#I forgot coach Ben

[i-just-drink-coffee]

Things the Yellowjackets would say pt 16 (prob)

Shauna: Sorry I think it’s a little hot when a girl is kind of possessive, as if it’s my fault

Van: Can’t afford to be gay right now, don’t have enough money

Mari: The grind never starts I’m making soup again

Nat: Shawty I think we both are fuckeddd up bro

Lottie: Aren’t we all the children of two people who had sex

Taissa: Desperately need a wife who will stand by me when I get cancelled

Laura Lee: Sundays are only for Jesus and free wine

Jackie: I’m bouncing on “it” and by bouncing I mean “talking a walk and crying” and by it I mean “around the neighbourhood”

Misty: Offended a bird attacked me - all I did was harass it consistently

Akilah: Save me cheese sandwich… save me

Coach Ben: If you die on this field trip I will not hesitate to leave you here

Travis: Girliepopped a bit too hard and accidentally became bisexual

[azsazz]

Shots & Spins

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Req from @kristijenner19: I saw you were thinking about hockey!AZ because same. How about a fic where she's a figure skater and they're trying to teach each other their respective sports. Imagine poor Az trying to do a spin/jump/twizzle and a reader who can barely ever make a shot into a goal

Bonus points if they switch their skates and have to re-learn how to skate with the new blade

Warnings: Mild panic attack, mentions of readers injury (torn ACL), trauma from coaches (verbal) mentioned.

Word Count: 3088

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown

HOCKEY SZN SOON MY LOVES 💙💙

Notes: I swear I meant to make this cuter but of course, I had to give it some angst 😅

_________________________________________

“What is this?” You question. You’re probably being rude, with your nose scrunched in disgust. With the way you’re holding the pair of skates as far away from your body as possible, you’re pretty sure you look like the biggest bitch on all of campus. But for the life of you, you can’t figure out why Azriel has handed you hockey skates.

“They’re skates,” Azriel answers. You rip your glare from the offending skates at his obvious response. Your heart stumbles in your chest at the sight of his pink lips twitching, begging to reveal that grin he spends most of his time expertly hiding.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning closer in anticipation, so eager to see that smile until the hitch of his breath snaps you back to consciousness.

You rock back on your heels so quickly you nearly tumble over. Would tumble over if it weren’t for Azriel’s quick reflexes, his large hands enveloping your waist and steadying you back on your feet.

“Thanks,” you reply flatly, dipping your chin to the ground to hide your flaming cheeks. There’s not an ounce of amusement in your body.

“You’re welcome.” You don’t like the smugness in his tone or the way he’s playing with you. Tilting your face back up, you muster all the annoyance lancing through your veins at his retort, shooting him the nastiest glare.

“That’s not what I meant, Az, and you know it. Why am I holding a pair of hockey skates?”

Azriel sits on the bench beside the empty arena, and you want to pout. Why would you want to spend any more time at the rink than you already do? You’re bone-fucking-tired and your knee is feeling stiff. You overdid it in practice this week, trying to get back into the shape you were in before the time you’d been forced to take off, and it’s hitting you hard. All you really want to do is crawl home, roll out your muscles, and dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

When you don’t join Azriel, he says, with a humor you don’t feel, “Don’t tell me you forgot about our little bet. Or how you so gracefully lost it.”

Of course you hadn’t forgotten. Who could forget losing at something as simple as a race across the arena? Afterwards, you tried to blame it on the differences in the ice, how it was colder and harder than you were used to, as it was prepared for the hockey team’s game later that weekend.

A rookie mistake, honestly. One that you’ve been kicking yourself over up until this very moment. Well, if you could kick with your injured leg, that is, you’d be doing just that.

You grind your teeth as a memory rises to the forefront of your mind. Your coach’s voice rings in your head, shrill and reprimanding. Why would you take such foolish chances? You need to get your head in your sport or you’re never going to make it on the Olympic team, let alone the University team.

Shame presses down on you, and your eyes prick at the criticism you should be used to by now. Your private coach from your time before Velaris University, Amarantha, had been very creative with her insults, always coming up with comments worse and harsher to cut down any semblance of confidence you had in your sport.

You bet she’s thrilled that you won’t be back in her presence until you’re healed enough. If you heal enough to relearn the very trick that took you out of the running for the Olympic team in the first place.

It must be a thing, coaches insulting their prodigies. You glance at Azriel from the corner of your eye and wonder if his coach is the same way. If Rhys is brutal with his teammates.

And you hate losing. It was Azriel who you wished forgotten about the bet you’d so stupidly agreed to, but here he is, wearing the same look that got you into this position in the first place.

You take your time studying him as you mull over how to get out of this. Azriel’s broad shoulders take up the space of two people, and his deep, dark hair falls over his brow, growing out into the perfect flow all the players seem to be sporting right now. You wonder if it’s superstition or they actually like the look. His thick lashes sweep as he bats them, and your cheeks take on a pink hue as he pretends to preen under your attention.

“Look,” he all but sighs, giving up his act. He leans back, reaching over to grab something out of sight. When Azriel rightens himself, he holds a pair of figure skates, a sheepish smile on his face. The apples of his cheeks mottle with pink. “I got myself figure skates, so we can both look like fools out there. Together.”

Fuck. The sentiment makes your throat tighten. He doesn’t have to be so damn thoughtful, you’re hardly even friends for Mother’s sake.

“Fine,” you manage when you can speak again. You plop onto the bench beside him. Your knee throbs dully in protest, but it’s nothing you haven’t been able to smother before. You’ve worked through worse conditions than hockey prepped ice, have skated in casts and aches so deep you weren’t sure you’d be able to compete at all if it weren’t for your raw love for the sport and your brutal stubbornness, holding yourself to the highest of standards.

And it’s not like you’re going to be doing your usual tricks. No, that’s all Azriel. All you have to manage is a few forward spirals, twizzles, and perhaps an axel just to show off a little, because there’s no way he’ll be able to recreate all of that in one go.

You just hope your knee stays steady for a few more hours.

The both of you lace your shoes in silence. The hockey skates are so different from your figure skates, you note. The blade is much thicker than you’re used to, more curved too. The boots are shorter, and you grimace at the lack of ankle support.

Not to mention you’re not entirely sure how well you’ll be able to stop without your toe pick.

Azriel leads you to the ice. You step on tentatively, giving the new skates a test. They have a lot more give than you’re used to. They’re not as snug, but easy enough to navigate. Muscle memory kicks in and after a few sluggish runs up and down the ice, you think you’ve gotten the hang of it.

The rest of this bet should be a breeze, especially compared to how Azriel is faring.

His face is contorted with a concentrated frown. He looks stiff as a fucking board, which make you giggle and him complain about. “How the hell do you wear these things? I can barely even move my ankles!”

“Practice makes perfect, young Padawon,” you tease, testing how best to shift your weight on the new blades. The pressure on your knee isn’t terrible, thanks to the looseness of the hockey skates.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azriel waves you off. He trails behind you at a slower rate, focused on getting used to the stiffness of the figure skates on his feet. “Just wait until we scrimmage.”

Ugh, no thanks. This is just perfect for you, the both of you out on the open ice, all alone. You don’t want to ruin this peaceful bliss by bringing your competitive personalities into it.

“I knew if we raced under different conditions I’d have won!” You exclaim, zipping past Azriel again, showing off. He glares playfully, but you’re much too busy admiring your skates to notice the way he’s tucked his lip between his teeth, hiding a satisfied grin.

His toe pick digs into the ice, grinding down as he gets a feeling for the foreign piece, but his eyes stay glued on you.

“Ready for a stick and gloves already, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you throw a smirk back in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking a brow. “You ready for twizzling?”

“Twizzlers?”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, but your heart still skips at his wry smile. It’s more than cute. You push off your blade, moving closer to him.

Which is fine, until you try to use your toe pick to stop, only for the realization to hit that there isn’t one on these skates.

You go barreling into Azriel, who catches you in his arms. Your motion throws him off balance and before you even have the chance to squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself, you’re both falling to the ice.

Azriel hits with a grunt that reverberates through your bones. You’d think that Azriel breaking your landing would be less painful than it is, but with the way the muscle is packed on his body, he’s just as hard as the ice that’s no longer beneath your feet.

“Sorry,” you cringe. It comes out breathless and embarrassment flushes your cheeks, but you’re frozen to your spot and all too aware of how his large, warm hands are wrapped firmly around your waist.

“No worries.” Your lashes flutter as his breathy whisper caresses your face. He’s probably just winded, that’s why he sounds like that. Yes, that’s exactly what it is. “Didn’t think to remind you how to stop.”

“I know how to stop,” you argue, but there’s none of your usual fire tainting the words. You can’t even muster one of your famous glares that you reserve for the normally broody hockey player. You break eye contact as the humiliation begins creeping in. You scratch your nail distractedly down the waffled fabric of his olive colored henley. “I just…forgot, I guess.”

The hitching of his breath in his chest shifts your body and you jolt, the situation slamming into you like a truck.

You scramble off Azriel, grimacing at the sound of your blades clinking against his. His grip loosens, hands falling away as you slip to the ice beside him.

You shoot to your knees, then not-so-carefully climb to your feet. Azriel holds his hands out from where he’s still lying on the ground, like he’s more than ready to catch you again should you fall.

You’re positive the heat of your cheeks could melt the entire arena’s ice right now. You need to get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself further. You need to never show your face around here again. You’ve already transferred schools once, what’s one more time?

Azriel calls your name, but you hardly hear him over your racing thoughts. If the sheer embarrassment wasn’t enough, Coach Weaver’s voice now fills the rest of your head, screeching about your recklessness and how you could’ve injured yourself—

He’s quicker than you thought, or you’ve been trapped in your mortified headspace for too long because Azriel’s on his feet, towering over you and pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles and his hands tighten around you. He lets you bury your face into his chest and pretends not to notice the tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. You’re fucking trembling, and his heart is pounding just as hard.

This is all his fault.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe,” he tries to console. He looks around frantically, like one of the sports therapist students or coaches might be walking past the rinks this late at night. There’s no soul in the building besides the both of you, everyone resting for their busy weekends of competitions and away hockey games. “Please.”

You focus on his words, how he guides you, three seconds in, three seconds out. You focus on the soothing patterns he’s drawing down your back, focus on the beating of his heart and latch onto his scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Sorry,” you croak when you finally manage to calm yourself and slide a step back. Your gaze sits pointedly on the ice. You don’t want him to see you like this, a woman who’s about to fucking crumble.

“Don’t be,” Azriel says softly. His hand finds your face, and as much as you don’t want him to, he lifts your chin. You don’t fight it, emotionally exhausted. You should have asked for a raincheck, but you can admit to the fact that Azriel’s gentle touch is a comfort that you can’t help but lean into.

Sad, hazel eyes meet yours. They’re more golden brown than green, a forest of hues backlit by a burst of gold. Your breath hitches as he drags a thumb softly across your lips. They part, even though you don’t mean them to, and the whisper of breath that leaves you passes over his hand, crawls up his arm, and sends shivers down his spine.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure you can hold yourself together enough to answer his question without completely melting into a puddle at his feet.

Your silence must be answer enough. Azriel takes both of your hands in his own and guides you back toward the bench where you left your shoes. His grip is reassuring, and you’re so tired that you don’t even have it in yourself to sling a witty remark his way.

For what might be the first time in your life, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

You can’t even muster a chuckle at the way he stumbles over the toe pick on his way off the ice, or the way you’re waddling in these skates. You feel anything but graceful and strong right now, but with Azriel’s hand in yours, it’s not as off-putting as you feared it might be.

“Sit,” he says, keeping his fingers clasped around yours as you heed his command. It brings you eye-level to his hands, puckered and pink and scarred to hell. They’re beautiful in every way. He embraces his story, and it’s an incredible strength, one you’re much too terrified of attempting to recreate.

“Azriel, no,” you protest, jolting forward when he lowers himself to his knees before you. You plant your hands on his shoulders, ready to force him away because you’re more than capable of taking your own skates off.

He catches your wrists, and you didn’t think his eyes could soften any more, but they do, and you melt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of this for you.”

You try to swallow past the knot in your throat to thank him but are unable to. Instead, you nod and reluctantly sit back.

Azriel’s gentle with his movements, like you’re a wild doe that he’s helping free from a snare. He unties the tight knots, and your heart pinches when he struggles for a moment. You wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching so intently, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Like he knows you need to see this.

You carefully keep your mind from wandering into how good he looks like this before you.

He slips the first skate off, and you stretch your toes. It’s a reflex. Azriel smiles, peeking up at you just in time to catch your blush. His gaze ducks away before you become embarrassed, setting your foot down and holding your other ankle, lifting to get to work.

You hiss softly at the ache in your knee.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laces his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no,” you cringe a little at the lingering sting. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart.” Azriel says sternly. Seriously. “That reaction wasn’t nothing. What’s wrong?”

You sigh, defeated in more ways than one. You don’t want to admit that the injury that threw your entire career off-kilter is acting up again. You’d rather not have anyone know.

Perhaps Azriel is different. Or, maybe he’s forcing you, because the gold in his eyes is intense, pinning you to your spot. His mouth is set in a straight, firm line. He looks like he means fucking business.

You avert your gaze. You’ve never admitted defeat like this, but if Azriel can wear his scars so proudly, maybe you can too.

“I tore my ACL a few months ago.” You admit, sniffling. You can feel the shock in Azriel’s gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s the first person at this school outside of your coach who’s hearing it. You’ve never been so vulnerable, especially with someone you hardly know. You press on nonetheless. “It’s been fine up until now.” A white lie. “But it’s been a little sore since I started practicing my jumps again.”

“How many months is ‘a few’?” He questions, and he’s not going to like the answer, so you opt for brushing over it.

“I’ll go back to seeing my therapist,” you offer instead, but even you’re not too sure how much truth your words hold.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Azriel says, and you don’t want his sympathy, but you’re too exhausted for your usual anger to stir to life. “You need to take care of yourself, before it gets any worse.”

His sentiment has your nose stinging, eyes prickling once again. What the fuck is wrong with you these days? Get it together, girl. You can cry in your own room, not in front of the hot boy who’s helping you with your godsdamned shoes.

You drag your gaze back to his. “I will.” You think.

He studies you for a moment before nodding, accepting your answer whether he believes it or not. You don’t have it in yourself to care right now. No, you just want to be back in the safety of your dorm.

Azriel is even more careful removing this skate and helping you slip into your shoes. He makes quick work of his own, and while his head is down, you admire his stature. Broad shoulders and chest that tapers into a tight waist, an ass for days.

You’re not done drooling over him when he stands, offering you a hand.

You slip your palm into his, ignoring the electricity that zips down your arm. You’re hyperaware of him by your side, and it’s only when he’s absolutely sure that you’re steady on your feet that he drops your hand.

You try not to feel too disappointed at the loss.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” Azriel offers, and you trail him from the arena, your heart feeling a bit fuller with the nickname.

