#and the gym challenge is the perfect reason to get the hell out of town so he takes it

[kingofanemptyworld]

I’m still thinking about Umemiya’s team as well as everyone else involved in the AU but! For now! Take our beloved blushy boy!

Current Team:

Absol (Partner Pokemon)

Riolu

Eevee

Togepi

Pichu

To address the obvious theme here: friendship. Yes, they’re also all adorable and Sakura deserves cute things, but primarily they’re a good representation of his canon-typical character growth — as in, you’re going to see these babies evolve at crucial moments during Sakura’s journey, and almost exclusively to show he’s opened his heart to another traveling companion.

And then there’s Absol, my personal favorite misunderstood Pokemon. A so-called harbinger of disaster who’s actually vital to preventing loss of life and resources. It’s my favorite pick for Sakura because it’s just so damn fitting for who he is and how his friends come to see him.

I’m leaving the last spot open for now but I’m leaning towards having him run into Type: Null at some point (don’t ask me how, this is all vibes and no plot at this point). It’s another friendship evolution so it’s especially good for this line-up, plus I appreciate that its in-game relevance lines up with Sakura’s canon themes again.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Love On-Set (Pt. 04 of 10)

Pairing: Dacre Montgomery X Reader

Summary: You knew acting on Stranger Things season 3 would be a challenge, and you also knew, from the start, you'd have to work closely with Dacre Montgomery. But is wasn't a big deal for you, since this is your job and you're determined to act professionally. You had it all figured out, or so you thought, until the moment you were out face to face with Dacre. Then, this job became a lot harder than it was supposed to be, since you can't seem to focus whenever you're around Dacre. And you'll have to be around him a lot until the end of production.

Word count: 3K

<- Previous part (03)

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{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

Breaking Character

You meet Dacre at the entrance of the hotel's gym, which is a little crowded already. He guides you in and you decide to start with the bike. Dacre goes straight for the weights, obviously. But you manage to get a bike that gives you a perfect sight of where he is, and as you work out, you watch him. He gives you a few glances, but you manage to look away just in time. At least you hope you do. After a while, you decide to move to the treadmill to run for a few minutes. Thanks to the weekly visits to the local gym near your house, you're able to keep up the pace for a good amount of time before getting tired and deciding to stop. Dacre is still doing his stuff, so after refilling your bottle with cold water, you walk over where he is, sitting on a bench right before him. He's currently lifting a barbell that looks unbelievably heavy.

“Are you done already?” He asks in a sassy tone.

“I'll get a few more followers at your expanse just because I didn't like your tone, Mr. Montgomery.” Taking your phone, you open your Instagram and start making a video of Dacre. He looks incredible, so handsome right now, and the fact that he's shirtless only makes it better. You have to control yourself not to check him out more than you should. “Straight to my Instagram story.” You tell him as you put some emojis on the video and tags Dacre before sharing it with the whole world.

“Come here for a second.” He says, laying the barbell down.

“What for? If you think I can lift any of those things you must be going completely insane.” Despite being suspicious you stand up, leaving your phone on the bench.

As you walk over him, Dacre hands over his phone to a dark-haired man who was switching weights. “Can you record this for me?” You hear him asking. “Just a few seconds.” He kindly smiles and thanks to the man when he nods.

“Are you going to prank me or something?” You stop before him, arms crossed. Without saying anything, Dacre pulls you with him, placing you between him and the barbell. “Dacre, what–” You're cut short when he suddenly bends down and picks the bar up again, quickly standing up straight, trapping you in between his body and the bar. “What the hell, Dacre?”

“Hold it, c'mon.”

“I won't hold this thing. I can't lift it.” Keeping your voice low, you give the man with Dacre's phone a glance. He's actually doing what Dacre asked, filming you two doing whatever this is.

“Trust me.” It's his lower voice, right in your ear that makes you surrender and do it, holding the bar a few inches away from where his hand is holding it. Slowly, he starts moving. Everything you can do is mimic his movement, your eyes wandering from the bar to his right arm, noticing how his muscles are tense. “It's not that hard is it?”

“Not when I'm lifting exactly zero pounds.” You snap back, being forced to give a step back when Dacre brings the bell bar way too close to your body, and your back collides against his chest.

“That's enough, thanks, buddy.” It takes a while for you to understand he's talking to the guy with his phone. The man nods and puts the phone down before moving away, back into doing anything he was doing before. And probably wondering what the hell is going on with you two.

“Are you going to post that video?”

“Yup.”

“Really?” Doesn't he know that it will get people talking?

“Why not?” Dacre drops the bar suddenly, and it makes a loud thud when it hits the floor, making you give a little jump.

“Damn it, Dacre!” You exclaim, a hand on your heart. “What about not killing your co-star before she finishes shooting the show?” Still a little startled, heart racing, and not only for the bar falling, you go back to the bench to get your phone.

“Now I'm exhausted already. How am I supposed to go to work?” Checking your feed, you see there are already a lot of people answering to your video, mostly your friends asking about Dacre... And some of your co-stars, but no reason to answer since you'll have to face them eventually.

“Done.” He says, and at the same time, you see the notification. Clicking on it, you're redirected to Dacre's story, where you see the short video of him standing behind you, ‘helping’ you lift the bar. In bright red letters, he wrote ‘the best personal trainer (Y/N) could ever get’.

He really did it. And he doesn't seem to care. “So you just made me look like an idiot. I'll get back at you for that.”

“Idiot? You look so hot in this video, I almost reconsidered posting it.”

“Me?” It comes out abruptly because you just can't believe it. Any of it. You can't believe he posted the video, you can't believe he just said you looked hot. You're confused and you need time to clear your mind. “I really think we should go now. Shower, have lunch, and get ready to work.” It will sound like you're running away, but you need some time away from Dacre. Your heart needs a break from beating so fast.

“Yeah, we probably should.” He puts his phone in his pocket before making his way out of the gym with you. “Why don't you come over to my room? I can get some room service and then we head off to set. It's just us so we can go in my car.”

“Sure.” You're quick to answer, immediately changing your mind. “I can be there in thirty minutes.”

“Room 1404.”

“Alright.”

Thankfully, there are no incidents during lunch. You two just chat and joke around, and almost get on set late. The first scene is much more simple. It's just Amy and Billy bumping into each other, a small chat before they part ways, both annoyed at each other. Once that's done, you change into the second outfit, and the make-up and hairstyle it slightly changed. Night has already fallen when you get into position, waiting for the signal.

In this scene, Billy finds Amy walking home alone, at night. He's pissed that she's so reckless after they just learned about the Mind Flayer, in a scene that will still be shot. So when she refused to go with him, they have an argument. It's a turning point, with the tension between then being explored further, leading into a partial confession and an almost kiss. That's how James calls this scene.

And, as if the scene itself wasn't enough, you're mind is still at what happened at the gym. This will be hard. Maybe as hard as the actual kissing scene.

“Alright. Ready, everyone... And action!”

You start walking fast, the camera before you easily following your pace.

“Amy, get inside that damn car right now,” Billy says, seconds before reaching you and grabbing your arm, forcing you to stop. “You're not walking home this late with that damn Mind Flayer out there.”

“Stop–” Giving your arm a push, he lets go. “–trying to act as if you care. I know you don't.”

“If I didn't care do you really think I'd be here?” He steps closer, towering over you, and you have no choice but to step back. “Running after you like an idiot?” Your back hits a car parked on the sidewalk, just at the right place. “Do you really think I'd put any effort into trying to drag your ass out of the street?” Dacre slams both his hand on the car, and you make sure to make Amy give a little jump, followed by an annoyed expression.

“I know about the little games you play, Hargrove. I won't fall for them.” Raising your voice on the last sentence, you try to push him away, uselessly.

“It's funny how everyone in this town thinks they know me.”

“Oh, I don't. I don't think about you, Hargrove. At all.” With a sassy smile, you wait for his reply.

But it doesn't come. He just stands there, as his eyes change. From irritation to... Kindness. And you recognize Dacre as he breaks through Billy. “But I think about you. I think about you all the time.” Your heart starts racing again, more than before because this is not Billy. And you know the difference very well.

Frozen, not sure if you should take this as improvisation and follow his lead, you rest your back against the car, as Dacre follows your movement, his face now only two inches away.

“Cut!” The shout brings you back to reality, and Dacre immediately steps away. “I like what you're doing, but I don't think the line fits well on the scene.”

“My bad.” Dacre apologizes.

“Again. From the moment you slam your hands on the car.” James commands and you go back into position. “Action!”

“I know about the little games you play, Hargrove. I won't fall for them.”

“It's funny how everyone in this town thinks they know me.”

“I don't. I don't think about you, Hargrove. At all.” It's hard to keep Amy's mean smile on, not to break character and... You don't even know. But this is getting a little too hard to handle.

“Why do I have the feeling you're lying to me, princess?” He leans closer, so close Amy has no choice but to turn her head away, and when you move, you feel his breath in your neck.

“If you don't get the hell away from me right now, I swear–”

“I can't wait to see what you'll do.”

Then Amy snaps, pushing Billy away, hands on his chest, using all the strength she can manage. She's beyond pissed now, she's upset. Frustrated with her dangerous feelings towards the bad boy. “You're such a jerk!” You exclaim as Dacre gives a few steps back. “You know exactly what you're doing and you keep doing it!” The pushing turns into slaps, as Amy tries to get rid of Billy's arms, holding her. “I don't wanna be one of your flings so stay the hell away from me.”

“What do you wanna be then?” He asks, arms keeping you still, dangerously close to his body.

“I–” You're cut short when Dacre's hand comes to your cheek. For a moment you think he'll kiss you, your skin burning under his touch. The lines are forgotten, and it doesn't matter how hard you try, you can't remember it.

Then a loud noise startles you, bringing Amy back and Dacre falls back into character, looking at something over your shoulder. “We gotta get out of here.” He follows the script and you do the same, setting free from his grip.

