Lynch #Mark Frost #Kyle MacLachlan #Sherilyn Fenn #James Marshall #Naomi Watts #EW #Best TV Show of 2017

[aintgot99problemsigot7]

Got7 Showcase (and me)

IT IS HERE IT IS BEGINNING OMYGOD

JJP praises maknae for raising the mood compares jjp showcase vs got7 showcase

Talking about bambam videography

Bambam got inspired on youtube

It’s YOUNGRISH TAIMU!!!!!!!!!!!

Words he learnt in nyc: ‘thanks a lot’ in a very ny accent

Yj went for vocal lessons in ny

Jackson – talking about papillon g6 goes aite aite aite aite loool

Yugie – learning a new genre of dance OMG SMTM6 TWISTED BY JUNOFLO I AM DYING

OMGGGGGGGGGGGG HAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAH

DED DEEEEEEEEEEED

*cry* why do I love yugyeom so much

Yugie does more sexy dancing

OMG THEY’rE GONNA PERFORM PARADISE I AM DED and its not even begun yet omgggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg

PARADISE SO GOOD

MARK IS LOOKING FIRE

THEY ARE ALL LOOKING SO FIRE I AM BURNT bambamstop it

Hahahah they all holding mic for yugie hahahha so cute

Youngjae giving us all the vocals yesssssssss

Vocal7 dance7 my soul feels blessed

OMG GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS YASS awwww that was so long ago

They look so cute doing this dance now I wonder if mark and js will do the flips omg

O shit I had missed jackson’s hip thrusts more than I thought

OH HERE COMES omg markkkkkkkkkkkk shitttt still killin it

Got6 cheers for Mark haha

SHITMARK I  missed that ‘every lady wants a piece of me’ <3

Jackson dougieing oooooooo flips oh babies I love you

Hahha omg mark looks so done

Album spoiler beautiful songs

OMGGGGGGG they look soooooo gooooooooood in their casual outfits OMG

BAMBAM being praised for lyric vid hahah BAM DONG NIM

You Are MV bb starts explaining story... ahgases says not to say more hahahha ahgase basically saying they don’t want to be spoiled. Hhahahhaha

Bambam making fun of other members in the video

Yugie says bb was a pro – bb spent all night editing. Bb makes a bad joke

Aww bb

Talking about JB writing you are

Jb: about someone that we’re thankful for…expresses relationship with fans, parents, etc

As I was writing the song…. He watched animation that had beautiful skies.  Beautiful Sky was the title but suddenly it was called You Are  - JYP DID THIS LMAO

Teenager – once u like someone you feel young oooo chorus is by rappers in this aww jb so cute… hahha bb saying they got more parts,that’s why bb asked for it to be title song LOL yg and bb chose teenager

LOL YJ made a joke no one got it

bb first time doing a song Remember You. Director n producer bb ahahha ‘I wanted to kill it this time’

senti lyrics… it was meant to be in arrival but didn’t get included

he didn’t want it to be like a foreigner wrote it so he made many many edits

yugs – hahahaha so cute he’s so shy lol at got6 picking on him he is so embarrassed

to me – uses a different beat, latin influenced beat ahhahhah JUNOFLO COMES OUT AGAIn  OMG I’m dyin why is he so darn cute

hahahhahhahah omg yugie pls

amerithaikong wrote face :D

hahahha got6 making fun of bb

missing your face isn’t just for gf bf it can be anyone you miss like your friends

hahahha mark is quiet

mark: LA gangsta coming out hahahha

‘the song is old’ ‘recorded this a while ago’

Theyre abt to play remember you

Bb: I think I need to go to the bathroom after this

Ommmmggggggh

Jackson singing OMG

IT IS SO SWEET IT SOUNDS SO SWEET

HOLY YOUNGJAE VOCALS

You can tell it’s v emotional… everyone is feelin it

They just performed FOREVER YOUNG <3

Bambam really went to the bathroom LOL

BB is back hahha

Jb: I was surprised, he wrote it well

Bb: I KNOW

LOLOLOLOL

Jb: im proud

LET ME <3

OMG TEENAGER IS SO GOOD

Rap line singing the chorus is the best thing ever

THANK YOU JB for this beauty teenager certified bop

Bb: this is why I wanted this to be title.. this is the bright concept u wanted

OMG over 250 mil hearts.. members are happy

Bb: sings teenager

Memebam came out while singing his own part in remember you

Jy yj: makes bb dab

LMAO they’re making the host do aegyo OMG DED

Jb: does ‘chic’ aegyo

Yg: rap LMAOOOOOOOOOOOoo o god hahahha im already laughing

Yg too hyped by himself. OMG :’D

Got6 making fun of papillon hahha aite aite aite aite

JS does papillon everyone cheers

YES YG WE WILL BE TOGETHER FOREVER I LOVE U MY PRECIOUS MAKNAE OMG

Ahgase: JINYOUNG!