_________________________________________

Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13

[chasingfictions]

that episode literally had everything. ive been so caught up with lottienat textually fucking and shauna beating lottie to a bloody pulp and coach ben death spiral dream and shauna clutching dead baby and shauna begging for ghost jackie and therapist confirmed fake and taivan kiss and taivan matching dyke outfits and van terminal diagnosis and tai wedding ring taking off and shauna's callie breakdown to lottie and tai confiding in lottie twice in two timelines and misty interacting with natalie and misty talking ben down from death that i forgot about CALIGULA TWIN PEAKS FEVER DREAM SENSORY DEPRIVATION POOL DANCE NUMBER MUSICAL THEATER THERAPY FEATURING HUMAN CALIGULA IN A HUGE BIRD SUIT

[mayasaurusss]

haii I can request modern lottie headcanos ?

Shy: modern jock Lottie

Warnings: Jock (but also nerdy?) Lottie, Lottie is a loser-virgin, use of every single cliche in the book, for the sake of the story let's pretend they have this instant chemistry moment, fluff fic, humorous writing, not proof read, the author regrets begin born.

A/N: hey anon, remeber when I said I had an idea and wanted to make this a oneshot instead of a headcanon? Well, I completley forgot my idea and this brewed in my head last minute, so I tried to put this thing thogeter. This story isn't very good but I hope you will like it!

Lottie is one of the most popular girls in school. She is on the soccer team, she is rich and she is beautiful, men and women alike fall to their feets for her attention. She simply has to get to the top of everything, whether it is school or soccer, making the ones around her jealous of her or to be her. Lottie is tough, both in body and spirit: during practice she manages to get going for hours, even when her teammates are tired. During exams, she remembers almost everything she studied and only a few times she has failed, due to laziness and too much faith in her abilities. She has told herself to never slack off ever again and so she continues practicing after school in her backyard, no matter if it's freezing or raining or just a bad day, she pushes her body to the limit almost every day. She studies hours on hours on hours, just after her endless practice, till midnight; sometimes she consumes her dinner while studying for her next exam. Lottie has virtually no time for herself anymore, but she knows it's her fault. She knows that she does this to appease her father's wishes for her life and that she will never make him proud. She tells herself that she's ok, that she can continue doing this without repercussions.

She is on fire today, she has just passed one of the most difficult tests of the year without breaking a sweat attracting to herself the envy of various people -and Natalie's-, had successfully exposed a presentation in class -"How cults can change people psyche", by Lottie Matthews-, and now is practicing, having just scored a goal after being chased by Taissa and making her repeatedly taking her to the ground. Lottie is triumphant, sweat coating her skin and a smile gracing her lips, the same smile that made people develop crushes for her. "Ok team, I want you to try and score a goal, Lottie, Taissa and Van, you guys try to stop them, ok?" Coach Ben says.

Lottie moves to her place near Taissa, ignoring the looks the girl gives her, Van behind the, waiting for the ball. When the coach blows the whistle, the teams move: Shauna passes the ball to Mari, in a fake attempted attack from right, trying to get past Taissa, the ball is passed to Laura Lee who has already run across the field enough to not be worried about Taissa. The only obstacles left between her and the goal are Lottie and Van. The latter won't be a problem, when Laura will kick the ball from the underside angle, sending it to the far corner of the net; the real problem is Lottie. The girl is tall and strong enough to turn the situation to her favor and virtually leave Laura's and the rest of the team empty handed. And, to top it all off, she's on fire today. So, Laura Lee devises a plan: as soon as Lottie will corner her, she will fall back and kick the ball as high as she can, attempting to send it through the net. Lottie will not budge, she thinks, -"She is too smart to fall for this..."- but she will at least attempt to try.

Lottie has stayed still until now, determined to be the one to stop her teammates. Her muscles tighten, ready to strike, until her attention is on someone else, someone on the seats.

There are quite a few people here besides you and your friends. They had invited you to watch the Yellowjackets practice, more in particular to watch the Yellowjackets practice. You have sat in the nearest line to the field, wanting to crawl out of your seat whenever one of your friends made a loud remark about one of the girls. "Like, oh my God look at Natalie '' Hayley sighs dreamily, "I want to make sexy pottery with her '' Jessica scoffs at her "Say what you want about Natalie. Have you looked at coach Ben? He is so hot!" she says while twirling a strand of her hair. "I think he's gay Jessica..." she gasps "How would you know? The other day I saw him handing to Travis a bunch of condoms, he must like girls!", "That's not how it works Jessica..." you argue with her "Shut up," she scoffs at you. You turn your head away from her to avoid her anger, looking towards the field as you see number seven -Lottie, that must be her name- moving in position to defend the net. "...and how would you know? Your life is so boring, you never even had a relationship yet!"eyes scanning her face up and down, you look at Jessica ``I haven't but at least I don't drool for every human beginning in school" you remark at her, earning a glare that could kill.

"Shut up! Stupid asshole..." your eyes return to the soccer field, now focused back on the players: you see Lottie staring at you, her eyes never leaving yours even for a split second, you and your friends must've been loud for her attention to be on anything else other than practice. Neither you or her break eye contact, both in an almost hypnotic state, so, neither you or her notice Laura Lee screaming out for her teammate.

The second Lottie refocuses back on the game, the ball hits her face at full speed; Lottie stumbles back holding her nose, blood flowing freely from it, she loses her footing and falls on the ground. "Fuuuck!'' The team rushes to their friend, Laura Lee is profusely apologizing while trying to hold her best friend who isn't in the right mood to be manhandled. Coach Ben kneels next to Lottie and inspects her face: on the bridge of the nose, right where the ball has hit her, Lottie has a small red bump and her nose seems to be slightly pushed to the left side. "We need to take the infirmary..." he states and helps Lottie up, before Misty can get her hands on her classmate's face and cause more damage. She walks back with Ben with shame, and when she looks back to see you worried over her, she can't bring herself to look at you.

At the infirmary, she gets a pack of cold ice and after one hour, the nurse, a middle aged old woman who looks like she's done with life, walks over to her and takes away the ice pack. Her hands move and test around Lottie's nose, manhandling her -she looks like a small scared child-. "Take a deep breath with your mouth...", she's confused as hell but does so, feeling the nurse's hands move again on her nose, "...and don't panic". -What?- the nurse's fingers block her nose and push strongly to the right side, readjusting the bone. Lottie lets out a banshee-like scream "Fuck me!" and she hold her face, muffling her scream in her hands, "Don't move too much or you could crook it again". Her fingers move across the nose skin, it definitely hurts but now she can breathe again: the nose still has a small red bump at the middle of its length. "Yeah, that's not going away", the nurse says while arranging some things in a box, "What?".

Her father had wanted to sue both the nurse and Laura Lee's family as soon as he saw how his daughter's nose looked, but with some convincing, Lottie had managed to make his anger drop. Today, some time after the whole fiasco, Shauna has come to pick her up for school, usually she would use her father's limo but today she felt like beginning with a friend -and exploiting her a bit- than with the old decrepit driver her father hired. As soon as she enter Shauna's car, the other girl lets out a small pained hiss at Lottie's nose. "...Is it that noticeable...?", Shauna let's out a small hum and moves uncomfortably under Lottie's dark gaze. "I mean... I see it because I was there, but it's not tha-" Shauna is interrupted by Lottie's frustrated sigh and cries. "God! This is just what I needed..." she mutters into her hand, Shauna drops her hand on her friend's shoulder "Come on...It's not that bad, no one will notice". Lottie moves to look at Shauna, her eyes are tearful, "That's literally the first thing you noticed about me today". A gulp travels down Shauna's throat "Uhm..." the taller girl looks her dead in the eyes "This is the part where you, as a friend, would comfort me". The car engine starts, Shauna lets out a embarassed cough while she starts to move the car "...Let's go".

"Ouch..." Taissa says to her while munching her sandwich, the whole soccer team is in the cafeteria for lunch, Lottie had been the last one to join the team 'cause her classes ended later, of course that would involve her not-so-glorious entrance in the room, where everyone had looked at her weird or with pity. "Laura Lee hasn't come today...She's feeling pretty guilty for what she's done. I think this will stay inside her little fanatic brain for a while" Taissa laughs while exchanging a kiss with Van, "And she's right. If I were you, Lottie, I would have punched her in the face ages ago" Natalie barges in the conversation. "Changing topic, tonight there's a party. At Randy's' ' the blonde girl mutters while focused on rolling something that Lottie is pretty sure isn't a normal cig, "I don't know if I'll be there... I don't feel really good". Natalie lets out a scoff, momentarily messing up her rolling before continuing again, "Come on Lottie, It's only a party. Besides, your 'little incident' is not that visible ''. Taissa stares at Natalie with a look that says 'Really?' , "Geez, how about some fucking decency Natalie?" she spats out receiving a roll of eyes from the other girl "The point is, going to a party won't be that big of a deal". Everyone seems to turn to Lottie, waiting for her response, "...Ok".

Night has come, and with it, Lottie's uneasiness. The party had proved to be a lot more crowded than she imagined, it was packed with people who were beginning to drink by the time the Yellowjackets had come. Jackie had placed her hand on Lottie's shoulder, stroking it reassuringly "Don't worry Lottie, we won't go anywhere" and for a split second, Lottie had believed her and smiled reproaching the smile, before she had looked away -for one fucking second-, and all of her team had left to so their things: Taissa and Van had two red cups in their hands and were flirting to one angle of the room, Jackie had blindedly followed Jeff somewhere with Shauna trailing behind her and Natalie was gone to God knows where, probably doing drugs with those toxics of her friends. So, as she had been sure all this time, Lottie was alone. A sigh escaped her lips, her brows furrowing in annoyance and creating a small wrinkle between them, and worry showing in her eyes. She makes a bee line to the kitchen, finding it almost empty except for a drunk couple in one of the dark corners; on the table amidst all the discarded red cups and leftover foods, sits a clear glass bowl of red-blood punch with some ice and a slice of orange floating in. Lottie takes one of the clean cups and fills it to the brim with alcohol. She drinks her worries away feeling the liquid heat her from within, before she knows she has gulped down half of it. Her hands search for her cigarettes in her jeans pocket, finding only a few left: taking one she holds it between her lips but realizes she has forgotten her lighter at home, "As if this night couldn't be any worse...".

When you walk into the kitchen, you see the same girl who yesterday almost got half of her face blown off -Lottie, you remind yourself-.

She's dressed in high waisted dark gray jeans, a long sleeved black shirt and a pair of glasses which made her look far more nerdy than she might have intended. "Oh, hi!" she turns around so quickly that some of the liquid spills out of the cup and pours on her fingers, but she doesn't seem to care all that much, all her attention is on you. "H-Hi...!". Walking over to her, you smile "You are Lottie right? You got pretty hurt some time ago, huh?", gulping down dryly her eyes focused on your lips resting on the cup ridge "Uhhhh, uh, ehm, yes yeas, yeah that's me...". Eyes hazy and unfocused, she doesn't hear you calling out for her "...ttie. Lottie? Earth calls to Lottie, are you there?" she jolts up a second, straighten her spine and avoids to look you in the eye. "Uh, yeah I'm here, just a little distracted" her throat clears and she lets out a small laugh. You look at her, you notice the way she seems to be around you: gone is the confident jock from the soccer team, all that's left of her is a girl who's too shy to talk without stuttering every few seconds. "Say, would you like to get to know each other?" her throat clears before she nods her head slightly with a little smile. "So, what do you like to do, you know, besides soccer?" you lean on the table while sipping on the punch, "Well, I like partying, usually, and -you know- soccer is all my life. I play the guitar sometimes..." your gasp interrupts her, "You'll have to let me hear something one day!". Lottie tells you more about her life: she tells you about her father and mother, about how she's always alone in that big cold house of hers, about how she likes the soccer team a lot -except Jackie sometimes- and of her love for teen dramas, especially Dawson's Creek.

The alcohol starts to make your body heat, she looks so good under dimmed lights; you sip down the last drops of the alcohol and throw the empty cup on the table, slightly scaring Lottie. "Would you like to dance?" her eyes move to yours and shakes her head in approval "Of course!" you take her cup and set it on the table, placing your hand on hers and leading her to the living room.

The room is lit by red light, the music is so loud it makes her heart jump in her chest, but Lottie can barely hear it over the loud beating of her heart in her ears. You get close to her body and feel its heat, how her skin shivers when you touch her a little too long and how she can't even place her shaky hands on you. Everything is slow, heated, the red lights paint Lottie in a way you haven't seen before; you lock eyes with her and for a moment, you feel the need to kiss her, even if you have known her only for a few hours. You get closer to her, so much so that you can feel the raspiness of her breath when you eye her lips. It isn't surprising then when, in the euphoria you're both experiencing, you don't hear the heavy steps of someone getting closer to you.

You get yanked from Lottie's grip, someone spins you around until you've met with his face again. "What the fuck are you doing?!" he snaps at you, his brows are furrowed and he looks even more of a rabid dog than when you left him. "Hello Brandon..." he grips your arms tighter, bruising your skin underneath; his breath is on your face,reeking of alcohol. "Hello'? What the fuck are you doing with this bitch?!" he starts to tug you around, all the while continuing to spit in your face insults.

As soon as he lets go of you Lottie reaches out and manhandles you behind her; a stern look appears on her face. "Hey, what's your problem?" she looks him up and down, studying him "My problem is you, and people like you" he spats out. "Like me?" she can feel her blood pressure rising, his implication not missed by Lottie.

Brandon's friends are near him, some giggle but others are trying to hold him down from exploding further. "Yeah, people like you and this bitch over here" he gestures at you with a nod, he seems to get even more red than he was before, almost looking rabid, "What the fuck are you talking about?".

Brandon seems to have been pushed over the edge, a wild look in his eyes, he sweats and screams on Lottie's face "You fucking faggots! You gross shit! Scum like you shouldn't even exist!" people are gathering now near, the music seems to almost have gone silent, flashes and giggles surround you. Lottie grips your hand tight, so tight that it hurts, "Lottie..." she turns around, her other hand placed on your hip and starts to lead you out of the party.

"Let's go" her voice wavering: for a split second, she saw her father spilling insults at her after she had told what she really was. "Yeah you better go! We don't want disgusting shits like you around here" Brandon is held back by his friends when he attempts to chase after you.

Through her clouded mind, Lottie doesn't miss Brandon's next words "You aren't even that good at soccer, I bet your father is really proud of his shitty disgusting lizzie daughter". Lottie feels her knuckles crush bone beneath them, and regains her consciousness, realizing she had punched Brandon right on the nose, in the exact same way she was hit the day's priors. He falls on his ass in the middle of his friend group, spurting insults and imprecations at you and Lottie. Before you can look at him, you're tugged out of the party. You run with Lottie, both with the fear that he might get out of his friend's grapes and follow you; you run across the small patch of woods just outside of Randy's house.

The night is lit by countless stars in the sky, wind blows through the trees and inside of your heart an euphoric feeling blooms. When you end up at the other side of the trees, in a clearance, you start to laugh at your heart's content; your laugh is so contagious that it starts to affect Lottie too -who previously was looking at you like you were mad- making her let out chuckles of her own.

