It was three in the morning when Maggie finally arrived at the apartment she shared with her girlfriend, Alex Danvers. She took off her shoes, hung up her leather jacket by the door, and walked quietly into the bedroom, expecting to find Alex asleep. When she walked through the door however, she saw that Alex was sitting in bed, watching tv.
“Hey babe. You’re home late,” said Alex. She grabbed the remote, and turned off the tv.
“Yeah, sorry about that, Danvers,” Maggie said, sitting down next to Alex on their bed. “I’m surprised that you waited up for me.”
“You sounded really stressed when we talked on the phone earlier,” Alex said gently. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” said Maggie. “All I need right now is you.”
“And you have me,” said Alex. “I’m yours, babe. Anything you want.”
“Anything?” asked Maggie, with a small, suggestive smirk.
“Anything,” Alex confirmed.
Maggie sat down on the bed next to Alex, and leaned in to kiss her. Alex shifted so that Maggie was on top of her. Their kissing became even more passionate, and Alex started tugging on the bottom of Maggie’s shirt.
“You want my shirt off, Danvers?” asked Maggie. Alex nodded in response. “Go ahead babe.”
Alex pulled Maggie’s shirt over her head, and Maggie did the same with Alex’s. They took off each other’s bras, and tossed them gently across the room. Half undressed, they resumed kissing, until kissing wasn’t enough anymore. Alex moaned into the kiss. Maggie pulled slightly away from the kiss, keeping her face close to Alex’s.
“What do you need?” she asked.
“You. I need more of you, babe. I need you to touch me,” said Alex.
“You’re so good at telling me what you want,” said Maggie. Alex moaned, and Maggie started to unzip her pants. She tugged Alex’s pants off, and threw them on the floor next to her.
“You’re so wet for me, babe,” she said, seeing the wetness seeping through Alex’s underwear. “Such a good girl.”
By this point Alex was extremely turned on. She grabbed Maggie’s hand, and brought it to where she needed it. Maggie quickly pulled Alex’s underwear off, almost ripping them. She moved her hand to exactly where Alex needed it, and Alex sighed with pleasure.
Maggie kept going until she could tell that that Alex was close. Then she removed her hand, and Alex squirmed slightly at the loss of contact. Maggie started kissing down Alex’s body. She kissed starting at her collarbones, all the way down to where her hand just was. She pressed her mouth to Alex. Alex was really close now. She moaned, and after a minute or so, she finally came.
She collapsed onto the bed, exhausted and out of breath, but so happy, and so in love. There was no one else who could ever make her feel as amazing as Maggie could. Maggie shifted off from on top of Alex, and snuggled into her girlfriend’s side.
“Want me to make you feel as good as you just made me feel?” asked Alex.
“We can do that in the morning, babe,” Maggie said, also out of breath. “I can tell that you’re tired. And now that I think about it, I am too.”
She pulled her girlfriend closer to her, and they both shut their eyes. They fell asleep with their arms around each other, exhausted, but happier than they had ever been.
I like to think that Tom’s and Marco’s relationship has gotten to the point where Tom just shows up at Marco’s house and complains to Marco about moving over in bed to which Marco simple spreads out his limbs in playful defiance only to find himself pushed off and Tom laying on his bed.
I’’m assuming the pairing is malec, for obvious reasons.
Before we start, this might not go the way you intended, nonny. That is because I just can’t see malec being jealous as in, feeling their relationship is threatened by other people. I’m not comfortable writing that or romanticizing such a harmful sentiment, so I put my own spin on this one.
“Hey have you seen my- Oh.” + “Wait a second… are you jealous?”
Magnus was late for a meeting. Half an hour late, and it wasn’t even the fashionable late he wanted to be. It was just plain late and disrespectful to the other American High Warlocks at their biannual meeting. Really, as if he wasn’t already getting enough shit from having married a shadowhunter and adopted kids, now Magnus would get an earful from those smug old assholes simply because he couldn’t find his favorite jacket.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. There were many perks to having Alec Lightwood as his husband and only some of them had to do with their sex life. The one advantage Magnus was most thankful for at the moment, however, was the fact that Alec was a neat freak.
He would know where the jacket was for sure.
So Magnus marched up to their children’s bedroom, where Alec was putting the boys to bed. He opened the cracked door. “Hey, have you seen my- Oh,” Magnus stopped midsentence.