JY: waeee~ *so cute*

Jy: talks about how happy he is that the title was by a member… I saw things I couldn’t working as 7 rather than 2

Got5 pervs: what did u see

LMAO

Mark: worked really hard on this, I hope u like it 

(I LOVE IT ALREADY MAKR)

Mark: love you (I LOVE YOU MORE)

JB: pretends to read from card (lol him and his gdad jokes honestly)

Thank you for coming aww he asked ahgases if they could see alright from far away

Jb starts recoding yj… yj poses whilegiving speech hahaha

Yj recording bb now hahhaa

Aww bb dnt worry we love you no matter what

Js: I’m got7’s Jackson, thank you for coming *cutie*

Bb: now recording JS

WHY THEY SO SOFT

Js: more than words i will show with my actions of working hard (I CAN ALREADY SEE IT BBY)

YOU ARE coming up next

OMG THE CHOREOOOO

VOCALS… I AM SLAYED

I AM DED

#got7 #7 for 7 #got7 showcase #ded #you are #era: 7 for 7 #jaebum #bambam #jackson #jackson wang #mark #mark tuan #youngjae #choi youngjae #jinyoung #yugyeom #2jae #markson #markjin #2young

[imaginingsoftly]

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time Pt. 9 - Morgan Rielly

Type: roommates to lovers, Y/N insert shorts, bed sharing (my favorite trope ever)

Requested: No

Warnings: arguing, minor meltdown, kissing(finally)

(Y/N = Your name, Y/N’s POV to Morgan’s, POV changes marked with a line)

A/N: Surprise, I managed to get another chapter out. My classes are coming to an end this week, so I should be able to write more frequently. Also, a few of you wanted some actual relationship action, so I’m thinking maybe two or three more parts?

“He kissed you? Twice?” Kat’s exclamations had Y/N shushing her quickly, looking over Kat’s shoulder to make sure Morgan hadn’t heard her from where he stood across the room. “Why am I just now hearing about this?” If Y/N hadn’t known her friend better, she’d think Kat was about to hit her.

Actually, knowing Kat she would. “Keep your voice down!” Kat rolled her eyes, unsatisfied. “He kissed my forehead, not a real kiss. We had played a drinking game, we were drunk and being friendly.” Y/N whispered her response and sent another anxious look at Morgan, though he caught her looking this time. He smiled gently at her, and Y/N smiled back. 

“You’re so into him it’s stupid, Y/N just fucking admit it and be happy for once.” It wasn’t like Kat to get angry like this, except maybe with her family. “You spend so much time worrying about your students and all of us that you forget to take care of yourself. When’s the last time you slept?” Y/N opened her mouth to protest Kat’s statements, but Kat cut her off. “No. I know for a fact you haven’t been sleeping, because Mo mentioned you were up when they got back from their roadie the other day. He notices you, Y/N, and he cares about you on a personal level.” Her tone softened slightly when she saw Y/N’s face. “I just want you to be happy, hun. I know you love your job and taking care of people is just who you are, but you deserve to have someone taking care of you too.”

She was right, and that was the worst part, but Y/N wasn’t going to go down that road. Mo enjoyed her company, he wasn’t into her like that. “We’re friends, Kat. Andrei kisses my forehead sometimes too, you know that.” 

Kat punched Y/N’s shoulder and gestured at Andrei dismissively. “Yeah, but he’s not into you like that. It’s like kissing his sister.” Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but Kat cut her off. “And no, clueless, Mo doesn’t mean it like that. He wants in your pants.” The latter statement had Y/N spitting the sip of beer she’d taken onto Kat in surprise. 