You hold on to her, much like you did when you were at the party, she hides her face into your neck while still giggling: you start to notice the position you're in, her breath hitches when she notices how close you are and -more importantly- where her face is. Dark eyes reflect the night sky, she looks at you with something akin to adoration for a second, before she composes herself and let go of you, clearing her throat. "So ummm... who was that guy?" you rethink about the events of the night and -trying not to think- about how good Lottie looks right now. "He was my ex-boyfriend. He has been going a bit crazy since I broke up with him. I told him I... liked girls and he has been bothering me ever since I left him" Lottie let's out a small 'oh' of approval, taking in all that you said. "So... you like girls" she hums in thought; you inadvertently let out a laugh "Of course! I thought it was pretty obvious from how I was looking at you". Her face becomes beet red -'Shit, I looked so stupid! Why did I asked that?!'-, she scratches the back of her head while averting your gaze. Her hand is held by yours, she follows your movement and when she turns around, she's met with your lips on hers. She can't move the lips back, too stunned by your action to reciprocate the kiss but just when you thought of pulling away -'maybe she doesn't like me'- you feel her hands cupping your cheeks and deepening the kiss. -'Whoa... sparks...'- she thinks while deepening the kiss even more, it feels like millions of little light sparks shine on you and her. She's so close you can barely breathe, the air itself feels intoxicating, this is just too good to be true. When you pull away, both of you are blushing and messy, she looks amazing under the moonlight: hair messy, glasses slightly sliding to the side, skin so red and eyes watery. "Wow... this feels very... romantic..." she sighs into your neck, holding your chest to hers "We should do this more often..." you kiss her again, giddy, holding onto her neck "We definitely should!".

Something moves in the bushes rapidly, making both of you jolt up in fear that your ex might've catched up, Lottie is already ready to throw another punch, just when from the darkness between the trees, the Yellowjackets appear, all of them. "G-God!" an echo of 'oooh's' rise up from the group, Van begins the lead of them "Oh so that's what you were doing Lottie! We feared you got into a fight!". Van gets closer to you two, throwing her arm around Lottie's shoulders "Are you gonna introduce your 'friend' to us?", the taller girl puffs out a breath in annoyance "Oh fuck off!".

[alcqraz]

★ summary — small little drabble of spending a lazy morning with ben

˖˙ ꔫ —★★★★ pairing: ben shelton x fem!reader ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★ content warnings. n/a ˖˙ ꔫ —★★ word count. 922.... ˖˙ ꔫ —★ genre. fluff.

★ authors note: for wes because her horny ass would not let me off the hook until i finished this. shout out to the tennis groupchat that i'm in that helped me out because they're all clinically insane about ben.

❛⠀⠀ requested by anon! idk who to tag

I feel like Ben would be the type of person who enjoys sleeping in. Not all the time, obviously, definitely not during tournaments, or the days leading up to tournaments- but those days where he can have you to himself, without the worry of his coach or team barging in at any given moment. Without the worry of the upcoming match, and the result that would unfold within in.

You'd wake up next to him, the little crack from the curtain that he forgot to close entirely assaulting your vision as the sun rises from the hills above. Grumbling to yourself of your boyfriends inability to close the curtains fully, because of course he wouldn't.

Ben, however, seems not to be disrupted from his slumber by the aggravating light that danced across the warm-lit room. He's off somewhere in la-la land, sleeping on his stomach, shirt discarded carelessly upon the floor. His head is tilted to the right- looking towards you, and for once he looks... peaceful. His eyes are fluttered shut, a soft smile or sorts stretched upon his lips.

Despite it being (technically) his fault as to why you were unable to fully sleep in, you can't help but to admire the view that had been placed in front of you. He always looked good, you were very much aware of that, but now- he looked cuter, adorable even. However, you were not to suffer alone at this time of morning. If you were awake, he damn sure as well should be too.

Slowly creeping upon him, your hands gently trace amongst the muscles that lined his toned back. Fingers caressing the warm skin from being under the covers for so long. He shifts in his sleep, mumbling something incomprehensible as the movement slowly jolts him awake, like soft waves rippling throughout a greater vast of ocean.

It takes a moment, Ben ostensibly slower and unhurried during the mornings where he had no actual duties to worry of. His eyes flutter open, dark eyes adjusting to the new found lighting of the luminous morning. His eyes are hazed with a sense of blur, mind confused for a beat of a second as he blinks slowly, pushing away the daze of being woken up.

You'd whisper to him- perhaps a good morning, or a soft hello that he loved to hear more than anything, your voice a seeking comfort he enjoyed having within his presence. It's only then does he recall the situation, that he finally, finally gets to fall asleep and wake up next to you. His lips curl into a stupid grin, eyes wrinkling as he does so. He's suddenly wide awake, or at least, more coherent than he was an instance ago.

He'd mumble a good morning, baby as he always did. Pivoting himself onto his back so he can get a better look of you, features tainted with a look that could only be described as pure affection. His fingers come up to brush against the side of your face, before laying upon the soft skin that laced your jaw. Ben pulls you in, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips, before leaning in for something more. He kisses all over, as he always did when he could have you all alone. Your lips, your forehead, the spot within your neck that made you squirm. He wanted you all, and he was going to have you.

But it wasn't how it would be of the many times before. Where the desire pooled in his lower stomach, reaching between his pants. It was not rushed nor full of lust, it was not a race for the finish line, but a need to worship you because fuck, how did he ever get so lucky?

His hands would trail all over, wherever he could get you, kissing you slowly whilst his fingers tangle into your hair, another resting upon your waist. It's deliberate and languid, breathing softly when he finally pulls away for a breath of air. Ben doesn't pull far away though, his lips just barely an inch away from yours. And god, he feels as if the wind has been knocked out of his lungs, the sight of you so beautiful and intoxicating. You're like a drug, an addicting one for that fact which he could never get over. He never wanted to get over.

He gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, eyes glazy as if he were looking at the center of the universe. Perhaps, you were his universe. He'd murmur, hushed words that were only for you, ones that no one else would ever get to know. Unable to leave his touch, you lean in once again, sensually yet delicately.

On the days like these, he finds it inexplicably hard to keep his hands off of you. Needing to keep you close, touching you at least in some sort of way. You'd tease him about it, of course, as anyone would, but in all honesty, it was nice to feel so wanted by someone.

And wanted, you were. Ben had it in him, knew all the ways he could make you feel like the only woman in the world, even during the most random of situations. He'd whisper to you, lips tracing just over your ear lobe, hair tickling across the sector of your face of how lucky he was to have you.

You can't help but to think that at the end of the day; you were the lucky one all along.

[thatsdemko]

they want us to be - m.mount

masterlist

pairing: Mason mount x fem!reader

warnings: angst + me having a lack of knowledge of the transportation systems of Europe

a/n: yeah I’m sorry about this one..

the train ride in from London to Manchester was long and brutal. you’d think somewhere along the lines you’d just move half way in between your best friend and your current job, but moving in this economy was proven to be rather difficult. so the train it was.

the cities and empty towns pass by you in a whirl and before you know it you’re the next stop: Manchester. you’d gathered an overnight bag that feels weightless as you pick it up and move out of your seat towards the exit. you thank the man who helps you off and find his car. it doesn’t take long, it’s the most expensive one in the parking lot.

“hey!” his head snaps up from his phone, whatever it was becomes completely irrelevant once you’re in the warm car and tossing your back in front of your feet.

letting out a long sigh you take a look over at him. his hair still has patches of blond showing and the buzz cut is much shorter than you last had seen it. “hey,” you let out finally. leaning over the center counsel you wrap your arms around him, “why’d you cut your hair?” you gently run your finger tips over the rough ends of his hair before he quickly pulls away, a blush creeping to his cheeks.

“you don’t like it?”

“I’ve expressed my dislikes for it many times.” you’d recall for him the last time he’d cut it short, you couldn’t look him in the eyes without laughing and you’d think he’d learned his lesson that the look wasn’t meant for him, yet without your supervision Mason still went ahead and did so.

“yeah well you’re not my girlfriend so you don’t make the calls.” his bitter tone shuts you up. you result back into looking out the window much like you did the whole train ride here. was this how it was going to be?

LAST TIME | Manchester

“come on, come on! say it again, please.” you laugh, your body leans forward against the wooden table tops as you wait for masons giggle fit to end before he turns serious and does his best impression of his coach on the sidelines.

“you’re getting really good at it.” you lie, or maybe it was flirting. the alcohol in your system had you looking at Mason differently than normal, and it’s not you to blame when he wears a tight black shirt and grey sweatpants that could have any girl swooning in admiration of his biceps.

“am I? I only learn from the best impersonator myself.” he gestures to you in front of him, “give me your best Ben impression, I forgot what he sounds like.”

“you chatted with him on the phone two hours ago!”

it’s his turn to lean in, his hands pressed against the cool table tops as he watches you take a swig from your pint of beer, “and I’ve seemingly forgotten what he sounds like! come on, do it!”

rolling your eyes you give him what he wants and a roar of laugher escapes from him. the sound fills your heart and makes your chest feel fuzzy and your head starts to spin. was this what it felt like to fall in love? was the feeling of falling supposed to be this intoxicating?

“is it crazy I miss London?” he looks up from the empty pint in front of him, his hands awkwardly cup the glass trying to find anything to occupy the numbness in his chest when he mentions his previous home. while Manchester was beautiful and different, you didn’t live here. you lived a train away and that killed him.

“I don’t think it’s crazy, mase. this was a big change— and may I mention a good change.” you reach across the table, your sweaty palm touches the back of his hand and pulls his attention away from the table.

“I guess I just miss you.”

oh. you feel a tightness in your chest as you pull your hand away and sink against the back of the chair.

“I shouldn’t of said that I’m sorry—“

“no. don’t apologize.” you cut him off, “I miss you too.”

a relief washes over his face to hear the words back. there’d been plenty of new friends and faces for him to kindle a connection with, but no one could hold a candle to what you two had. there was an undeniable chemistry that sparked since your teen years and carried on, it’s what made you two inseparable despite the commute.

“I’m sorry, I’m being like the worst drunk ever.”

you shake your head. reaching your hand across the table again, “don’t say that. come on, let’s just go to bed? maybe we just need sleep.” you suggest and he agrees. he trails behind you into his master bedroom that’s practically untouched. the space is so clean and barely lived in, it’s almost uncomfortable to look at.

“will you sleep with me? I don’t think I can be alone right now.” his finger tips grab a hold of your hand, the warmth sends a shock wave through your body making you turn in his direction. he’s standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his large body blocks you from seeing the rest of the room as his eyes plea for your attention.

“mase, that’s dangerous.” you warn. the last time you’d slept in the same bed was the same night he’d gracefully taken your virginity and ever since then you could never see him naked without your ovaries having a reaction to him.

he wets the bottom of his lip with his tongue, his beautiful brown eyes are glassy and convincing, you press your lips against his for a brief second, “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

“can’t you stay with me forever?” he whispers half jokingly but half serious. you pretend you don’t hear him and just climb into his bed while he undresses himself.

“I mean what I said. I want you with me forever.”

NOW | Manchester

“pint or glass?”

“glass.” you say setting your things down into the living room and waiting for Mason to come back in. you stare out the large floor to ceiling windows out at the city. the grey clouds and dark skies feel different here, in London you felt safer from the storms, but here? there was something chilling about the look.

“how’s Ben? anything new happening with Chelsea?” he moves into the living room and sets your glass down on a coaster. he takes the seat closest to where you’re standing and watches your eyes move from cloud to cloud and person to person.

“joão left.”

“so I’ve been told.” he says making your head turn in his direction and offer him a small smile before taking the seat next to him.

“but Bens good, he just moved into my building.”

a shocked expression lights his face making you snort, “what? you’re surprised we get along now?”

he nods his head enthusiastically, “yes! it took months for you two to get along!”

“months?! I’d say weeks, he always had a problem with me.”

it’s masons turn to snort making you give him a look of surprise, “he just had a thing for you and then he realized you only like me so he gave up.”

you fight the urge to tell him it wasn’t true. you fight the urge to tell him the reason Ben moved in was because he was with you. the reason you couldn’t stay with Mason forever was because Ben chilwell was your idea of forever.

“well I think he still has a thing for me.”

Mason rolls his eyes whipping out his phone from his pocket, “you want me to tell him off? I can tell him you still have feelings for Christian—“

“no! oh my god one time! I said one time I liked Christian for a week!” you launch your body onto his and try to fight him for the phone while he types and clearly whoever it was, it wasn’t Ben. because the person on the other end responded faster than your boyfriend actually would.

“who are you actually texting?” you press, a cheeky grin on your face, “come on, I know it’s a girl none of your mates respond that fast!”

he puts his hands up as a white flag and admits from start to finish about the new girl he was talking to. he’d mentioned how she was awfully similar personality to yours and how he really liked her, but he fails to admit she’s not you. he likes her enough to keep things going, but she lacks the personality you have.

“I’m so happy for you.” you whisper, voice sounding breathless and a mixture of emotions settled into your chest. you’re happy for him, and this is exciting news, but why did it hurt? Ben was your boyfriend who you so dearly loved, but why was Mason moving on the worst thing you could ever hear.

you guess it’s true, maybe you two were meant to be but you’d never know until you stop loving others and love each other.

[star-girl69]

Hollow Bones

Natalie Scatorccio x Lottie Matthews x Fem!Reader

—-

sypnosis: The Antler Queen and her Prophet take notice of the lonely Yellowjacket in the corner.

a/n: au where coach ben didn’t burn down the cabin bc i’m not dealing with that ❤️ i hope you all enjoy!!

also i think i’m gonna do a part two of this but ENJOY THE YEARNING!!!!!!

warnings: cannibalism, swearing, mentions of hypothermia and death, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

To you, the wilderness has become a sort of home. If you forgot about the startling cold, the blinding hunger, and the rolling fear in your stomach- it was a peaceful place.

Especially in the summer, when you could sit outside and hear the leaves rustle with the scurrying of chipmunks and squirrels and know that food was at arms length. You think about that summer a lot now.

You think about the sun while you sit in the corner of the cabin, watching the other girls hug each other and laugh for warmth.

You think about the food when you’re patiently waiting in line for your scrap of meat. And while you ate the feast in front of you that was once a living breathing girl.

It’s not surprising that someone built a cabin out here. It’s quiet, besides for the wind and your breath.

It’s cold out here, even the wood of the porch you sit on, your converse digging into the deep snow in front of you, listening to your breath and the wind. You never attended one of Lottie’s ceremonies, feeling a little awkward every time you thought about it. But the sentiment was calming.

You had only joined soccer when you were little because your mom forced you. You faked sick to try and get out of it, but your mother thought your shyness was only something to break. And once everyone figured out you had a natural talent, you were placed front and center onto the field. And the more you grew, the more serious the teams were, the more you were valued.

And then it was easy to be in the center of the field- because you knew you wouldn’t fuck it up. You couldn’t. Something in your blood.

You sighed and stared at the bucket next to your feet, filled with things you didn’t want to look at.

With Crystal gone, and everyone’s newfound respect for Misty, the task of emptying the bucket had fallen to you.

You were good on the field. But much too shy to really form any real connections with the girls that could be useful out here.

And as you pick up the bucket, the cold metal sinking into your palm, leaving red marks, you remember that no matter how peaceful and beautiful the trees and the snow are, you’re still starving and cold. You still hate this place with everything in your body.

—-

In this place with no rules, you had made your own, and Natalie had become the master of them. The Queen.

In the weeks following the hunt and Javi’s death, the food in your stomachs, she had only solidified her reign until everyone looked to her without question. Sometimes it even felt like the only reason winter was here because she made it.

Even when they were at odds, Natalie and Lottie had still held a lot of love for each other.