“I'm not going with you!” Then it happens, Billy bends over and grabs Amy's legs, throwing her over his shoulder. The sudden change makes you gasp for air, quickly following to the next line. “What the hell? Put me down right now!” You yell, noticing how some of the extras start acting, moving from inside the houses to the porch to see what's the commotion about. “I'm not kidding, Billy. Put me the hell down!”

He only laughs as you push his back, swinging your legs. Dacre tightens the grip on your thighs, forcing you to stop moving. “You're very stubborn.” He mutters under his breath, finally putting you down and opening the passenger door. “Get. In. I won't let you walk–”

“Cut! Cut!” James says, quite impatient. “I want you to do something else there. From the moment you put her down, I want another confrontation. Do you guys think you can improvise it?”

“Yeah.” You mutter as Dacre nods.

“Good. Get in position then.” He orders and Dacre picks you up again, slower this time since there's no need for Billy's rush. “Alright. Action.”

“You're very stubborn.” He repeats as you're put back down, and you wonder what to do next. But when Dacre pushes you against the car, in a similar position from some minutes earlier, your mind threatens to go blank again. “Let's settle this, princess.” The different weight on the last word almost makes you break character, but to laugh this time. “If you don't get inside this damn car immediately and stop complaining, I will kiss you. Right here, right now. And I know you won't resist me.”

You're sure both Amy and you are paralyzed now, unable to move, or think, and you have to struggle to get your brain to work again. Dacre's eyes are so soft, you can't find Billy in them. You wonder if the cameras can get it... You wish there weren't so many cameras and lights on both of you now. “You wouldn't do that.” The words find a way out, thankfully.

“Really?” Dacre's arm encircles your waist suddenly, pulling you close, pressing you against his chest. “Try me.”

If you don't move, Amy or not, you'll kiss him. You won't even wait for Billy to fulfill his threat. So your hands nervously search for the door handle, breathing out in relief when you find it. As you turn around to open the door, his grip still holds you, and you're only free when you step inside the car, closing the door shut a little too violently. With your eyes focused on the car parked a few feets ahead, you only listen when Dacre gets in the driver's seat.

“Alright, cut!” Relieved this is over, you hope not to do it again. It'll be the death of you. “It was amazing. Whatever the two of you have going on, it's great. If you keep this level, the kissing scene will be one of this season's best moments.”

Glad that the day is over, you wave at Dacre before getting out of the car and heading to your dressing room. Your head won't stop spinning, thinking, replaying what just happened. It was only Billy... Right? All those times you thought it was Dacre, it wasn't. You can't allow yourself to believe that. Part of you wish you didn't come here with Dacre, but you did, so you have to meet him again when you're ready to go. The ride back to the hotel is filled with light conversations, nothing about the scenes you just did. But there's an elephant in the room, you can feel it, and you think Dacre feels it too, by the glances he gives you every now and then. Sometimes it looks like he'll say something, then he just gives up. You wonder if you should say it, end the tension. Ask him if you did something wrong. But every time you feel the words are just about to flow out, you blush and look away.

How are you supposed to get the kissing done when you're so... Lost.

But when you reach the elevators, you decide to ask him. You decide to be brave for once and follow Dacre's advice of not holding everything back. He did say he'd listen, that he wouldn't be scared. “You broke character, didn't you?” It comes out suddenly, and he immediately looks at you as you lean against the elevator mirror.

“Half a dozen times.” He answers after taking a deep breath. “And so did you... Right?”

“Quite a few times, yes.” Looking down, you swallow hard. “It was a disaster. Well, almost.”

“Why?”

“Because I–” You're damn phone ringing cuts you off, and, rolling your eyes, you pick it up. “It's Natalia.”

“Answer her. It's my floor anyway.” Dacre gestures at door, and right above it, you see the number. “We'll talk later, alright?”

“Yes.” You mutter, a little sad that the doors just opened.

“Bye.” Dacre leans closer for a quick hug and to place a kiss on your cheek, as he's been usually doing.

As you watch him leave, the doors closing again and separating the two of you, you finally answer Natalia. “Hey. What's up?”

“(Y/N). Are you in your room?” As she speaks, you hear Millie saying something in the background.

“I'll be getting there in a minute.”

“Alright.” Then she hangs up.

You have sixty seconds to recover from the day before meeting Natalia and Millie at your door. Smiling in a very weird way. As you approach, taking the card from your pocket, you raise an eyebrow. “Something wrong?” You ask as you open the door, gesturing for them to get inside.

“No... Of course not.” Millie mutters, searching for something on her phone. “Just this.” When she shows you the screen, you sigh. It's the video Dacre posted on his Instagram story.

“That was just... We were at the gym. Working out.” It's stupid to do this. They won't let it go. Throwing yourself on the couch, you cover your head with a pillow.

“What you call ‘working out’ I call flirting.” Natalia states, and when Millie pulls the pillow away, you see Natalia bending over the back of the couch as Millie sits down next to your legs.

“But nobody was flirting. We were just making fun of each other.” You wait for them to say something. Anything. But they don't. The two girls just keep staring at you, smirking. If they only knew what happened today... “What?”

“You like Dacre, don't you?” Millie inquires, folding a leg under her.

The first instinct is to say no, and the word is at the tip of your tongue. But it doesn't come out because you suddenly realize it would be a lie. It gets stuck, as it washes over you. Nobody has asked this before, and you've been avoiding to think about it. But now that the right words were said, you know it. “Damn it.” Muttering under your breath, you cover both your eyes.

“We got our answer.” Natalia sing-songs.

“He likes you too. You know that, right?”

“Of course he doesn't, Millie. Just because he's nice to me it doesn't mean–”

“There's a huge difference between being nice and doing what he's doing, believe me.” Millie stands up, pacing around with both hands on her hips. “Now, tell us everything.”

×

@baker151910 @shinydixon @dreamin-of-dacre @hanoi15 @lickmymelanin @skykittystuff @foccus @multific @uncookspaget @kellysimagines

[angst-fairygodmother]

i love ur stuff!!! do u think u could write something like diego and the reader not liking eachother (maybe the reader is friends with klaus or allison or someone) and then slowly they begin to like eachother ??? :0

A/N: Thank you so much for the sweet message Nonny ☺ it was a lovely prompt, and I hope you enjoy. Word Count: 2060 Content Warning: mild swearing

“Hey Y/N, why don’t you like Diego?” Klaus asked one evening as the two of you lounged on your couch watching Allison’s latest red carpet event.

“Is that a serious question?” you counter with a raised eyebrow, popping another piece of popcorn in your mouth.

“Yeah. I mean, you get along with everyone else, literally. But not Diego.”

“I don’t get along with everyone else. And I just…think he’s jerk.”

“He is. But so’s Luther and you like him fine.”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, I don’t know how to explain it. I just, every time I talk to your brother I get filled with this overwhelming desire to hit something.”

Klaus started laughing and you raised an eyebrow questioningly. He just shook his head, still laughing. However, he dropped the subject after that and you decided not to push him on what might have been so funny.

~

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smirk, still holding onto your arm.

“Oh don’t do that, Diego,” you snapped. “Don’t act like you did me some favor and I should be grateful.”

“I just saved your life, Y/N.”

“It was a guy on a bike; I think I would have been fine. I can take care of myself.” You folded your arms over your chest, pulling out of his grasp in the process. “What are you even doing here?”

He shrugged. “Out for a walk.”

“Really? In this part of town nowhere near anything you usually have to do with?”

He shrugged. “It was a long walk.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m outta here.”

“Not gonna offer to buy me dinner for saving your life?” he called after you as you started to walk away.

“In your dreams Hargreeves,” you shot back.

~

The next time you saw Diego, you had called him to meet you and he seemed quite surprised when he showed up to the park.

“What’s going on, Y/N? No offense, but you were the last person I was expecting to hear from,” he asked, trying to hide the fact that concern had made him run most of the way there.

“It’s Klaus. He hasn’t been by in a while and he missed our weekly breakfasts. He never does that, especially since I pay. So I’m worried and…I couldn’t think of anyone else who might be able to help. Sorry to bother you.” You shifted uncomfortably and bit your lip, worried that you had annoyed him and that he would refuse to help.

“Shit,” he sighed, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. “Alright, I’ll help you look for him. But the kind of places he hangs out…we probably shouldn’t split up, even if it would let us cover more ground.”

“That’s kind of what I was thinking too. I figured I should call someone in for backup.” You shrugged and forced a smile.

The two of you walked in silence for a while, figuring that you would be more likely to actually spot him if you moved on foot than by car, even if it would take you more time. And, if you were being honest, you didn’t mind the amount of time. You found that when you weren’t actively fighting, you appreciated the presence of the other Hargreeves. You certainly felt safe with him beside you, between the knives and the subtle strength that you could see in his stance and the muscles that his clothing clung to.

“Is there something going on between you and Klaus?” he asked suddenly after a while of quiet.

“What? No. He’s my best friend. I don’t…I don’t see him like that.”

He gave you a look that suggested he didn’t quite believe you.

“I’m serious. I love him sure, but the same way I love my baby sister. I want the world for him and would do anything for him but…romantically…blegh.” You scrunched up your face in disgust at the thought and the man beside you laughed.

“So if not my brother…is there someone special?”

You fell silent, studying Diego through the corner of your eye. Part of you itched to snap that it was none of his business. The other part of you, quite rebelliously, admired the slope of his shoulders beneath his black sweater and the cut of his jaw, how the long scar above his ear interrupted his smooth, almost militaristic appearance and made him more attractive, more dangerous looking.

“No,” you said, after maybe too long of silently enjoying the view of him. “No one’s seemed worth my time.”

“You really think highly of yourself don’t you?” he laughed.

“What?”

“’No one’s seemed worth my time,’” he quoted back, “sounds awfully pretentious.”

You felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “No…I just meant that I’ve dated quite a few duds in the past, and I don’t see the point in wasting my time. If I don’t feel a connection with the person before we go out…” you shrugged. “Maybe it’s high maintenance, but I’d rather be that than miserable.”

He nodded and stayed silent. A quick glance over at him showed that he was lost in thought.

As the two of you patrolled, looking for any sign of Klaus, you found yourself wondering more and more about the mysterious “Number Two.” But after several hours, even though you were enjoying your, mostly silent, time together, you were growing frustrated.