Alec was indeed there with the boys, sitting on the foot of Max’s bed. Only, their little one was fighting tears and whimpering, his little hands covering his face.
It’s almost midnight when a tired Remy Holmes drags himself to the penthouse. He didn’t know if his tiredness was physical, or just the weight of his guilt. He makes his way up to the guest bedroom he and Lala shared, hoping she was asleep. He finds Nico on the way up.
Remy annoyed: Tell me you weren’t waiting up for me.
Nico: I am. Allison was angry. She wanted me to ask you where you were.
Remy: Tell her to mind her f*cking business.
Nico: I probably won’t tell her that. What are you going to tell Lala?
Remy snaps: Not a damn thing. I don’t answer to her. I’m not *under de saya like you, Nico.
Nico shrugs: Ok, whatever. I spoke with my personal lawyer about what you told me earlier.
Remy: Yeah? And what did he say?
Nico concerned: He knows Steven Brandt. He’s one of the shareholders at True Corporation. He’s also Angelina True’s fiance.
Nico: I’m not gonna even ask how you know that. Anyway, Ola says he needs to see those videos before he can tell us how we should proceed.
Remy: Tell him to be prepared for some very disturbing sh*t.
Nico sighs: I can’t even imagine. Anyway, fine guy you chose to target. Basically my boss’ ex and a shareholder in the company I work for.
Remy: You won’t have an ounce of pity when you see those videos, bro.
Nico: I believe you. Now go see to your woman. It’s not under de saya, it’s about respect. Learn it.
*Filipino slang for a man who fears or is dominated by his wife.
*shows up in cute puppycat onesie and suddenly starts talking like them too; most of what she's saying is: "I bet you really like to see me in a sexy kitty outfit instead. Well wait until next time~ Would you prefer a puppy or a cat? Cause I'm both~ What do you think Ichimatsu would prefer?" Little did she know, all that she said was shown in subtitles below her chest* (Message me if you need reference)
…Maybe he prefers kitties but he finds both cute! =D
I can’t wait for them to bond some more while sleuthing around to find out the origins of their families feuding. You know Rose and Ben are starting to care about each other from the trailer him yelling at her to run for it and she looking frightened for him. That’s my favorite part, Rosaline being worried about Benvolio’s life even tho afterwards they’ll deny, deny, deny lol. I hope Ben will tease her saying I didn’t think you cared about me that much, Capulet. And grinning at her wise*ss retort.
Hello! Are you going to Anime Expo 2017 and like Voltron Legendary Defender?
Then I hope you find me wandering around and say, “Hi!” because I have these 1.5 inch stickers to hand out! I’ll be giving them to artists in the alley, cosplayers, and anyone who wants one! Can’t wait to see y’all there!
(also please help signal boost so more peeps can know)
I'm your new follower and love your writing already 💕💕💕 so could I request Aomine scenario when he's coming home from work only to find his pregnant wife is nowhere to be found, and she's on the bathroom because her waters broke.. They have twins!! But with his skin tone ;)
I’m not entirely familiar with this sort of situation, but I’ll do my best! (I hope I got stuff right, I made Aomine wait out so I can skip writing the labor process as I don’t have any clue on how it goes) ( ◞･౪･)
Fair notice that I think this is mild humor, even if I don’t know whether you guys would consider this funny. Sorry if this is not what you want, anon! Hit me up if you want a serious rewrite.
(I’m not in any way making fun of the process of giving birth. Something just came over me and I wrote it this way. Apologies in advance in case someone finds this offensive or anything.)
He furrows his brows when an empty, dark apartment greets him, your usual greeting absent though he called for you. He wonders where you’re at, police instincts making him slightly wary. Aomine maneuvers perfectly around the room despite the minimal lighting, reaching the closed door of your shared bedroom in the hallway. He opens it, noticing the light from the bathroom turned on. Then he hears a groan—your groan.
“__________!” Aomine calls out, panic overwhelming his head as he barges in the bathroom, a hand unconsciously hovering over his gun holster.
“Daiki,” you reply weakly, yet your face show surprise at your husband’s presence. You didn’t hear him enter the house.
He doesn’t waste a second in assisting your propped up form against the bathroom counter.
“I got home early,” he says, as if you telepathically asked him a question, “what happened?!”