Lottie had been something of a prophet before, and now that she had passed most the power and responsibility onto Natalie, she could truly become that prophet, that spiritual being.

And whatever they had done? They were good at it.

The snow crunched under your feet, and every bad moment in the place had been accompanied by that sound. No matter how beautiful the snow was, you were surrounded by it, suffocated by it and it’s frigid coldness.

Today was the day that most of the girls had been sent out to trifle through the woods, looking for any wood you can use to build up the fire. You had quickly peeled away from the rest of the groups that had formed, going off on your own.

You had already collected a good pile, and were making your way back to the cabin, feet crunching in the snow, singing songs in your head to keep you occupied. It was easy to wonder if you would ever hear a song again.

One thick branch rolls off from the pile in your arms.

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to figure out how to grab it without letting the rest of your pile fall to the ground. You’re thinking about leaving it when someone speaks.

“Hey,” the voice says, familiar, feminine.

You look around, your eyes tracing over the familiar fallen logs, the land, the girl crouching next to the tree stump where they had tried to murder Travis, wrapping a piece of cloth around her hand.

Blood in the snow.

“Sorry,” you mutter, looking between Natalie and Lottie. You feel a little guilty intruding on them. Even though they still dress the same as you, they still hold so much power, they’re still in a relationship, and you have no idea what they were doing out here. “I… I’m just trying to get back to the cabin.”

Natalie smiles, like she has this entire exchange, and nods to the right. “Cabin’s that way. You’re not with anyone?”

You almost wonder if she’s talking to you.

“Oh. No, no. I’m fine.”

She takes a step forward, still smiling in a way that makes your stomach flip, leaning down in front of you and grabbing the fallen branch.

“Sure,” she says sarcastically, carefully placing it back on your pile.

“Thanks,” you say, smiling politely before turning towards the cabin. You can feel two pairs of eyes on you as you walk back.

—-

After you came back to the cabin, your cheeks aching from the cold, your hands red from the weight of the branches sticking into you at odd places- throbbing from your palm, a splinter lodged right into the center.

You sigh, sick of the throbbing, sitting by the front window for the light, trying to get the tiny thing out of you. You know you’re sitting on the bench that Lottie claimed long ago. But it’s the only one by the window, and you can’t see in the rest of the dark cabin.

You’re so focused on trying to get out the splinter, almost about to cry in frustration, your brows furrowing together, so you don’t notice the door open. Don’t notice anyone coming back, until Lottie is sitting right next to you.

She looks at your palm, studying it, and you look up.

“Sorry,” you say, referring to how much space you’re taking up on the bench that’s come to be known as hers.

She shrugs. “Need any help?”

And after a moment, you nod anc put your hand into hers. No one had any sense to bring tweezers to nationals, so all you had was your fingers. Lottie’s nail’s were sharper and longer than yours. Maybe she could get a good grip.

She tries a fails a few times, and you watch, just waiting, feeling her skin on yours and feeling how nice this silence is, how nice it is to touch someone and be with someone.

Before this, you can’t even remember the last time someone touched you.

Finally, it slides out slowly, and she flicks the tiny thing onto the floor. You smile immediately at the relief, feeling your stomach flip as she grabs your hand and pulls it up to her face, making sure she got all of it-

She looks up at you with such a blinding smile you feel a little dizzy.

You’re not stupid. You have eyes. Lottie Matthews is beautiful… but she looks like a star in this moment.

“All gone,” she says, and you’re breathless, thanking her, feeling eyes on you.

—-

It’s been snowing all day. Enough so that everyone is stuck inside, enough so it’s freezing cold, enough to make everyone feel a little like they’re dying.

Snow is just another reminder that each day you’re here, you’re not there. Life is passing you by, like you’re frozen in it.

You’re missing college, where every adult in your life said you would come out of your shell, first boyfriend, first party, first everything. College was where your life was supposed to happen.

Instead, you’re here in the beautiful, cruel forest.

Boredom is slowly overtaking your mind, and without chores to do, all you can do is lean against the wall and stare out into nothing. The voices of the girls playing games, Truth of Dare, 3 Truths and a Lie, fading into the background.

“Hey, Y/N?” Gen asks. You look up, not sure what to expect from her. She seems a little sheepish. “Uh… the bucket is full. And… it’s your job.” She twists her hands together, making a point not to look at the windows.

But you look over at the windows, the snow whipping around. It’s nothing like the snowstorm all those weeks ago. And it’s not as bad as it was before.

“…Okay,” you say after a moment, gauging that you’ll be fine if you walk quick and keep your hood up.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she says, and you simply stand up, letting your blanket fall from your shoulders, a little excited to get out of this stuffy cabin.

You walk past everyone and towards the back, past Lottie and Natalie who sit together at the table in the back.

“Where are you going?” someone asks. You turn around and look at Natalie and Lottie, about to lean down and pick up the bucket.

Natalie seems to be cleaning the rifle, which is spread out over the table, taken apart, and Lottie just sits next to her.

How nice would that be? You think before you can stop yourself. How nice would it be to have company like that?

“Uh, the bucket. It’s full. And it’s my job to empty it, so…” you trail off, watching as Natalie scoffs. She looks towards the window. The snow.

“No,” she says after a moment. “You can’t go out there in that.” You feel a little bad for Gen, and you stand a little straighter.

“It’s not that big of a deal, I’m sure I’ll be fine if I just walk quick-”

Lottie smiles, a little in disbelief, and gestures towards the window. “No one is going to the cliff in that, Y/N.”

And your face must reveal how shocked and confused you are, because Natalie sighs and gestures for you to sit down in front of her. You do, after a moment, resting your hands on the table so you won’t start biting your fingernails or anything stupid.

“Listen,” she says. “You spend a lot of time outside, which is fine, but… you’re getting sick. You feel it? You can’t go out there in this. You can’t go out there at all, not until you get a little more color in your cheeks, until you just… get a little warmer.”

Lottie reaches across the table and wraps her hand around your wrist. You almost gasp in shock, so long since someone touched you so fast and so much, pressing your hand to your face.

“Feel how cold you are,” she says in that apathetic voice, emotionless, the one she’s adopted out here. You think about her yelling, laughing, cheering on the field.

When you look at the girl across from you, you can’t imagine her doing that.

And when you feel your own skin, how cold it is, how you’re freezing and dying right in front of everyone, and you can’t imagine the girl you are right now running across a field.

“Oh,” you mumble, and her hand falls, and yours with it. She squeezes your hand before letting go.

“Just get warm,” Natalie says finally. As if that’s easy to do.

—-

The next time Mari came around with the cards to pick the chores, a task which had gotten grim in the past few weeks since the hunt, she doesn’t hold out the cards for you.

“Lottie told me you’re gonna make sure the fire is going, and helping with the cooking.” She looks you up and down. “Don’t know why, but.” But she won’t disobey them.

“Okay,” you say simply, looking over at Natalie and Lottie at the table, who are talking in hushed tones, and they’re looking at you.

—-

And this is how it goes for the next few days. You sit by the fire, and when it goes low you put another log in it. You help Mari cook dinner, cutting up meat you pretend isn’t what you know it is, mixing it together with the last of the plants. Watching as it cooks over the fire, them watching you.

When they held a ritual one night, everyone cutting their palms, dripping blood onto a bone skull, Natalie had grabbed your hand in hers, cupping it so softly with her warm skin that you couldn’t even feel sick at the feeling of the knife dragging through your skin, the blood coming forth.

And if anyone noticed how small a cut she had made, if anyone had noticed how little blood you contributed, mo one said anything. No one could, not with you standing there like a deer in headlights, Natalie wrapping up your palm herself.

You spent late nights staring at the ceiling, knowing they were just above you in the attic, holding each other and sleeping soundly, warmer than you. Why did they take such an interest in you? Why did they watch you?

Your bones are cold and hollow, and you have nothing to give besides the scraps of yourself. You’re cold and cold and that’s all you’ll ever feel until you finally freeze in the corner of the cabin, away from the fire, alone.

The days are warm by the fire, Lottie and her window fo your back, the sun pouring in, but every night you’re freezing. Natalie told you to just get warm. But you can’t, not at night, not all alone, so far away from the fire.

And the more you feel their eyes on you, and the more you can’t imagine a life without their eyes on you, the more you just want them to take away the coldness in your bones.

You and Mari stare at the pot of water, cut up rations of meat on your makeshift cutting boards, ready to be dumped in. Still, it doesn’t boil, and you let out a sigh, sitting back on your heels.

“Add another log in,” Mari says, her eyes reflecting the flames of the fire licking at the bottom of the metal pot.

You reach around to Lottie’s bench, in between her and Nat’s feet, grabbing another small log and throwing it onto the fire.

“You guys do know that a watched pot never boils, right?” Nat asks, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

“Fine,” Mari mumbles, closing her eyes and sitting back. You watch as she peeks one eye open. “No, I can’t do it,” she groans, before turning around entirely to resist the temptation.

You laugh before turning yourself, your back pressed against the warm brick, your legs stretched out straight, shoes clicking together.

You listen to Natalie and Lottie whisper more, watch Taissa and Van play some weird game with a toothpick.

“Y/N,” Lottie says suddenly, and you look up. “That splinter you got a few days ago? It healed all right?”

You’re surprised she even remembers or cares.

Her eyes meet yours, and you swallow quickly, holding out your unmarked hand. You can’t even see the puncture left behind by the splinter anymore.

“It’s fine,” you smile slightly, and she smiles too, nodding, almost pleased.

“And you’re looking at lot better,” she notes. “A little less cold,” she muses, still smiling softly in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“Yeah,” you say, staring at your legs again, content to just wait.

Natalie nudges your leg with the toe of her boot. You meet her eyes, feeling the same as when Lottie looked at you, fire in your lungs, ache in you heart. She nods towards the fire.

“It’s boiling,” she says, loud enough for Mari to hear it.

“Finally,” Mari groans, turning around and putting the meat and vegetables into the boiling water, finally turning it into some messed-up stew.

But you can’t stop looking at Natalie. Staring into her eyes. Pinned under her gaze.

And she just smiles.

You look away, finally, only to lock eyes with Lottie again.

She has that same smile.

And that’s when you realize that they know what they’ve been doing the entire time, they know what they’ve been making you feel, they’ve been doing it on purpose.

Twisting the strings like they’re the masters of some dark game, weaving a spider web full of the yearning in your heart and your hollow bones.

Then you smile back.

—-

taglist:

@emilynissangtr

[pepi1989]

Starstruck - Ben Shelton

The atmosphere backstage at the US Open was its own kind of chaotic. Between players rushing to their next match, coaches barking advice, and the constant hum of the crowds outside the stadiums, it was a whirlwind of noise and energy. Ben had just finished his warm-up and was headed toward the players’ lounge, his mind focused on his upcoming match. Or at least, it was, until he saw her.

She walked out from one of the practice courts, her tennis bag slung casually over her shoulder. Her hair was pulled back, her face still flushed from whatever grueling training she’d just finished, but she carried herself with a confidence that immediately drew his attention. Ben froze mid-step, his gaze locking on her as she moved through the hallway, completely unaware of the effect she had on him.

His heart rate, which had already been high from practice, seemed to kick into overdrive. He felt like he’d just been hit with a serve straight to the chest. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. It wasn’t just her looks, although she was stunning, it was the way she seemed so effortlessly focused, so in her element. Like she belonged there in a way that made everyone else fade into the background.

She didn’t see him, though. Her eyes were set ahead, completely engrossed in her own world. As she walked past, her shoulder brushed his, and he swore electricity shot through him. His brain scrambled to come up with something, anything, to say, but the words died in his throat. Before he knew it, she was already halfway down the hall, her footsteps light and steady as if she hadn’t just flipped his entire world upside down.

Ben stood there, still staring, until a sharp elbow nudged him in the side.

“Dude, what’s wrong with you?” Taylor Fritz’s voice snapped him out of his daze, but Ben couldn’t pull his eyes away from where she’d disappeared around the corner.

“Who…who was that?” Ben finally managed to croak out, his voice hoarse, like he’d just run a marathon.

Taylor raised an eyebrow, glancing between Ben and the direction the girl had gone. “You mean her?” he said, a knowing smirk creeping across his face. “That’s Y/N, She’s been killing it in the women's draw. You seriously don’t know her?”

Ben shook his head, still trying to process what had just happened. Y/N. The name alone made his pulse quicken. He repeated it in his head like a mantra. He couldn’t believe he’d never noticed her before, and yet now it felt like he couldn’t stop.

Taylor chuckled, clapping Ben on the shoulder. “Good luck with that, man,” he said, his tone both amused and sympathetic. “She doesn’t pay attention to anyone. Too focused on tennis, from what I hear. She’s, like, all business,never dates, never even gives anyone a second glance. Pretty much married to her career.”

Ben’s heart sank a little, but there was a flicker of determination in his chest. The idea that she didn’t pay attention to anyone just made him more intrigued. Sure, she was focused, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have space for anything, or anyone, else, right?

Still, Taylor’s words echoed in his mind as he headed off to his match. Could he really stand out to someone like her?

Hours later, Ben was exhausted. His match had been a tough one, stretching into five sets, but he’d come out victorious. As he sat in the players’ lounge afterward, towel around his neck, mind drifting, he saw her again.

She was walking into the room after her match, her eyes downcast, focused on the floor as she made her way to grab a water bottle. He watched as she sighed, the kind of tired but satisfied look of someone who’d just left everything out on the court. There was something so grounded about her, despite the pressures of the tournament.

Ben’s heart raced again, but this time, he didn’t let the moment pass. He stood up, tossing his towel onto the chair, and made his way toward her, rehearsing what he would say over and over in his head.

As she turned to leave, he gently called out, “Hey, Y/N?”

She stopped, turning around slowly, her eyes locking with his. For a second, he thought she might just walk away, completely uninterested. But instead, she stayed, blinking at him, her expression a little wary but open.

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice soft, almost shy.

Ben was momentarily thrown off. Taylor had said she didn’t pay attention to people, that she was all business. But now, face-to-face, she seemed almost…nervous.

“I-I saw your match,” Ben stammered, his nerves getting the best of him. “You played really well out there.”

Her cheeks flushed a bit, and she smiled, though she looked away quickly, like she wasn’t used to compliments. “Thanks,” she mumbled, shifting slightly on her feet. “You did too. I, uh, caught a bit of it.”

Ben’s heart soared. She watched? He swallowed his nerves, deciding now was the time. “I know you’re super focused on tennis and all,” he began, scratching the back of his neck, “but I was wondering if maybe, uh, I could get your number? You know…for after the tournament or something. We could hang out, if you’d like.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, Ben was certain she’d turn him down. She looked even shyer now, her gaze dropping to the floor again as she considered his offer. He could feel his pulse in his ears, each second stretching on like forever.

Then, to his astonishment, she nodded, her voice almost a whisper. “Yeah… sure. I’d like that.”

Ben blinked, processing her words. She said yes? He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as she was typing in her number before handing his phone back to him.

“Thanks,” he said, a little breathless, feeling like he’d just won the biggest match of his life. “I’ll text you.”

She smiled again, this time a little more relaxed, a little more genuine, before turning to leave. And as she walked away, Ben couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this tournament was shaping up to be unforgettable in more ways than one.