“This is hopeless,” you groaned. “It’s going to take the two of us days to canvass the whole city, and if he’s been checked in somewhere, we still won’t find him.”

“You’re probably right, Y/N,” Diego said with a nod. “Let’s grab some lunch and then we can start—”

“Calling the usual rehab centers,” you finished at the same time as him. “Sounds like an excellent plan.”

He smiled softly at you and reached out, as if offering you his hand to hold before quickly retreating and shoving them into his pockets.

“Do you like Greek? I know a great Greek diner nearby,” he offered.

~

After that day, you found yourself spending more time with Diego, realizing your initial distaste was misguided, a snap judgement that he really didn’t deserve. One afternoon, Klaus caught you chatting with his brother on the phone, he had called to invite you to one of his boxing matches, and twirling the cord between your fingers as you did.

“Oh. My. God.” he cried out, slapping his hands to either side of his face with exaggerated shock. “You liiiike him.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, punching him lightly, a hot blush creeping across your face at the thought of Diego potentially hearing.

“What was that?” he asked, voice tinny through the receiver.

“Nothing, just your idiot brother.”

You heard him chuckled. “I see. Well, anyway, the gym is kinda out of the way so it can be hard to find, so how about I meet you at your place and we can walk there together?”

“You don’t have to do that Diego.”

“But maybe I want to?”

“O-oh,” you stammered, thrown by the warmth in his voice. “Well, in that case, that sounds nice.”

“Good. It’s a date.”

“A date?” you raised your eyebrow even though he couldn’t see it and tried your best to ignore Klaus’s flailing and pumping his fist excitedly in the air.

“Yeah, a date. I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“Okay, see you later Diego.”

You were smiling when you hung up the phone, and the warmth in your chest made you feel like you were floating. So much so that you were completely compliant to Klaus dragging you through the apartment the two of you sort of shared, insistent on picking out the “perfect outfit” for you to “stun his brother so hard he drops in shock and awe.”

~

The night of the date, you fidgeted nervously on your couch, bouncing your leg and chewing on the corner of your thumbnail, waiting for Diego to get there. A thousand thoughts a minute ran through your mind and you stomach twisted itself in knots. You tried to tell yourself you were being ridiculous, the two of you had become friends over the past several weeks, and there was no reason to think this evening was going to be any different, just because Diego had said it was going to be a date.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear the buzzer or notice Klaus rushing to greet his brother until Diego stood in the doorway, trying to get around his brother to say hello.

“If you ever hurt her Diego,” Klaus said sternly, poking an index finger against his brother’s chest, blocking the short hallway of your apartment.

Diego raised an eyebrow as if challenging whether Klaus was actually trying to threaten him.

“If you ever hurt her, my beloved brother or not, I will eat your shoelaces,” Klaus continued, undaunted, eyes narrowed and face the picture of seriousness.

“What?”

“Every single shoelace. Slurp ‘em up like spaghetti. Inconvenient as hell.”

“Klaus, you are my very best friend and I love you,” you interrupted, rising to go and stand by the two, equally unable to get Klaus out from between. “But what the fuck? Please don’t eat shoelaces in my defense. God that is the weirdest sentence I’ve ever said…”

“Yeah, and we can’t afford to take to the vet and have them removed when they tangle around your intestines,” Diego added, rolling his eyes. “We’ll have to just put you down.”

“Unsettling and inconveniencing my family and dying? Best day ever!” Klaus gave a little clap and jump of joy, which quickly morphed into an apologetic look when he glanced over his shoulder and saw your glare.

“Well, I’ll get out of your way. You two crazy kids have fun now,” he said cheerfully, as if the previous conversation hadn’t happened. “Don’t do anything I would do!”

You rolled your eyes as he sidled past back to the living room, giving you an affectionate pat on the shoulder as he did.

Diego felt his jaw drop as he took in your outfit. It wasn’t quite your usual style, but was enough like you to not feel like you were trying so hard. And you looked stunning in it.

“Wow,” he eventually breathed, causing you to chuckle and rub the back of your neck nervously. “You look…I don’t know if I’m going to be able to focus on the fight with you looking like that.”

“It was Klaus’s idea,” you mumbled. “I know it’s a bit much…”

“No!” he assured, a little too quickly. “It’s great…you look great.”

You shot him a slightly flirtatious smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” You let your eyes rove over his tight-fitted jeans and Henley, in black of course.

“C-c-can I kiss you?” he stammered, stepping closer. “For luck?”

You responded by snaking your arms around his neck and leaning in to press your lips to his. He groaned into the kiss, hands coming to rest on your hips, fingers digging into your sides and pulling you closer. Gently, he backed you up the few steps necessary to pin you against your wall, running his tongue over your lower lip at the same time. You let out a little gasp as you bumped into the plaster and he took the opportunity to slip in and begin exploring your mouth.

Grasping his hair in your fist, you eventually pulled him away from you to drink deeply of the air, trying to ignore the wave of desire that shot through you when the action made him moan hungrily.

“We should stop,” you panted.

“Why?” he responded, equally out of breath and fighting your grip to kiss the side of your neck.

“You have a match to get to. Wouldn’t this be so much better as a reward for winning it?” You teased lightly. “And somewhere your brother wasn’t…?”

He laughed. “You have a point there. I want you all to myself.”

“Well then get a move on. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

He threaded his fingers through yours as he led you through the door.

“Don’t wait up!” you called back over your shoulder to Klaus, making Diego groan once more and you smirked. Tonight was shaping up to be even better than you could have hoped.

[diyunho]

The Joker X Reader - “Ghost Driver”

When The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations. Turbo is The King’s Ghost Driver and although she’s a legend, her life is far from perfect.

Part 2

“Where’s all your stuff?!” Frost asks since the apartment is pretty much empty.

“Gave it to Adam,” you sulk. “He wouldn’t sign the divorce papers so I gave in; I don’t even care… I’m glad he’s out of here.”

Jonny gazes at you in silence, a million words rushing through his mind and The Joker’s henchman can’t articulate anything close to what he would like to vociferate besides foolish small talk:

“How are you holding up?”

“Not sure… I don’t even know what the hell happened to us…It used to be so great and then he started making comments about my weight, gossiping with his friends behind my back, then cheated… I couldn’t handle it,” Y/N confesses although Frost is already acquainted with the dreadful story of her crumbled marriage.

“Not what the hell happened to us,” he decides to underline his personal opinion. “I think the question should be what the hell happened to him: you didn’t do anything wrong. And I believe you look perfect,” he mumbles the last sentence.

“What was that?” you search the fridge for his favorite soda.

“Nothing... nothing…”

“Here you go,” you offer the cold Fanta to a distraught companion.

“Thanks, Y/N. Here’s the money for tonight,” he gives you the envelope. “As usually, half now , half after the job is done.”

“OK,” you accept the terms without issues because it’s how The Clown Prince of Crime pays for your services. “Jonny, why is there an extra thousand dollars in here?!”

“Ummm…” the man tries to find a reasonable explanation yet Y/N can’t accept his strategy.

“Should I text Mister Joker and thank him for the bonus?”

“Nope,” he bites on his lip.

“I appreciate it,” you return the extra cash to Frost. ”I’m fine. Really.”

“Well…” he takes the bills and stashes them in his wallet, “… let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“I promise I will, “ you smile. “I swear on my Turbo honor,” the joke makes him smile also.

“Hey Y/N… I was thinking… maybe one of these days, if you feel like it, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to… ”

Frost’s phone keeps ringing and he retrieves from his suit’s pocket, annoyed about the interruption.

“It’s Audra,” he huffs while declining the call.

“Might be important,” you sort of urge him to answer.

“Meh, I doubt it. She will chew my ears off regarding our relationship that ended 3 months ago. I’m not interested,” he strolls towards the exit due to another pressing matter he has to attend. “I have to go, Mister Joker has a meeting soon; I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“See you,” you wave and lock the door when your cell alerts of an incoming text from The Joker.

Downloading two pictures… Pictures?!

“Oh…my… God…!” you hold your breath when the first image depicts a totally naked King of Gotham reflected in the mirror at his gym and squeal when the second one shows a close up of his mid-section.

“Oh my God!” you burst out laughing as you admire the unexpected missive. “Heeeelllo Mister Joker,” you mutter and actual phrases pop up on your screen.

“I sent these to the wrong number, Y/N. Ignore and erase them!”

“Of course, sir!” you immediately reply with no intention of doing it for the moment.

Why?

The hilarious error shook you up from apathy and it’s worth saving those pics for a bit longer since you can’t remember the last time something got your attention after the messy divorce.

***************

11:49 PM

The Joker is the first one to get in the car next to you, firmly clutching to his suitcase full of diamonds freshly stolen from “Diamond Emporium” store on Glissan Avenue. You notice the other goons sneaking to the cars deliberately positioned around nearby streets for tonight’s robbery. How come J doesn’t go with them?

The dilemma is simple:

The green haired menace typically arrives with his regular crew when he plans heists but has Y/N pick him up after the job is done.

“Hi Mister Joker,” you greet your employer.

“Hey,” he acknowledges your presence. “Did you delete the pictures?” The Joker gets straight to the point.

“Yes,” you lie and tell the truth in the same time: you erased the whole body image but kept the close up one for future reference.

“Good. What did you think?” the hasty interrogation prompts a careful chosen response.

“You look very…,” and you pause in order to find the correct term since a tiny mistake could set him off. “… Healthy, Mister Joker.”

“I do,” he huffs quite pleased with your statement.

You wish to add more but Frost and the new hire squeeze in the back seat awaiting orders.

“You’re in luck kid,” Jonny places a box filled with precious gems at his feet. “Your first assignment and you get to meet Turbo.”

The young man opens his mouth in amazement as you move the fingers from your right hand in the air instead of a proper introduction.

“You’re Turbo?! I thought you’re a guy!” Nick blurs out and Frost punches him in the head, displeased with the observation.

“Sounds empty,” you growl while The Clown snorts.

