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msbigredmachine · 7 months

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Sugar & The Chief - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

Reader is a best-selling erotic author reflecting on the success of her newest novel, which is based on her secret affair with the man who became her muse.

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x OC

Warning: A LOT of smut

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: I started this goddamn fic in late 2021! 😭 I'm so glad it's finally out. This one is a little different and I hope you enjoy!

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It took you approximately three years to finish it. At first, you didn't want to, because through the smoke of mirrors of the raunchy literature was hands down the most personal piece you’ve ever done. But your team insisted that you go through with it. Your publicist Sheree told you it was one of the best works she’s ever read. On top of that, the dividends from your last book were starting to dry up, so you didn’t have that much of a choice.

You finally relented, and soon after it was published, the novel exploded. Your rabid readers had been waiting impatiently for your next offering and they gobbled it up. Your face and the novel were all over social media, TV, magazines and even on the huge Times Square billboard just down the road from your multi-million dollar penthouse in the Upper East Side. It wasn’t long before you were doing interviews and signing autographs in bookstores, malls and libraries all around the country. You were scheduled to be in London, Paris and Madrid next month promoting the book. It was a comeback for the ages.

And you had him to thank for that.

Sugar & the Chief was an erotic tale about an intense love affair that ended in disaster. Critics viewed it as Fifty Shades of Grey with better writing and much better sex and found the protagonist, Erica, relatable and three-dimensional. Erica was an ambitious albeit mentally unstable escort in an illicit relationship with Roman, a married Hollywood superstar she codenamed ‘the Chief’. This wasn’t your bland Mills & Boon romance tale...This was so smutty and so nasty you couldn’t read the first few paragraphs without wanting to masturbate thanks to Roman and Erica’s graphic sexual antics. It was so detailed that some theorists believed the Chief was based on a real person. When asked about who ‘Roman’ was, you played him off as a completely fictional character. No one needed to know the true identity of your muse. But you were one hundred percent sure that if he read this book, he would know it was about him. After all, you had incorporated some real-life dialogue between you in the novel. Without a doubt, he would know. You wondered, not for the first time, what his thoughts were if he had indeed read it.

Your fans did not hesitate to relay their own thoughts. Tonight, you were busy reading quite a number of them. Sheree had collated readers’ reviews, emails and feedback and sent them to you for your entertainment. Each one had you smiling from ear to ear. Women from all walks of life gushed about Erica and Roman. Housewives, attorneys, college students, septuagenarians, book club members; all of them had something to say and you felt all warm and fuzzy inside to know you still had it, that the magic hadn’t left your pen yet. Of course, they all wanted to know who the Chief was. They were so impressed with how he fucked you, dominated you and yet doted on you…They all wanted a man like him.

They all love you so much, Leati…just like I loved you…love you…

Closing your MacBook, you stood up from your desk with a smile. You stared out the ceiling-to-floor window and kept sipping from your Olivia Pope-sized glass of red wine, sinking deeper into your thoughts.

Truth be told, you should have known better than to fall in love with Joe Anoa’i. Your first meeting all those years ago on a week-long vacation should have ended on the island between the soft rumpled sheets of his bed. What happened in Hawaii should have stayed in Hawaii. But then, you couldn’t stop gravitating to him and he couldn’t stop gravitating to you. You went running whenever he called and he came running whenever you called. It was wild, passionate, addicting, exciting…too good to last, really. And it wasn’t long before the fantasy came crumbling down.

So many factors came into play. The demands of his job as the face of WWE. The meteoric level of his fame. And then, his discovery of your coke habit, your discovery of his wife Nicole and his three children, your increasing jealousy, his decreasing interest in you. After five tempestuous years, your relationship came to a bitter end, and the difficult healing process put an end to the writer’s block you’d been suffering from for a while.

You missed him deeply, and wished the dull ache in your heart would go away. As morally questionable as it had all been, what you experienced with him needed to happen to every woman at least once in her lifetime - indulging in forbidden fruit and all the delicious things that came with it; the danger, the thrill of secrecy, the earth-shattering sex, the emotions of love, lust, possession, and of course, the inevitable pain and heartbreak…

You captured all of that in Sugar.

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Chapter 22

Erica pushed the button, shuddering out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. The elevator doors clunked closed and the cables began to whir. She ascended, floor by floor. Light goosebumps littered over her arms as she was filled with a morbid mix of dread and anticipation.

Their big fight from three weeks ago kept playing over and over in her head like some kind of evil loop. He didn't want to leave Gaelle for her and she'd taken her frustrations out on him. However, after what she'd just discovered, he was going to have to change his mind. Because of him, she had broken the ultimate rule in this treacherous line of work. This little game between them has been turned on its head, and tonight was the last time she would play by his rules.

The door opened before she knocked, and she felt her pussy purr involuntarily as they locked eyes. That big, sexy ass body of his leaned against the doorframe, his huge arms crossed over his equally huge chest. His dampened long hair flowed past his shoulders, and he smelled fresh, like he'd just had a shower. It didn't matter how long they'd been apart for; he always took her breath away every time she saw him.

"Well? You gon' stand there or you comin' in?" he sassed, that smooth country-boy drawl of his making her body temperature rise. Shaking it off, she walked through the door, right past him and into the open layout of his new, lavish penthouse, the night lights illuminating her brown skin through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

"Nice place," she commented, looking around with mild interest. He had found another hideaway where he could fuck around behind his wife's back. It didn't matter, because Gaelle was never going to leave him no matter what he did and he knew it. She could feel him trailing behind her, his bare feet moving catlike and silent on the cool hardwood floor. He had a prescence like no other, that was why he was the biggest movie star in the world today. And you so happened to be the mistress of the biggest movie star in the world today.

"Champagne?" he offered.

"No, I'm fine," she answered, her crossed arms pushing up her already generous cleavage. Roman's gaze longingly raked over the A-line trench coat concealing her curves, traveling down to the sinful looking high heels adorning her feet. Her hair fell in luscious, tempting waves down her shoulders. A deliberate move, surely, as she knew he loved her hairstyles down. His dick hardened as he imagined bending her over, pulling her tresses and spanking that fat, juicy ass of hers as he pounded--

"I'm not stayin' long, so talk." Her statement yanked him out of his lurid daydream.

"You got all dressed up for me, beautiful," he asked, scanning her up and down again.

"Not everything's about you, Roman," she scoffed.

Not her giving him more lip. He would do something about that later. "I called you a buncha times last week but you didn't pick up. You left my texts on read," he accused with narrowed eyes. "You ignored me."

Erica tilted her chin, her stance defiant. "And why does that surprise you?"

He raised an eyebrow at her biting response and chuckled at her audacity. Sugar was quite the firecracker and honestly, he couldn't get enough. Walking towards her, he smirked as he caught on to her struggle to keep her eyes on him and not on his thick dick print, clear as day in his gray sweatpants. He reached out and rubbed her arm with his hand before tugging her closer to him.

"Sweetheart, don't ever ignore me again. Especially when you know that pussy belongs to me."

"Does it? Funny, I thought I was 'just another pricey whore'. Did you forget you said that to me?"

He rolled his eyes with a huff. "Sometimes I say shit I don't mean, baby girl, you know how it is."

Taken aback by his dismissive, nonchalant attitude, she yanked her arm away. "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? After everything we've been through? That shit was foul as fuck!" she said incredulously.

"I know. That's why I texted you to come over so I could apologize in person, but you refused to answer me. I hate it when you shut me out, Erica."

"You shut me out, too! For weeks! And now that you're bored you summon me like I'm your fuckin' toy. I am not your toy, Roman! I don't give a damn that you're a Hollywood star, there's plenty of other A-listers out there who will take care of me and not treat me like shit."

"And yet, you come back to me every time," he pointed out, the smug curl of his lip just as panty-wetting as the rest of him. "None of your other clients take care of you like I do, make you feel the way I do. That's why you dropped 'em all, for me."

Erica started to retort but stopped herself, realizing that this was in fact, the truth. But she'd be damned if she let him have the last laugh. "Ya know what? This was a mistake. I should go. I had something to tell you but I dunno why I even bothered to come here."

She turned around but he grabbed her before she could go far, drawing her back to him. Seeing her getting worked up always seemed to fuel his desire for her. The angrier she was, the hotter the sex, and he was horny as fuck for her right now.

"Look at you, gettin' all riled up," he drawled, his tone tinged with amusement. "I love it when you're mad, that shit turns me on, baby."

This man was as infuriating as he was sexy. "Fuck you! Everything is a joke to you!"

"This feel like a joke right here?" he demanded, snatching her hand and pressing it against his throbbing length. The little whimper she let out as she cupped him sealed her fate.

"Feel that? Feel what you do to me?" His voice was rough and needy, matching the look in his eyes. "I need you, Erica. It's been weeks and I've been goin' fuckin' crazy without you."

"Go home to your wife, then," she bit back with a lot less conviction than she aimed for. The pull was much too strong, quite literally too as he wrapped both arms around her slender waist, his face nuzzling her neck and making her hiss as his soft beard tickled her skin.

"She don't make me feel like you do." His voice was needy and almost pathetic as his mouth pressed her throat. "Let me make it up to you, baby. I wanna kiss you. Can I kiss you?" His tongue was warm, his breath hot and heavy on her skin, and her arousal flared against her will.

"Roman..."

"Come on, baby, kiss me," he murmured, his lips sliding over hers. It was a slow but deliberate assault, and Erica felt her body yield as a soft gasp escaped from her. She sagged against him, gripping his shoulders for balance as their mouths smacked oh so sensually together. Fuck, she missed this, missed his delicious kisses and his assured touch as he grabbed her round, fleshy ass, kneading and caressing in his hands and pressing himself harder against her.

Roman growled softly as he released her mouth, his tongue snaking out to lick his lips as his eyes flitted down to her chest. "Take your clothes off," he commanded.

Wordlessly, Erica's hands slid over the leather belt on her waist to slowly unbuckle it. Then, she opened up her coat, eased it off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground, leaving her in nothing, absolutely nothing, but her heels. Roman's darkened orbs blazed to an onyx black as they scanned her naked body, drinking in every smooth, delicate, voluptuous curve. Grabbing her by the waist, he backed her up against the nearest wall, his hardened dick straining against her exposed center. A shiver ran through her as he crashed his mouth back to hers, his huge hand squeezing her throat briefly before tracing the valley between her breasts, and she finally let go of the groan she was holding back as his hand came in contact with the intimate spot between her thighs.

"Damn..." he smirked as he found nothing but wetness, pushing his palm against the slick mound and sliding his fingers along her slit. She moaned in response, her hands gripping his tattooed bicep as his thick finger pushed into her, her pussy quivering around the digit as he thrust it at a maddeningly steady pace.

