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[blond-yallternative]

sooooo i've been at it again and wrote a fluffy little 5+1 Things fic about renee and her relationship with the foxes' couples :)

attention everyone there WILL be renison. we don't get nearly enough of them :')

[blond-yallternative]

TSC boys will be TSC boys (ft. Cody, my beloved nb)

Low-stakes fanfic in which 3 backliners (Cody, Lucas, and Jean [included against his will]) bet 3 strikers (Jeremy, Nabil, and Derrick) that if the backliners can keep the strikers from making any successful shots on goal during a team exercise, then Jeremy will get his ears pierced.

Of course Jean balls out and so do the other 2 so the strikers lose.

Jeremy is deathly afraid of needles (in my head), and Nabil can't join them because he's going home to eat dinner with his family, but Pat joins in last-minute.

Pls be kind this is my first ever fanfic (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

By the time practice was over and they had all showered, changed, and dispersed to their cars, it was past six in the evening. The drive to their destination took less than fifteen minutes, and soon they were pulling into the parking lot of a low, dingy strip mall that looked like it had needed a fresh coat of paint about two years ago. The studio that Nabil had Googled for them was nestled in the far right corner under a large sign emblazoned Black Eye Tattoo. Between the second and third words, a large eye gazed out over the parking lot with a swirling design where its iris and pupil should’ve been. After they parked, Jeremy drummed his fingers on the steering wheel out of time with the pop song on the radio as he stared up at the sign. A few moments later, they spotted the rest of the boys and Cody heading towards them, and Jeremy twisted the key to kill the engine with a long-suffering sigh. He shooed Derrick off his car when he tried to strike a provocative pose on the hood, and Pat held the door of the place open for all of them as a doorbell chimed over their heads.

Jean was more than a little intimidated by the woman standing behind the counter inside. Her jet black hair hung in choppy bangs over her forehead but the rest was tucked behind her ears, making it easy to see the neon rings that stretched her earlobes to twice the normal size. Her haughty gaze didn’t change as the six of them filed through the door and crowded the small lobby space. Pat and Derrick flopped down on the low, bloodred velvet couch set against the far wall, so Jean and Jeremy leaned against the front windows. Cody and Lucas eagerly approached the front counter. The air felt near-frigid after the California heat outside, and Jean savored the sunshine warming his back.

“Aren’t you gonna go check out the options?” Derrick asked Jeremy, who cringed. “I’d rather not look at any of this until absolutely necessary,” he said, and Derrick smirked. At the counter, Lucas and Cody were explaining the situation to the indifferent-seeming woman. Jean squinted to read the cursive scrawl on her metal name tag. Cherie, with a little hand-drawn border of black flowers and vines. 

“All the stones here are available for lobe piercings, organized by size,” she said, dragging her finger in a line over one section of the glass counter that separated her from the lobby. Jean listened a little closer than he normally would, but her voice carried no hint of a French accent. “All our metals are surgical-grade steel, and they come in silver, gold, rose gold, or black finishes. No difference in price.”

“What’s the cheapest option?” Lucas asked. Cherie gave him an unimpressed look that said she was sick of servicing poor college students, but she tapped a black fingernail against the glass. “This one, three millimeter cubic zirconia. $65.”

“That’s quite the chunk of change for two little holes,” Pat muttered from the couch. Jean figured he hadn’t meant to be overheard, but Cherie said, “One.” 

The group looked at her. She clarified. “The $65 is for one piercing. And that doesn’t include tip,” she added, giving them a pointed look. When half the group made a sound of disbelief, Jeremy shushed them with a “Hey, guys.”

Lucas rounded on Cody. “So you’re loaded or something?” he asked, gesturing to their heavily-studded face. 

Cody grinned. “My friend’s aunt owns a tattoo shop. She does mine for free.” 

Lucas slapped his palms on the counter and sighed in dramatic relief. “Well, call her up then!” 

“Dude, she lives in Arizona.” 

Lucas sank to rest his head on his flattened hands in defeat. In the end it was decided that Jeremy would only be getting one ear pierced, but even when Cody and Lucas pooled the cash in their wallets they could only come up with $59.37. With a sigh, Pat chipped in a $20 bill to cover the rest plus tip, and Cherie swiped up the money to store it in the cash register. She surveyed all six of them now standing closer to her counter, and sighed. “You all want to come back, don’t you?” They nodded, and Jeremy said meekly, “Yes ma’am, if that’s okay.” She sighed again but tossed an impatient “Come on, then,” over her shoulder as she strode towards the back. She led them to what appeared to be the largest of the individual rooms of the main part of the studio, and bade Jeremy to sit on the black-cushioned chair in the center. There was one smaller plastic chair to the left of it, and Pat pushed Jean towards it before he could make a beeline for the back of the room. Jean sat as Cherie told the rest of them, “I’m going to need some space. Go stand in the corner over there.” The four of them obediently shuffled over and leaned against the graffiti-covered wall.

Cherie asked the room, “What’s the finish?” 