“My Ghost Driver A GUY??!! Ha-ha-ha-ha!” the unnerving, screechy noises make the newbie shrivel up. “Turbo, A GUY!” he continues to amuse himself before giving Nick a psychotic glare.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, I meant no disrespect,” he nervously stutters especially since J called you “his”.

The poor bastard’s oblivious about what the label implies in The Clown’s universe: when The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations.

“Where the fuck did you find this buffoon?” you chew on your gum, irritated.

“He’s Richard’s nephew,” Jonny sucks on his teeth.

“Uncle Panda is infinitely smarter,” Y/N barks at the revelation.

“I’m truly sorry,” Nick apologizes again and you cut him off.

“Save it!... … I hear sirens,” you slowly inhale and The King calmly articulates:

“I forgot to mention I accidentally triggered the silent alarm.”

Translation: he did it on purpose.

You snicker at the first lights blinking in the distance, excited to have some fun after stressing so much in the past weeks. The vehicles belonging to the gang scatter in different directions as you step on the gas pedal, accelerating towards the numerous police cars answering to the 10-64 code.

“That’s my girl!” J cracks his neck, already hyped at the adrenaline rush burning his veins: The Ghost Driver is perfect to offer him what he craves and she always delivers.

That’s why Turbo is his.

************

4:37 AM

“Hi…Mister…Mister Joker…” you attempt to talk without slurring.

“It’s Ella,” his girlfriend snarls.

“Why…where is he?” you guzzle down half of glass of wine, adamant in having a chat with your boss.

“Well, after you two had a merry time being chased by cops all over town, he came home and now he’s sorting out the diamonds,” the woman bitterly reports.

“I wanna talk to him,” you sniffle and drink some more alcohol.

“You just saw him. I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

“I’m sure it can’t!” you shout. “I just received important information he’d be i…interested in,” you finally make it through the whole sentence.

Ella stomps in the living room, vexed at your behavior.

“It’s Turbo,” she shoves the phone in his fingers. “The bitch is wasted!”

“What did you call me?!” the appalled Y/N is about to burst when The Joker’s deep voice resonates I her ear.  

“Yeah?”

“Sir,” you correct your bitter tone. “I h-have very important news!”

“I’m listening,” J ignores his woman as she cusses you out.

“I have to tell you in person, sir. Let’s go on a date and I’ll reveal the entire shocking...”

“Huh?!”

“I have crucial information…”

“Quit repeating yourself!” The Joker interrupts. “You’re not making any sense. Go to sleep and we’ll catch up after you sober up.”

“But I wanna go on date Mister Joker,” you gulp the rest of the wine and prepare for a fourth round.

“Why, because I look healthy?” J mocks and Ella sighs, not understanding the odd conversation she’s witnessing. “… …. … Hello?”

A loud thud, then dialing tone at the other end of the line.

“I think she passed out,” The King of Gotham concludes, not particularly worried at the sudden halt of your monologue.

***************

3 Days Later

The late meeting is almost done: the buyers already purchased the diamonds J had for sale, among them your ex-husband Adam that has a small crowd gathered next to him; he’s supposedly famous for his crappy attitude enjoyed by jerks sharing the same ludicrous humor.

“You know I’m sensible when it comes to challenges and I couldn’t grasp why she doesn’t want my help in shedding a few pounds. What’s the harm in that?! I love curves but sometimes I don’t, ya’ know?” he winks and the group laughs.

The Joker is arranging money in duffle bags, his concentration diverted by the impromptu comedic performance. What the heck are they yapping about?

Frost is certainly in a foul mood: J can guess his trusted henchman is worked up since the usual chilled Jonny can’t control his anger.

“What’s wrong with being voluptuous, hm?” he addresses Adam and it clicks for The Joker: this is about Y/N.

“Nothing at all,” he smirks and the laughter around the room dies out because not too many dare screwing with Jonny Frost. “I was merely emphasizing that if a woman can’t lose weight, she’s doomed. Y/N lost me, how is she going to get another stud if she…”

“Perhaps she’s not interested in pieces of shit; definitely had her share!” Frost grumbles at the absurd remarks.

The Joker has no clue about what’s going on, yet he won’t deny today’s entertainment is far from boring.

“Give me a break!” Adam scoffs. “Who’d sniff her tail if she refuses to get skinnier? Ooohhh, wait a minute, we might have an admirer,” he arrogantly slides your cell out of his coat. “I was browsing her pictures and what do you know? A gentleman sent Y/N a picture of his junk three days ago. I am deeply sorry, my bad. She does have somebody sniffing her tail. What kind of loser sends images of his dangling goodies to another dude’s wife?!” 

“Ex-wife!” Jonny sneers whilst J’s calculation leads to an easy verdict: you kept one pic.

“Whose junk is this?! Is it yours?” your estranged spouse accuses Frost without any evidence.

“It’s my junk,” The Joker’s serene revelation makes everyone freeze: they have no idea how to react at the puzzling escalation of events.

Is he bluffing?!

“I wasn’t aware I require permission in order to text whatever I desire to whomever I want.”

Awkward silence and Frost approaches Adam, boiling with indignation.

“Why do you have Y/N’s phone?”

Your husband doesn’t have a chance to justify his action: Jonny’s punch throws him to the ground, immediately followed by his unsettling ultimatum.  

“You son of a bitch, what did you do to her?”

Your former husband gets on his elbow ready to attack when The King’s stern inquiry stops his motion:

“WHERE.IS.MY.TURBO?”

****************

After 1 hour

Frost lifts you higher in his arms while you keep wheezing, trying to regain control.

“I’m sorry…I attacked you,” the weakened Y/N whispers. “I thought you were Adam...”

After being abducted and left to starve for the last 3 days, you had one clear purpose: to kill the guy that did it. Adam surely crossed the line with his despicable plan of making you lose weight: he creeped in your apartment, kidnapped you and took you to his home where you were chained in the cellar until Jonny found you. The basement was dark and you couldn’t see, that’s why you used whatever strength you had left in order to attack the individual responsible for your misfortune.

Turned out it was actually a rescue party although Frost is now the proud owner of a beautiful bump courtesy of Y/N.

“No problem,” Jonny takes you to his SUV, carefully laying you down in the passenger’s seat. “How’s your head?” he wipes the dried blood on your cheeks since Adam knocked you out unconscious while you were talking to The Joker after the heist.

“I’m OK,” you start crying, mostly mad at yourself for being such an easy prey, yet you didn’t see it coming.

“You know… It’s OK not to be OK,” Frost opens a bottle of water and gives it to you. “I’ll take you home, you can take a shower and I’ll have the doctor come for an emergency evaluation. Are you hungry?”

“I’m so hungry,” tears stream down your face and Jonny has a great proposal.

“I’ll order some food and if you want me to I can stay with you. After you feel better, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to…”

The Joker rolls his eyes, deciding to emerge from the shadows.

“Wow, this is painful to watch. Frost believes he’s still in high school: basically he’s asking you on a date. There, done. No need to beat around the bush. Jesus!” J scolds about a subject he shouldn’t mess with. “I have a heist next week, you better be good to go by then!” he gestures at the confused duo. “If you’ll excuse me, I have my own date to honor. We’re done here, yes?”

“Yes sir,” Jonny replies for both, unwilling to split hairs with The Joker and his obnoxious aberrations. “Here’s your cell,” he returns the item to you and you snatch it, relieved. You seem to have an outburst of energy as you unlock the secured folder.

“Where’s Adam?”

“I don’t know, we had an altercation at the warehouse then he scrammed,” Frost reports, ogling a strange looking Y/N typing on her phone.

“He won’t be able to hide,” you grin and send the attachment to The Joker.

*************

“We’ll be late for dinner,” Ella kisses The Clown. “I’m not a 100% positive why we had to waste precious time and come for her,” she pouts and drags him after her towards their vehicle.

J’s phone chimes and he stops in his tracks, not expecting a message from you seconds after the encounter.

“Mister Joker, you were very generous to share pictures with me.

Allow me to do the same.

Your Turbo.”

Imagines downloading and he’s not sure what to do when pics appear one by one: frames taken by the private investigator you hired to follow Adam when you suspected he was cheating. The bastard was diligent, but he was eventually caught in the act three days ago.

Who’s the woman he’s with?

The Joker’s Queen.

“What’s wrong?” she frowns at the visible switch in his temper.

The Clown ruthlessly slams Ella against the hood while her cell also receives a text from Y/N:

“Who’s the bitch now?”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[onestowatch]

Artists on Their Favorite and Least Favorite Animal Crossing Villagers

In the world of hard-hitting journalism, few topics are as divisive and polarizing as Animal Crossing, namely the subject of best and worst villagers. From tier lists to spending an obscene amount of Nook Miles tickets in the search of the “perfect” villager, the release of Animal Crossing: New Horizons has brought with it a seedy blackmarket. Want a smug office working cat with heterochromia? Well, I hope you are prepared to shell out upwards of 20 million bells. 

From Queer Eye’s Bobby Berk critiquing players’ virtual homes to Elijah Wood sliding in your DMs to sell turnips, seemingly no one is safe from this newfound reality. So, as we navigate our way through a world in which Bobby isn’t pleased with my island home having a room dedicated solely to turnip storage, we posed one impossible question to a few of our favorite artist friends. “Who is your favorite and least favorite Animal Crossing villager?”

BENEE

"I don’t like Moose because he only ever wants to talk to me about working out, and I don’t like how he calls me shorty! Katt is probably my favourite because she seems interested in having a chat when I approach her."

Griffin McElroy

“Roald is my favorite Animal Crossing villager by an enormous margin, and was the first creature I tracked down once I got my hands on New Horizons. He’s a penguin who falls into the ‘jock’ category, despite the fact that he’s usually chilling in his igloo-house with a sandwich or a cold one in hand. He cares very much about my sick gains, and I appreciate it to no end.

My least favorite villager is Zucker, who is an octopus that most other players seem to love, but boy, he's challenging. His head resembles takoyaki, which is to say, a fried dough ball filled with minced octopus, impaled on a stick and drizzled with brown sauce. What dark magics breathed life into Zucker? Should I want to eat him? Because I kind of do, and I don't need that energy on my island, thanks.”