"Mmm-hmm you like this, don't you baby?" he said, nipping at her bottom lip, coaxing yet another moan from the back of her throat as he slipped a second finger home with deep, languid thrusts. She whimpered helplessly, her vision blurring as her walls dripped and tightened around the invading digits. Her forehead dropped onto his chest, battling to hold on to her sanity. "Fuck..."

Buoyed by her whines and soft cries, he pumped his fingers more earnestly, hissing softly when her walls rippled around them again, signaling her end. "You 'boutta come already, huh? I told you this my pussy. Squeeze my fingers Erica, come for me."

Damn him and his ability to control her with just his touch. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her shout of pleasure came from somewhere inside her soul as she spasmed uncontrollably. She could hear his triumphant snicker as her juices flooded his fingers, brushing his mouth against hers as she leaned into him to regain her tenuous balance. He scooped the round, soft flesh of her breast into his eager palm, with his other hand leaving her pussy to suck her juices, humming pleasantly at the familiar sweet taste.

"Remember what I told you in my text?" he breathed, his gaze trained expectantly on her.

"Mm-hmm."

"Tell me," he insisted, now massaging both her breasts. "Tell me what I said to you. I made you a promise. What was it?"

Erica fought through the thick haze of passion to recall his exact words from the raunchy text message. "You promised to make me come at least three times before we ever make it to the bed," she recounted.

Roman smiled smugly, satisfied with her response. "Uh huh. And Daddy always keeps his promises, don't he? That was the first. Two more to go. Now, let me show you around my new crib."

He showed her around, alright. First, on the plush sectional in the living room area, with her on her back and her head hanging off the edge as he slowly thrust his dick in and out of her mouth. She let his groans wash over her as her jaw relaxed to take more of his intimidating length down her throat. Even upside down, her gag reflex was superb, so each time he thrust inside her, her tongue lapped at the base of his cock, soaking his balls with her spit. Willing to give as much as he was receiving, he leaned forward and rubbed her clit in quick circular motions, making her moan around his cock with the vibrations causing his neck to extend, looking up to the ceiling as pleasure licked his spine.

"Unnnh fuck, suck my dick, take it all down your throat, baby," he encouraged her, sliding his other hand over her breast and toying with her nipple, all while fucking her face. His knees weakened at the sight of his length bulging her throat, she always knew how to take him well. "Shit, Sugar, you look so fuckin' hot like this..."

Erica moaned again through her stuffed throat, waves of heat washing over her as her pussy pulsated beneath the pleasure of his long thick fingers. In all her time under the bright lights and the seedy bowels of Hollywood, she had never been captivated by any one human being. Until him. Their escort-client relationship had long since grown into something more. She had given up on resisting him and let him do anything he wanted to her in bed. But tonight she craved some semblance of control, and this time, his famed charms would not stop her from getting it.

Pushing him away so he slipped out of her mouth, she sat up straight and tugged him onto the massive couch with her. Straddling his hips as he sat up, she placed one hand on his barrel-like shoulder while using the other to curl her fingers around his pulsing dick. He groaned and bucked his hips as she flicked the head of his dick along her slit just to torture him a little. Then guided him against her opening and slid down.

The moment felt heavy and tense, like a tightly twined coil as her wetness opened up for him. At the end of her slow descent, she stopped to adjust to all the emotions and sensations wracking both their bodies. Unconsciously rocking her hips into him, she gasped as the pressure immediately started to build. Their hands and mouths were all over each other. Roman ran his hands up and down her back, rubbed her tits, squeezed her ass. Erica raked her nails over his nipples, sucked on his neck, bit his shoulder. Fuck, it felt so damn good already. Ass rested comfortably on his thighs, chest to naked chest with his dick lodged inside her, it was clear they were not going to last very long.

Leaning back slightly on her other hand placed on his thigh, she began to ride him. Slow and steady at first, making him absorb every drop of her ass, every crevice, every sensation. The lust and pleasure consumed them both, their mouths colliding with hot, sloppy kisses, her moans pitching higher as the tension thickened. His own groans grew heavier and gruffer, his hands leaving her hips to slide underneath her ass and lift her up and down. Exquisite torture, with his strong grip on her making her wet pussy take every inch of him. The angles of his upward thrusts as he bounced her on his dick had her making noises like a bitch in heat. He was so snug and warm and deep inside her, it was as though she could feel him in her soul.

"Oh my fuckin' god," she half-groaned, half-cried, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his neck as he bounced her even harder. Up, down, up, down. His dick stretched her walls, his fingers deep into her ass cheeks enough to leave a bruise or two. The dizzying sensations spiraled her into another orgasm, and she sat all the way down on his dick and rolled her ass desperately, literally riding out her nut. She couldn't stop herself from biting into his sweaty, salty skin as she came, making the big man growl in reaction and smack her ass hard.

"That's your second nut," he declared.

He flipped her onto her back, still deep inside her. He looked down at her with hungry, blown pupils, letting his hands dance along the meat of her thighs and her calves. Throwing her legs onto his shoulders, he leaned forwards, folding her in two as he fucked her into the couch. Her hands clawed the back of his head only for him to grab them and pin them above her head. The sweat clung to their skins as he steeled his thighs and grinded himself into her wet heat, his face lowering to suck both of her nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around each peaked bud. Her groans snowballed with his groans as he drove his dick impossibly deep inside her with primal intensity. When she managed to speak, her voice was unrecognizable. "Oh fuck, I'm coming," she moaned hoarsely, her toes curling behind his head as she exploded again, "Oh my god, Roman, ohhh..."

"I'm 'bout to come too, don't fuckin' move," he panted, holding her down to piston his hips and pound into her. Erica basked in the sound of his tortured groan when his big body tensed up and she felt him pour into her warm confines, his hips stuttering as he found sweet release.

"Got you to three quicker than I expected," he said when he caught his breath, kissing her cheek. "We just gettin' started, baby. I'ma remind you why this pussy is mine."

He gave her an up close and personal view of the city's remarkable skyline, her breasts crushed against the glass window as his juicy lips ravaged her from behind. She could only imagine how she looked right now. Her legs wide, ass spread open, her battered pussy wet and swollen and pulsing for more of his oral onslaught. Nobody ate her out the way he did, with so much passion, covering all the bases, her clit, her inner lips, and even her asshole. The warmth of his breath had her walls clenching as he licked and sucked and kissed everywhere, painting her slickness with his spit. The relief she felt as he finally detached his mouth from her center and got off his knees was replaced with his heavy cock tapping her pussy lips before breaching her entrance with the thick girth. Each thrust dragged her sensitive nipples across the cool, hard surface of the glass, but Erica was so lost in the moment that she didn't care.

"Mmmph, fuck me, baby, fuck my pussy," she exhaled another pining moan, her nails scraping against the glass where he had ordered her to place her hands. Her mouth fell open when he slapped her backside, that deliciously dangerous dick of his pounding into her in full view of the bright lights of Los Angeles. His dick slid in deeper and deeper, his hips circling each time he was buried inside her, making her knees buckle as her climax inched ever closer. She tried to speak again, but words failed her, reducing her to a whimpering, shivering mess as her pussy clenched greedily around his dick. Roman merely chuckled arrogantly, reveling in his handiwork.

"You sound so fuckin' sexy, baby girl, keep moaning for me like that," he purred, his hands clamped on her shapely hips to make her take his lethal strokes. He was a man on a mission, punishing her for assuming she had any sort of control over him. Tears sprang to her eyes as he slowed down his thrusts, his pelvis mashed up against her soft backside as his cock worked inside the sensitive walls of her pussy with a more tender rhythm. He filled her with stroke after long stroke, making them both moan as she squirted all over him this time, her orgasm breaking her into a million pieces.

He showed her the stripper pole next to his bed. He had it installed specially for her, he said, so she could show off her elite lap dancing skills for him and him alone. Watching that itty-bitty waist and all that ass bounce on his dick like her rent was due would be the end of him; He couldn't resist massaging the soft cheeks in his palm, one after the other as she gyrated back and forth on him like a professional.

"Uh huh, go off, baby, pop that pussy on my dick," he drawled from his spot on the pouf he lounged on, his sturdy thighs spread wide apart to give her all the space she needed to ride and grind while she held onto the pole for balance. He watched the streaks of his cum trickle down her gyrating ass, and it made for quite the visual, slapping against the mixture of her juices smothered over his groin. He rubbed in the remnants of his seed on her cheeks, biting his lip as the skin glistened and made her big booty look even bigger. "Mmm, damn baby, this pussy so good, I should throw a dollar at your fine ass..."

"Fuck!" Erica had the pole in a death grip as yet another orgasm rocked her body. She had to get off his dick because she was shaking so hard. The tremors had her mewling pitifully as she bent over, gifting him with the sight of her pink pussy quivering as her cum ran down her inner thighs.

"Get back down here," Roman ordered, smacking her leg and then her ass as he stroked his dick in his hand, "You ain't done. Sit your ass back down on this dick."

He'd been wanting to break in his new California king bed since it'd been installed, so it was apt that he was breaking her back in it. He had her on her stomach, her asshole stuffed with a purple-colored butt plug as he stuffed her pussy with his hard, long cock. She moaned and gasped beneath him, clutching the comforter with her fists as he fucked her like a savage, her plump ass trapped in his possessive grasp.

"Daddyyyyy..." Her moan was loud and long and desperate. It became too much. Roman's dick seemed to double in size inside her and both her holes felt too full to the point of another explosion. A sob tore from her chest.

"Why you cryin'? Huh?" He slapped her ass. "Don't cry. You wanted this dick. Ain't that why you came over? Daddy told you to come and you listened like a good bitch, Daddy's sexy ass bitch. Come here." He hiked her hips higher to force a deeper, more painful arch in her back, and rammed his dick into her sweet spot over and over, demolishing her pussy. Too spent to throw her ass back, she could only lay there and take it, and her eyes squeezed shut, certain she was about to pass out from pleasure.

A big square mirror stretched across the ceiling directly above the bed. His hand slithered into her hair, tugging her head back, almost hyperextending her neck to make her look up. Her mouth dropped open in a moan as she watched that big thick shaft glide in and out of her, the soft skin of her ass rippling against the smacks of his pelvis. Just the sight of him and her together in such an erotic moment had her leaking again, soaking the silk sheets on the bed. He was fucking her so good. She hadn't come this hard and this many times in a long, long time.

Sitting back on his heels, he brought her off the bed and flush against him, assaulting her neck with his hot mouth. "You make me so fuckin' crazy, Erica. Don't nobody else make me lose control like this," he whispered, his grip tightening around her throat as the other hand gripped her breast, making her whimper. "Love this pussy so fuckin' much. You love this dick, baby?"

"Yes Daddy, I love it, I love you," she choked out.

