we make a pretty good team

Good morning everyone! This is from a fic coming soon, in which Jonah might be hiding something... 🧡

Jonah wriggles out of TK’s arms. He presses his hands over his mouth, but he can’t hold back a shrieking cackle. TK laughs because Jonah is being goofy, but he looks at Carlos curiously.

“What’s so funny?” TK asks.

“I don’t know…Nothing!” Jonah shouts.

“He’s been in a super happy mood all afternoon,” Carlos says, returning TK’s confused gaze. “I don’t know why.”

“Can I play on my swing?” Jonah shouts again joyfully, as if he’s only just realized they have a grand swing set in their backyard. “Can I? Please?”

Carlos looks at Jonah with a sympathetic smile. “I was thinking you could do with a nap, cinnamon roll.”

Jonah glares back like he’s being a total killjoy. “Papa, I’m not a baby.”

Carlos turns to TK, who shrugs. It’s ultimately a good thing if Jonah wants to tire himself out on the swing.

“Okay, go on.” TK steps out of the way to let Jonah run off.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Carlos starts once Jonah has thudded away through the kitchen.

TK folds his arms. “How much sugar did you give him?”

“He was having these random bouts of hyperactivity before any sugar, I swear.”

“So, your solution was to get him a milkshake?” TK sits down wearily on the stairs.

“It’s a hot day!” Carlos retorts. “And he needs his calcium.”

TK rolls his lips and holds up his left pinky. “You know he’s got you wrapped around this, right?”

“Oh yeah?” Carlos raises an eyebrow. He takes a step up on the stairs so he’s looming over TK, and grabs his hand. Leaning down, he puts TK’s little finger in his mouth slowly, sucks on it. “And what’s around your finger?”

“Shut up,” TK laughs despite himself, and folds like a cheap suit when Carlos kisses his neck.

Open tag and tags below:

Thank you for the tag @carlos-in-glasses! Chapter 3 of Otherside of the Game is fully drafted! Just needs to be edited... Luckily that is my favorite part :)

“Let me guess, you wanna buy Carlos flowers to make up for the fact that you and Marj went rogue and started your own amateur investigation into his case?” Paul holds a pink flower up to his nose and raises a challenging eyebrow at TK. 

“No,” TK scoffs.

“Come on, TK,” Marjan prods. “You’re getting him guilt flowers.”

“They’re not guilt flowers.”

“Oh yeah? How many times have you gotten him flowers unprompted?”

He pauses. She’s got him there. 

“They’re guilt flowers.”

He can’t remember either of them ever getting each other flowers. Their love languages have always skewed closer towards acts of service, like a back rub or a home cooked meal, or Carlos bringing home random knick knacks from Buc-ee's and TK filling the cabinet with fun new snacks from H-Mart.

“I’m actually not sure if Carlos even likes flowers.”

“Everyone likes flowers,” Marjan says encouragingly.

“We’ve always had houseplants. And the herb garden…” He scrunches his nose. “Wait, are flowers different from plants?”

“Yes,” Paul calls from across the aisle.

“Don’t listen to him,” Marjan says. “You’ve been married to Carlos for years, TK, I’m sure you can find something he’ll like.”

Marjan hovers behind as TK starts moving down the aisle, he has no idea what he’s doing but picking out flowers for Carlos can’t be that hard. He likes a minimalist aesthetic and clean lines, so TK grabs a handful of white lilies, a few creamy off-white tube-shaped flowers. Maybe he can find something dark for accent…

“No,” Marjan says, grabbing the flowers from his hands and going to put them back.

“What the hell, Marj?”

“These are funeral flowers, dummy.” 

“There are special flowers for funerals?”

Paul’s sigh practically has an echo.

“Sorry! I’m gay, not Bobby Berk!”

“There’s a whole flower language,” Marjan says. She’s clearly trying to bite back a laugh. “Everybody knows that.”

“Well, I didn’t get the memo. And I’m pretty sure Carlos didn’t either.”

“Nope.” She says when he reaches for a bunch of cheerful yellow carnations. “Those mean rejection.”

“He would definitely get that memo,” Paul muses quietly.

Next he learns that orange lilies mean hatred. Petunias are a symbol of anger.

“Who is out there buying people hate flowers?” TK asks, bewildered.

Your perspectives matter. Your representation matters. You are not bothersome for demanding equal treatment in fandom. It is not your responsibility to make fandom more welcoming and inclusive to you. It is not your sole responsibility to create all of the Black-centered content. You are not "ruining" anyone's fun for demanding better for yourself, and anyone who says otherwise can go fuck themselves. Any fandom worth being a part of should have no room for racism in it.

Black people in fandom, you are wanted. You are needed. You are loved and appreciated. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.