“My water broke,” you answer, face contorted in pain as you rest a hand on your belly. He somehow realizes what is happening halfway through your words, already guiding you to the door. “We need… to go to the—”
“The hospital, yes, I know, oh my God,” he mumbles fervently, probably feeling more horrified and nervous than you are despite the strength of his hands’ grip on you. You would laugh if not for the situation that you are in and the pain between your legs.
He is pacing back and forth, a knuckle on his mouth acting as a chew toy to calm down his apparent anxiety, but it’s clear from his face and his twitching legs that it’s not doing anything to calm him down. It has been exactly one and a half hours since your water broke back in the bathroom of your apartment, and his panic has nothing but increased. He insisted on going in the room with you, only earning a weak glare from you and an equally weak “you can’t handle this, Daiki”. He remembers deadpanning at that—you’re not exactly doing so well to say that to him—but now he’s just consumed with dread. How are you holding up? How much pain are you feeling right now?
Thoughts are abruptly killed when an assisting nurse nearly slams the door open, alerting not only him, but other people in the hallway. Aomine visibly jerks at the sudden sound. He can hear your heavy panting and the doctor’s “Push! Push!” from inside the room.
“The second one is coming,” the nurse said, her completely neutral face a perfect, comical juxtaposition to the jittery husband that is Aomine. Before he can even restate his want to get in there and be with you and hold your hand and wipe the sweat out of your face, she closes the door back with a second equally loud slam, effectively cutting off the sound of you. Right, as if she’d let him in in the middle of labor.
Shit, shit, shit, he curses inwardly, not knowing that his mouth is silently wrapping over each syllable so clearly that a deaf person could probably hear the hissing. You sounded like you’re in so much pain, from the snippet he heard.
Another hour later, Aomine is sure his legs just got slightly buffer and footwork slightly speedier from all the pacing in the hallway, earning various looks from other people in the hospital. It seems like an eternity for him until the door slowly creaks open. It’s the same nurse looking at him with the same face, yet he can sense that she seems relieved despite the ever-neutral face.
“Congratulations,” she says, almost sighing. The nurse steps aside, and at that moment Aomine realizes he is allowed to enter the room. He sprints inside, though the action is not necessary, as it takes less than fifteen steps from his position in the hallway to the side of your bed. His face contorts with worry as he kneels beside your bed, hand cupping your face.
“Baby, baby,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek lovingly.
“Mhmm, baby alright,” you mutter sarcastically, betraying how your heart is full with happiness. Aomine doesn’t even send a pointy glare at you, knowing exactly what you’re feeling, because he’s feeling it too—not because you’re leaning tiredly into his hands and clasping your hand around his.
“Two healthy boys,” the doctor announces with a beam on her face, handing both you and your husband the now not bloody babies. They look like fluffy cherub wraps, you conclude—obviously the physical tiredness has done a number to your brain as well. You realize that they have Aomine’s skin color, slightly tanned, which makes you think they look more like fluffy potato wraps.
“What did you just say?” Aomine whispers, confusion apparent on his face, and you know you just said ‘fluffy potato wraps’ out loud.
“Nothing,” you whisper back, eyes tearing up at the baby in your arms. His face immediately softens—it’s easy to ignore the bizarre phrase you just uttered and blame it to the labor you went through, but he’s not going to live this one down. He’ll probably whisper ‘fluffy potato wraps’ at you in the future, and while you’re doing the do, to amplify the effect.
All thoughts are quickly thrown out the window when Aomine hears his son gurgle incoherently. The sound is so cute that his heart almost jumps out of his chest, and the reality of him having two sons sink in.
He’s a father now. He’s going to take care of these two boys, changing their diaper, waking up in the middle of the night to feed them when they’re hungry. By probably ten months he’s going to hear them say their first word, and before he knows it, they’ll be running around the apartment playing tag, going to school and pouting over homework. Then, they’ll grow up, have a crush, get their heartbroken. He’ll watch as they graduate and go to college or get a job, and hopefully he’ll still be around to watch them and their grandchildren.
Realizing the hotness of his sapphire eyes, he blinks, hoping to take the tears back where they come from. He looks over to you, eyes still slightly glossy and a hand on your cheek.
“You did great,
“Mmm,” you smile softly. His breath stops at his throat at how lovely you look, sweaty and tired in your hospital gown, and at that moment he says the vows he said to you on your wedding day in his thoughts. “You’ll be a great dad, Daiki.”
“You think so?” He asks.
“Yeah, I think so.”