"Mm-hmm, I love you too, baby. You gon' make me come all up inside you, girl," he grunted, his brain growing fuzzier as his end neared. He wrapped her up in his big arms, engulfing her with his heat, lavishing her panting mouth with tongue kisses as his hips rocked upwards, teasing her g-spot. Erica found enough strength to rock with him, grinding back against him, the lovers moving together in the most intimate, sensual dance. Roman groaned with pleasure when he felt her incredibly tight pussy pulling on his cock. It was almost difficult for him to continue thrusting inside of her, but her warm slickness eased the way for him. His hand left her breast and slid down her sweat-slick body to play with her clit, dragging her weak body over the edge.

"Unnnnhhhh..." Erica moaned out, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. Roman moaned with her, his soft lips trailing wet, frenzied kisses along her throat as his balls tightened, craving fresh release. "Come, baby girl, come for Daddy," he whispered shakily.

His wish was her command. Her body went limp as she detonated one more time, creaming all over his dick in the process. Roman let his head fall forward, his groan muffled against her throat as he came hard, smearing his warm cum all up in her walls. Erica murmured incoherently as she felt him pulse inside of her, giving her everything he had like he always did. When it was all over, he grabbed hold of her hair and planted yet another searing kiss on her lips, before releasing her to collapse on the mattress. Admiring her thoroughly fucked disposition, he massaged her backside tenderly before slowly easing the plug out of her, watching her wince from the pain. Running a hand over the back of her head, he brought her face to face with his groin. "Suck all this shit off my cock," he ordered.

Erica licked her lips at the sight of his thick member, semi-erect and slathered in a milky cocktail of her juices and his semen. Grasping it obediently, she lowered her mouth onto it, moaning softly at the taste of herself on him. Roman looked on with a bite of his lip, stroking her hair as she licked him clean. Afterwards, he lay on his side and pulled her into his chest. Erica sighed happily as he kissed her gently, soothing all her pain away. This feeling right here was the reason she could never let him go. Their connection was too deep, too special. No man had ever made her feel like this and she didn't want to lose it; the high of having him, the euphoria of belonging to him. It was why she was willing to quit today, right now even, and start a new life with him. She needed him to be with her forever, and she wasn't sure she was going to take no for an answer this time.

After what she was about to tell him, she doubted he would say no...not when the life they had created together was done out of the love they shared.

"Baby?" she whispered softly to him, watching him closely.

"Hmm?" Lying flat on his back, his eyes were shut and he was in a state of complete relaxation.

"Look at me," she said, waiting for him to meet her eyes before speaking. She needed him to understand the words coming out of her mouth.

"Roman, I'm pregnant, and the baby is yours."

End of Chapter 22

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Erica's unexpected declaration spelled the beginning of the end of her relationship with Roman. His behavior took a complete 180, having security drag her out of his new apartment, denying all ties to her unborn child and cutting off all communication with her. A distraught Erica terrorized him, stalking his family, poisoning his wife Gaelle and getting him fired from a lucrative film project. It all came to a head when Erica took Gaelle hostage in Roman's vacation home where he had fled to escape her rampage. She forced him at gunpoint to have sex with her in his marital bed while his wife watched, but died when he deliberately strangled her in the middle of her orgasm. It also turned out that Erica was never pregnant, and the positive test she'd shown Roman belonged to her friend and fellow escort, Tiffany. Erica's story made headline news all around the world. It was an incredibly shocking end and it worked well with the dramatic plot of the story.

You were glad for the artistic license, and though what really happened with you was less chaotic, it was not any less heart wrenching. You never even got to break the news to Joe. In fact, he was gone from your bed before the crack of dawn, vanished like a thief in the night. Never returned your calls or messages until three days later, when you received a text message from him that put your heart in a blender.

Nicole and I have decided to work things out. For good this time. I hope you understand. Thanks for always being there for me. Take care of yourself. ❤

How you recovered from that blow, you would never know. How you dug yourself out of the hole of darkness he dumped you in was still a mystery to you sometimes. It really was a testament to your mental strength, because not many people would have survived the unimaginable pain he inflicted on you. The sinister side of you wished you had been brave enough to do exactly what Erica did, to take out your rage on him and make him hurt like he hurt you. But instead you redirected that energy to your work, pouring every second of your anguish into the book. It took a long time for you to get to this point of fulfillment and success in your life, and the book had been your therapy. Now, you were at least making good money from your pain and it softened the blow a little bit.

When you thought about Joe these days, it wasn't with as much resentment. It seemed he had a few problems of his own anyway, as his beloved Nicole was reportedly threatening to upgrade their separation to a divorce and take his kids with her. How the tables turned. Nonetheless, you wished him the best. You still had love for him. You would always miss him. He changed your life, and there was no doubt that you would forever carry him with what was left of your heart.

"Mama?"

You heard her little voice before you heard the shuffle of her tiny feet. Quickly placing the wine glass in the sink, you turned as the love of your life came into view, her favorite blanket dragging behind her as she searched the room for you.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping, little lady?" you asked, fighting back a big smile to look as serious as possible. She was in her "I wanna stay up late" phase and you couldn't afford to fold, not this time at least.

Her little dual Afro puffs jiggled as she rubbed her hand over her eyes, "Come sweep with me, Mama," she pleaded, staring up at you with her big, expressive brown eyes and a pout that was the spitting image of her famous father. She was starting to look so much like him.

Your heart swelled as she padded over to you with her arms outstretched. You lifted her up and held her small body tightly, absorbing her innocence and unconditional love. She smelled so fresh and delicate, like roses, sunshine and baby powder. Her scent has filled your life with joy and purpose since the day you brought her into this world two years ago.

And to think you had almost taken those pills to snuff out this beautiful life in a fleeting moment of weakness. Now, you would give your own life to protect hers without question. Always.

"Okay, kiddo, let's get you back to bed," you cooed softly, kissing her chubby cheek.

"Read me a stowy, Mama?"

"Of course, baby."

As you retreated to your daughter's bedroom, your phone vibrated beside your MacBook. Three letters you had not seen in years flashed on the Home Screen, cutting through the empty room and calling out to you.

❤️Joe❤️

THE END

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Alternate Sugar & The Chief book cover

Please leave feedback/comments. I appreciate them as they help me improve my writing.

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disasterarea-podcast · 6 months

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Okay, I know I probably don’t need to explain this to all of you, but also I want to talk to *somebody* about how I wish I had the sort of pull that would let me see “Society of the Snow” before it ends up on @netflix on January 4th.

“Alive” came out when I was in high school. I was a sophomore, I think? I just know I watched it a bunch for historical reasons (disaster! Survival! Struggle!) and superficial reasons (I was sixteen and Ethan Hawke was in danger!). It was on HBO a lot back then. Or it felt that way, because I watched it every time it came on.

As per usual, I watched the movie, so I went and got the book. (I have an Audible credit, so I’m preordering the audiobook of “Society of the Snow” for work. It comes out in a couple of days, FYI.) The movie is … sanitized, to say the least. They can’t avoid the eating of the dead, or showing it on occasion. But in real life, the situation was more blatant, because … well, who are you going to hide it from? They ate everything else, or at least tried to, before resorting to the dead. And then when they did resort to the dead, they ate it ALL.

The thing is, Uruguayan culture was heavy on beef. “Alive” (the book) describes it the way the Irish depended on potatoes. Eating the dead was difficult, but as Catholics they were able to talk it out and tie it into the rosary and taking the body and blood of Christ into their own. I’m not even a Catholic anymore, but I think even my latent Catholic training might kick in just a tad to help reassure me in a situation like that if I had doubts. (Note: I have been doing this podcast for WAY too long. Survival cannibalism wouldn’t even make me bat an eye at this point.)

My point is that in the real situation, the survivors used everything. And I mean everything. There were only three or four parts of the body they couldn’t eat - I think the genitals were on that list, but don’t quote me on it - but the rest? They picked the bodies clean. They needed to. There’s a photo of the survivors sitting outside the plane, hanging out, smiling for the camera. It’s usually edited. Everything else is kept, but what is usually clipped or blurred is a very clear shot of a human spine, not a spot of meat left on it, just … lying there. It might as well be an airplane seat, or a discarded jacket, or any of the other items scattered about.

I have a tremendous amount of respect for every single one of the people who went through that ordeal. The details are traumatizing enough without having lived through it. Every time somebody makes a “rugby players eat their dead” joke, I cringe.

So here I am sitting watching “Alive” again, because fuck it. The thing is, I have a fondness for this movie based a lot on high school and watching it lots and it introducing me to a survival story I’d never heard of. But I would always be the first to point out I’d love a redo. It’s not as accurate as it could be, it’s in English, it misses out on things like Carlitos Paez’s father searching for him and the others the whole damn time and the reception after they came back.

I’m hoping “Society of the Snow” has all of the things the first movie lacked. I want to see the reception when they came back. I can’t wait to see Carlitos playing his dad, and I hope we get that moment where he reads the list of survivors over the radio and his voice breaks when he gets to his son’s name. I hope we get the reality of survival cannibalism — that it’s not murder, that it’s not pretty, that you might get a little blinded to the horror of the reality.

The trailers for “Society of the Snow” gives me hope it does the story the justice it deserves. There are so many disaster stories that, while they may have gotten TV movies, I would love to see done for the big screen. Hillsborough. The Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire. The Galveston Hurricane. The Johnstown flood. But honestly, the trailers for “Society of the Snow” look gorgeous and respectful. Let’s do more movies like this for more disasters.

#tw cannibalism #tw survival cannibalism #society of the snow #if Netflix needs someone to come up with ideas for movies about real-life disasters I am THERE

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spacefinch · 7 months

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Rating TNG Characters based on how I’d handle being home alone with them

Picard: Good for a nice quiet afternoon. I imagine he’d just spend all day reading whatever book he’s currently working his way through. I would probably also be reading. And of course, it wouldn't be a proper visit without some "tea, Earl Grey, hot."

Riker: It is party time. This could mean a number of things: Watching a movie, going to a hamburger joint and then frozen yogurt “just because”, or just hanging out. When we’re not doing the aforementioned, we’re listening to jazz music.

Deanna: I try to tell her I’m not interested in a “girls’ day,” but she quickly wins me over. Not only does she make “girly” things like shopping and hair and nail painting fun, she also takes me to get ice cream (which we eat while watching a cheesy movie). By the time she has to leave, she’s ensured that my family won’t run out of dessert for the next two months.

Tasha: I would LOVE hanging out with her, no questions asked. At home, we’d probably play games or something, but it’s more likely we’d be on an outing. There’s not a lot of talking that goes on. I try not to ask about her past, since it’s clearly a sensitive subject for her. Instead, we talk about things like our favorite animals, or how the weekend went.

Data: Another crew member I would love to hang out with. Before going home, we make a quick (translation: 2 hour) stop at the library, during which Data signs up for a library card. Most of our conversations are just back-and-forth infodumping. Further benefits: help with homework (especially math and music), and getting to pet Spot. (He definitely brings Spot over.)