[i-just-drink-coffee]

Would the Yellowjackets survive the hunger games?

Jackie: No dies of something stupid like oh idk freezing to death

Mari: Gets killed just for being annoying

Van: Dies protecting Tai

Tai: Dies protecting Van

Misty: Goes to very end, but tries too much to protect Nat and ends up dying

Nat: Kills herself to die with dignity

Lottie: Also kills herself to die with dignity and also to stop having visions

Shaun: Wins

[girlypopmoomin]

Yellowjackets characters as Dracula Flow quotes

Misty: they needed a stealth soldier so I put my hands on the hibachi hot plate at Benihana and burned my fuckin fingerprints off. They will not find me.

Natalie: we smoking filtered crack you stupid piece of shit. I’ll fucking kill you.

Van: call that pussy The Matrix cuz I’m in this bitch and I can’t get out

Shauna: reach for my neck you’ll get turned into an example

Jackie: this shit ain’t nothing to me man

Tai: they must have amnesia they forgot that I’m him

Lottie: they thought they could stop a demon I’m back. The zaza got me speaking Esperanto.

Laura Lee: we smoking shit in a glass pipe blowing the lords bubbles

Travis: I balled so hard they thought I was a fuckin nutsack

Javi: last guy that ran out on the pack got choked out by some Givenchy gloves. Last thing he ever saw was the price tag on them. Slowly faded into darkness, I let the archangels take him.

Coach Ben: I’m not loyal to anybody I’m a demon. I have no loyalty for anyone. Never did, never will.

Jeff: she dropped that ass on me from an egregarious angle.

[hannahhook7744]

Ghost, What's Your Name?;

Summary: Ghost Hannah Hook starts causing mischief at Auradon Prep. Giving Auradon a hard wake up call. Trigger warnings: past child abuse and child death, allergic reactions, fainting, murder, minor violence, swearing, etc. LMK if I need to add to the list.

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

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Major Character Death

Categories:

F/M

Gen

Fandoms:

Descendants (Disney Movies)

The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz

Relationships:

Minor Doug/Evie (Disney: Descendants) - Relationship

Minor Ben/Mal (Disney: Descendants) - Relationship

Past Ben/Audrey Rose (Disney: Descendants) - Relationship

Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Characters:

Jenkins (Disney: Descendants)

Tourney Team (Disney: Descendants)

Auradon Prep Staff (Disney: Descendants)

Original Children of James Hook

Additional Tags:

Ghosts

Alternate Universe - Ghosts

pirate kids

Major Original Character(s)

Past Child Abuse

Past Child Death

Haunting

Pranks and Practical Jokes

Child Ghosts

Isle of the Lost is a Terrible Place (Disney)

United States of Auradon is Not Perfect (Disney)

Auradon Prep (Disney)

Swearing

Vandalism

Judge Claude Frollo Being Terrible (Disney)

Language: English. Series: ← Previous Work Part 3 of Ghost Hannah Hook.

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

The Dragon Cannon went off. 

Which was weird, because Taylor (Tarzan’s son and their Dragoneer) wasn't anywhere near it. Nor was Herkie (Meg and Hercules's son), who was the reserve Dragoneer. In fact, none of the players were near the thing because the team was having a water and snack break. 

Coach Jenkins squinted at the Cannon. “Did someone set that off?”

“It shouldn't be on.” Genie—who, along with Li Shang Jr, was one of the assistant coaches—frowned. “Nobody's near it… unless Taylor forgot to turn it off.”

“I didn’t!” Taylor insisted. “I turned it off, I swear!”

“Did any of you go near it?” Lil’ Shang asked, crossing his arms—trying not to grin or laugh, even though he was sorely tempted. 

There was a chorus of no coach from the group..

Suddenly, a large cold gust of wind hit them—which was more than a little unusual considering that it was nearly 80°F out—and an eerie childish giggle rang out from around them. 

“ Nope.” Emir (Aladdin and Jasmine's younger son) dropped his stick and started to walk off the field with his brother, Aziz.

Miguel (Isabella Madrigal and Bubo Marquez's son) just looked amused. “Is some little kid playing a prank on us?”

Jay groaned and stood up. Cupping his hands over his mouth. “HOOK! KNOCK IT OFF!”

William Darling (Wendy and Edward's middle child) whirled around. “Hook? Hook who?”

The eerie giggle turned into a full on gleeful laugh—a laugh that sounded like it belonged to a child far too young to be anywhere near Auradon Prep.

“Yeah, I’m with Emir and Z. Fuck this shit, I’m out!” Tyrone (Naveen and Tiana's son) held up his hands in surrender, walking off the field after Emir and Aziz.

“I'm out too!” Brendan (Charlotte La Bouff and Lars Westergaard's son) yelped, quickly running after his god brother.

Carlos sighed. “Guys, don't worry. Hannah's harmless—”

“I SAID, HOOK WHOMST?!” William yelped, swearing he felt someone tap his shoulder.

Jay roller his eyes, using his stick to pock at the space behind William. “Back, Hook! Go bother Evie.”

Carlos, on the other hand, just decided to take pity on their teammates and coaches. “Hannah Hook. Captain Hook’s youngest daughter.” 

William paled. “Shit, shit, shit. NOT TODAY SATAN!”

“Dude calm down, she's seven.” Jay rolled his eyes. “She's just bored. She's not gonna hurt anyone.”

Coach Jenkins, who had been watching the whole encounter amusedly, now decided to step in. “Jay, Carlos. I appreciate your good humor, but you’re clearly scaring your teammates. Let’s turn the noises off, now.”

The boys just gave him blank looks—neither looking amused with the situation. Just bored and, dare he even say, annoyed. 

It hit him then that they weren't joking.

“Oh, so I was right. It is just some kid.” Miguel mused, completely unphased.

“So…more Hooks escaped the Isle, then?” Jenkins rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Nope.” Jay said, popping the ‘p’ before plopping back down on the bench. 

“You guys aren't making any sense.” Herkie groaned, head in hands. 

“She's a ghost , Herkie. She's been with us in Auradon since we came here.” Carlos rolled his eyes, starting to get frustrated.

“Ghosts aren’t real.” Aiko (son of Tomiko) scowled.

“Tell that to my mama!” Tyrone yelled from beyond the field.

Suddenly, one of the bottles of water lifted into the air and was emptied on Aiko.  The laughter turning into full on cackling.

Jay swatted at the air where the bottle stood, causing it to be thrown at him. Along with the rest of it's contents. He glared at the spot where the ‘ghost’ was. “ Was that really necessary?” 

Aiko glared at Jay, whipping water from his eyes. “How did you do that, VK? Magic?”

“Jay doesn't have magic.” Carlos reminded, exasperated. 

All while Hannah kept laughing. 

The wind picking up. 

Coach Jenkins looked around, fully believing that the Hook child was hidden away in a tree somewhere. “Now, listen! I’m all for fun and games, but this prank has gone on far enough, young lady!”

The laughter stopped. 

And the eerie giggled turned into an eerie, small voice. “Sorry….”

William screamed, running off of the field while flailing his arms.

“Look at him go!” Miguel shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand.

Jenkins was about to ask the Fairy Godmother for a raise. “Can we go back to practice now, or are you all too scared of a second grader to play the damn game?”

The team all muttered except for Carlos and Jay who just said “finally!”

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

Hannah wandered through the class rooms, staying invisible to the naked eye. 

Once again bored.

Eventually deciding to mess around in the chemistry lab. 

Juggling vials and giggling.

Evie walked in, wanting to be early for class, and groaned. “ Hannah! Don’t you have anything better to do?!”

Hannah jumped, nearly dropping the vials. And, instead of just talking directly to the princess, she decided to write ‘NO’ on the chalkboard. Just as other students and Mr. Deley walked in. 

Mr. Deley, who already had Evie on his shit list, saw the ‘no’ written on the chalkboard, and a red-faced Evie, and connected the two dots. “Miss. Evie. Care to explain this?”

Hannah giggled. 

Mr. Deley didn’t seem to hear the giggle, but Doug did. His face furrowed in confusion as he looked around.

Hannah lit up as she noticed him and appeared next to him. Beaming at him. “Are yous Evie’s boyfriend ?”

Doug shrieked, almost slamming into the person behind him. 

He wasn't the only kid to scream and jump at the sudden appearance of the little GLITCHING girl.

Poor Tyrone, who happened to be in that class, ran out of the room, screaming “The Other Side!!!!”

Hannah giggling, biting her thumb. “Don't worry! I don't have cooties or scurvy!”

Mr. Deley squinted at Hannah. Then his eyes went wide. “Great Scott…” He collapsed, smacking his face on the floor.

Hannah's laughter could be heard echoing throughout the school.

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

Lonnie had developed somewhat of a night baking habit.

Ever since she caught the VKs making love spell cookies in the middle of the night, she’d realized how nice and quiet the kitchens were at night.

So she’d started sneaking in to make her cookies. Sue her.

….it also made her feel less homesick, too, if she was being honest.

She’d just finished a batch, and left them on the counter to cool off while she grabbed a glass of milk.

When she turned around, three of her chocolate chip-green tea cookies were gone. She's only been away from them for an actual minute, if even that!

“What the fuck.” She said aloud to the empty room.

A loud creepy giggle echoed around the room. 

“...ancestors?” She couldn’t help but ask. Though, why her ancestors would c hoose to show themselves while she was sneak baking cookies in the middle of the night, she didn’t know.

“What's an a-an-cest-er?”

“Gah!” Lonnie jumped, holding up her hands in a defensive position. “Who– what are you?”

“...Hannah.” The voice replied, sounding confused.

Lonnie cocked her head. “Hannah who? Why are you invisible?”

“Hannah Hook! And cause I’s dead! Who are you?”

“...I’m Li Lan-Lei. But you can call me Lonnie.” Was she actually talking to a ghost?

“That's a pretty name!” Hannah complimented, giggling—probably at whatever funny looking expression was currently on Lonnie's face. 

“Thanks?” Lonnie cleared her throat. “Uh, how did you, you know…die, anyway?” Wasn’t that what you were supposed to ask ghosts?

“Frollo!” The lights flickered at her raised voice. “Anyway how old are you?”

Lonnie blanched. Frollo, as in, Judge Claude Frollo, who terrorized Quincy, Emile, and Zephyr’s parents? “Um…I’m sixteen. How old are you?”

“I'm seven!”

“You died at seven?” Oh, joy. Lonnie was gonna cry in front of a ghost. “That’s so sad. I’m sorry.”

“It's okay! I saveded my friend and his sissy!”

“From Frollo?” She managed to compose herself enough to ask.

“Uh huh!” Hannah replied, sounding like she was chewing on something. Probably one of her missing cookies.

“Do you, uh…like the cookies?”

“Uh huh! I likes chocolate!”

“Me too!” Despite the fact that this whole situation was completely insane, Lonnie was starting to get along well with the ghost of Hannah Hook.

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

“Help! Help!”

Doug heard the calls for help and went running towards the sound. “Hello? Who’s calling?!”

“Over here! Help!”

He kept running, following the oddly child-like voice.

“Here! Here!”

Doug rounded a corner, and saw Chad on the ground, writhing. 

“Oh, shit!” Dough cussed as he ran over. He felt around Chad’s clothes, looking for the epipen he always carried around. “Come on, come on, come on! Where is that damn thing?!”

“His backpack!”

Not bothering to look where the random ass child voice was coming from, Doug dove for Chad’s bag, and snagged the epipen. He uncapped it with his teeth, and jammed the end down into Chad’s thigh as hard as he possibly could.

Chad went lax, choking ever so slowly turning to wheezing and mild coughing. But thanks to his uncle, Doug knew that he needed to still get him to the nurse and call an ambulance.

He dialed Doc’s son quick, making sure that Chad’s head didn’t loll too much. “Raph, it’s me! Medical emergency in the south side of the school! Get the nurse and call A113, asap!” 

He tapped Chad’s cheek. “Dude, what did you eat?!”

“He ate that thingy on the table!”

Now that Chad was out of immediate danger and help was on the way, Doug looked around for the source of the child voice. But found no one and nothing.“Who said that?!”

“I did!” The voice said, beside him this time—right as he was poked with something. A crinkle of a wrapper could be heard. 

Doug jumped back. “Wait–are you that ghost from the chemistry lab?”

“...maybe?”

“What do you mean maybe?!” 

“If I'm in trouble, then no. If I'm not, yes. Is he dead?”

“No, he’s not dead!” He sputtered. “And—how are you a ghost?!”

“Frollo. Also he ates this!” The ghost poked him with—a candy bar?

“Wha–?” Doug took the candy bar and skimmed the ingredients. “Dude!” He looked at Chad, who wasn’t super conscious. “The first ingredient in this thing is honey!”

Which, along with feathers, Chad was extremely allergic to. 

The blonde just squinted at him, trying and failing to say something but being unable to do to the swelling of his lips and his inability to form/get the words out at the moment. 

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

Ben had been spelled. 

Ben had been spelled. 

Ben had been spelled. 

And now everyone knew, but no one , including BEN cared. 

No but Audrey, who'd been humiliated in front of two whole schools when her boyfriend had sung a love song to another girl . The girl who'd spelled him and wasn't getting any consequences and who was even telling jokes about it. 

Which was why she found herself sobbing her heart out in the girl’s locker room, while all her fellow cheerleaders were at practice. Her fellow cheerleaders who'd smiled and clapped and laughed while her boyfriend sung to another girl, like everyone else had.  

Something brushed against her cheek. 

Her eyes shot open. 

“H-hello?” Her voice was throaty, and she coughed a few times to clear her throat.

Something poked her cheek again. Something… soft. 

It was a crumpled (but thankfully clean ) tissue. Floating. In midair.

Audrey yelped, scrambling away from the floating object.

“I’m sorry. I didn't means to scares you.”

“Who–what—why–” Audrey stammered, freaked out, sure, but mostly embarrassed that she hadn’t been crying alone after all.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you–are you invisible?” She waved her hand around in the air, trying to find whoever was doing this. “This isn’t funny! You’ll–you’ll be in trouble for pranking me like this!”

“I'm not prankin’ you!” The lights flickered slightly. “I just… you soundeds so sads.”

The lights stopped flickering. “But… I'll go aways if ya wants me to.”

“Wait!” Audrey hadn’t the slightest idea why she called out to this…entity. Maybe it was because this was the first time in a while she didn’t feel so heart-breakenly alone . “Don’t go.”

“I'm sorry about what happened.”

She sniffed. “How do you even know what happened?”

“I heard people talkin’ about it. And I saw what happened.” The voice was becoming clearer—and the more it spoke, the more apparent it became that the voice was a child. “I'm sorry. If I'd known what Mal was gonna do I'd have stopped it. You didn't deserves that.”

At that, Audrey promptly burst into tears again. “Y-y-you’re the only person who’s said that to me! Everybody is on Mal’s s-side, even though she spelled Ben!”

“Do you want a hug? You look like you could use one.”

Audrey had no idea who this weird invisible child was, but honestly? She didn’t really care. “Yeah, sure.” She held out her arms kind of awkwardly, not being able to see her. But she could still feel it. 

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

Merryweather was grading her students' papers, rather angrily. Her class, Life Skills Without Magic, was a required course for all magical pupils, which meant that she had a lot of…unwilling participants in her midst. The papers got worse and worse as she graded.