A comfortable silence wraps around the two of you like a blanket, save for the occasional cries of the babies, while you and Aomine admire your children. You feel joy like never before (actually, your wedding felt kind of like this, too), and it’s as if everything in the world is right…
“Did you lock the door to our apartment?”
“I’m just joking. What are we going to name them?”
hello everyone! i know a few of your are still waiting on meme replies and plotting suggestions from me but i’ve recently began working again and my schedule is pretty much all over the place. because of this i’m putting myself on hiatus until i’ve found my footing in my workplace!
however!! because of my recent on-and-off activity as of late with both being laid off and attempting to find another job, i would like to do something in exchange for all of you being so patient with me: with drabbles between our characters! they will not be canon and you can basically just take it as fanfiction, to be honest, but i think that during my hiatus it will help keep me from falling into a writing funk that i have, admittedly, fallen in to.
if you’re interested then please comment below with a keyword (or two) so i know what you’d like:
mine = fluff/ship nursed = hurt/comfort desk = high school au espresso = coffee shop au gun = action crow = dark/bad end au
that’s all i can think of lmao but yes! this applies to everyone honestly and, again, i apologize with how i’ve been so off the ball. thank you for understanding and reading all of this and i hope you all have a good day!
Find out what makes us wish Laura, @pomegranatepithos, will always land safely and how online games turned her into the beloved writer we have come to know. Thank you for sharing bits and pieces of your life with us!
Writers Creed: So
tell us your name and about your username, how did you pick it?
Laura: My name is
Laura. I didn’t pick it so much as my parents chose for me. I like it because
it’s the name of a woman for whom the Italian poet Petrarch wrote many poems. Oh,
wait. You meant my user name. ;)
I like pomegranates but that’s not why I chose
it. In the myth about Persephone, she ends up staying in the Underworld because
she eats pomegranate seeds. And pithos is the Greek term for jar, or
specifically urn. Both words are about death and are related to the concept of
rebirth. I chose the name because I like the idea of being reborn into
something new via my writing.
WC: Wow that is
pretty amazing. So much thought went into it and I think the connections are
phenomenal here. Does Greek mythology play a big role in your writing?
L: Every so often
I’ll write something that has a mythological reference, but it’s not a usual
WC: What got you into
writing? What was it that made you say “I will do this.” ?
L: For me,
writing isn’t a compulsion. I don’t have to do it. It’s just one of the many
things I enjoy. I like to watch people
and make up stories about them. I’ve always done it in my head, but I didn’t
start putting the stories on paper until I began playing an MMORP [Massively multiplayer online role-playing] game.
Initially I was only playing the game without any RP, but after a while I began
to make up a background story for my character and wrote it down. After that I
began to write stories about other characters and people. Eventually, I found
Tumblr and started writing poetry as well.
WC: I always love to see how people have become
inspired to start writing, and this certainly is amazing. So do you write about
people you observe, interact with, ones who are in your life, all of the above?
L: None of the
above. The majority of what I write isn’t about anyone in particular. I may get
a thought or concept that is inspired by someone, but what I write isn’t a
literal translation of that idea. My writing isn’t personal.
WC: Ah ok I see.
So what do you usually write about? Are there any topics that tend to reoccur
in your writing or not really?
L: I’d have to
look through my files to see if there is anything I write about more than
anything else, but I don’t think there is. Since I like to read a wide variety
of topics, I try to keep my writing varied as well. While I sometimes go with a
theme for a few pieces, I alter each piece in style, language, or format. I
would get bored writing about the same topic in the same manner all the time.
WC: That is a great
thing to do because you truly get to grow as a writer that way, the more you
get out of your comfort zone and try different things.
WC: How long have you been writing and do you have any goals regarding writing?
L: I’ve been
writing for approximately five years, but it’s only been three years since it
became a regular and more serious thing in my life.
I don’t have any goals such as writing a book. I may do it
in future, but it’s not a burning desire. For now, I’m just happy to have
people like my writing enough to occasionally get published in lit mags.
WC: Ah so you do
have published work, that is great! Would you say there is anything interesting
or strange that has happened to you because you write?
strange has happened. But one interesting thing is that I have met some
fabulous people. And not just online. While I was in the UK recently I met two
writers I had only known via Tumblr and now I’ve had the wonderful privilege of
knowing them in person.