Geordi: 90% of our time together is spent geeking out over various stuff. The rest of the time is spent doing stuff like building model airplanes and listening to radio dramas. However, I do not get to bed until almost 2 AM because neither one of us has a healthy sleep schedule.

Worf: Another “not a whole lot of talking” situation. He tries his best to make some sort of traditional Klingon dish, but the kitchen is a disaster afterwards. I try a tiny bit of the food just to be polite, but it’s not my favorite and I decide to just have leftover pasta. The rest of the evening is spent trying to get the kitchen back in order before my parents come home.

Beverly: Definitely the mom friend. She doesn’t let me watch TV until I get my homework done, but she does help me with said homework. Afterwards, though, we watch a recording of a Broadway musical together. Or if it works out, she takes me to see a play in person.

Wesley: In this situation, it is I who is the responsible adult. Nothing productive happens, unless you count “spent the whole day playing video games, showing each other memes, and doing questionable science experiments” as productive. We try to cook dinner, but it doesn’t go very well and we just end up ordering pizza and eating it while watching a movie.

Q: No. Absolutely not. Besides, he would rather be harassing Captain Picard and company. He does try to intrude on my read-a-thon with Picard, though.

Guianan: She’s not the one hanging out at my house, I’m at her house. Or at her restaurant. She’s very nice to me and has plenty of advice regarding my concerns about navigating social life. I would be honored to hear what wisdom she has to offer me.

#star trek #star trek tng #headcanons #captain picard #will riker #deanna troi #data soong #tasha yar #geordi la forge #beverly crusher #wesley crusher #worf #q #guianan star trek

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bella-rose29 · 3 months

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deep analysis of a very obscure thing in lockwood and co (bc why not)

Omg ok (spoilers for episodes 2 and 3 of lockwood and co, and also the books)

So the song that plays when Lucy is holding the ring in episode 2, during the experiment, that she says is Annabel Ward and her lover’s song (“it’s their song”), is Peer Gynt Suite No. 2: Solveig’s Song.

The version I listened to that made me go “oh okay this is the same song” (after playing it through my earphones in one ear and playing the episode in the other and desperately trying to get the timings to match up to see if there were differences in the singing) is by Edvard Grieg — Yvonne Kenny, The Melbourne Symphony Orchestra & Vladimir Kamirski. From what I could work out, the song starts in the episode from just before the singing starts.

The story behind the song is as follows:

"The long-suffering Solveig is devoted to Peer and she sings the song just as he – once more – abandons her. As she sits at the spinning wheel, she sings that although the years may pass she knows that he will come back to her – and that he will find her waiting for him, just as she promised.”

Lyrics:

Perhaps both winter and spring will pass by And next summer and the whole year will expire But surely you will return to me, I am certain And I shall be waiting as I once promised.

May god give you strength, wherever in the world you may go May god give you joy, if you before his footstool stand Here I shall wait until you come back And if you wait above, we’ll meet there again, my friend.

I did an initial analysis and stuff and then did further research, so I’ve rejigged the document I had before to make more sense here :D

Story of the whole play:

The title character, Peer Gynt, is based on a Norwegian folk hero who is a rogue and will be destroyed unless saved by the love of a woman.

He is described as a lazy and arrogant peasant youth who leaves home to go in search of his fortune. He’s very confident that he’ll succeed, but he keeps having disasters on his journey.

At one point, he goes to the wedding of a wealthy young woman (that he might have married), where he meets Solveig. She falls in love with him, so naturally his first thought is to abduct the bride from her own wedding and abandon Solveig.

Then he has really cool and awesome adventures, going around the world and gaining wealth and fame from all his different exploits, but he is, at the middle of it all, deeply unhappy. Eventually, when he is old and disillusioned, he goes back to Norway, where Solveig awaits him, welcoming him home and redeeming him.

Annabel and John Fairfax are sort of foils to Solveig and Peer respectively, in that they are what happens as a result of a different kind of abandonment (Annabel’s murder).

Solveig is what Annabel would have been had she stayed alive and Fairfax had simply broken things off in a more traditional sense (i.e. if he hadn’t killed her), and while Peer is redeemed and saved by the love of a woman, Fairfax is destroyed by it, because he twisted the love into hate.

Now for the parallels between Fairfax and Peer:

Peer is a peasant with little success in life -> in episode 3, as they get off the train, Lockwood notes how Fairfax “came from nothing”.

Peer has a series of unfortunate disasters on his hunt for success -> Fairfax (in the books), before the Problem, spent his time drinking, gambling, and getting into show business, instead of going into the family business. In the show this does not seem to be the case, but it’s a nice parallel that includes the books!

Peer abandons Solveig to run off with the bride -> I interpreted this as Fairfax abandoning (murdering) Annabel for his own bride, which is his desire for success. In a way his bride is the Fairfax iron company, because he’s practically married to it.

After the abduction, Peer has really successful and fantastical adventures, very different to the disasters that he had previously experienced before the kidnapping -> after Annabel, Lockwood again (Lucy says he has a hard-on for Fairfax which I think is hilarious) in episode 3 (just before talking about how Fairfax came form nothing) notes that Fairfax “succeeded in everything he’s tried. Publishing, show business - he didn’t even start smelting until he was in his thirties. Now look at him”. Fairfax by his own admission also worked in casinos, adding another job (or adventure) to his list.

Peer gains wealth and fame -> Fairfax gains wealth and fame (just dropping in “miss Kingston got her hair done special” because I love it and it's vaguely related)

And this is where the similarities split off from one another:

Peer is deeply unhappy -> Fairfax seems to be perfectly fine with his situation.

Peer comes back home old and disillusioned -> Fairfax in a way comes home, as he ends up back in Combe Carey Hall (although this is not where Annabel was killed, it is still one of his properties), and he is old, but he is not disillusioned. He says in episode 3 that he doesn’t regret buying the ring, he regrets “leaving it behind when I bricked her into that chimney” and that he “knew it was monstrous. But I couldn’t throw my whole life away for one mistake. Not then, not now.” He still isn’t willing to give up his life, because he is perfectly content where he is.

The final parallel I want to note is between Annabel and Solveig. While one was murdered and the other neglected but still devoted and in love, both women wait for their old lover. In completely different ways, sure, because one is sitting at her spinning wheel hoping that he’ll come back and see that she’s the right one for him (cue “you belong with me”) and the other is bricked into a chimney as an angry Type Two ghost that kills people, but both are waiting.

“She’s been wanting to see you for a very… long time, Mr Fairfax” Lucy says.

Annabel is devoted to Fairfax, and as she dances and sings along to the song, he abandons her (kills her). while waiting in that cavity in the wall, and her spirit is bound to the ring/necklace, she is waiting for him.

We see in episode 3 that when Lucy lets Annabel out of the ring, throwing it in the air to set her ghost free, Annabel doesn't attack the agents, or even Ellie who is stood nearby.

She goes straight for Fairfax, because she's been waiting for him. Her devotion to him may have changed into devotion for revenge over the years, but she was waiting for him nonetheless. In a way he did come back to her, even if it was unintentionally, and he ended up being greeted by her one last time.

He is not saved by coming home and finding his version of Solveig, he is instead destroyed, because his version of Solveig was killed along with any love she might have had for him.

#I spent hours on this and I'm not even sorry #if anyone has anything to add or correct me on then please let me know!#belle says stuff #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #episode 2 - Let Go of Me #episode 3 - Doubt Thou the Stars #Annabel Ward #John Fairfax

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redfoxwritesstuff · 2 months

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Sunflower, Book 1, Chapter 19

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: E Chapter warnings: Flashback- I'm still blueballing you on the smut, it's just getting worse this week. The flashback is sexy but hardly crossing to rated M AN: Special gift for a reader having a bad day- Bonus chapter. This will be the last of the bonus chapters though since running two series at the same time is a bit demanding (and a self made hell). We get to learn a bit about Sally's dad! Also, Mia's baking is wholly based on my attempt to make the same for my sister on a time crunch. My centers didn't set though! I love step dad Tom. Masterlist Kofi

~~~~~<3

Mia felt silly banishing Tom to bedtime duty as she quickly whipped egg yolks and sugar. She was rushing and knew that was a recipe for disaster but she didn’t want to give herself a second to chicken out.

She hadn’t know what to expect having Tom back and so she hadn’t planned a fancy dinner or a night out. He was scheduled to be in late so it didn’t seem like it would have mattered anyway, she would have had to have been quick to get Sally back home and to sleep.

Tom showing up significantly earlier was a huge weight off her shoulders logistically. She wasn’t very good at being a wife yet, she didn’t even know how to be a girlfriend very well but she wanted to show him her gratitude.

Ray, Sally’s father, had been her last real relationship and the only things he cared about were booze, gambling or sex. If she wanted to thank him, it had to be with one of those three things if not all three.

Tom was like no man she had ever known though and she didn’t know how to show him her gratitude. The best she could come up with was to make the fanciest thing she could think of.

Would it stack up to the vase of flowers on the counter in front of her? She sure as hell hoped so. Doubt ate at her as she mixed the whipped sugar and egg yolks into the hot cream.

This was a terrible idea.

It was by far, the worst idea she had had since agreeing to stay married.

She saw that body- there was no way in hell he ate things like this. He probably would rather a bowl of fruit or something. On the other hand, she had seen the foods he had ordered when they had gone out to eat.

Again and again she went back and forth on the quality of the idea as Tom crossed the hall from the bathroom with Sally on his back. Giggles filled the apartment and god did it sound good.

As Mia was filling the two small dishes with the mixture, Tom was leaning against the wall by Sally’s bedroom door. “Having fun?” Mia called to him.

“Oddly enough, yes.” His chuckle made her smile. She couldn’t help it, it was just such a unique sound.

~~~~~<3

Mia listened to Tom’s voice reading story after story while she willed the mixt o bake faster. She had managed to get the custards out of the oven before he had finished reading the tenth story. Maybe it was the twelfth?

Who knows anymore? That little girl had Tom wrapped around her finger. Hopefully it would last. This game they were playing, this gamble on forever with a stranger could have shattering results on that little girl.

Fuck, they were being so selfish trying.

Cooling the dishes was the most high stakes gambling she had done in at least a year. Okay, maybe staying married was up there too. If she cooled the water bath too quickly, they would shatter. But she needed them cooled to finish setting.

She didn’t have an extra so she was fucked if one shattered. It felt like she had melted her fingertips off handling the little containers but she got them cooled. The centers had a little more jiggle that she would have liked but she could only hope they would finish setting in the freezer while they finished cooling.

Mia plopped them in the freezer as Tom starting Fox in Socks. She would have to tell him to limit Sally’s stories eventually so that kid would get to sleep at a decent time but for now she couldn’t bring herself to. Sally hadn’t had a father figure in her life in years and she couldn’t stop her from indulging in it at the moment.