Screeeeeeeeeech. 

She lifted her head up sharply. Someone was writing on her chalkboard. She pushed her seat out, and angrily stomped out of her office. “WHO, I say, WHO IS IN THERE?!”

A piece of red chalk was floating by the chalkboard—which now read ‘Say sorry to Audrey, Maleficent Bertha Fae-Athanasiou II!’

Merryweather paused. Because, well…she agreed with the writing. Audrey was her niece, after all.

But still. Using magic? On the Life Skills Without Magic teacher? Too far.

Also, it was a little disturbing that whoever was doing this knew when exactly Mal would be having her class. 

“Very funny, you little miscreant!” She snapped. “I won’t be reporting this to Fairy Godmother, just because you’re friends with Audrey. But if you pull a stunt like this again, I won’t hesitate, witch!”

The chalk dropped to the floor and the sound of tiny feet running could be heard as the door to her classroom flung open and then shut again. 

What was a child doing at Auradon Prep and how did they know enough magic to turn themselves invisible?

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

“Tinkerbell flew into a wall, 

Tinkerbell had a great fall!”

The fairy in question heard this nursery rhyme, coming from nowhere, and turned bright red in anger. “Who is that?! How dare you?!”

The singing stopped briefly as the singer took a break to giggle. Before it started up again. 

“Tinkerbell got caught in a trap, 

Tinkerbell is full of crap!”

“Stop that!” Tink demanded and stood up from her desk. “Who is doing that?! I will send you to the headmistress’s office and have you expelled!”

The singer snickered and a loud thud rang out across the room. As if someone was jumping up and down. 

“Tinkerbell can't sing,

Tinkerbell’s lost her wing’s!

Tinkerbell got hooked, 

Tinkerbell's cooked!”

In a rage, Tink stamped her foot. “Who’s spawn are you, huh?! I’ll make sure your parents know about this!”

The only response was a loud, almost never ending laugh.

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

The pink curtains in the Acapella Music Classroom had been swapped with blue ones. 

Flora tried to breathe in through her nose. Calm, happy thoughts. “Merryweather…”

Before the fairy could say anything else, her pink chair turned blue. 

She whirled around. “Merryweather! I thought you were done with all this magic nonsense!”

The desks turned blue. 

“MERRYWEATHER!”

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

Hannah went on to annoy every single staff member she came across. 

Mostly out of boredom, rather than malice. Mostly.

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

The class’s eyes widened, staring at something behind her as Fauna droned on about Zarina—the subject of this Bad Fairies lesson. 

“What are you children looking at?” Fauna put her hands on her hips, not liking the idea that her students weren’t paying attention to her.

One of them pointed at the whiteboard, mouth agape. Looking white as a sheet. 

Fauna whirled around and screamed.

The word ‘bollocks’ was written on the white board in big, blocky, bubble letters. In uppercase. 

She spun to face her students. “Who did this?”

No one claimed responsibility.

Figures.

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

Mrs. Potts was busy making macaroni salad for the students' lunches.

As head cook, she was insistent that the kids in her care got the four major food groups.

Buuuuuuuuzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. 

Pop. 

At that noise, Mrs. Potts whirls around to look behind her.

Only to be met with a floating bag of pepperonis that was about knee length in the air. 

“What on earth!” Mrs. Potts shrieked and stepped back.

The bag jumped before falling to the ground and a child glitched into view before scurrying away. 

Mrs. Potts had seen her fair share of wild things. Hell, she’d spent ten years as a teapot. 

But random glitching children stealing her pepperoni? 

Yeah, that was too much.

She dropped her ladle and ran out of the kitchen, screaming.

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

Hannah rifled through the cabinets of a classroom, looking for something to do. Glitching in and out of view as she struggled to stay visible.

“You looking for something, sweetheart?” A woman’s voice said, right next to her.

She spun around, trying not to look too guilty. “I ain't stealing.”

“I never said you were.” Honeymaren raised an eyebrow. “I just asked if you were looking for something.”

“... I don't know. I'm bored.”

“Well, I’d imagine so. Being a spirit must be awfully tiring.”

Hannah nodded. “There's nothing to do.” 

“My friend Gale, he’s a spirit too. He likes to make people fly.” Honeymaren made a whooshing motion with her hand.

The young spirit’s eyes lit up. “Like a fairy?” 

“Very similar.” A smile played on her lips. “If you want, after I’m done with my classes for today, I can teach you.”

Hannah danced in place, excitedly. “Yes please!”

Honeymaren couldn't help but be reminded of how her own daughter, Nora, was at that age. 

“Alright. Just…try and stay out of trouble until then.”

“Okay!”

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

Homework was stupid.

Chad really didn’t understand the concept of it.

He already had to do work at school, why did he have to bring it home?!

The math problems were swimming around the page, and he’d only completed three…out of thirty.

Suddenly, a ball of paper hit him in the back of the head. 

He whirled around, looking for the culprit. 

There was no one there.

Wondering if he was actually going insane, he cautiously returned to his problems, now double unable to focus.

Only to find the equations to the homework. The ones he's forgotten ages ago.

He glanced up at the sky. “God?!”

A small giggle rang out. “No.”

“Gah!” Chad hit the deck, as if expecting an explosion. “Who are you?!” He asked from the floor.

“Hannah from tourney!”

He blinked. “...You’re the one who shot the canon and made William pee his pants?”

The ghost (?) giggled amused. “Sorry!”

“It’s okay…it was funny.” Chad wanted to smack himself. Why was he talking to a ghost-maybe-not-a-ghost?

“I hope the math helps! I don't likes math either.”

“Yeah. Math sucks.” Chad agreed. “How did you find these things?” He gestured to the previously missing equation notes.

“I don't have anything betters to do than to writes stuff down.” He could almost see her shrugging. 

“I guess that’s fair enough.” He hadn’t really considered what it would be like to be a ghost—and yes, he was acknowledging that she was a ghost now.

It must have been boring. 

And lonely.

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

Belle couldn't find her book and her book club was set to start in ten minutes.

She’d looked everywhere she normally left her books, then started looking in places she would never leave them. Like the refrigerator.

Where she found one.

“What the–” Belle blinked. Was she going senile? There was no way she could have put this in there!

Ben peaked his head into the room. “Mom? Are you ready for book club?” 

The queen said nothing.

“Mom? Are you alright?”

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

His statue was missing it's head.

Former King Beast had walked around campus for a solid hour trying to either find the head, or the culprit.

When all the VK’s had solid alibis, he checked with Ben's close friends but found they had alibis as well: Fay had been furious he'd accused Jane at all, Grumpy had been even angrier and had cursed him out for accusing Doug, Coach Jenkins had cleared Lonnie, and Chad and Audrey weren't even on campus. 

He did find it, eventually.

In the downstairs girl’s bathroom. Upside down. In a bidet. With the word ‘BITCH’ painted on it. 

After doing a good amount of angry yelling at nothing, Beast stormed out of the bathrooms, not bothering to touch the statue head. He’d get a janitor to clean it later.

But he would be getting to the bottom of whoever did this, and punish them severely.

Only when he passed his portrait did he realize that his statue wasn't the only thing vandalized.

A crude mustache and glasses were painted on his face, as well as the words ‘scurvy ridden, scabby sea bass’. The words were punctuated by a picture of a sea bass smacking his portrait self in the face.

Beast roared.

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

The whole school was in chaos. 

FG and Ben were trying to get to the bottom of what was going on. 

But Mal already seemed to have an idea. “HANNAH ARTEMIS HOOK, KNOCK IT OFF!”

“Who’s Hannah Artemis Hook?” Ben asked his girlfriend, looking around cautiously.

Mal allowed some of her anger to drain out of her as she gave him a small smile. “Ghost kid from the isle. Don't worry about it. She won't actually hurt anybody.”

FG gave a condescending laugh. “Ghosts aren’t real. I’m sure this is just an intense prank. Remember how Calista Jane Hook was? I’m sure this is just the same.”

“That'd be news to me if she managed to fake her death that well at only seven.” Mal tried not to roll her eyes or come off as too sarcastic, simply for Ben's sake. “And not be exposed before now.”

Ben inhaled, regretting his life choices. “So let me get this straight: There’s the seven year old ghost of CJ Hook’s sister haunting Auradon?”

“No, she's just following us. She'll probably leave when she realizes we're safe enough here.” Mal waved him off. Before turning to look down the hall “But until then SHE NEEDS TO BEHAVE !”

The locker closest to Mal (coincidentally her own) slammed open. 

Ben jumped and let out a swear. FG jumped as well, but let out a “fiddlesticks!” instead of a normal swear.

“Is that her?” Ben asked, unsure of what exactly proper etiquette was for meeting a ghost.

“Yes. But again she won't hurt her…. Well, as long as you don't hurt any of the isle kids.”

FG huffed, but Ben looked at where he thought the ghost must be. “Uh, hi, Hannah! I’m King Ben. Welcome to Auradon!”

“Hi!” An echoey, eerie voice replied. 

Ben tried not to jump again. Was that disrespectful? “How’re you liking Auradon so far?”

“I likes da books. They ain't missin’ no pages!” The voice replied. “And nobody's died here yets!”

“Yaaaay?” Ben’s voice went flat. 

FG at least had the decency to look ashamed.

“Are yous Mally’s boyfriend?”

Mal hid her face in her hands, fully aware of how red that comment was going to make her.

He grinned widely. “Why, yes I am.” To prove his point, he kissed Mal on the cheek.

Hannah giggled loudly. “Oooo waits till her siblings find out!”

“Siblings?” Ben looked at his girlfriend in surprise. “I thought you just had the one. Treycor, right?”

“Ya! Treycor! But she has more!”

Mal nodded, embarrassed. “From our dad’s side…”

“Dad?” It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t heard much about the other parents of the VKs.

Hannah giggled. 

“Will you knock it off?” The purple haired teen snapped at the space where the little girl was supposedly standing. 

“Buuuuuuutttttrt Malllllllly I'm boooooooooooored! BORED, BORED, BORED!”

“You know, Carlos and Jay have video games in their room. You like video games?” Ben tried to placate her (and to get her to stop yelling.)

“...yes!”

“Maybe you can watch them play?” Ben was glad he was getting somewhere. “In fact, I can take you there now. I just have to ask you one question, if that’s okay?”

“...okay.”

Ben hesitated. He wasn’t sure how this would go. But there was a seven year old dead girl. He had to know. “Can I ask how you…became a ghost, Hannah?”

The lights flashed, all of the lockers flung open, and a water fountain turned on. “Judge Frollo!”

FG screamed, and used her clipboard as a shield against the chaos. “Claude Frollo turned you into a ghost?!”

Mal winced. 

Ben had wrapped his arms around Mal to shield her from the lockers, but after FG said that, he glared at the woman with all his might. “She means that Judge Claude Frollo killed her, Fairy Godmother.”

FG gasped. “Oh.”

“She uh… was trying to protect his last two living children.” Mal added, hesitant for once. “Her mom and Grandma didn't make it in time to help.”

One of the lights exploded as the lockers slammed shut—silence quickly filling the hallway, sans the trickling water of the fountain. 

“Oh my gods.” Ben whispered, breaking the silence.

“Can we play now?” Hannah cut in, ‘breathing’ heavily before the water fountain turned off. 

Ben was not in the mood for playing, but he forced a smile anyway. “You betcha.”

“Yay!”

The lights flickered once more before stopping. 

“Race you ta Jay-Jay and ‘los’s room!”

[she-karev]

Mama Bear (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Imagine)

Previous Chapter Here

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Three of Three

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Canon Season and Episode: Season 19 episode 9

AN: Hey guys, here’s the final chapter, be warned there is a pretty intense verbal fight ahead if your in the mood for a good scrap. The GIF above is Amber's outfit for the dinner party I hope you enjoy.

Summary: Amber and Andrew go have dinner with Owen, Teddy, Ben and Bailey that quickly turns sour as they fight with Altman and Hunt.

Words: 4965

January 13th, 2023

I walk out of my closet wearing my navy-blue blazer dress over my black lingerie and gold heels clacking the hard wood floors of our bedroom. My long blonde hair is down and wavy with an extra fluff to stand out. My makeup is done especially well with coral lipstick, nude eyeshadow and cat eyeliner. I’m in front of the oval standing mirror next to the closet in our bedroom putting the buttons through the loops so it can close fully. The dress is long sleeved, double breasted with big gold buttons and it reaches my knees giving me a businesswoman with style kind of look.

Andrew is still in the walk-in closet getting ready and I realize I forgot something, “Hey babe? Can you grab me a belt on your way out? It’s the gold one with a lot of circles.”

He comes out two seconds later in his blue thermal shirt with his leather jacket on and dark jeans. He tosses me the belt I asked for and I put it on completing my look sensing my husband’s eyes leering at me.

“Wow you look like a million bucks.”

I groan at how this dress is tighter on me post baby, “I feel like a million bucks stuffed inside a mini-Coach wallet. If there’s dessert we’re leaving because I’m afraid one piece of carb will make this dress pop and then Hunt won’t be mad about the ear after I gave him a peek at the goods.”

“You look gorgeous and that dress is tight in all the right areas, don’t worry.”

I walk toward him and give him a grateful kiss, “Your sweet. I wish we wouldn’t have to go to this thing but I’m desperate for human interaction even if it’s hosted by the parents of the child who bit ours. Twice.” I walk to the bed putting my things in my black crossbody still feeling mad at Hunt for allowing his daughter to bite mine again. I thought the ear pinching would soothe my anger but it didn’t.

Andrew looks at me slightly amused and slightly worried, “Will you try to behave? And leave Hunt with at least one good ear?”

I sigh but comply, “For you yes I will.” Carina walks inside the bedroom in her pajamas carrying Lucy in her arms, “Hey thanks so much for babysitting again.”

“Oh, it’s no problem it’s gonna be a fun night with me and Lucy isn’t that right booboo?” Carina babbles at the baby who stares at her blankly. She turns back to us with a smile, “I’ll call you if there’s any problems and I left the ringer on in case you call.”

I nod, “Okay I left breast milk in the fridge in case she gets hungry, she loves her little green dragon but in case she loses it we have about 10 more in the closet and I changed her about half an hour ago. Also, if she gets difficult just turn on-”

“Moana and sing along to her.” Carina repeats with a grin, “I know everything there is to know about babies cognata. Remember that you have two sister in laws who are OB’s.”

“Exactly I mean she’s basically Mary Poppins with a medical degree.” Andrew says to reassure me and turns me to face him, “She’ll be fine with her Zia Carina for the next two hours, maybe even three if we’re feeling crazy. We have about 18 years to go, let’s have at least one night as a couple instead of parents. Okay babe?”

I sigh and look at Lucy who looks content in Carina’s arms who nods reassuringly. I’m still worried but I know I need one night with my husband before I forget what I felt like pre baby, “Okay let’s hurry while I’m still brave come on let’s go.” Andrew quickly hands me my black coat and grabs the car keys. I stand in front of Carina and lean down to face Lucy with a smile, “Okay sweetie mommy and daddy will be back have fun with your Zia we love you.” I kiss her head and Andrew does the same.

“Love you bambina.” Andrew rushes me out of the house, no doubt thinking I’ll change my mind and turn around. And he was right to as every cell in my body aches with each step I take and not just from being away from my child for the night. I get the feeling that something really bad is about to happen at dinner.