“Shit, Kat, I’m sorry!” Kat looked at her friend in disbelief, and Andrei was at Kat’s side before Y/N could do anything, pulling her gently towards their room to change. Y/N sighed and leaned back against the wall, taking a gulp of beer rather than just a sip. 

Thankfully, Morgan and the others were oblivious to what had happened. Teuvo had them all engaged in a debate about something, and none of them would have noticed if she’d stripped naked right there, let alone a minor disagreement between her and Kat. “She’s right, you know.” Y/N jumped as a hand came to rest on her hip and Dougie’s voice sounded from behind her. “He wants you bad. Not just into your pants, though,” he corrected quickly, “like for real. Mo’s got it bad.” She twisted to look up at the defenseman, ready to argue, but he held up a hand. “Don’t. I’ve known you for a couple of years now, and he’s my D partner. You’re so into each other it’s stupid.” 

Dougie looked past you and laughed. “He’s on his way over here right now. Tell me, would a guy that isn’t into you care that I’m standing this close?” He stepped to the side and around you, heading towards the guys without another word. Morgan did look kind of mad, she would give him that. Dougie smirked at Morgan as they passed each other, and he twisted his head to wink at you from behind Morgan’s back once he was past his partner. 

“You okay?” Morgan’s hands came up to rest on your shoulders as he looked at you with concern.

What? Y/N looked at him confusedly. “It’s just Dougie, Morgan, he’s fine.” 

Now it was Morgan’s turn to be confused. “What? No. I meant with Kat. It looked like you guys were fighting.” Of course he had noticed. Y/N nodded, and Morgan seemed to get the message she didn’t want to elaborate, because he smiled. “You want to get out of here? I know you have that meeting tomorrow, do you want to try and go to bed early?” He killed her when he was that thoughtful. Morgan somehow seemed to remember her schedule better than she could, and his knack for remembering her meetings meant he almost never failed to make sure she was in a good mental state. He’d come home late from a road trip on more than one occasion to find her still awake, and sometimes his reminders to go to sleep were the only thing that kept her from dropping from exhaustion. 

“The meeting got cancelled and rescheduled to Monday because they’d rather we do it in person,” she said, “but I would love to go to sleep.” Morgan smiled at her again. “Okay. Let’s say goodnight to everyone, and then we can go.” The guys were reluctant for the two to leave, minus Dougie, who gave Y/N a wink when she looked in his direction. She sent an unimpressed look back, and he pulled her in for a hug.

“Tell him, Y/N,” he whispered into her ear. Y/N pulled back and gave Dougie another glare. He ruffled her hair, completely unbothered. Kat and Andrei had yet to return, so Morgan and Y/N yelled their goodbye up the stairs. She would talk to Kat in the morning and explain. 

Morgan led her out of the house and held out his hand for her keys. “Can I drive?” Y/N nodded and handed them over wordlessly. Kat and Dougie’s words were still flying through her head as she settled into the passenger seat, and Morgan seemed to get the message that she didn’t want to talk. He drove them back into the city silently, the only sound in the car from the radio. It was hard to believe that he was interested in her as well. He was such a carefree guy, and here she was this bundle of nervous energy and caffeine. Their friendship worked, but she wasn’t sure that they could actually be together. Sooner or later he was going to get tired of her neediness and then she’d lose one of her best friends. 

“You okay, Red Sox?” Morgan’s hand settled onto her knee with a gentle squeeze. Y/N snapped back into the present, and she looked over at Morgan to find the car had stopped and he was twisted in his seat to face her. He looked concerned, like maybe they had been parked for a while. 

Y/N stared out into the parking garage for a beat before responding. “Do you ever get tired of reminding me to take care of myself?” She was afraid to look at Morgan’s face, but she didn’t have a choice when he gently gripped her chin and turned her face to look at him. Morgan looked shell-shocked as he responded. “Why would you ever think that?” Y/N shrugged, and she was struggling not to cry as she continued to meet his eyes. “I was just thinking about all the times you’ve reminded me that I need to sleep, or eat something, or reassured me that I’m a good teacher, and I figured you’re probably tired of it by now.”