Dayglow

“Favorite has to be Sparro by far, like woah! He’s so freaking chill. Least favorite was easily Zipper— good riddance. He had such creepy unwelcome vibes.”

mxmtoon

"My favorite Animal Crossing Villager is Stitches because I think he looks like the funniest and he really likes bugs. He lives on a dirt floor, he's an airplane king, and, despite all odds, has flourished and thrived in his life. I don't even know if I have a least favorite but if I had to pick it would be Pate, she's a duck and just really rude. Her eyebrows also look like W's.”

Cavetown

“Villagers can be a very controversial topic in the Animal crossing community. There seems to be two types of people when it comes to villager preferences - the ones who just love them all equally, and the ones who unapologetically have an overwhelming hatred for specific animals in the game. I’m of course totally against bullying in most cases, but animal crossing villagers are the one exception. 

I won’t name names about the ones I hate in the game as not to hit any nerves for anyone reading, but for example there’s this one resident I have - let’s just say her name rhymes with Banberra - who has being going around pissing off all my best friends in town. She leaves my sweet Sydney and Marina walking around furious for no good reason. I’ve been trying to bully her out of my town but she’s been there since the beginning and seems adamant on staying. She’s my least favourite right now because of how she’s been treating my other villagers.

As for favourites, I could go on forever!! In my current town, Poncho was one of my first two villagers and I decided we’re best buds. He’s a jock villager so is always talking about pumping iron, and I love him so much that I built a whole outdoor gym for him in my town. I tend to unconditionally love the Octopus and Frog villagers. He doesn’t really count as a villager, but my favourite character in the whole game is Leif. I would literally put my life on the line if it meant his flowers would bloom perfectly.”

chloe moriondo

“Pietro is my favorite ACNH villager even though I don’t have him on my island (yet)!!!!!  I think he gets a lot of hatred thrown his way for being a clown, which I personally relate to, and he is colorful and cute and fun and sheepy and I would lay down my life for him. He is by far my favorite villager since I got him in my town in New Leaf.

My least favorite villager is Moose, even though I weirdly still respect him for being so ugly and notorious amongst the ACNH community. In fact, I would almost call myself a fan of him just because of how gross and hilarious I think his little manly mouse face is. I would not want him in my town ever, but I am an advocate of Ugly ACNH Villagers’ Rights so I wouldn’t hit him with a net or be mean to him if he were to visit. (Would NOT ask him to move in though.)”

Jorge (Peach Tree Rascals)

“My personal favorite character is (not surprisingly) K.K Slider. Any dog with that much swag and music playing ability deserves all the love and respect in the world. As for my least favorite it’d probably have to be Pietro. Something about a creepy clown like that just doesn’t sit right with me, It’s just so creepy looking. An honorable mention would be Papi the horse, simply because his name is Papi. Like c’mon that’s hilarious! Plus his dreams of being a comic book writer remind me of when I wanted to be a comic artist when I was much younger.”

Almondmilkhunni

“I like Goldie the most because she’s just super cute. And I dislike Moose, because I hate his eyebrows. He’s a little rat weirdo.”

khai dreams

“I love Roald. He is a weird little beady-eyed dude, but I adore him. He was one of the villagers in my town back when I played Animal Crossing on the GameCube. Penguins were my favorite animal at the time, so I was so happy when he moved in. He is just a dumb little baby and I love him for it. Bonus fav character is Coco. She is just so weird and creepy and cute. She is my wife. She will be my wife. 

My least favorite villager is Colton. F Colton!! He showed up in my camp and wouldn't leave until I let him live in my village. I report him every day to Isabelle, but it seems to make no difference. In his biography it says his skill is ‘Writing about pickles;’ what the hell? stfu Colton. Write about pickles in someone else's town!!!”

[cheeri0-queeri0]

My First Two Loves (WLW version): Chapter 3

Is she gaping? Emma has to be gaping.

“Ava… y-you and… Mason? Are…”

Ava grins rakishly, rubbing a hand along Mason’s back. “Madly in love? Or, well, lust - we haven’t gotten to that other L-word yet.”

Nails. Nails are being driven into her heart.

For his part, Mason looks taken aback by her reaction. “I meant to tell you last night, Emma.”

“You could’ve texted!” A lump is rising in her throat.

Mason scratches the back of his head. “I wanted to tell you in person. I tried to call, but when the line kept dropping, I thought…this is better?”

No. No it is not. It is one million times worse.

“Yeah, you’re right!” Emma forces the words to come out chipper, forces a placid smile. “I… I’m speechless. Congrats, you two.”

Congrats on secretly shattering her heart. But hey, what’s another secret to the now-sure-to-grow pile?

Mason’s shoulders relax, the tension falling from his face as he turns to Ava. “I almost forgot, babe! I got a little something for you.” He reaches over on the hood of Ava’s car where he put a cute little thermos.

Ava tentatively takes it from him, eyes wide in surprise. “Caramel macchiato?”

Mason gives her a shy, crooked smile. “With two shakes of cinnamon.”

Ava’s favorite.

The girl slings her other arm around his neck and rests her head against his cheek. “You remembered! Best boyfriend ever!”

Emma...is going to combust from agony.

“You guys are just so...perfect together,” she grits out, hoping it sounds passably pleasant.

Ava’s eyes find hers, softening just a bit.

Mason lets out a breathy laugh that seems more like a sigh of relief. “See, Ava, I told you she’d be happy for us!”

Ava blinks, breaking her gaze away. “I knew she would be. She is my bestie, after all.” There’s something off about her tone. If she hadn’t told Emma in the car that they were still solid despite Lauren dying to usurp her place, Emma would worry that maybe they weren’t best friends anymore.

Hell, maybe she’s still a little worried. And now for more than the Lauren reason.

“I should leave you alone for some...couple time. Catch you later!” Cue an ungraceful escape.

Mason jogs to catch up. “There’s so many times I tried to call. To tell you.” His voice turns plaintive. “Emma, I just want to double check. Are you okay with this?”

No! I am unequivocally not okay with this! God, how badly Emma wants to shout that at the top of her lungs. If she said it, Mason is exactly the kind of guy who would follow through and break up. He’s good. And that’s the problem.

“Mason. I’m happy for you. And for Ava.”

“...Yeah? Because your happiness means a lot to me.”

And now she has to sell it. “Yeah. I’m stoked. You’re so cute together. I should’ve played matchmaker years ago.” That...might have been overkill. “I just have some things to take care of right now. Talk later, okay?”

Mason nods. It worked. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Emma power-walks away, tears pricking at her eyes as she let her feet take her anywhere else.

After a short time, she rounds a corner, realizing too late that she’s behind the gym near the back parking lot she usually avoided.

And she wasn’t alone.

“Hey there, princess. What brings you to my place of business?” The boy is smarmy, leaning against the brick wall, hair gelled so thickly it wouldn’t move even in a tornado.

Emma stills, confused. “Your...uh, what?”

He frowns, pushing off the wall and wandering closer. “My store. My shop. My livelihood. What you buying?”

Oh. Shit. “I’m not - I’m just trying to get away from some people - ”

The boy comes to a stop too close. “Save it. A sob story won’t get a discount.” He looked her up and down, calculating. Though he definitely didn’t look like someone who was good at math. “Adderall. Has to be. A study buddy. Everyone needs one, right?”

He yanks a plastic bag out of his pocket.

“Oh, no thanks. I appreciate it, but I am not interested.”

His jaw works, clenching and unclenching. “The offer isn’t optional anymore. You saw what I’m selling. You’re part of this.” He takes one more step, his Axe body spray stinging the inside of Emma’s nose. “Now open up that bag and find me two hundred bucks.”

Several thoughts race through Emma’s head. The first, unhelpfully, is two HUNDRED dollars for one bottle of pills? Shortly followed by If I run, will he grab me?

Sensing the direction of her thoughts, the boy huffs. “I don’t like having to hurt people, really.” But he would, hung unspoken in the air.

“Leave her alone, Darren.” The voice is unfamiliar, low, with a rasp to it.

Emma whirls around to the girl stalking toward them. She’s...dangerous looking, leather jacket slung around her broad shoulders, green eyes boring unwaveringly into the aggressive pill-pusher.

The boy - Darren - backs up quickly. “N-Noelle? I didn’t know you were back in town. I’m just trying to run a business, okay?”

Noelle doesn’t speak, just wrenches the bag out of Darren’s hands and flings it onto the roof.

“You bitch!” Darren hesitates, glaring, then turns tail and runs.

The other girl watches him go, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. Up close, she’s taller than Emma, but only just.

It’s like the bubble of nervous energy inside her just bursts, and Emma blurts out, “W-wow, that was...kind of amazing -uh, amazingly stupid!”

Noelle hums, glancing at her. Emma doesn’t miss the way her eyes drift down to her stomach and back. “You gotta fight like with like.”

Emma laughs, a tittering little sound that she hates. She bites her lip, hard. “You’re lucky it didn’t come to a fight.”

The other girl shrugs, unbothered. “I like my chances better than yours.”

Okay...fair.

Noelle sighs, swiping a hand through her bangs to push them out of her chiseled face. “You should get out of here. I can’t spend all day playing guardian angel.”

“Oh.” The comment rubs her the wrong way, but Emma brushes it off. After all, she did call the girl’s heroics stupid. Maybe...maybe there’s a way to make it up to her? “Unless…you’re new, right? Maybe I can repay the favor and show you around?”

Noelle raises a brow. “How do you know I’m new?”

Not an outright rejection, Emma can work with that. She smiles. “I happen to know pretty much everyone here.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“So you’ve been invisible the past four years? I would definitely have remembered you.” The last part comes out without her even thinking it.

Green eyes drop to the ground, expression shuttering off. “I’ve...been away.”

“Like on a trip?”

“Not exactly.”

Emma pauses. She honestly can’t tell what the other girl is thinking. “You...don’t seem to like answering questions.”