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

Andrew and I exited the car parked outside of Owen and Teddy’s house. I carried the roasted peppers in a glass dish that Andrew made for the Hunt’s despite my insistence it wasn’t what they deserved. He already finished making them though so it was either eat it with them or throw it away and I am not one to waste good food. We spot Ben and Bailey walking down the sidewalk a few feet away from us, also carrying a dish.

“Hey.” They greet us back, “You brought something too?”

Bailey nods with a grin, “Yes ma’am apple pie my mother’s recipe what about you?”

“Roasted peppers on olive with lots of garlic.” Andrew goads as we walk with them, “You haven’t known what true Italian dishes taste like until you tried my peppers.”

“Trust me he’s not being arrogant he’s stating facts. The smell alone takes you to the land of pasta. I just wish we weren’t sharing that with Hunt and Altman two hours after their kid bit our kids.” I bitterly add.

“Yeah, that makes two of us.” Ben agrees, “It better be a good spread they have because I am holding as much back as I can.”

“Well at least you get to drink through this nightmare.” I groan, “I’m breastfeeding and I don’t want to risk damaging my baby with copious amounts of wine and vodka laced in her milk. Unfortunately, Altman doesn’t have to worry about that because I can smell the wine in her liver already.”

Ben chuckles, “And the rage in the air when she and Hunt are in the same room.”

“If this night goes bad, can you pull a Backdraft and start a fire so we can escape the dumpster fire that is a dinner with Hunt and Altman?”

“Were our spouses this grouchy when we decided to marry them?” Andrew asks Bailey who chuckles.

“Mine wasn’t but I think we both know the answer about yours.” We stop outside the door where Andrew rings the doorbell and Owen Hunt answers.

“Ben, Bailey, DeLuca’s. Enter at your own risk.” I try to keep a pleasant face as I enter the house with Andrew where Teddy greets us.

“Come on in.” She notices the dishes we brought, “Oooh look at that.”

Bailey hands her the dish, “Apple pie, my mother’s recipe. Maybe you can think of it when you are approving budget requests for the clinic.”

Andrew chuckles, “And I brought roasted peppers to start as appetizers.”

“Thank you, you shouldn’t have.”

I fake chuckle, “No we really shouldn’t have.” I thrust the dish against Owen’s stomach roughly and he takes it with a groan. I noticed that his right ear is bandaged at the top with gauze due to my handiwork from this afternoon. The sight gives me a sick sort of satisfaction that I keep to myself and Owen clears his throat to converse with Ben instead as we hang our coats.

“Hey, I heard there were some fires down in south Seattle. You been on those?”

“Uh, no, no, no. Uh, we have a little girl now, so I sit the crazy stuff out.”

Teddy laughs, “That never stopped Owen.” I grin slightly at his wife also giving him a hard time.

Owen looks peeved but grins, “Ah, please excuse her. She's exhausted after one day of the job that you and I did for years.”

“And how did that work out for you career wise?” I ask venomously with Andrew clicking his tongue no doubt feeling awkward.

Teddy purses her lips but keeps being the host, “Wine?”

“Uh, by wine, can you mean bourbon?” Bailey asks.

“Good idea.” Owen and Teddy walk to the kitchen and we follow.

“Cheese and crackers are on the coffee table.” Altman informs us.

“Oh, fantastic.” Ben says, “I'd love a bite.” I snort at his use of that word causing Bailey to smack us both on the arm telling us to knock it off. I keep a straight face as I enter into the belly of the beast.

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

The tension is still in the air even as we sit comfortably in the living room waiting for the chicken to come out of the oven. We’re sitting on the couch next to Warren and Bailey with Owen and Teddy sitting across from each other in the armchairs. We’re talking about the challenges of parenthood and I try as hard as I can to keep the biting incident to myself even as I talk about what raising a baby has been like for us so far.

“I feel like a cow.” Andrew chuckles at that, “Oh you think it’s funny I’m a baby’s own personal soda fountain? Be glad you got the Y chromosome buddy because your body is still the same and you don’t have hormones to mess your mind up as well.”

“Well, I have bipolar disorder so I know a thing or two about adjusting bodies and messed up minds.”

“He’s got you there DeLuca.” Hunt tells me.

“Yeah, you don’t give an opinion here.” I snap and Hunt frowns at that as I continue, “You two ladies have already done this how long is it gonna take before my boobs come back to normal.”

“Never.” They both answer in unison.

I whimper at that, “I mean don’t get me wrong she’s my daughter, I love her and I’m glad I had her. I just really miss my perfect boxing body.”

“Hey, come on you still have it.” My husband holds my hand in comfort that I appreciate.

“How is Lucy doing anyway?” My mood turns sour at Hunt’s question, “Is she with a babysitter?”

I glare at Hunt who looks uncomfortable at my obvious disdain that Andrew notices and decides to intervene with an answer, “Um no, my sister is living with us while she and her wife are separated. She’s watching Lucy right now. I think she’s trying to fill the void of having an estranged wife with being an aunt. I mean don’t get me wrong I’m glad she’s helping I just didn’t expect to raise my baby with my wife and sister. Which now that I say it out loud is wrong and incestuous.”

“Well hey I grew up in a hell house I wish I had a hot, cool aunt to spend time with me.”

Andrew looks at me with a raised eyebrow, “Hot?”

I roll my eyes, “Come on your sister is a knockout I’m not gonna deny what’s obvious. Will I do anything? Hell no. I just think it’s nice for my daughter to have what I didn’t, someone by her side. I mean God knows there are kids in this life that are gonna attack her and make her feel less worthy than she is because those kids are either dicks or their parents are.” I turn to Hunt so he knows what I’m talking about, “Isn’t that right Hunt?”

Hunt sips his bourbon with a frown as the others sit around awkwardly after I called out the elephant in the room, “Well I’m still a little woozy from the blood loss due to my ear being pinched through so what do I know?”

“Not much as it’s been shown recently.” I grin maliciously with Andrew next to me tapping his fingers against my thigh clearly uncomfortable.

Teddy chuckles awkwardly, “Yep I definitely should have brought more wine.”

Bailey speaks up, “Okay people we are here to have dinner as friends and as coworkers but as of late some things have happened that have caused both of your families to be in the middle of a slight conflict. We need to clear the air and get it all sorted and get it out there before the oven dings because I for one am in the mood for a night without children present.”

“Absolutely, I completely agree.” Andrew nods looking at me as I stare at the coffee table for a moment before nodding, “Okay so how should we start?”

Bailey clears her throat and turns to her husband, “Ben do you want to be mediator?”

Ben coughs out his bourbon he was sipping and looks at Bailey surprised, “Me?”

“Yes you.” Bailey confirms with a ‘duh’ tone, “Diane trained you to talk to people through much more dire situations than this didn’t she?”

“She did and conflict resolution was a part of the Crisis One training.”

“Well there you go so…” Bailey motions to the four of us and Ben looks around awkwardly before starting.

“Um well you four have known each other for years and you respect each other and even consider yourselves friends so let’s remind you of that. Amber?” I look at Ben who speaks in a mediator tone, “You always say that your grateful to Hunt and Altman for saving DeLuca’s life that day because you would not have married him and had a beautiful baby girl with him if they did any less.”

I remember that day clearly as it was one of the worst days of my life. We were broken up at the time but it didn’t change how I felt about him it just changed how I viewed him. I felt terror and anxiety when I got that call and waited for five agonizing hours while he was in the O.R. when they came to me and told me he made it I felt like singing hallelujah! I am extremely grateful to them as Bailey reminded me and my resentment lessens just a tiny bit.

“…Yeah, I might have said that a time or two.” I admit.

“And we all know your not a flatterer and don’t kiss up to attendings like normal residents.” Andrew smirks at that as Ben continues, “So can we assume that came from the heart?”

I press my lips together as I admit once more, “It did.” Hunt looks at me grateful for that.

“And Hunt.” Ben turns to Owen, “You’ve expressed on more than one occasion that DeLuca when she was She-Karev was one the most promising and intelligent residents you’ve seen in her class?”

“Well there wasn’t a doubt about it.” I look at him touched, “And I’m not just saying that because Glasses was also in her class.” We chuckle at that memory.

“Okay good there we go.” Ben grins and pours more bourbon telling us he’s done to my surprise.

“That’s it?” Bailey asks and Ben looks up at us.

“We kind of thought you were just getting started.” I explain with a chuckle.

Ben shrugs, “Well Miranda wanted this spat resolved before the oven dings so I decided to rush it and besides it seems like you both got your digs in so your even.”

Teddy hmm’s, “Okay so I guess you skipped the conflict resolution part of your training. And besides Allison is three she didn’t know what she was doing biting happens. I was gonna have my husband talk to her and make sure this doesn’t happen again but as of late he’s skimmed on his adult responsibilities.”

I scoff, “The way you bite your husbands head off I can see where she would get the habit from.”

Teddy sighs, “Amber, I apologize for what Allison did and I promise you I will try to keep this from happening again.”

Andrew steps in surprising me, “Mmm that’s what you said last time and I have a feeling you were too busy hating your husband to do something about your problem child.”

Teddy stops sipping her wine to look at him offended, “What did you just call my daughter?”

“A problem child.” Andrew repeats this time sternly, “A child who is difficult to control and discipline and your kid fits that description after she bit both of our daughters. Twice.” Teddy scoffs at the insult, “Am I saying things that aren’t true or did someone else sink her little teeth into our five-month-old baby? Have our frustrations not been clear?”

“Well, your wife made her frustrations clear when she almost tore my husband’s ear off.”

“Are you jealous I did it before you could?” I coldly ask Altman who widens her eyes and I turn to Hunt to vent as well, “And you know what Hunt? You didn’t give me much choice when you weren’t willing to have an adult conversation but I guess you’d have to be an adult to do that instead of acting like a child.”

“Oh, I’m a child?” Hunt asks frustrated, “You called my daughter a devil spawn and brat does that sound like being an adult DeLuca?”

“You what?!” Teddy exclaims in shock and I turn to her ready to tear her down.

“Because she was being a brat and devil spawn!” Teddy’s mouth gapes at my brutal honesty as I continue, “How do you expect me to react when your child attacked mine?!”

“Okay people let’s calm down please.” Bailey tries to mediate but it falls on deaf ears as we’re too busy fighting.

“We apologized DeLuca you don’t want it to hear it and accept it that is on you.” Hunt coldly tells me.

“Your gonna lecture her on accountability? Really?”  Andrew asks mockingly, “You bitch every hour and every day to your wife about how you lost your job after you committed murder! You think you have the high ground when it comes to taking responsibility really?”

“That wasn’t murder!” Hunt explains in anger and I roll my eyes at him ranting again, “I did what I did to give soldiers who were denied proper medical care after serving their country and getting sick as a result the chance at a dignified death instead of slowly dying in pain in a hospital bed and leaving their families with more debt! Do you want me to be sorry for that?”

I hit a breaking point as I slap the coffee table in anger, “OH MY GOD! I…” I take a deep inhale to control myself, “You have not said one thing that none of us in this room or the hospital don’t already know Hunt so listen with your good ear when I tell you to shut up!”

Teddy speaks up, “Amber, watch the tone you use with my husband because as mad as I am at him-”

“You shut up too!” Teddy quiets and looks shocked at me turning on her now, “You’ve been bitching at him nonstop since the day you guys came back and believe me it hasn’t been easy.”

“Well, you know what I am sorry that I am angry DeLuca!” Teddy yells, “Our lawyers bankrupted us because of my husband so I am sorry if that can make a woman lash out at her idiot of a husband!”

“Oh, just say it again Teddy!” Owen yells after that insult.

I scoff at this display with DeLuca stepping in angry as well, “No Altman what you and Hunt should be sorry for is for turning into a couple of toxic, self-absorbed, rage consumed assholes that none of us can even stand to be around anymore!”

I clap in solidarity, “Preach it honey!”

Ben clears his throat as he and his wife listen clearly uncomfortable, “Okay you guys come on let’s just-”

“I mean at this point with you two fighting nonstop Allison is gonna spend a decade on a therapists couch wondering why she can’t form a healthy relationship and that will be because of you two.” Andrew scoffs and continues, “I mean is it any wonder with parents like you two why your kid is so screwed up?”

Altman sips her wine before narrowing her eyes at us, “Oh and you two want to talk about screwed up kids? I mean how do you think Lucy will feel when she finds out what genes she’s inheriting from both of your sides? Or how her daddy went insane in front of the whole surgical floor?”

“Excuse me!” Andrew bellows out next to me and I react quickly. I stood up and grabbed the glass of wine right out of her hand to throw it in her face in pure rage causing her to gasp. I’m too busy tearing Altman down to see the others’ reactions but I can guess their shocked.

“Amber!” Owen admonishes me but I ignore it.

I put the glass down the coffee table with a hard clink and point a finger at her as she processes being doused in white wine, “You will never, NEVER! Talk about my family like that or so help me Altman I will destroy you! My husband has bipolar disorder and he works hard to treat it. Yeah, he made mistakes but he tried to save a child from a human trafficker while you let the whole hospital hear you whoring yourself to a neurosurgeon while you were engaged.” Altman looks at me shocked but stays quiet, “And yeah, I’m screwed up, I’m a product of my upbringing. I’m a bitch, I acknowledge that. I had to be a bitch to survive my life growing up. A crazy mom, crazy brother, foster care, private high school I have had to be a bitch to survive all of that but now I am not a bitch for the sake of surviving anymore, now I am a bitch for the sake of my family. I know that and I am proud of that and do not apologize for how I reacted at your husband when your little brat bit my baby and when you just shamed my husband for his mental illness. And you know Altman you can judge all you want but I would rather be a protective bitch than-”

Owen tries to stop me again, “Thin ice here Amber very thin!”

I ignore him again so I can continue, “I would rather be a protective bitch than a sad, angry, pathetic drunk stuck in a dead marriage who was second choice for chief and third choice for a wife!” Altman is stunned in silence at my rant with tears glistening in her eyes that don’t incite pity in me. I turn to Andrew who is still sitting there with a blank face clearly agreeing with my rant as he didn’t step in at all. I notice Hunt barely spoke up confirming my points of her deteriorating marriage as he didn’t try to stop me while I was attacking his wife, “We’re leaving.” Andrew nods and stands up to follow me as we get our dish and coats so we can leave the house with our heads held high after the dumpster fire blew up.

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We sat in the car in silence with the engine off trying to reel from the events of five minutes ago.  I exhale as my nerves die down from giving Hunt and Altman a piece of my mind. I can sense Andrew also trying to mentally recover from the dinner that never was. He’s in the driver’s seat rubbing his temples before speaking first.

“Well, that was fun.”

I chuckle lightly, “Yeah I think I really won the new chief over with that wine to her face.”

“It was a very iconic drink to the face moment.” Andrew grins and holds my hand, “How bad do you think it’s gonna be tomorrow?”

I groan at that reminder that we have to work with them tomorrow, “How about we take Lucy, get on a plane and live out the rest of our days in Bora Bora? We can run a clinic there and never have to worry about crazy white people ever again.”