WC: Wow that is
great. I think many of us can relate to having met some fabulous people on
here, but to have met them in person, that is just wonderful. I’m sure you’ve
had a great time seeing them in person.
Any fun facts not related to writing that you’re willing to
share with us? Really, anything!
L: I have a long
list of oddities, but for the sake of brevity and not wanting to scar your
readers I’ll limit it to three not so odd things. I don’t do high-fives or fist
bumps. It began as a joke one time and now it’s just a quirky thing I don’t do.
I like shows like ‘The Walking Dead’, ‘Sons of Anarchy’, and ‘Breaking Bad’.
That’s probably only odd to people who know me though. If you saw me you’d
likely think I’d prefer 'Once Upon a Time’ or some other cutesy show. I like to
jump out of airplanes and I enjoy riding super fast roller coasters with lots
of loops and spins.
WC: Those are
some fun facts indeed! I have to ask, jump out of airplanes? That something you
L: Not as often
as I’d like. I don’t have time at present since I am so busy with school.
understandable. That is pretty awesome! Hope you get back to it and always land
Thank you, Laura, for taking the time to answer my
questions, it has been a pleasure getting to know more about you
L: Thank you for
inviting me to share! I’m always happy to chat with other writers and my
message box is open.
I will not tell you to get over the person you’re thinking about… that would make me a hypocrite. I will not belittle what you’re going through by repeating tired old platitudes like ‘it gets better’, ‘you’ll find someone better’ or ‘you deserve better’…
I will not tell you that you’re holding onto ashes when the fire has long since burned out or that the rest of your life is waiting for you the moment you are ready to accept that the past is behind you… These are all things you’re probably not ready to hear and you need to realize them for yourself.
But the one thing I will tell you this; I know how it feels to miss somebody. It feels like you’re dying inside. Like you can actually feel your heart ripping and tearing because it so desperately wants to be where happiness is, but you were foolish enough to find happiness in a person – which everyone says not to do – and now they’re gone and they’ve taken your happiness away with them. I know that feeling of helplessness… that confusion of staring at empty hands that used to have everything but suddenly seem to have nothing… I know that pain. I know it all too well… and I feel it. I feel it until I can’t feel any more and then I start to heal a little and I feel it all over again.
So no, I won’t tell you to get over the person you’re thinking about like it’s something easy you should have mastered yourself by now because it’s not… it’s one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do. But what I will tell you is you’re not doing this alone and if you promise to keep trying… so will I…
today ‘wait for it’ from hamilton was stuck in my head but then it started seamlessly transitioning into ‘complicated’ by avril lavigne like… when burr sings ‘we rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes’ i was turning it into ‘we rise and we fall and we break and we take what you get and you turn it into honesty you promise me i’m never gonna find you fake it’ and like… no matter what i do i can’t unhear it somebody please tell me an audio’s been made of this
As a kid, I used to think love was when you thought someone was pretty and they let you hold their hand. I would send out the letters to every girl that caught my eye and I would wait anxiously for a reply. I carried that trend into my adult life–pairing myself with any pretty girl that didn’t find me repulsive.
So when you asked me when I knew I loved you. I was tempted to say it was when we held hands for the first time and I felt it in my gut, but it was seven months later, a week after I met your family, that double date with your best friend and her loud boyfriend. During one of his many stories, you reached for my hand under the table and smiled at me because you knew how irritated I was getting. I tried to master a smile back at you but my lips turned to concrete. I felt it like I had never in my life: butterflies.
All my life I’ve been building walls and towers so high you couldn’t see what was behind; my fears and insecurities. Perhaps that’s why I always looked for battles and challenges, even when there wasn’t any. I always looked for ghosts to fight and demons to shoot so I would keep myself busy. Then, you came along and you made it easy for me. You laughed at all my jokes, especially the terrible ones and made me special, safe. I couldn’t fight this and I didn’t want to because it was the best thing to ever happen to me. I knew instantly that you didn’t want to change that part of me which always looked for the hard path but you would encourage it, standing by my side. So that’s what love is, not the absence of a battle, but fighting together.
Every day, I see stuff in this fandom which disgusts me, but today I think I saw the absolute worst, and I’m sure plenty will agree with me. The majority of this fandom, I think, is full of wonderful, respectful people who only want the best for Harry and the rest of the guys but the past few days, I’ve seen so much stuff go on that is just wrong and far beyond too.