Morgan was staring at her like she was crazy, and that was it. Y/N jumped out of the car, hurrying to the stairs like she could pretend the conversation had never happened. “Red Sox!” She heard Morgan swear, jumping out of the car and hurrying after her. “Y/N, wait!” She ignored him, and began running up the stairs as quickly as she could, taking them two at a time. She was fast enough to beat him to the apartment, but swore when she realized Morgan had the keys. He appeared in the hallway right as she slumped back against the door to the apartment. Morgan was breathing heavily, and he approached her like he was afraid she’d run away again. Y/N dropped her head to avoid looking into his eyes, and slid into the apartment as soon as Morgan had the door unlocked. 

Y/N was already heading towards her room when Morgan caught her wrist, spinning her around to face him. He didn’t look mad when she finally met his eyes, and she was startled to find that she was crying as he gently swiped a thumb over her cheek. “What happened, sweetheart?” Y/N shook her head. This was exactly what she was worried about. She’d lose it, and he was always there to listen. Morgan sighed and pulled her tight into his chest. “I don’t mind reminding you to eat, or to sleep, or to make sure you know how amazing you are. You’re my favorite superhero, Y/N, and I try my best to tell you whenever I can.” Y/N choked out a laugh, and she felt Morgan’s chest move as he chuckled as well. “You’re my friend, Red Sox, and I’m here for you no matter what. That’s what friends do.” He kissed the top of her head gently, and Y/N pulled back to look up at him. Morgan reached out and tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear. “Is that what you and Kat were arguing about?” Y/N shook her head. 

“No,” she said, her voice raw from crying, “it was something else. What she said just got me thinking about other stuff, and then I spiraled. I’m sorry for freaking out on you.” Morgan cupped her face gently, and Y/N went a little weak in the knees at his expression. “So I’m your favorite superhero, huh,” she teased to change the subject. 

Morgan laughed and let go of her face to pull out his phone. “I forgot you don’t know about that yet.” He settled on the couch and patted the spot next to him. “We had these kids ask us interview questions the other day after practice,” Morgan began once Y/N sat next to him, “and one of them asked who our favorite superhero was. You were the first person that popped into my head.” Y/N began to protest, and he put an arm around her shoulders to tug her closer. “No, Red Sox, seriously. You’re a superhero, and you’re my favorite. Hell, even Svech and a couple of the other guys agreed with me.” Y/N leaned her head onto Morgan’s shoulder and slid an arm across his stomach to give him a hug. 

They sat like that in silence to watch the video. It really was cute. The kid who had asked the question was only 4 or 5 years old, and Morgan was just as good with him as he was every other kid Y/N had watched him interact with. The kid had laughed when Morgan said she was his favorite superhero, but he seemed to like the answer more when Morgan said every teacher was a superhero. It was probably the sweetest thing anyone had ever said about her, and she was having trouble putting that appreciation into words. Y/N only spoke when the Canes logo showed on the screen. “I don’t tell you enough that I appreciate you, Mo. Thank you.” 

“Please don’t call me that.” Y/N lifted her head to look at Morgan in confusion. He continued before she could speak anymore, a small apologetic smile on his lips. “You’re the only person I know who calls me Morgan. I like that. I always know when you’re the one calling my name.” 

Y/N burst into laughter, and Morgan followed along with her. “That is quite possibly the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said to me, and you have some of the cheesiest one-liners I’ve ever heard.” She settled deeper into Morgan’s side. “I need to go to sleep, but you’re really comfy.” 

The world tilted suddenly as Morgan swept her into his arms and stood all in the same breath. “We’ll cuddle then. You need your sleep.” He carried her into her room, settling her gently onto the bed, though he leaned down to look into her eyes. “Are you okay with this?” Y/N nodded, and Morgan’s smile gave her enough serotonin to last her the week. “I’ll go get ready for bed, and I’ll be right back.” Y/N stared into the hallway he’d just disappeared into for a second, collecting herself before she even tried to stand. This was either going to be a great night's sleep, or totally suck because the guy she was into was going to share her bed completely platonically.

By the time Morgan came back, Y/N was plugging in her phone to charge. It was a good thing she was already sitting, because a shirtless Morgan in loose pajama pants was going to do her in. It wasn’t like she’d never seen him like this before; the guy had a tendency to walk around the apartment half-dressed, but he’d never done it in the context they were in right now. Y/N lifted the covers slightly, and Morgan slid in next to her. It was awkward for a second, when Morgan went in like he was going to spoon her and Y/N turned to face him like they were going to talk, but she ended up tucked neatly into his chest with their faces inches apart. 