Plus, she needed all the extra time she could to finish this stupid ass dessert.

~~~~~<3

Mia didn’t have many fancy kitchen trinkets or tools but the one thing she was rather proud of was her kitchen torch. It wasn’t the big fancy ones that burned propane like on the cooking shows but it was good enough.

Mia toasted the spoonful of sugar she put on each custard as she listened to Tom say goodnight for the fourth time. Maybe it was the sixth time?

He was so good with Sally. Someday, some woman was going to make him into a really good father.

It occurred to her that she could be that woman. If things worked out between them during this year, she could be the woman that made him a father. In a way though, hadn’t she already made him a father over night? The thought was so shocking to her that she nearly burned her finger when she forgot to turn the custard.

Finally, after over an hour bedtime routine that Mia would have accomplished in fifteen minutes, Tom closed Sally’s bedroom door behind him.

“You escaped the clutches of the small child, congratulations!” Mia cheered.

“It was a long, well fought battle but with dedication, I did come out victorious.” Tom made his way toward her, “What are you making now?”

“It’s nothing.” Mia said, setting the torch down and looking intently down at the quickly hardening sugar topped custard. “Is she asleep?”

“Out like a light. She’s a lovely little girl.”

Mia laughed, “Give it a few weeks and you’ll probably be running for the hills.”

Tom protested and Mia conceded that Sally was indeed a good kid. She was the kind of kid that made people think they could have kids as she sent him to go sit down anywhere but where she was working.

While she watched melted sugar solidify, she also watched Tom as he lounged on the couch. His long legs stretched from one end to the other and he had a book in his hand. She couldn’t see what he was reading but she knew it was something she probably wouldn’t read.

She could see the top of the book, his long feet poking over the arm of the couch and the top of his head and little else. It was a view she liked though she couldn’t explain why. He looked like he belonged there, lounging on the admittedly too small couch.

She should have just sucked it up and got a better couch form somewhere that didn’t require her own assembly.

It was almost nine at night. This time a week ago she was just starting to get really drunk. Over the last two weeks, she had tried hard to remember what had happened but all she could come up with was the bar in the resort she worked out and sitting next to a handsome man who purchased her a drink. And then another.

It seemed pretty safe to assume that man was Tom, though. It had been a wild two weeks. She had fought, argued, gave in and everything in between. This had been two weeks that had changed her life in so many ways already and it was thanks to that man reading on her couch (their couch) alone.

Tapping a spoon against the disk of sugar atop the custards, she found them solid. Crème brûlée was the only really impressive thing Mia thought she could make. It was also something she had an almost total ban on ordering at a restaurant on principle alone. It was offensively easy to make but disturbingly bad for you.

The ceramic ramekins clanked onto the small dining table. Mia stared down at them for a moment and gathered every ounce of courage she could. Tom had again and again shown a good faith effort to build a relationship with her and she had not made it easy.

This last week she had fought him on almost every effort than got upset when he got busy and distant. She needed to make an effort too. He deserved her making an effort.

If she wanted this to have any chance of becoming something real, something more, then she needed to invest in it too.

“Okay.” Mia took one last deep breath. “You can look.”

Tom sat up quickly, tossing the book he had been reading on the couch and swinging his legs to the ground. He was up and eagerly making his way to the table as if he had really just been itching for the word.

“What have you been up to?” Tom was clearly excited.

Mia picked up one of the ramekins and held it out to Tom. “Happy two week anniversary.” After a pause, she started to panic. “I don’t know if you like these. Or if you can eat them. Or, whatever. I don’t know. It’s fine if you don’t-”

“You made creme brûlée for us?” Tom was shocked. “Out of what?”

“It’s not healthy, that’s all you need to know.”

Tom laughed that laugh that was oh so unique to him. “But you just had the stuff to make creme brûlée? Just sitting around casually?”

“Do you like-”

“Of course.” Tom took a seat at the table and tapped the spoon against the glass like disk of solid sugar.

“I wasn’t sure if you could have something like that.” Stop talking. She hated how words left her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. Awkward word vomit fueled by every insecurity she had ever had.

“What do you mean?” Tom cracked the sugar top with a solid whack of his spoon.

“I just-”

Tom scooped a spoonful of custard up, being sure to grab some of the shattered sugar before glancing up at her. He watched her intently as he ate the first bite. Vanilla exploded in his mouth, carried on a current of rich custard. Delicate sugar shards gave the custard texture and carried their own caramel taste along with a touch of bitterness.The center of the custard was just slightly warm still but mercifully, Mia saw that it was set.

“Something you watched or read got into your head. I can always eat dessert, even if I can’t. I would rather put in more work than not eat a sweet. And this is delicious darling. Happy two week anniversary.”

~~~~~<3 ~~~~~<3

Tom flipped her so that she was on her back and he hovered above her. Gripping the fabric of the dress, he carelessly yanked at it as he stood up, pulling it harshly down her body.

The dress caught on her hips though. Tom hadn’t ripped it far enough down for it to slip past her waist. Tom didn’t know if the dress was designed to go on from above or if the maze of fastenings simply extended far below where he had torn but he didn’t care.

Leaning down, he placed soft kisses between her breasts and down her stomach as he grabbed fistfuls of the dress again. With a great effort, he ripped the dress further down. As soon as he had the slack to do so, he pulled the dress down her body and threw it on the ground behind him.

Her panties were plain, simple and not what one would expect to find under a wedding dress. They hadn’t stopped long enough to worry about shopping for such things.

Standing over her, he started to work his buttons free after yanking his tie down until it was hanging loose, nearly undone. She was sprawled out before him, naked breasts on full display for his hungry eyes.

He enjoyed the view. There were little scars and marks on her body showing a life well lived. She had marks where her body and grown quickly at one point. Her belly curved and swelled ever so slightly, soft and inviting to the touch.

Growing impatient, she leaned up and eagerly assisted with the buttons on his shirt. The way her breasts moved with her body was mesmerizing, distracting to him. His fingers yearned to touch them instead of the buttons of his shirt. He all but ripped the shirt off as soon as it was sagging around his body, eager to feel her flesh against his.

~~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrr @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72 @soulpiercing @evedia

#tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x original character #Tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x reader

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cheemscakecat · 3 months

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Missing in Action 8

Chapter 8: Battle Plan

Pauling is finally let in on the situation. Spy has his first battle as a member of Team Fortress.

TW: Heavy Angst

It was finally time to tell Ms Pauling about Spy. If the team had been dragging their heels before, his phone call lit a fire under them. They knew it would send off the civilian alarm, and get him in trouble for mentioning mercenaries. Anyone who called home, friends, or lovers needed to register them in the company phone book, so the civilian alert wouldn’t go off. Then they’d know when there was an actual breach instead of false alarms. Of course Scout hasn’t registered his pathetic brothers, but that was understandable.

Medic couldn’t help but notice how dead on her feet Pauling looked. She’d always been inclined to stay awake and work, but the Admin role was a massive adjustment. In a way he was glad they had decided to wait so long to tell her, so she could focus on her other new responsibilities. Helen was a special kind of evil for not training her, if not telling her she would be the successor.

———-

Pauling kept thinking about what she said to Scout. Ever since she snapped at him, all his phone calls with her had been different. He didn’t light up when he heard or saw her; he’d have trouble looking at her and act reserved.

He didn’t try to crack jokes or hype himself up, he just let her talk and then answered concisely and calmly. She never thought she’d miss his incessant flirting and yapping. But she was getting worried about him. He’d never sounded like this before, just like he’d never sounded as angry as when he confronted Spy.

She was worried about both of them, actually. She wished she never sent Spy to Harvest Base alone. Maybe if she had just waited until multiple mercs had work there, so they could watch each other’s backs. Or just let Harvest base be left behind instead of insisting they gather all of their things.

Of course they had enemies. Of course he shouldn’t have been alone on a four day trip trying to load all of his furniture and belongings into that sports car. And she hadn’t thought of any of it.

There was good news from Fortress; Spy was still alive. Alive and not being tortured somewhere for information, and that was a huge relief. But there was a problem; he wasn’t the right age. They needed to hunt down that old wizard Merasmus to undo the de-aging spell.

The other major issue was that they hadn’t told Scout out of fear that he’d confront his amnesiac father and get even more upset. And they wanted her to play along until they could get Merasmus and the cure. She could’ve commanded them to be honest, she was the Admin now.

But none of them had ever heard Scout get that angry before. Angry enough that his voice got dangerous and he wouldn’t try to hear Spy out. She didn’t know any better than them when it came to the consequences of telling Scout that Spy was back. They couldn’t afford to risk a disaster on the hope that Scout would understand the situation.

“We need to play dumb for now. Let me induct Spy into the team so he and Scout don’t get suspicious.” Engineer and Demoman went to get Spy. The rest went to distract Scout with team chores so he wouldn’t walk in. They needed to lie about the year and Pauling being Helen if the subject came up.

——————-

Truth be told, Ms Pauling had never pictured Spy as anything other than an older, wiser merc with good advice. Besides the fact that she’d never had a reason to, he was one of those people where you feel like he’s always been a certain way.

She was quite surprised when a 23 year old Spy with very long black hair was walked into the meeting room. She was, of course, meeting over the big computer and praying he wouldn’t question the advanced technology. He would think it was like 1946, and they needed to keep him away from newspapers and town to keep it that way.

That kind of hairstyle was for hippie and biker men, and that was by 1970 standards. She wondered what sort of reaction he got from pruny old people in the 40s, walking around like that. She almost wished Helen was still around to tell her, not that she would.

He didn't try to act flirty, but she assumed that was because he thought she was Helen. And Helen was not the kind of person you try that on. She hoped he hadn’t seen her before, or this would all fall apart.

“Forgive me for saying so, Ms Administrator, but you look younger than I expected from your powerful voice.” Pauling mustered her best Helen impression and crossed her fingers. “No offense taken. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” Pauling could swear that Spy’s butlerly bow in response was too stiff, like he was being fake nice. But she was overanalyzing everything and disregarded it. He was on a slightly jittery screen after all.

“I am sorry to cause such a misfortune for Frigidus and Fortress. It is a busy time here, a bad time for me to interrupt.” He wasn’t meeting her gaze and there was a hardness in his voice that she assumed was her own paranoia. He put a bit of emphasis on the word misfortune.

“Well, these things happen. I’m signing you on as Team Fortress’s Spy, since theirs decided to disappear. Once we find him, he’ll be relocated to Frigidus.” Spy went quiet. “Thank you. This team has been very kind, and I will make this relocation a gift to them as intended.” Didn’t the others say that Spy was usually speaking broken English? That must be why his tone sounded wrong, he just wasn’t an expert at the language and was putting his effort into grammar.