Finding out where his hotels are, waiting for him, going inside the hotel and trying to find him when he’s on holiday, basically forcing him to have photos with you, and then when he asks you like the angel he is to not post them for a couple of days, you still do? That’s wrong. I’ve walked past him three or four times in the street, live pretty much on the same road, walk past his house regularly to get to the pub or go to the Heath, and the only time I’ve ever even dared to go up to him was at a live performance, when he was working.
Standing outside his house in London and going through his rubbish? Pretty sure that’s illegal. And it’s wrong. You can’t invade people’s privacy like that and think it’s ok or that you should get away with it. It’s wrong and I swear if I caught anybody doing that outside his house, I’d knock them into next week.
Leaking his and his family’s private photos is wrong too. So what if they’ve been posted on a family member’s Facebook, it’s not your place to take them and share them. If there is no clear source or you can’t recall an event or day when it was, do not reblog or share.
Sharing private, heartbreaking information that nobody knows whether true or false and where you have ZERO right to share, is a disgrace and the person who does this and who leaks the photos (it’s the same person) needs to be reported at every single opportunity by everybody who is able to.
Harry is an angel to every single one of us, even those who don’t deserve it, and it’s time some ‘fans’ started giving him a little bit of respect back. Some of you really do disgust me and make me ashamed to be associated in the same breath. I hope Harry knows that this is just a small minority of people. This is a man who walks around London and Holmes Chapel with no security, because he should be able to; he shouldn’t have to hide away from fans but the way some of you act are going to make him go that way one day and then you’ll be the ones crying over how he never has time for you. You know what? You brought it on yourselves.
I want your Monday morning
sleep soaked eyes
dream drenched voice,
‘five more minutes please babe.’
I want your Tuesday afternoon
glasses off, laughter on
‘just hold me for a while
it’s been a hard day.’
I want your Wednesday evening
fingers through hair
teeth nibbling nails
neck craning, eye glazing
‘this paperwork never ends’
I want your Thursday night
drinks for two
muscles let loose
‘just me and you’
I want your finally Friday
stretch soul smile,
sun sipping light
from the glaciers in your eyes
fingers unfurl, hand extends
‘c’mon babe, lets go wild’
I want your weekend.
your movie marathon Saturday
reading by the fireplace
kissing in the blankets
want your Sunday morning
orange juice and pancakes
white sheets, tender skin
hair like the Fourth of July
‘let’s not get out of bed today.’
I want your ordinary
and your stress, rest, release
I want your bad day and that terrible night
I want you drunk in my arms
forgetting the place but never my name
I want your lazy and your lonely
and your fist full of fight
I want you everyday
in every way
for the rest of my life.
yet unknown writer
Thisis the kind of love I want to find one day.
(found it on Berlin-artparasites –someone pls find me the author of this quote)
“I’m gonna propose,” Jack huffs through red-stained teeth and a cut lip. “right here.”
“Now?” Eric asks, throwing off his gloves to push off his helmet.
“Right now,” Jack nods, “but only if you want to.”
“But you lost.” The music is deafening and out of the corner of his eye, Eric can see Cricket grinning like a loon before a swarm of reporters and several cameras.
“And you won,” Jack counters, tossing off his own gloves to cup Bitty’s face. “And you have no idea how proud of you I am. Six years ago you’d pass out if you got hit. Tonight you ran me into the boards. Twice!”
“Cause you were being an asshole, Sweetpea.”
“And it was great, but you know who helped you through that? I did,” Jack grins. “Checked you so many times you forgot you hated me. So it’s kinda like I won too, you know? I won because I get to see you fearless.”
Eric grabs a handful of Jack’s jersey and pulls him down into a kiss, heedless of the flashing lights and screaming spectators. When they separate Jack’s expression is dazed.
Another siren goes off and Jack shouts, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you!”
“Me too!” Bitty yells, fighting tears of exhaustion and happiness.
“Great. Let’s get married! But not here. Later. I love you.” Jack cradles Eric’s sweaty face and peppers kisses across his cheek.
“Wait,” Eric protests, finding Sorenson’s blond head a short way away. “What about right now? Our backup is ordained.”
Jack stares at Eric and grins like he hasn’t just lost Game 7 of the finals. Like Eric isn’t about to hoist the cup. Like they didn’t just out themselves on national television.
“Yeah?” he breathes, pulling Eric into a hug. “Sounds good. Let’s do it.”