Some hair had fallen over Y/N’s eyes during the shuffle, and Morgan reached up to sweep it off her face. His hand settled onto her cheek for a second before his arm slid back around her middle and pressed them closer together. The eye contact became too much when paired with how close their bodies were, so Y/N tucked her head into his neck, breaking their eye contact. Morgan shifted the arm trapped underneath her to wrap it around her shoulders, and he pressed another gentle kiss to the side of her head. “This is nice,” he whispered into her hair. Y/N nodded in agreement, though it wasn’t necessarily easy to move her head. “You matter a lot to me, Y/N, and I’m here for anything you need no matter what, even if it’s just to cuddle.” 

Y/N smiled into Morgan’s neck and hugged him a little tighter. “Thanks, Morgan. I needed this.” They settled in after that, and Y/N fell asleep faster than she had in years. It was the first time in a long time she’d fallen asleep sober without overthinking her way into stress, and the weight of Morgan’s arm across her middle was more comforting than any weighted blanket could ever be. 

____________________________________________

Morgan woke the next morning in unfamiliar surroundings. It took him a second to register where he was and to remember how he got there, though he relaxed when he looked down and saw Y/N still cuddled into his chest. They were in the same position they’d fallen asleep in. Y/N must have felt him move, because she cuddled deeper into his chest with a sigh. He froze when she kissed his neck, and realized he was totally screwed. Holding her was becoming his favorite thing, and getting to see her totally relaxed was a treat. Their lazy Saturdays together were rare, and he planned to take full advantage of this one, at least until he had to go to morning skate.

Y/N must have sensed him staring, because she opened her eyes slowly and stiffened when she felt someone else in the bed. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he whispered softly, and she relaxed when she recognized his voice. Y/N smiled up at him sleepily, and she might as well have punched him in the stomach. 

“What time is it?” Y/N’s groan was muffled as she pressed her face back into his neck. “I’m just gonna stay here all day.” Morgan chuckled and squeezed her gently. “It’s about 8am,” he said through laughter, “and I don’t think staying here all day is an option.” Y/N groaned, and he laughed even harder. “Believe me, sweetheart, I’d stay here all day if I could, but I’ve got a game to play tonight.” 

She sighed and flopped onto her back. “Fine,” she grumbled, “but I’m getting up under protest.” Morgan struggled to fight the urge to lean over and kiss her. “How long do you have before you have to leave?” Y/N sat up slowly, not waiting for a response, and Morgan reached over to pulled her back into him. He cuddled her into his lap as he leaned on the headboard, and Y/N fell back into him like her body was made of jello. “You know, Morgan,” she said teasingly, “if you don’t stop being such a good cuddler I’m going to have to sleep with you every night.” Y/N froze after she spoke, like she realized what she’d said, and Morgan kissed her cheek. 

“At least let me take you out on a date first.” Y/N’s eyes widened after he spoke, and Morgan felt a little panicked. That was not at all how he’d intended for this conversation to go. Yeah, Hamilton had finally convinced him they needed to talk about their feelings, but maybe she wasn’t ready to. “Sorry, that came out wrong, I,” Y/N stopped him with a hand over his mouth. 

She looked at his face searchingly, and he tried not to panic too much the longer the silence continued. “You like me,” she stated. He nodded from under her hand, and she gave a small smile. “I like you.” Now it was Morgan’s turn to smile. So Hamilton was right, she was interested. “I’m going to kiss you now.” Y/N leaned forward slowly, giving him time to back up if he wanted to, so he surged forward and met her halfway. 

It was electric. It was also a little gross because they hadn’t gotten around to the whole tooth-brushing part of the morning, but Morgan barely noticed because finally he was kissing her. Y/N began to smile, and Morgan leaned back to look into her eyes. “So you like me, huh?” She laughed at Morgan’s statement, and pressed another kiss to his lips. He would never get tired of that feeling. 

“I do. But I need to brush my teeth before I kiss you again.” Morgan tried to catch her before she slipped out of the bed, but she was too fast. He groaned before standing as well, shuffling towards his own room. “Meet me in the kitchen,” Y/N yelled from her bathroom, and Morgan yelled back a response. Finally. He was having trouble relaxing his face enough to brush his teeth, smiling apparently the new permanent expression on his face. He had wanted to tell her last night, when he saw Dougie standing so closely and his hand settled on her hip, but then she had been so upset and it seemed like the wrong time to have a conversation like that. 