“As for the helicopter crash, I will investigate the cause. We can’t have mercenaries up and dying due to negligence.”

Demoman could swear Spy was staring lasers into the table so he wouldn't glare up at Pauling. In fact, he sounded like he had thinly veiled anger boiling under the surface. He had assumed it was just his scrumpy buzz playing tricks on him until Pauling mentioned the crash. Spy looked positively livid, and reminded him of Scout in the airship. But why?

“Thank you for your concern Ms Administrator. And the wonderful opportunity.” All at once Spy put on such a happy, naive face and tone that Demoman shuddered. No, this was forced. Something was very, very wrong. He was glad they were talking to Pauling and not the old sea witch Helen. And he hoped this hadn’t happened in the past when Helen would have been the one answering him. Pauling signed off, unaware of just how strange Spy was acting.

——————-

Pauling was giving a separate phone briefing to Scout. He’d been racking up kills but running into Demoman bombs more often instead of checking for them, so she told him to target Demomen until he killed 30.

She still didn’t know how she’d balance hunting the wizard and all her duties to RED and BLU. It wasn’t like Helen left a handbook. Everything was out of balance, and she really hoped her tone of voice with Scout wasn’t critical or mean. At least he was making a lot of progress.

“I’ll get on that right away. Hey, um… Ms Pauling?” “Yes?” “I know you been busy, and uh, Medic said you looked like ya needed a break.” Was he.. about to flirt? Was she really assuming that again?! “Maybe some Engineers could build ya a set of robots to play that uh.. G&G game with ya. And make em save yer game when you got work to do, so ya don’t have’ta worry about taking a real long break.”

Nobody had even mentioned Gargoyles and Gravel since Helen hid from Grey Mann. She’d almost forgotten about her favorite game entirely. “That’s a very good idea, there’s been Engineers looking for extra work.. things that they could show to civilians and not look suspicious. Thank you, Scout.”

After the call ended, Pauling was stricken by how simple the solution was. She could plan as Admin using the same strategies as a Gargoyles and Gravel dungeon master. In fact, those robots could help her do rough simulations so she wouldn’t make critical mistakes! And she never would have thought of it if Scout hadn’t reminded her about the game.

Once again, he wasn’t just an idiot trying to flirt. He also wasn’t when he helped her dodge the bread monster… and she ignored all the hints he was giving her. Complaining about him wasting her one day off even though she used it for work anyway. There was something very sad about that, and she found that she couldn’t shake it off.

She hadn’t cried over Helen; she wanted to but she also resented the old woman and refused to be sad over her. She hadn’t cried over how she snapped at Scout either… but she couldn’t help it now. She’d always been awful to him, never saying he wasn’t her type or anything similar to keep him from hoping. She’d always made excuses and ignored most of his hints and flirting. Shushed him over the phone.

And now he was wised up and acting totally different around her. She imagined it took guts to try and propose the game robot idea when she could snap at him again. Maybe she couldn’t help the fact that she wasn’t into him, but she could have handled him with respect. Seen him as more than an idiot this whole time. She had a rather long cry over it.

————————

Scout ran into battle with the half-hearted goal of killing Demomen without triggering traps. This particular BLU Demoman was a notorious resource thief; he took all the ammo and medkits that he could carry, and anything off the field that he thought was valuable. Jeremy got over his “medkit hogging” phase real quick when he faced this loser. It also helped that their Medic was bat**** insane and not to be toyed with.

A cardboard box next to him moved, and he pointed his scattergun and darted back. New Spy peered out of the handle hole and winked at him, then hid his face so the box would look normal.

Thief Demoman rounded the corner and threw a bomb at Scout. Unlike their more productive and smart Demoman, this guy could not hold alcohol well, and his aim was always off. The bomb stuck to Scout’s scattergun, and he chucked it over the ledge. It should have hit him in the face or belly, and that was a mistake he could take advantage of.

Eh-V-dent-Lee, Spy agreed. He made a chattering squeaky noise like those big, ugly New York sewer rats that Jeremy had seen growing up. The Demoman backed up and looked around the ground with bleary eyes. Spy shuffled around in the box to make himself sound like he was a big *** rat trying to get out.

Like good old Elmer Fudd, BLU Demoman crept back up and pointed his bomb-gun’s barrel at the edge of the cardboard. Spy then sprang up and kicked the man’s legs out from under him. It happened real quick, and thief Demoman was too drunk to understand what happened.

New Spy hurried and crouched back down just behind him, so he’d reach for the box to pull himself back up. As soon as he did, he got headbutted from an angle, and Spy kicked the bomb-gun over the same ledge.

Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh, especially when the new guy’s long legs were sticking out from under the box and doing a goofy tap-dance around the angry fallen Demoman.

When he got up eyes blazing, Spy easily dodged his attempted lunge. He bent over -still under the box- and pointed his revolver through his own long legs, shooting Demo in the back with perfect accuracy. Scout finished the job with his pistol.

——————-

Back at base, the team took the security camera feed and added Thief Demoman’s defeat to their movie reel of funny takedowns. Scout wasn’t the only one who loved it, and they talked about it late into the night, even after Spy excused himself to go to bed. Jeremy couldn't wait to see what other tricks the new guy had up his sleeve.

——————-

Antoine imagined that the pretty, innocent looking young thing on the screen was a body double or assistant. The Administrator’s way of playing sweet and disarming. He knew better.

That Helicopter crash was no accident. She was investigating why it had failed to kill him. And now he was stationed very far away from both the Frigidus team and his family. He hoped she only intended to keep him from seeing the so-called investigation.

He stared at the cardboard box in the old Spy’s smoking room. The old man would probably die too, from how annoyed the fake Admin acted about his disappearance. But he couldn’t tell the rest of the team, then they would know too much. Hell, if he was a double agent, he might have won Admin’s favor and be enjoying the benefits instead.

Antoine would not and could not use the telephone. It was either tapped by Admin or her desert Spy, and the room probably had many cameras. He could not call Merriam, even just to check up on her.

He missed her so much. He missed Jeremy too, and found himself crushing the cardboard in frustration. If they were okay, it was because he had left in time. He prayed that they were. The best thing he could do now would be to play dumb and let himself get assassinated, so his family and team would be unknowing and unharmed.

They could not know the truth. He had to pretend not to be smart enough to know the Admin’s treachery.

Antoine sighed and went to the old Spy’s kitchen. He made a charcuterie board and drank a lot of strong wine. Uncountable cigarettes were used up by the time his nerves were steeled and he could make himself go to bed. He would need to do this often if he was to pretend to be happy and stupid.

#tf2 #dadspy #tf2 spy #tf2 scout #angst fanfic #sad lad hours #ms pauling

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anartificialsatellite · 5 months

Text

So I can't play a lot of video games because anything 3D where the camera moves around a lot with the player character makes me very motion sick pretty quickly. I used to be able to play these sorts of games, but as I've gotten older it's gotten worse and I haven't been able to for a few years now. (I thought finally getting glasses would fix it and it does kind of help, but not enough.) This sucks because it does mean that I miss out on a lot of games, but it also has forced me to broaden my horizons and try games I might not have found otherwise.

One of the places where this becomes more of a problem for me is the horror/thriller genres - I think there's especially a tendency to rely on 3D first and third person perspective (and especially first person) in games that are meant to be scary or creepy or whathaveyou, because when you limit the player's field of view it's not difficult to make them feel trapped and uneasy, and it lends itself well to jumpscares.

...Which makes it all the more impressive, imo, when a game that doesn't use that still succeeds at building that sort of atmosphere and immersion. So!

Here's three of my favorite scary/spooky/creepy atmospheric games without a 3D first or third person perspective:

The Excavation of Hob's Barrow

This point-and-click adventure game has 2D pixel graphics, an excellent soundtrack, and a fascinating and compelling folk horror mystery at its center. Antiquarian Thomasina Bateman travels to an isolated English town on the moors to pursue research for her book on the barrows of England, and (as one usually does in this genre) discovers something strange and sinister lurking beneath the surface. I finished this game in about 2 sessions, by which I mean I've got 10 hours of playtime on it and the only reason it wasn't one session was because I had to stop and do normal human things. (I found this game because I'm a fan of one of the publisher's other titles, The Shivah, a kind of weird and super short detective style adventure game whose main character is a bitter, depressed rabbi, and I really recommend that one as well.)

Oxenfree

Not really horror, I guess, but definitely a supernatural thriller? We'll go with that. Another adventure game, this time one where your choices affect the story. The main character is Alex, a teenage girl who, along with some friends and some non-friends, is spending the night on an island that was once home to an old military base. Using a radio, you unintentionally open a portal and find yourself facing the supernatural effects of a decades old naval disaster. The art is gorgeous, the music is absolutely tits, and there's some really cool gameplay mechanics, as well. I'm also a sucker for spooky radio shit, so when I came across this game I was all over it.

It's got a sequel, Oxenfree II: LOST SIGNALS, which is a similar style game set on a nearby island some time after the events of the first game, and I also super recommend that one, too.

FAITH

I'll start with a caveat for this one: I've only played Chapter 1, because when I first bought and played it that was the only part that was out. I can't speak for any of the rest of this game, and annoyingly, it looks like you can't buy Chapter 1 by itself anymore.

In this retro-styled game you play as a priest returning to the site of a failed exorcism, so if demonic posession and that kind of Catholic religious horror isn't your bag this game probably won't be either, but even as someone who is not Christian, I super enjoyed it. It features 8-bit graphics that remind me of Atari and some old DOS adventure games I haven't played in almost two decades, as well as some truly creepy rotoscoped pixel art. The sound is just as old school as the art and is used to deeply unsettling effect, and I was continuously impressed by how the dev managed to make such a creepy game in this style.

If you've got any others, please share them with me! I absolutely love this kind of thing and am always happy to add more to my "to play" list.

#video games #horror games #the excavation of hob's barrow #oxenfree #faith the unholy trinity #please share your faves with me if you have them i love scary game and i hate throwing up so this is an ongoing search for me

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colleendoran · 10 months

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Hiii, the playing cards in the loot boxis a whole deck??

Hi, thanks for asking.

You need to direct this sort of question to the people actually running the show, which is not me. I am the artist who sits in a little room and draws pictures, and figures out how to fit a 400 page novel into 200 pages of graphic novel.

If I were actually running this Kickstarter, it would be a disaster of such proportions, I cannot even tell you.

Here's a few of the people who know more than I do because I prefer not to know, and just want to concentrate on the art, and also, some of them are my bosses.

Tumblr: @goodomenshq

Twitter: @goodomenshq @pratchettonline @terryandrob

Instagram: @goodomens_hq @pratchettonline

The Good Omens graphic novel is being published by DUNMANIFESTIN, the publishing arm of the Terry Pratchett estate. There are marketing people, design people, business people running the show. I bet they know how to balance checkbooks.