Noelle’s lips twist into a humorless smile. “I’m told it’s one of my best character traits.”

Emma’s heart pangs. That’s messed up. “I’m not sure who told you that. It’s...sad. It keeps people away.”

“Sometimes it’s better that way.” Her voice is flat, either matter-of-fact or defeated. Who’s to tell?

“Not always,” Emma shoots back, challenging.

Noelle studies her curiously, weighing her words. She runs her tongue over her lips, then clicks it against her teeth, coming to a decision. “Fine. So, hypothetically, let’s say I take you up on this offer. What are you gonna do? Draw me a map or something?”

Emma snorts. She’s dismal at drawing. “I’d give you a tour. The campus has changed a lot the last few years, and I know all the best new spots. Besides, I’m not letting you get away that easy.”

She means it as a joke, but - she means it as something else, too.

Noelle’s back straightens, and there’s a renewed interest in her gaze. She gives her an easy grin. “I like the sound of that. Alright, I’m in.”

Something in Emma’s chest swoops. She can’t help but beam. “Welcome to Eastridge High tour extraordinaire.”

She takes the other girl around the school, pointing out landmarks important and trivial. Noelle opens up, not by much, but enough that Emma gets a glimpse of who she is underneath all the stoic backtalk. Intuitive, dry humor in spades, and…

And maybe...very, very attractive.

Emma’s only ever really had a crush on Ava, so she’s not totally sure what her type is, but damn. Apparently badasses check a lot of her boxes.

They wind up at the greenhouse, bequeathed by wealthy alum’s generous donation. It’s dubbed the Garden of Truth, the legend going that questions asked near the fountain in the center must be answered truthfully, with a magical limit of one a day.

Noelle chuckles, like legitimately chuckles. “You have to be making that up. Right?”

Emma tuts, kneeling to dip her fingers in the fountain’s water. “One question only, so choose wisely.”

Noelle looks up at all the hanging plants, the vines climbing towards the ceiling. “You first.”

Are you into girls?

“Have you ever been in love?” Close enough, right?

Noelle stiffens. “No,” she says, sharply, then reconsiders. “Maybe. I had feelings for someone I- someone I shouldn’t have.”

No pronouns. No closer to an answer for that, then. There’s silence for a moment, Emma tracing patterns on the water’s surface.

“You looked upset when you showed up at the parking lot today. Why?”

Emma jumps, drenching her sleeve. She stands. “I wasn’t - ”

Noelle sends her a look. “We’re in the Garden of Truth, remember? Be honest.”

Emma takes a deep breath. It might be nice to tell someone, someone with no stake in the fight. “I found out the girl I like is dating my best friend.” She wraps her arms around herself, holding Noelle’s gaze. “N-no one knows that I’m… Don’t tell anyone.” Her voice actually quivers.

Noelle reaches out and puts a hand on Emma’s arm. “I won’t. I’m good at keeping secrets.” She takes her hand back, and Emma immediately misses its warmth. “This girl… Does she know how you feel?”

Emma’s vision clouds with tears. “No.”

Noelle tilts her head, eyes crinkling in sympathy. “Figures. It’s hard to imagine someone turning you down.”

It isn’t hard for Emma - that seems to be all she has been able to imagine. The way Ava’s mouth would hang open, the way she would back away, turn her down. How it would get out, first to the cheer squad and then to the whole school. There’d be whispers, cruel jokes, pity. Everything would change.

They walk back out. Emma spots a few cheerleaders lounging around a picknick table in the courtyard. They wave her over.

Noelle slows, shoving her hands in her light-wash jeans pockets. “Looks like that’s the end of the tour. Bye for now, Cheer Squad.” She walks off before Emma can reply.

“...Bye?”

Her steps felt lighter as she joined the group. Like Noelle had lifted the weight since the Ava-Mason bombshell went off this morning. A distraction, if only for a few minutes.

Ava’s watching her with a somewhat shell-shocked expression. “Emma, I can’t believe you were talking to Noelle Harris!”

To her right, Lauren looks delighted. She twirls a lock of black hair in her manicured fingers, eyes sharp. “Don’t you know who she is?”

Emma searches the team’s faces for a hint, but she can’t find one. “What, is she famous or something?” It’s meant to be sarcastic, but she’s so confused it comes of as genuine.

Toni clears a spot for her, patting the bench. “You’d better sit down. You need to hear the truth about her!”

Taking trepidatious steps, Emma has the sinking feeling she’s gotten herself further into a mess.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 28

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​

After lunch they pay a visit to Port Douglas beach. The town is popular among tourists and the area is packed; every inch crammed with families in swimsuits and pop up shelters, young adults playing football and frisbee, children building sandcastles and running in and out of the water. There’s no rush to get home. Kyle and Ovi have the boys under control and there are still a lot of hours left in the day. It’s been a long one already; the panic attack in the middle of the road, the disastrous ending to what had started as a relatively positive and pleasant visit with Tyler’s father.

Neither of them speak about it; Millie is young and impressionable and over the moon about having a grandfather in her life and neither want to ruin that for her. She’s done nothing but talk about her time there; the kisses and the cuddles and the silver dollar and getting a chipmunk to eat out of her hand. And it made them both smile as they listened to her; that joyful rambling and those musical giggles and the exuberance over her upcoming birthday party. Neither have the heart ro rain on her parade; not wanting to break her heart with the cold hard fact that her grandfather probably won’t even show up that day. It’s who he is. Who he’s always been. And while she’d be initially crushed, having all of her friends at the house -and the appearance of her new puppy- would help her recover quickly, telling her too soon would cause her to dwell. Which would only work her up into an emotional frenzy that would be almost impossible to control.

While she plays in the surf -princess dress and all- they lounge in the sand; spreading out a tattered and well loved blanket that Tyler had brought along from the truck. It’s seen a lot of years; the same one they’d sit on when they’d take Millie to the beach when she was Addie’s age. Or on trips to the park or out for picnics or on camping trips when they’d live in Colorado. And had been around since before then; the edges frayed, holes patched together with messy stitching, the colors faded. Sometimes she wonders just what that blanket has seen; the history and the memories that those fibres hold. If it had ever been taken on excursions like this with his first family. If his ex wife had sat on the very spot where she sits now nursing their baby, if Austin had ever laid on it when he was Addie’s age or if he had ever been wrapped around his wet and shivering body when there’d been no towel to be had.

She knows it sounds stupid; even thinking about things like that and allowing them to get under her skin. And in the past six and half years the only part of his previous life  she’d ever thought about or they’d ever really discussed was Austin’s illness and eventual death. Even after Sarah had shown up at the hospital following Dhaka, she’d never sat back and thought of the fact he’d been someone else’s husband first. So caught up in spending every waking moment at his bedside and then finding out she was pregnant that everything seemed irrelevant. And normally it doesn’t bother her; the thought of him being with someone else. Hell, he’s been with lots of women by his own admission and she’d never thought twice about it or even cared what or who’d been done prior to her. Aside from Nik.  His past is just that. In the same way hers is.  But when your father in law –sick or not- constantly refers to you by the ex-wife's name despite the fact it’s been sixteen years and the two of you look nothing alike, it tends to weigh you down.

She tries to put it out of her mind, concentrating on the baby pressed to her chest as she feeds, and Millie twenty yards away already making friends.

“I don’t know how she does it,” she comments. “Everywhere we go it’s like this.”

Tyler lies on his stomach beside her, a cheek resting on the forearm he’d been using as a pillow. And he raises his head and glances over his shoulder to where his daughter is sitting in the wet sand, playing and animatedly conversing with other kids.  

“Give it a few minutes,” he says. “She’ll punch one of them in the face and that’ll be the end of it.”

Esme frowns.

“She’s like you,” he says with a yawn, and rests his back down on his arm, face turned towards her.

“I don’t punch people in the face five minutes after I meet them.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean she’s social. She makes friends easily. People are drawn to her. It’s the same way with you.”

“I was paid to be that way.”

“You can’t fake shit like that. People either like you or they don’t. It was just a plus that it made it easier to sweet talk and manipulate them afterwards.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or...”

“I mean it worked on me didn’t it,” he chides.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” she complains, but there’s a smile on her face as she leans down to place a chaste on his lips.

“You think you’d be used to that after almost seven years.”

“I obviously am. I’m still here, aren’t I.”

“Yeah...”  he grins and reaches out to lay a hand on her thigh. “You are. For some goddamn reason you’re still around. And I’m still putting up with it.”

“You’d be miserable if I suddenly wasn’t around anymore. Well, more miserable than you already are,” she teases, and then gives a small yelp and directs a kick in his direction when he pinches the inside of her thigh.  

Rolling over onto his back, he groans at the stiffness in his shoulders and neck as he props himself up on his elbows, knee audibly cracking when he stretches out his legs.

“Baby, every day your body is making more and more noise.” she comments, and while it’s meant to be playful, he can hear the concern that tinges the words.

“You think the noises are bad, you should feel what it’s like to be in this body.”

He’s been pushing himself too hard in the gym; extending hour and a half work out to nearly three. More work than he’d put into getting into the shape he’s in now. He’s already thirty pounds heavier than he’d been in Dhaka; shoulders and chest wider, arms bigger, calves and thighs more powerful.  He’s the most confident he’s been in years; physically he knows he’s up to any challenge that he could face IF he has to go get back into the game. The skills never leave you; they’ll come back quicker and sharper than ever once he trains Ovi.  His worry is his mental state; if his brain will be able to handle the strain and the pace and the things he’ll have to resort to in order to stay alive.

“She’s more like you than you realize,” Tyler says, as he watches Millie with her new friends; smiling at the sound of her laugh and the sight of her smile.

“Oh please,” Esme laughs. “Where do you see this? Because she is all you. Head to toe. You even have the same ears and the same feet. Never mind the facial expressions and the attitude.”

“There’s a lot of you in here. I see it more every day. How easy she trusts people and makes new friends. And never mind how fucking smart she is. She’s scary almost. That she’s THAT smart.”

“She’s the perfect mix of both of us, I guess. Everything that’s amazing in you and everything that’s amazing in me. Although I think we both know where she got all her bad stuff from.”