Andrew laughs at that suggestion, “That would be nice but I’m pretty sure your brother and my sister would kill us for leaving them to deal with the Hunt’s who will take their frustrations on us out on them.” He leans over to kiss me in comfort, “We’ll be okay babe. I mean we’ve handled a lot worse than an angry chief. We can survive anything as long as we’re together. That’s the advantage we have over Hunt and Altman and we can handle anything they dish out at us.”

I look at him in awe over his ability to ease my worries even after I insulted the chief in her own home. I cradle his face brushing my thumb across his stubbly cheek, “I love you.”

He grabs my hand from his cheek and turns his face to kiss my palm, “I love you.” He turns to the road and starts the engine, “Are you ready for a night of Moana with Lucy while she drinks breastmilk again?”

I grin at that before an idea comes to me, “Actually can we make a stop.”

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

The door opens revealing Alex inside the house in his casual wear surprised to see us on the other side of the door holding the peppers we were originally going to eat at the Hunts. I grin at him and see Jo approaching the door holding Luna also looking at us surprised.

“Hey guys.”

“Hi.” Alex looks at the dish I’m holding and back at me, “Is there a reason you guys came to my house at 11 and brought a plate of peppers?”

Andrew tsks, “It’s a long story but basically, we need a night to hang out with adult friends and no children present. The last ones we were with were…less than welcoming.” Alex raises an eyebrow, “We’ll explain more, can we come in and eat this dish with you guys? We kind of have to fill the time somehow and your our best option.”

Jo steps forward, “Who are we to turn down free food? Come in, let’s talk in the kitchen.” I thank Jo as we entered their house feeling safer here than we did at the Hunt’s.

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“And then I called her a sad, pathetic drunk who was chosen second for chief and third for wife. And then we left.” I finish telling the story as we sit around the dining room table eating the peppers with French bread and red wine that I’m not drinking opting for mineral water. We got to eating and talking once Jo put Luna down to sleep in her room. Jo and Alex look shocked at my last insult as they chew the food.

“Wow I wish I could’ve seen that.” Jo says, “So her exact words were Lucy might get the crazy gene since her dad went insane? She said that?”

“Yep.” Andrew confirms bitter as he sips his wine, “I was there and so were Ben and Bailey, you can ask them and they’ll say the same thing.”

Alex shakes his head at that clearly as mad as I was, “Now I kind of wish I took the chief job, then you wouldn’t be in danger of getting abused or fired.”

I shake my head at that, “Well to be fair how would you have known your sister was gonna go all ballistic on the chief of cardio after she insulted my family?”

“I think you let her off easy after what she said.” Jo says and I realize as a person who suffers bouts of depression she also feels triggered by Teddy’s comment like Andrew. I look at them in sympathy and decide to point out what me and Alex already know.

“You know neither of you are insane right?” I tell my husband and sister-in-law who look surprised by my change of subject, “You had mental health problems but you faced them and you’re better. It doesn’t make you weak if anything it makes you stronger.”

Alex nods holding Jo’s hand and looking at her with love and support, “Damn straight. Altman wouldn’t know how to face her problems if it bit her in the ass. Don’t listen to what she said and don’t believe it.”

Jo scoffs offended, “Well it was a new low of hers and that is saying something. It makes me wish I was there when you threw that drink in her face. I wish you recorded it.”

“It was very iconic it was like a fight at my family reunion.” Andrew says with a grin and I lightly push him, “Are you sure you’re not Italian?”

“Only by marriage.” I shove a whole slice of bread with a pepper in my mouth moaning in satisfaction at the taste and texture, “They really did not deserve these peppers.”

“Nope, not one bit.” Alex agrees with his mouth full, “It kind of makes me wish I married into an Italian family.”

Jo nods taking a bite of the bread, “Me too. So, what’s the plan after tonight? Are you gonna ask Avery for a face transformation or are you gonna take a really extended vacation?”

I sigh and remember what my husband said to me, “I don’t know but we will figure it out together. Besides what is she gonna do fire us? I’ll just go over her head and gang up on her with my attending brother, sister and husband.” They look at me amused, “It’s the one time I would use nepotism in my favor.” I hold up my water for them to clink their wine glasses against it as we enjoy this impromptu dinner party of ours.

[lnwrcauli]

Edward/Edith The Blue Engine [NWR AU]

History

Edith was built in 1890 as LSWR No. 577 of William Adam's X2 Class 4-4-0s. She originally carried the name Edward, but as she made the choice to change genders, I will be referring to her as Edith throughout this post. She worked out of Nine Elms shed between 1891 and 1915 when she was purchased by the NWR to work their express trains. Upon arrival, she was stabled at Vicarstown with her colleague Thomas. By the end of the Great War in 1918, her parts were thoroughly worn out and the workload was far too much for her, so The Fat Director purchased an "Atlantic" from a relatively little-known works in England to run his premiere express trains while Edith went in for refurbishment. Unfortunately however, the engine he received (Henry) performed far worse than expected, forcing the refurbishment work on Edith to be halted as she was pressed back into service once again. She soldiered on until 1922, when the railway bought Gordon. After Gordon's purchase, the railway was strapped for cash, so she was left in the back of the shed until repairs could be afforded. Unfortunately, in all the postwar stress, The Fat Director forgot to schedule her repairs and she was left there until 1924, when a driver took pity on the already life-expired engine and offered to take her out for a run, after which she was sent for repairs where it was found that the tolerances on her motion had been worn down so much that there was near an eighth-inch of play. After the works had finished with her in 1925, she was practically in factory-fresh condition.

Her life following this was relatively uneventful, up until her re-assignment to the Brendam Branchline in 1936, soon after which she had to chase a runaway James along the mainline to prevent a derailment. During the Second World War, Brendam Harbour was constantly full to capacity and often got raided by the Luftwaffe, which once again meant that Edith was thrashed to breaking point. Her schedule was packed to the brim with troop trains from every corner of the island to Brendam Harbour. Being relatively fast as well as light, she was the perfect engine for the job.

After the war, she was once again worn out completely, which was not helped by the increase in traffic due to the completion of the Sodor China Clay Company's Bill & Ben. Due to postwar austerity, she wasn't overhauled until it was far too late. While on an enthusiast's special in 1959, she split her left crank pin, causing her con-rod to break free of her wheel, bending her frame and splashers out of shape. Never one to give up, she slogged the eight-coach train as far as Wellsworth before being relieved by Mark, who was working thunderbird duties at the time. After her exploit, she received a very hasty and very desperate apology from Sir Charles Topham Hatt II, who gave her a complete overhaul as soon as possible. After her overhaul, she met a lonely Trevor the Traction Engine while passing by Crock's Scrap Yard. After making her crew aware of him, the three decided to consult the local vicar, and after a few negotiations, he was bought for the vicarage orchard.

In 1962, The Fat Controller noticed that Edith was struggling to keep up with the workload alone, and so purchased a failed diesel locomotive design from British Railways. The pair first met when Bill and Ben decided to play a trick on the newcomer, having their crews remove their nameplates and pretend they were the same engine. After Edith scared them off, the two got to chatting. Edith and BoCo have been firm friends ever since.

In 1971, Edith (then still known as Edward) made the realisation that she did not and had never felt male. With the support of Sir Charles, she changed her name to Edith, Sir Charles even having new custom nameplates cast for her. It took the others some time to come around, but they eventually all accepted her decision. By 2017, Edith was 127 and was certainly feeling her age. She put in a request to Sir Stephen Topham Hatt to formally retire from revenue service. Her request was granted and she went on an island-wide farewell tour. After her retirement, she was purchased by Sir Robert Norramby II for his (formerly his father's) estate railway/museum, where she resides to this day.

Personality

Edith is a caring, sweet and thoughtful engine, often putting others before herself. Though admirable, her selflessness sometimes leads to self-neglect or damage. Though she's usually the go-to engine to talk about your issues to, she shares very little about her own. Despite her shortcomings, she is a joy to talk to and was an asset to the railway.

Thank you for reading, I'll see you in the next one.

Cheerio!

[honeycrispjamz]

OKOK first off all . youre already aware but i very much see her as having BPD(which Greatly worsens during and after The Wilderness Trauma) but i also think of her as autistic. yes im projecting. i actually like to think she had a little crush on jackie before the crash. no specific reason i just think misty would look up to her a lot since shes the pretty and popular girl with lots of friends(i also think jackie would be at least kind of nice to her. i dont think they'd be friends, but to misty jackie giving her basic respect would feel like Far More then the bare minimum) adding on i. dont actually think she had any kind of crush or interest in coach ben prior to around episode 3. i feel like she'd even be uncomfortable around him. I'd even say she was still uncomfortable around him before the whole ''my sweet misty'' speech(i feel like. so many people dont pick up on how scared/hesitant she is until he validates her thoughts. shes a traumatized child more likely then not trying to replicate the abuse she's experienced) ALSO ALSO. i dont know if people just?? haven't picked up on it?? but she very obviously didn't want them trapped in the woods for that long. she wanted an extra few days/a week of people genuinely being nice to her and dog motif misty,,,, hrghhhhhh it means the World to me,,, girl who invented biting the hand that feeds,, i have so much more but i forgot if asks have character limits,,, praying this sends with my head in my hands

Character limits on asks is so anti-autism like don’t they know bitches be info-dumping on here,,, let us speak!!!!

But oh yes Misty being autistic is so real I treat it like canon at this point (I’m also autistic lmao,, starting to see a trend with my fellow Misty lovers,,, I Know What You Are,,,) especially with how she’s not able to form a good, strong bond with another girl till Crystal, another autistic girl, shows up. The way they fall into each other and find comfort is so good and real and means so much to me,,,,

And Misty having a crush on Jackie REAL!!! She doesn’t know if she wants to /be/ Jackie or taste Jackie’s strawberry flavored lipgloss,,, I truly think the only reason she doesn’t explore this little fantasy of hers more often is cause Shauna has made it VERY clear that Jackie is taken,,

Misty being uncomfortable but obsessed with Ben is like the biggest “this child is susceptible to abuse” red flag ever lmao. I think she does have some form of “crush” but more in the sense that since she’s so cut off from the girls before the crash, he’s her only link to them in any real sense while they are at school/practice, so she obsesses over him cause he’s her only link to a girlhood she so desperately wants. And she definitely didn’t want them trapped out there forever, she wanted to revel in the feeling of being needed just a little longer,,, no one gets her like us,,,

[mr-independent]

EP 3 aka the Trent Crimm Manifesto. Lessgo

-- Ultimate Girlboss Rebecca is such a fun opener

-- i know fanfic ppl make fun of Ted for not exploring London but he went visiting Big Ben this ep so idk man. Tho i do love the trope of his British beau showing Mr Kansas the sights so I'll let it slide. This time.

-- Ted's hair keeps falling into his face so kudos to everyone who's called him 'boyish' yallre so right

-- and the start of the Coach Nate arc begins!

-- 'flattering silhouette' this episode, with the soft shoeing last episode.......no straight man from Kansas talks like this babe

-- the Ted/Keeley friendship really falls off at some point but my god is it entertaining

-- Colin and Isaac were right dicks in this episode holy hell. Colin i kinda get, hyper masculinity allows him to stay in the closet but Isaac??? For shame

-- ah Trent. The suit-converse combo, the big dick swagger, the little bemused self-satisfied smile whenever Ted makes a stupid joke........ I've said it before and I'll say it again, what I wouldn't give to peg that man

-- Roy loving Step Brothers is such a funny detail

-- Keeley wolf-whistling a shirtless Roy is iconic. Also Roy's impression of Ted is Fucking Hilarious

-- the chemistry with Roy and Keeley is palpable and i love it

-- there was actually no reason for Ted to be changing in his office with Trent right there. Not one.

-- Bi Keeley literally starts so early why was anyone surprised? She begged to see a pic of Rebecca's tits before they were even friends, then said multiple times that she couldn't stop thinking about them

-- Trent was forced to sit amongst the school kids at the school award ceremony which is fucking hilarious

-- he also knows the plot of A Wrinkle In Time off the top of his head and loves it. Trent is my fav character for a reason y'all.

-- i forgot their little date was to the restaurant of the chauffeur from ep 1 that's so cute 🥺

-- 'Trent, what do you love?' and Trent's face of absolute panic.... No one's ever asked him that before 🥺

-- Trent's slow realisation that Ted really is just so refreshingly earnest all the time... Poetry

-- 'I can't help but root for him' like i know the point is that Trent is the layman viewer, contextually as a standin for the average community member but in meta as a standin for the viewer of the tv show, someone who's most likely familiar with sports dramas, so Trent falling in love with Ted is actually a great allegory for fans of the show. Also I'm gay and want those middle aged men to fuck nasty on screen even if i know it's never gonna happen. That's simply my cross to bear 🫡

[rosecoloredknight]

Ask game~ 31 ...btw you seem so kind,please protect yourself ,don't let people play with your heart , you deserve all the best :)🌸

some songs for your playlist 💫:wye oak -civilian,jome cinnamon and jorge ben jor -chove chuva

31. Something you did and you are proud of?

Im really proud of that time i stood up for a UC (unaccompanied child) after he was struck by the at risk UC i was assigned under my care that day the incident transpired.

Quick backstory: a couple weeks ago we received this UC that migrated from Nicaragua, which is not unusual, we receive UC from a variety of countries down from the South America regions. However, this UC at the time was the youngest (five years old) and would not listen to instructions, run away from classes, and aggressive towards others and himself, which immediately marked him as an at-risk UC, meaning 1 on 1 supervision only.

Oh, almost forgot, the UC had an brother as well who was there (seven years old) whom was also placed on a 1 on 1 care for the same reason, heck i even accompanied that UC to the hospital when he was put to sleep due to destroying his room and attacking the other Youth Care Workers. I worked from 2pm to 4am that day ugh because we got released (kicked out) of the hospital after he was visited by a mental health specialist and we waited in the visitor room till one of the directors came.

Agh- back to the point. Supervisors realized that both UC respinded well to me so they started placing them under my care.

However, kids are unpredictable, especially an at-risk one so it's difficult to prepare for the mood swings. I'm so sorry for all of this but if you're still reading this, thank you for your patience.

The at-risk UC attacked an another UC, but i was able to lessen the blow by grabbing the UC arms as he strucked the other UC.

Qhat ended up happening was that the supervisors, did not let me write an IR (Incident Report) right away, which is a must in the protocol/policy, and where trying to aggressively admit that i coached the kid into thinking he was hit which was extremely disrespectful to me because right away i knew they just didn't want to document the incident and where being irresponsible. I ended up standing my ground, called them out, and told them "if im wrong, the video, (which there was a camera outside when ot happened) will prove that, but we're going to agree to disagree here." And they just left it as it was.

The next day, i spoke to the director who oversees the supervisors and ycw and she told me that i did everything right and that i should have been allowed to submit the IR immediately.

Before work started, the supervisors reiterated that and they definitely got in trouble. I was really proud of myself because i stood up against them in defense of a UC who was attacked but they didn't want to acknowledge it.

Its a rollercoaster but there you go.

Hopefully i made sense.

*****

Thank you so much for saying that ♥️ I'll do my best in protecting my heart and not allowing those who don't care about my friendship or effort continuing to be a part of my life.

Also, NEW MUSIC!!!?! yay!! I'll be sure to write them down and give them a shot 😊😊

Again, I appreciate this ask, thank you.

—

Send me a number!!