#good omens graphic novel #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #good omens #wahoo

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queenshelby · 1 year

Text

Blue Eyes Blues (Part Four)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 4,879

Warning: Smut, Cheating, 20 Year Age Gap (all in later parts)

Notes: This plays shortly after Cillian finished filming Oppenheimer and is not based on Cillian’s real life.

Please comment and engage!

Over the past few days and the entire weekend, you thought about him. You thought about Cillian and the kiss you shared which was more passionate than any other kiss you ever had before.

Even with Kurt, you would not have been at it for so long. He did not kiss you with such passion and contentment. He would not kiss you until your lips were firey red and sore and he would not kiss you with such abundance.

Perhaps he kissed his secretary like this, but not you. In fact, he never kissed you with any passion at all and the way you felt for Kurt these days was different too. He was not like a lover to you. He was more like an acquaintance and this made you terribly sad.

You were married to this man but were falling in love with another. You never thought that you would be this kind of woman one day but here you were. You cheated. This simple kiss was a mistake and yet, it felt right and so incredibly good.

Of course, you tried hard to forget about the kiss you shared with Cillian, but you could not. You thought about it all the time and dreaded seeing him again on Monday at school drop off.

By this point, you had already texted him and cancelled your upcoming tutoring session. But this was not because of him or the moment of intimacy you shared. You had a gig that same night, playing a two-hour set at a local bar. You explained to this to him when you cancelled but wondered whether he thought that you were trying to avoid him now after what happened between you. It would have been the obvious conclusion for him.

And, the truth was, you did want to avoid him, but not because you did not want to see him. You wanted to spend time with him but you knew exactly how dangerous this could be. You knew that, if he was close to you again, you would not be able to resist him and make the same mistake again. You had this primal urge to be with him and this was something which concerned you.

Unbeknownst to you however, Cillian felt the same way about you. He struggled to forget about the passionate kiss you shared and his desire for you had grown to the point at which he could not deny his need for you. You consumed his mind and his every thought and, even when he was intimate with his fiancée, thoughts about you creeped into his head.

Cillian even thought about you when he slept with her and this was problematic especially when, on Sunday night, your name fell from his lips instead of hers. He called your fucking name, eyes shut and mouth gaping while it was her who was on top of him. It was a disaster and resulted in the biggest fight they ever had. Lorraine was furious and, whilst Cillian blamed tiredness and his recent interactions with you at school for his mishap, she knew that this was utter nonsense.

She knew that he must have been thinking about you while he made love to her. His eyes gave it away. They were closed for the most part of it and even when they fluttered open, he did not look at her. His eyes were empty, starring into a void. He was clearly consumed by his imagination and thoughts. Thoughts about you! You! Another woman!

But even so, after having met you at the gallery a few weeks ago, she did not think that you would be any competition for her. In her mind, you had nothing going for you. You were bland, shy and somewhat nerdy. So why would he be interested in you, if had her?

Monday

Monday morning came around quickly and your husband informed you that he would not be attending your gig on Friday night. According to him, he had to spend some more time in the US, attending a convention in Miami and, whilst he had planned to return before the weekend, he now extended his stay. Eventually though, you found out that he booked airplane tickets for both him and his secretary and this bothered you even more.

If this was not already bad enough, Kurt also told you that he wanted to refurbish his office and asked you to meet with the interior designer about it in his absence. According to him, he was simply too busy for things like this and, also according to him, you were not.

In his mind, you were just a teacher and life was simpler for you whereas, the truth was, that you, too, had enough on your plate already and did not need the additional stress of looking after his office space plans.

But, in the end, arguing with him was not worth your while, so you agreed to help him refurbish his office. Since money was no object for you, you engaged an interior designer for the task and made an appointment with the furniture company on Wednesday morning.

Tuesday

On Tuesday morning, your husband left the house with a large suitcase in tow and whilst you were pretending that nothing was wrong, you knew yourself that there was.

You had a terrible feeling about all this, about everything and stripped off the bedsheets in a haste. For some reason, you could sense the other woman on them. Her scent was everywhere and even though she had never laid in your bed, she clearly left a mark on Kurt. He was smelling of her and so were your bedsheets.

Then, after a quick clean up at home and before the start of school you went to your local doctor to do what had to be done.

You now knew for sure that your husband was cheating on you. It was something you did not want to be true, but it was. It was your reality now and you knew that you had to get tested for STDs. You were not stupid and realised that this secretary may not have been the only woman he had been with throughout the past six years and, thus, you brought up the topic with your doctor who also happened to be a friend of yours.

Her name was Susan and Susan had just graduated from medical school, thus offering you a long consultation free of charge. When you were in her office, you were in tears, telling her about everything Kurt had done to you and whilst you were grateful that she listened to you, you were also rather embarrassed by it.

Of course, Susan told you that you should be filing for divorce but you knew that this was not the right way. Not now, while Mia was in therapy. Your parents adored Kurt and Mia had known him for all her life. Leaving him, could be disastrous for her even if he had spent rarely any time with her. He was not great at being a father to her but he also was not a terrible substitute either. He did not love her, but he did care for her in his very own way. He considered her to be family and this was all that mattered to you.

“I will have the test results back on Thursday, Love. Do not stress, alright!” Susan reassured you after, eventually, you told her that you had to get to work. You were already an hour late and Mia was attending before school care. It was almost 9 o’clock and your first class was starting soon.

Unfortunatly for you, when you got to school, another surprise was waiting for you when you saw Cillian’s car being parked right next to your mother’s BMW.

Usually, he would have dropped off his daughters by now but, since they were both away on camp with Mia the day before, you figured that, perhaps, he was late. Often, following an excursion, children could get overly tired and this was not really surprising you thought.

When you saw the girls however, you realised that they were not accompanied by their father and, instead, they were accompanied by woman who you met only once before, at the gallery.

It was Cillian’s fiancée Lorraine and, as usual, she was dressed impeccably. She looked even prettier than on the night you have met her and you were somewhat perplexed as to why he had even kissed you if he could be with someone like her. She was stunning and immensely beautiful.

‘Y/N, look what we got this morning’ Ava eventually said loudly as she and Eloise came running towards you, holding up a donut of some sort and thereby awakening you from your daydreams.

‘Donuts for breakfast? Gosh you are lucky’ you smiled while Cillian’s fiancée approached you. Clearly, this was not Cillian’s doing. He would not give his daughters doughnuts to eat in the morning and you figured that his love interest was probably too lazy to make them a sandwich.

After Lorraine approached you, she began to assess you carefully before, finally, greeting you with a sharply spoken observation.

‘Y/N, right?’ she said. ‘I vaguely remember your name from when we met a few weeks ago. Life just gets so busy sometimes and I am terrible with faces’ she said with some sarcasm in her voice and when you attempted to shake her hand, she acted rather withdrawn.

‘That is right Lorraine. It is nice to meet you again’ you said politely while she was still assessing you. She was clearly amused by your outfit as, that day, you wore a plain cotton dress and a pair of flats, all black. Your hair was put up in a bun and you did not bother with make up or jewellery that day. You carried a handbag from H&M and a cotton bag filled with books whereas she was dressed in an expensive dress, Chanel flats and carried a Prada handbag.

‘Likewise’ she said while still starring at you as if she had seen a ghost. ‘Gosh it is late though. You must apologise but I have to go. I am meeting with our wedding planner this morning. Cilly and I are getting married in three months and I haven’t even organised the flowers yet’ she said as if she was trying to purposely point out to you that Cillian was taken. He was hers and she was marking her territory.

‘Oh, three months, huh? That’s exciting’ you said shyly in response, not knowing what else to say to her.

‘It is exciting’ Lorraine confirmed before saying something else to you, which took you by surprise. ‘Cillian proposed last year, when I was pregnant and, perhaps, we can try again after we get married’ she then said which you thought was a little too much information from her part.

‘No doubt the girls would love a little sister or brother to play with’ you told her nonetheless, trying to be nice to her but this is when she snapped.

‘Are you doing this on purpose?’ she then asked but you had no idea what she was referring to.

‘Do I do what on purpose?’ you thus enquired.

‘Being so awfully nice to me’ Lorraine explained. ‘So that I won’t notice that you have been hitting on my fiancé’ she then blurted out, causing your chin to drop.

‘Excuse me?’ you asked, but she interrupted you.

‘You heard me’ she spat, cutting you off mid-sentence. ‘And I need you to stay the fuck away from him. Understood?’ she then blurted out while Ava and Eloise were listening in. They were both gobsmacked and so were you.

‘Did you just say the F…word?’ Ava then asked innocently before Eloise spoke up.

‘Fuck is a swearword, you know!’ she pointed out and you knew that you had to intervene.

‘And what do we do with swearwords Eloise?’ you asked her gently and she blushed.

‘We do not repeat them. Sorry Miss Y/N’ she responded and you nodded with a smile.

‘Good! Now go to class you two. I will be in shortly’ you instructed which is when Lorraine spoke up again.

‘I do not want you to spend time with my fiancé or his children’ she then said just after the twins walked away.

‘He would not be interested in someone like you., so don’t flatter yourself’ Lorraine went on to say before telling you that you are probably beneath Cillian’s interests anyway. According to her, you were no match for him nor would you be able to compete with her.

‘You are a teacher and that the girls like you is lovely but Cillian does not. He probably just takes pity on you because he is a nice guy and that is what he does’ she went on to say and you were grateful for the fact that Cillian’s daughters did no longer had to listen to this.

In your mind, and deep down inside, you wanted to smack her for what she said to you. Or perhaps even rub in to her face that you kissed him and he returned the favour. But, you remained polite. This was your place of employment and you were treating on a fine line.

Wednesday

The following day, you took some time off from work. It was a mental health day for you and with all that was going on in your life, you well and truly deserved it.

Your mother knew about your recent discoveries and told you that, sometimes, things like this did not matter. According to her, you made a commitment to Kurt and since he was a valuable employee in your father’s company, you should not throw your marriage away over a silly affair.

Unfortunatly for you, however, you could not stop thinking about the fact that your marriage was in shambles while you were looking at another man. You wondered what the point was in all of this and when you went to Kurt’s place of employment to meet with the designer form the furniture company, matters became even worse for you when you made yet another stark discovery.

Clearly, everyone knew about the affair and you got one glare after another when you walked through your father’s law firm. It was embarrassing to say the least and you purposely avoided talking to as many people as possible.

Thus, you entered Kurt’s office as quickly as you could and pulled down the blinds. You did not want to look at her desk or belongings which were scattered around the area right in front of his office and, instead, you needed to focus on clearing out Kurt’s desk.

This was big mistake however. Clearing out his desk was a mission of its own. He was horribly disorganised and after you pulled out the stationary from the first two draws, you opened the third draw and were met with a surprise.

There was a booklet inside, attached to which was a card for a clinic downtown which specialised in medical abortions.