He stares at her pointedly.

“As if Tyler. She totally got her asshole side from you. You can’t convince me otherwise. Where do you think she got her temper and her mouth from?”

“And luckily for her, she got the looks from me too.”

“You’re such a fucker,” Esme laughs, and flicks her thumb and forefinger against his earlobe. “Are you calling me ugly?”

“Never. Look how beautiful Addie is and she looks just like you.”

She smirks. “That was an extremely good save on your part.”

“You know you’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me, baby. There’s no one that can come close to you and you know that.”

She does. It’s one of the things he’s always been good at ; making her feel like she’s the most incredible woman on the face of the earth. Always finding ways to let her know how beautiful she is in his eyes. It could be in his eyes when he simply looks at her; whether she’s dressed up with makeup on or it’s five thirty in the morning and her hair is a half assed ponytail and yesterday’s eyeliner is smudges and she already has baby puke on her pajamas. Or the little compliments he tosses if when she’s least expecting it, or how he kisses and touches her when their love making is slow and tender and he spends his time worshipping every inch of her body.  There’s never a time where she hasn’t felt unattractive in his eyes. Even when she’s constantly bringing attention to all her faults and blemishes.

“And I would be miserable,” he says. “If you weren’t around anymore.”

He hates thinking about it; what it would be like if -for some unknown and horrible reason- he found himself as a single father to give kids. And it’s been weighing heavier on his mind since Michael McMann had revealed all of the sick and twisted things he would have done to her before killing her. It has only added insult to injury; for years he’s been carrying around the secret of the real details behind Gaspar’s five million dollar offer and what Asif had had in store for her. Some of things are just better left unsaid, and it’s a burden he’s willing to carry for the rest of his life.

“You’re that used to me, are you?” She chides, attempting to inject a little humour into a suddenly tense situation. She knows how his brain works; the wheels that start turning when he begins to dwell on the ‘what if’s’.  And she hates the way his smile disappears and his features harden and eyes darken.  “You’ve gotten that spoiled? Having someone do your laundry, clean up after you, put out whenever you want.”

That manages to get a grin out of him, and he rolls over onto his side, pressing a kiss to her thigh before resting on his elbow, side of head in his palm.

“That’s your bad shoulder,” she points out.

“It’s fine. Hardly bothering me today.”

“And by hardly bothering you, you mean on a pain scale of one to ten, you’re at a twelve instead of...I don’t know...a hundred.”

“You worry too much.”

“Oh I’m sorry. I’m sorry I care about you and want you to be okay. I’m sorry that I’d you to live past fifty. That I’d like us to grow old and gray together and constantly drive one another instead until I take my last breath.”

“A bad shouldn’t isn’t going to kill me.”

“You said yourself it’s getting worse.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s going to put me in an early grave. So stop…” he reaches across his body with his free hand and rubs her knee, kissing her thigh once more. “I’m fine. I’ll get it looked at as soon as this shit with Ovi is done. I promise.”

“You’re so goddamn stubborn,” she huffs.

“So you tell me. Every single day. For the past almost seven years. I’m fine...honest…” his hand rests on her legal fingers brushing against the smooth, sensitive skin at the back of her knee. “If there was something really wrong, I’d tell you.”

“You would?”

His eyes fix on hers.

“Don’t give me that look,” Esme scolds. “Don’t use those eyes against me. You know they’re my weakness.”

“I thought your weakness was my back and shoulders.”

“The eyes are what get me the most. And the easiest. How do you think you managed to seduce me as easily as you did?”

He gives a sly grin. “I thought it had something to do with the hand I had around your throat.”

“You’re dirty.”

“You like it.”

She just grins.

“You don’t have to admit it. You’ve made it pretty obvious. I mean, we don’t have five kids for nothing.”

“We could have made them all through boring old vanilla sex,” she points.

“Only we know we didn’t, so…” her rolls onto his stomach once more, attempting to relieve some of the discomfort in his joints. And he drapes an arm over her thighs, side of his head once again resting on a forearm.

And he closes his eyes; the calmest he’s been all day with the sun beating down on his tired and aching body, relaxed by the sound of the ocean and the feel of her skin against his.

***

“Are we going to talk about it?” Esme inquires.

“About what?” Tyler mumbles sleepily.

“About what happened today. On the way to your dad’s.”

“It was a panic attack,” he states matter-of-factly.

“I know that.”

“I’ve had them before. You’ve been with me for most of them.”

“And I know that too.”

“I thought we got past it. It was only a few minutes and…”

“Forty five.”

His eyes flicker open. “What?”

“It was forty five minutes.”

Tyler frowns. Had it really been that long? Time hadn’t seemed to drag that slow. He would have swore it was ten minutes, tops. Not closer to sixty.  “Are you sure?”

“I timed it. From the time you got out of the truck and when you got back in. It was forty five minutes.”

“That has to be some kind of record,” he dryly remarks.

“This isn’t a joke, Tyler. They’re getting worse. They’re getting more intense and they’re lasting longer and…”

“I’m taking the meds if that’s what you’re going to ask next. I haven’t skipped any days.”

“Maybe you need to be on different meds,” Esme suggests, as she peeks under the edge of the receiving blanket that protects Addie from the sun. She’s fallen asleep mid feed and her mother runs a finger tip along the bottom of both feet to tickle her awake. And the baby gives a small start and then returns to eating. “Stronger meds.”

“I don’t want to be on any meds.”

“Well that’s not an option, is it. What is going on with you, Tyler? Ever since this whole Ovi thing. You’ve just been...I don’t know...off.”

“Do we have to talk about this now? Here? Can’t we wait until we get home?”

“There’s people at our house.”

“There’s people here too,” he points out.

“Strangers. Who aren’t even listening.”

“I already told you. The shit with Ovi’s brought a lot up to the surface. Things I haven’t thought about since we left Colorado. About the job.”

“And the fact you miss it.”

“Are we going to fight? If we’re going to fight, let’s just stop now, yeah? Because I do not want to fight with you. Especially about this.”

“I don’t want to fight with you either. But that hurt. Hearing that. Hearing you say you miss it and you’d rather be out there than home with your family.”

“First of all…” he pushes himself up onto his elbows. “...that is not what I said. I did not say I’d rather be doing the job than be with you and the kids. I’d never fucking say that. I said I miss it sometimes. Not that I want to go back to it. That’s the last fucking thing I want.”

“How can you miss it and not want to go back? That makes no sense.”

“It’s not the actual job I miss. It’s the pace of things. Constantly moving from one thing to the next. No time to think too much and dwell on shit. Now I have too much time to think and it’s doing my fucking head in and I feel like I’m going insane. I went from that to this…” he nods in Addie’s direction. “...and it’s two entirely different things and I’m having a harder time dealing with it than I thought I would.”

“Do you regret it? Going from that to this?”

“Of course I don’t. All that matters to me is you and the kids. You know that. But sometimes I miss the way things were. Not the beating the shit out of people, not the blood, not the killing, not the crazy shit. Just the pace. That’s it.”

“The escape of it.”

“Yeah. I don’t know. I guess. I can’t explain it. I just know how it feels. Do I want to go back to it? Fuck no. I have way too much to lose.”

“Would you go back if there was no me?”

“Esme, I never would have stopped doing it. And if there was no you, I’d be dead. So that question doesn’t even make sense. If there was no you, I would have died in Dhaka. That’s not a maybe. That’s a sure thing.”

“And if I was to say that I’d be okay with it if…”

“But you wouldn’t be,” Tyler doesn’t give her the chance to finish. “So why even ask that?”

“Because if it’s the only thing that’s going to keep you happy and sane…”

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying. I am happy. With you and the kids. I’m happy with my life. I’m just having a hard time letting go of who I was before.  Just because I miss it sometimes doesn’t mean I want to go back. The job was an escape, like you said. From my shitty fucking life. If I hadn’t had the job, I would have killed myself a long time ago. But now I have you and I have my kids and that’s all I want. I just need time; to let this go. And I need you to stop taking it personally. This isn’t about you and I, this isn’t about the kids. It’s all about me.”

She nods slowly, considering his words. And neither speak for several minutes; her eyes fixated on Millie and her new friends as they laugh and splash in the water, his eyes intently watching her.  Chewing nervously on her bottom lip and fidgeting with a loose thread on the edge of the receiving blanket; eyes hidden behind the sunglasses she’d stolen off him earlier.

“If going back is what you need to do, then…” she shrugs. “...you need to do it, I guess.”

“I already said I’m not going back. I don’t want to go back. Why…?”

“If the job is what’s going to keep you sane, you need to do it. Because I don’t want you staying home and then finding out six months later or a year later or two years later than you were unhappy the entire time. Because that will turn into a lot of regret and a lot of animosity and I don’t want that. Because that will destroy us. A lot quicker than the job will.”

“Fuck me…” he groans, and rakes a hand through his hair. “Are you even listening to me? I don’t want to go back. You’re assuming I do because I said I missed it. I gave it up. To be with you. To be with my kids. I walked away. For you. For us. And now you’re telling me it's okay I go back and abandon my family like all the times I did before. That makes no fucking sense.”

“I just want you to be happy,” she explains. “And if that’s what makes you happy.”

“For fuck sakes,” Tyler snarls. “That’s not what makes me happy. You make me happy. Our kids make me happy. Not the job. Fuck the job. All I said was that sometimes I miss it. The pace. The not having time to sit and overthink shit and dwell on everything. That’s all I said.”

“I don’t know what more to do,” she confesses, sounding dangerously close to tears. “I don’t know how else to help you. And it just seems easier if I just give up and you back. Because I’d rather you do that and things go back to somewhat normal than see you going through what you’re going through now. Mauve that was our ‘normal’.  The job. You being gone so much and me just dealing with it.”

“None of that is normal,” Tyler argues. “That’s a fucked up version of normal.”

“But it worked.”

“Until it didn’t. Until things really started to go to shit in New Zealand. Or are we just going to pretend that never happened?”

She sighs heavily.