Y/N was already in the kitchen by the time he made it out of his room, and Morgan had a feeling she was making pancakes. She relaxed into him as he stepped in behind her, and a quick look at the ingredients she’d pulled out confirmed they were indeed eating pancakes for breakfast. Morgan pulled out his phone to play some music, settling on Y/N’s cooking playlist, the only one of her playlists he’d saved onto his own Spotify. It was a mix of old songs, ranging from Fleetwood Mac to Elton John to Louis Armstrong, and it was perfect music for dancing in the kitchen. 

My Girl began playing over the speakers, and Morgan tugged on Y/N’s hand. “Dance with me.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at Morgan, but she settled her other hand onto his shoulder. He spun her around the tiny kitchen, twirling her out and back in again, anything to make her laugh. She sang along to the song softly, and Morgan began loudly singing as well, exaggerating the words with twirls and tugs. He ended the song with a dip, and Y/N laughed out loud when he kissed her as he pulled her back up. “This is our song, you know.” Morgan brushed a bit of hair out of Y/N’s face as he spoke. “Remember back before Christmas when we had all the guys over for Taco Tuesday and we danced to this song? About halfway through I realized I was in love with you.”

Y/N reached up to cup Morgan’s cheek, and her eyes held so much love he could barely breathe. “I realized that same night,” she said, and his heart swelled. “Although I realized it later, when we were cleaning up together after everybody had left. It felt so domestic, and I realized I wanted more with you.” Morgan turned his head to kiss the palm of Y/N’s hand, and then slid his arms around her waist.

“We’ve really been on the same page since the beginning, eh?” He chuckled, and Y/N nodded slowly. 

“I’m really glad you didn’t turn out to be a weirdo,” Y/N responded. “I was really worried about having some asshole professional athlete living with me.” Morgan raised his eyebrows at her, and she hurriedly added, “not that anybody gave me the impression you would be, but I was a little worried anyway.” She pulled out of Morgan’s arms to finish making the pancake batter, and Morgan perched onto the kitchen counter to watch her cook. 

She seemed more relaxed, like their relationship was something that had been weighing on her. “Can I take you out on a real date tomorrow? Before we leave for the roadie?” Y/N poured the pancake batter into the pans before responding, and he started to sweat a little waiting for a response. 

Finally Y/N responded, looking up at him with a smile. “I’d really like that. Your commute to come get me won’t be too bad either,” she joked, and Morgan laughed. Before he could respond there was a knock at the door, and he hopped off the counter to open it. Kat stood on the other side looking a little nervous, which was highly unlike her. Morgan gestured for her to enter, and she shot him a grateful smile. Y/N bit her lip, and Morgan took that as a cue to leave. 

“It’s fine, Morgan,” Y/N called after him. “You don’t need to go anywhere.” He stopped, and Y/N turned back to Kat. “You were right, K, and we talked. Everything’s worked out, and I’m sorry for freaking out on you last night.” Kat looked between Morgan and Y/N intensely, and he could see her brain putting the pieces together.

Her face changed when it all finally clicked, and she surged forward to hug Y/N. “Fucking finally! We can double-date now! I’ve gotta go tell Andrei!” She hugged Y/N again quickly, and stopped to punch Morgan’s shoulder on the way out. “I’m expecting a lot from you tonight, you’ve gotta impress your girl.” She surged out of the apartment without another word, and Hurricane Kat was over as quickly as it had arrived. Y/N was still standing there looking mildly shell-shocked, and Morgan felt the same way.

“Well,” Y/N finally managed, “at least we won’t have to tell your team? Kat will take care of that for us.” Morgan met her eyes from across the room, and they both burst into laughter. 

“So your argument was about us, I’m assuming?” Y/N slowly got her laughter under control as she nodded. “She figured out I was into you,” Y/N said, “and we were arguing about me telling you. We’ve made her entire spring, just so you’re aware.” 

Of course the entire team had figured out they were into each other. The guys were probably taking bets on who would tell whom and when it would happen. It was going to be one hell of a morning skate. 

#nhl imagines #good idea ML #morgan rielly imagine #nhl imagine