“Uhhhhh,” Lucas droned, and Jeremy looked to Jean, of all people. Cherie repeated the options to him. “Silver, gold, rose gold, or black.” Jean thought for a moment, studying Jeremy’s face. 

Well, it was not going to be black. But which of the other three? He narrowed his eyes, considering. Spray-painted daffodils, the Trojan statue from their first walk through campus, and a yellow cardboard dog flashed through his mind. “Gold,” he said decidedly, and Cherie nodded in agreement. Jeremy smiled at Jean, but the expression was a bit tight. 

“And which ear am I doing?” 

“Which one’s the gay ear?” Derrick asked, and Lucas snickered. Jeremy twisted in his chair to give them a look, but Patrick doubled down on it. “If the shoe fits, my friend,” he said with a shrug. “Cody, make them stop,” Jeremy complained, but Cody was too busy laughing along with Lucas. Jeremy sighed and faced forward again. “I’ll just do the right ear. I normally sleep on my left side.” After a beat he added, “Please don’t tell them whether or not that’s the gay ear,” and Lucas and Cody’s laughter rang out again.

He held still when Cherie commanded, and then inspected the purple dot she marked on his right ear with the handheld mirror she passed him. He turned and tucked a stray curl back so Jean could see it, too. It looked perfectly centered, so Jean nodded. 

Satisfied with her preparations, Cherie swiveled on her wheeled stool to rub hand sanitizer over her hands and pull on black latex gloves. At the snap they made against her wrists, Jeremy winced. “I like your nametag,” he said randomly, and Jean heard one of the boys snicker. Jeremy continued hurriedly, “You know, Jean here is French. You two might get along.” 

“Ooooh, parlez vous français?” Cody said in a ridiculous high-pitched voice. Lucas laughed maniacally as Derrick replied, “Oui oui, monsieur dumbass.” Jean looked around to see which of the instruments in the room he could use to put himself out of his misery as quickly as possible, but Cherie laughed, too. 

“I don’t speak French, actually. This is just what my grandpa used to call me. I don’t even pronounce it correctly, I know, but I still like it.” The entire room turned to look at Jean in anticipation. 

He gave Cody and Derrick a flat look. “I’m not going to say it.” Various sounds of protest arose from their corner, but Cherie started fixing the gold stud onto a long, sharp instrument and Jean saw Jeremy’s face go positively ashen. When she looked up, Cherie saw it too. 

“Are you afraid?” she asked bluntly, and Jeremy didn’t hesitate before nodding. The boys giggled from the corner. She kept her eyes on Jeremy, her expression unchanged. “That’s not a problem. It’s better if you look away, not close your eyes.” She dug her heels into the floor to wheel herself closer to Jeremy’s right side. “Would you prefer if I counted down, or just did it?” 

Jeremy swallowed. “A countdown, please.” 

Jean could practically feel the anxiety radiating off him with every breath. With a sigh, he shifted his chair to be parallel with Jeremy’s, and didn’t face him as he rested an elbow on Jeremy’s armrest. He cleared his throat. He could feel Cherie and Jeremy’s eyes on him but refused to look their way, and after another second he felt Jeremy’s hand curl under his arm to grip his bicep. His palm was warm and even sweatier than Jean expected, but Jean didn’t pull away. He ignored the whispered conversation happening in the back of the room. 

“Ready?” Jeremy nodded with a tense set to his jaw. Jean grimaced at the crushing grip his captain had on his arm but didn’t let himself move an inch. 

“Okay. Three, two, one,” Cherie said calmly, and Jean blinked in surprise. She had pushed the needle easily through Jeremy’s ear right after two. Jeremy blinked too, then loosed an exaggerated sigh of relief and said, “Dang, that actually wasn’t so bad! Do you do that trick with everyone?” His grip slackened, but he didn’t take his hand off Jean's arm.

“Only the wimps,” Cherie said matter-of-factly, and Jeremy laughed, a little giddy. The boys and Cody peeled off the wall to come admire the stud, and Jeremy only removed his hand from Jean when Cherie passed him the mirror again. Jean tried to be subtle about rubbing the now-sweaty inside of his arm against his shirt, but Jeremy was turning his head this way and that to see the piercing from different angles, completely oblivious. Cody gushed compliments, and Derrick said, “Yeah, gold was definitely the right choice.” Patrick clapped a hand on Jeremy's shoulder in approval.

Jeremy swung his legs over to hang them off the chair and face Jean with a beaming smile.

"What do you think?"

Jean considered the sparkle of the little earring in Jeremy’s lobe, bright against his flushed skin, and met Jeremy’s eyes. “It suits you,” he said simply. And it was true.

Somehow, Jeremy’s smile grew, and the stud twinkled like a miniature star as he kicked his feet.

As they all spilled back into the lobby a staggered chorus of “Thank you, Cherie!” arose from all five of the others. Pat already had his hand on the horizontal bar of the front door when Jean realized they had all turned to look expectantly at him again. He sighed and faced the counter. 

“Merci, ma chérie.” 

The sweet smile that curved Cherie’s lips seemed to soften her entire hardcore appearance, and she waved them all out amidst the chiming of the doorbell and the others’ whoops of triumph.