This was when your heart sank and you realised that, at some point, the woman your husband was sleeping with had been pregnant.

A few tears shot to your eyes and you crumbled to the floor. Knowing that your husband had gotten another woman pregnant disgusted you and it was only when the removalists came that you told them to simply leave everything as it was.

There was no work needed here. If he wanted to refurbish his goddamn office, he could it by himself.

Thursday

After yesterday’s shock discovery and having cried about the situation for most of the day, you took yet another day of stress leave and, whilst your mother became rather frustrated with you about your lack of respect for the workplace, you shut her off.

You needed to be on your own for the day. You needed to think and you most certainly needed to see a lawyer to discuss your options.

Thus, following your visit to Susan’s office who told you that you were perfectly healthy expect for some low iron levels, you made an appointment with a solicitor in the north east of Dublin.

He was able to see you right away and outlined to you that a divorce would mean many things. You were reasonably well off after having inherited a large sum of money from your grandparents. The house you were living in was also yours and had been gifted to you by your parents after you adopted Mia.

‘He would be entitled to half’ the solicitor pointed out which would mean that you would have to move out as there was no way you could afford to pay him out.

In addition to this, you were informed that you had to be separated for two years first before the divorce could be finalised. There was no such thing as a fault divorce in Ireland and, with that being the case, Kurt could even request visitation rights for Mia, including overnight care and this, too, was something you wanted to avoid as Kurt was not capable of looking after Mia overnight.

There was much to consider and you knew that you would need to crunch some numbers to work it all out.

Friday

Finally, Friday had arrived and whilst you were still worried about what to do with your marriage, you decided to put your intrusive thoughts aside and concentrate on work as well as your upcoming gig.

Music was your outlet and you most definitely loved to perform.

Your mother had offered to look after Mia for the night and whilst you were nervous about her sleeping anywhere else, you agreed to it nonetheless.

You needed to go out occasionally and do something for yourself. This was your opportunity. It was time you had reserved just for you, doing what you loved.

Thus, after work and a quick lie down which, on a Friday afternoon was a luxury for you, you got ready for the show. You tuned your guitar, put on a pair of jeans, matched by black converses and a black t-shirt.

Then, you straightened your hair and put on some make-up. Just a little bit, to look nice.

As usual, you did not wear any jewellery expect for a small pair of earrings and your wedding ring which you felt like tossing into the bin by this point. But of course, you did not and after putting on a jacket, you started walking to the nearby bar at which you were performing.

To your surprise, the bar was crowded when you arrived. There were at least 100 people there to listen to you perform. It was intense and, after the first hour of your gig, it was becoming even busier.

Now, there were at least 130 or 140 patrons listening to your tunes which, for a small venue like this, was impressive.

The room was beautifully appointed and you usually enjoyed your gigs there but, tonight, your mind was still somewhere else. One part of it was with your husband Kurt and the horrible things he had done to you in the past few months whereas the other part of your mind was with Cillian, the man whom you had kissed so passionately just a week ago.

Even after seven days, the taste of his lips still lingered on yours which was probably just imagination. You could not get him out of your mind and when, after your first set, you scanned the room, you were rather surprised to see him in the crowd.

Had he been there the whole time, you wondered? You were certain that you did not see him sitting there before.

He was sitting in the corner, on his own, nursing a beer and, immediately, the strength in your legs disappeared.

Cillian wore a denim jacket again, a white to-shirt and some skinny jeans and, just as you glanced over towards him, you remembered his scent. It was so intoxicating.

His deep blue eyes sparkled even in the darkness of the room and just as you picked up your guitar again, he smiled at you with his mesmerizing beautiful pink lips.

Over the past week you had lost hours thinking about him and those goddamn lips. He had been avoiding you at school, doing quick drop and runs in the mornings and afternoons so that he did not have to speak with you again when you collected Mia those days.

His behaviour was rather obvious to you and you did not know what he was doing here tonight. He avoided you for the entire week, so why come here now?

Contently, for an entire hour, he listened to you play one song after another and the way he looked at you was not only mesmerising but also reassuring. His blue eyes were fixated on you as if he was stuck in a dream and, quite often, your eyes met his, especially as you sang to the lyrics of your favourite songs.

Your style was unique. You enjoyed playing Indie with a slight hint of Rock. You wrote and played your own songs too and, ironically, one just came to you yesterday. It was a about him and you hoped that he would not realise that this was the case.

In the end, he never addressed it. At least not yet and when, at around 9 o’clock, you finished up your set with a Radiohead song, you took up the courage and walked over to where he was sitting.

‘Hey’ you said almost shyly as Cillian pulled one of the bar chairs out from beneath the table for you and you took a seat, placing your own pint of beer on to the table.

‘Hey’ Cillian responded with some nervousness before commenting on your musical talent about which you spoke for a while until, eventually, you addressed the elephant in the room.

‘Lorraine came to school the other day, telling me to stay away from you’ you pointed out. ‘Did you tell her about the kiss and is this why you have been avoiding me?’ you asked after the most ridiculous ten minutes of small talk, which is something you had never engaged in with Cillian before.

‘No, I did not tell her about the kiss’ Cillian reassured you before saying something else. ‘And don’t worry about it. I have forgotten all about it already’ he said convincingly and with a smile.

‘Really?’ you then asked with surprise, causing Cillian inhale sharply. Did this kiss really mean nothing to him?

‘No’ he sighed after deciding to tell you the truth. ‘But I tried’ he then admitted with a smile and, just as he did, his cheeks turned red.

‘But listen, even though it was nice, us kissing was a mistake. I did not tell Lorraine about it. We are getting married soon and I do not want to ruin what we have’ Cillian then pointed out and you nodded reluctantly while holding back your tears. You wanted to let it all out, right then and there, but you could not.

‘Okay, but why did she confront me then?’ you asked with a shaky voice.

‘Something happened. It was not my proudest moment and I certainly do not want to talk about it, alright?’ Cillian explained reluctantly and with heavily blushing cheeks and, even though you were intrigued, you simply nodded.

‘But now I want to know’ you said and then there was silence and you looked at each other awkwardly.

‘I may have said your name’ Cillian then blurted out with a slight stammer in his voice.

‘Okay? And?’ you chuckled, not knowing what the big deal was about him mentioning your name.

‘While we had sex’ Cillian then explained and your chin dropped quickly. You began to laugh and, for some reason, so did Cillian.

‘This is bad, you realise that, right?’ Cillian then chuckled and you nodded.

‘It is’ you confirmed before smirking slightly. ‘But I am curious now Cillian…where you thinking of me when you had sex with her? Is that why you said my name?’ you then asked while biting your lower lip nervously

‘Y/N. I am not going to answer that’ Cillian responded quickly and you aborted the conversation then and there.

‘Do you want another beer?’ you thus asked and Cillian nodded.

‘Yeah, sure. Why not. Thanks’ he said and so you went to the bar and ordered two more pints of Guinness.

***

After you came back from the bar, Cillian and you talked for a little longer and, after drinking enough, you opened up to him about your marriage again. You told him about your discoveries that same week and, in turn, Cillian told you why he was here, on his own after having heard about your gig from you last week.

He too has had enough of his fiancée’s antics and actions this week and needed a break from her tonight. First, there had been an incident with preparing the wedding. According to Cillian, she was getting rather angry with a woman who was organising the seating arrangements for her and, in Cillian’s mind, Lorrain’s behaviour was uncalled for.

Then, tonight, Lorraine’s actions took the icing on the cake. Just as Cillian’s mother had arrived at his apartment to pick up the girls for a short weekend trip to his hometown Cork, Ava and Lorraine had a fight about a perfume bottle which Ava had accidently dropped in the bathroom.

The bottle broke and, according to Cillian, Lorraine was furious about it and started to lecture his daughters about the incident. It was an accident and Lorraine’s anger over a bottle of fancy water was uncalled for and resulted in Cillian deciding to go out on his own after the girls had left.

‘So where is Lorraine now?’ you asked after Cillian had told you the story.

‘Some event in Temple Bar I think’ he said and you asked him about his level of commitment to her.

‘It is really none of my business but, do you love her?’ you wanted to know and he shrug his shoulders.

‘I think so, but I do not know for sure. I used to love her but she has changed a lot over the past year’ Cillian admitted and you reached for his hand which was something you knew you should not have done in public.

‘Because of the miscarriage?’ you asked and Cillian’s chin dropped. He was surprised that you knew about the fact that she had been pregnant before.

‘Miscarriage?’ he asked. ‘Did she tell you that?’ he wondered and you nodded reluctantly.

‘She said that you proposed when she was pregnant and, since you do not have a child together, I assumed that…’ you began to say but Cillian interrupted you.

‘She terminated the pregnancy, without my knowledge at the time. She said that, having children then, would have ruined her career’ Cillian explained and you were quick to apologise to him before asking the all-important question.

‘Are you sure that you want to marry her?’ you asked and Cillian’s gaze dropped.

‘No. Not anymore and that concerns me’ Cillian told you before asking you the same question. ‘Were you sure about marrying your husband when you did?’ he wanted to know and you shook your head.

‘I was very young and very stupid’ you said, causing Cillian chuckle. You were much younger than him and even younger than his fiancée and, yet, you were so mature and understanding.

With that, you spoke about your respective relationships for a while longer until, eventually, it was time for you to leave. It was getting rather nasty now, with several drunk patrons causing some trouble and, because of how things had escalated inside the small establishment by this time, Cillian offered to walk you home.

‘I can manage on my own Cillian, really!’ you told him but he insisted.

‘It is almost midnight so, no! I will walk you home!’ he determined and, with that, you grabbed your jackets and left together.

***

About twenty minutes later, you finally arrived at your town house and, just as you pushed open the gate, Cillian was ready to walk back and call taxi.

‘Would you…you know…uhm…’ you began to stammer though and he stood frozen to ground, waiting for you to finish asking what he was hoping you would ask.

‘Would you like to come in for another drink?’ you stammered out eventually, knowing very well that this was a terrible idea and, whilst one part of you hoped that he would say “yes” the other part of you hoped that he would be more sensible than you and say “no”…But, “Yes” was indeed his answer after a moment of silence as Cillian stood there, next to you, with his hands in his pockets like a shy little schoolboy, waiting for you to open the door.

‘Okay. Uhm, come in then’ you said as you finally found your keys and unlocked the door.

After you opened the door to your house and Cillian followed you inside, you hung up your jackets and walked to Kurt’s rather large and luxurious home office which was usually where you kept the good wines. It was adjacent to a temperature controlled inbuild cellar and after you retrieved the bottle you liked the most, you placed it onto your husband’s large cedar desk.

‘Will that do?’ you asked as Cillian approached you carefully and nodded.

‘Yeah, I don’t mind. Whatever you choose I will have too’ he said but, in the end, you never opened the bottle...

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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