“It was my decision to leave. I gave it up. Willingly. Because I couldn’t do it anymore. Because I was sick all the bullshit that came with it. I was tired of leaving you and the kids and constantly worrying about whether I was going to make it home or not. And I know you don’t want to think about that every time I walk out the door; whether or not I’m coming back.”

“That’s the last thing I want. But…”

“How can there be a ‘but’? How is this making any sense to you? The job would only make things worse.”

“I could learn to deal with,” Esme insists. “And I did deal with it.”

“Until you couldn’t anymore and you kicked my ass out. Or did you forget about that? Six months, remember? We were apart six months and I was a fucking mess. All I did was work and drink and fuck things up with you and my kids. I’m not going through that again. And you shouldn’t want to either.”

“It wouldn’t get that bad this time. We wouldn’t let it. There were other things going on then, too. Not just the job. You went back to drinking and the meds, and it all mixed together and it was a complete and utter shit show. But this time…”

“It’s a stupid fucking idea and you know it and I can’t believe you’d even bring it up. Like what the fuck, Esme?”

“So what do we do? Because I am all out of ideas, Tyler. I don’t know what more I can do to help you deal with whatever you’re dealing with. I get you miss it. I do. And I knew it would be hard for you  to walk away; it was a huge change in your life. But there’s many things going on and you’re keeping them inside and I don’t know how to get through to you.”

“So you just want to give up? Just say ‘fuck it, go back to the job and get yourself killed’? Because that’s what it sounds like. That you’re giving up. On me. On us.”

“I am not giving up,” she argues. “If the job is the one thing that can actually keep everything together…”

“Esme…” he sighs heavily, then closes his eyes briefly, hand splayed across his forehead; thumb rubbing at one temple, fingers working at the other. “...it’s what nearly destroyed us before. What makes you think this time would be any different?”

“Because this time I’m telling you I’m okay with it. If you feel it’s what you need to do, I’m fine with it. I’m giving you my permission. It’s not like you’re just going ahead and making the decision on your own like last time.”

“No. You’re making the decision for me. You’re deciding it’s the only way to fix things and I’m telling you it’s not the answer.”

“So what is?”

“I don’t fucking know,” he snaps, voice louder and much harsher than he’d intended it to be. And he sits up turning his body to face the water, their shoulders pressed together. “The job is not the answer,” he insists. “I don’t know what is, but it’s not that. I won’t survive if I go back. I already know that. Not with everything else that’s going on.”

An eyebrow lifts. “Everything else? What…?”

“There’s something I need to tell you. And I should have told you soon as it started. But we just had Addie and you were going through your own shit and I didn’t want to add to it and make things worse for you.”

“Oh God,” she grumbles. “How bad is it?”

“It’s pretty bad.”

“Are you having an affair?”

“What?” He gives an incredulous laugh. “No. Fuck no. That is the last thing I’d ever do. I’m not a cheater. You know that.”

“So it’s worse than that?”

“Yeah...I guess...in its own way.”

“Tyler, what have you done?”

“It’s pretty fucked up and you’re going to be pissed or disgusted or both. I don’t know.”

“Tyler…”

“I started about a week ago. When Ovi brought all this job shit up. I didn’t think much of it at first. Because I’ve had weak moments before. You know that. That there’s times I’ve felt like I was slipping.”

“With alcohol.”

He nods. “That day we went out for lunch. That place he picked was a sports bar.”

“Please tell me you didn’t…”

“Drink? No. I didn’t. But I could smell it. I could even taste it. So I just got away from it the best I could and I never thought about it again the entire time I was there.”

“Okay, so you had a weak moment. That’s not unusual. Even the doctor said…”

“I thought that’s all it was. I’ve had them before. Where I thought I wanted to drink; something to just take the edge off. But then it started getting worse and worse and started thinking about it all the time. Especially when the nightmares started. And suddenly I couldn’t control it. The need for it. Especially after last night.”

“Tyler…” she inhales deeply and exhales slowly, attempting to keep her composure.  “...what did you do?”

“Nothing. I wanted to, but I didn’t. But I was so close, Esme. I was so fucking close. To actually leaving the house and finding a way to get it. And not just the booze. The meds too. The Oxy. I was so fucking close,” his voice falters; a mixture of shame and defeat. It’s the first time he’s actually let the addiction beat him. For months he’s been battling it. Confidently. And although there’d been times he felt as if he were slipping, he’d always been able to shake it. Now he feels as if he’s drowning; addiction pulling him down and refusing to let him go unless he surrenders.  

And that’s the last thing he wants.

“Even the Oxy?”

He can hear it in her voice; the emotion that weighs down every word. And he closes his eyes in a vain attempt to hold back the flood of tears that threaten to escape. “Yeah…” he admits. “...even those.”

“Why? Why all of a sudden? Why…?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought of them before. It’s always been just the booze. And then nightmares about Austin and Millie started and then last night about my mum and my dad when I was just a kid and the pain…” he shakes his head. “...I’m in so much fucking pain. All the time. And I don’t know if it’s physical or mental or what the fuck it is. I just know I need something...anything...to just take it away.”

She places Addie in the middle of the blanket and moves closer to him; on her knees as she wraps an arm around his shoulders and then places her free hand on the side of his head, drawing it down towards her.

“Don’t..” he objects. “...people are fucking staring.”

“So? Fucking let them. Who cares?” Her fingers are in his hair; tips massaging his scalp. And he circles her waist with both arms and rests his forehead against her shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to. I just couldn’t. Not when you’ve already got so much else going on. Not when you’ve got your own issues and your own shit to deal with. I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“It would have made it worse...so much worse...had you gone ahead and started back up again. That would have been the worst possible thing that could have happened. You should have told me.”

“I thought I could just deal with it on my own. I’ve done it before.”

“But you shouldn’t have to deal with it alone. And you don’t have to. Jesus Christ, Tyler. You have to stop doing this.  Keeping everything inside of you. This doesn’t just affect you. You’re an addict. You’ll always be an addict. You’re always going to have to fight. You can’t just go back on that shit and then come off it and over and over again.  It doesn’t work like that.”

“I know. I know it doesn’t.”

“You need to tell someone. The therapist. The doctor. Someone.”

“I’m telling you.”

“Someone can actually help you. I can only do so much. I can help you and talk you down and get you away from it, but eventually that’s not going to work anymore. You need help. Professional help.”  

“So they can send me back to rehab? Weeks away from my family?”

“You haven’t actually relapsed. They wouldn’t send you there unless you did. But they can stop you from needing to go back. That’s what you want, right? You don’t actually want to be that way again, do you?”

“Of course I don’t. But that’s all I know. That’s how I coped. The meds and the booze. I don’t know anything else.”

“And that’s what they’ll help you with. Finding ways to cope. You’re not the first person that’s come to them with this, trust me.”

“I feel like a huge fucking failure. Like I’m just one big fuck up after another.”

“First of all, you’re not a failure. People relapse. It happens. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last. And second, you’re not a fuck up. You’re strong and you’re brave and…”

“Stop...just stop...stop saying that shit…”

You’re strong and you’re brave,” she adamantly continues. “And you’ve been through so much in the past seven years alone. Things that would have easily killed a weaker person. You’ve been through hell and back and you still don’t give up. So you stop. You stop shit talking yourself all the time. You are not a failure and you’re not weak and you’re definitely not a quitter.”

“I swear to God if you tell me not to let anyone dull my sparkle…”

She laughs at that. “Well, your beard does still have glitter in it.  I meant to tell you earlier and I never got around to it and you’ve been walking around looking a little sparkly today.”

“What the fuck…” he pulls away, running a palm over his beard and then frowning at the glitter that sparkles against his skin. “...are you fucking kidding me?”

“I told you that shit gets everywhere. And it takes forever to get it out. I mean, it’s not a bad color on you at least.”

“I’m going to have to shave the whole thing off.”

“Like hell you are. It will come out. Eventually.”

He frowns. “How long is eventually?”

“Two or three…”

“Days?”

“Weeks? Months? I don’t know.”

“Jesus Christ..”

“It’s not that bad,” Esme assures him. “Honest. It’s only a little bit here and there. And someone will only notice it if they get really close to your face. Or when the sun hits it just right.”

“It’s coming off,” he decides. “As soon as we get home.”

“Does it help if I tell you it looks cute?”

“That makes it fucking worse!”

“Don’t shave your beard off. Not all the way. Trim it if you have to. But don’t get rid of it entirely. I’ll cry. Ugly cry. And you don’t when I ugly cry, so…”

“I hate when you ugly cry.”

“Exactly. And I’ll ugly cry times ten if you shave your beard right off. And I’ll ever have sex with you again. Ever. You’ll have tons of calluses on your palms in one month alone.”

“I already have calluses,” he reminds her.

“You’ll have more. A lot more. Tons. Because I will cut you off and I will not give in and I know you won’t go and get it somewhere else so...yeah...callouses.”

“First you were upset about the hair. Now it’s the beard.”

“I caved in with the hair. And I still miss that hair. But I’m not giving in when it comes to this. I don’t care if you trim it. Just don’t get rid of it. It’s how I know you. How I’ve always known you. It’s like a security blanket for me. So don’t…” she pecks his lips. “...please?”

“You are so fucking lucky I love you.”

“I am,” she agrees. “And we’re going to get through this. Everything that you’re going through. We’ve gotten through a lot worse. IF we can survive that first year after Dhaka, I’m pretty sure we get through anything.”

“I still have to do this shit for Ovi. And if he fucks up…”

“Anything,” she insists, and kisses him again. Longer this time; holding his face in her hands. “You’re not in this alone, Thyler. You need to remember that.”

“I know.”

“And Millie’s on her way over here…”  she removes the sunglasses from her face and slips them over his eyes, preventing their daughter from seeing him close to tears.

She knows daddy cries; that a lot of daddies cry. And that it doesn’t make them weak or ‘girly’. But she’s fiercely protective of him and when he shows emotion, she can’t hold back her own water works.

“You are soaked, little miss.” Esme frowns. “I hope daddy remembered to pack that change of clothes I asked him to put in the car before we left.”

“I’ve got my shit together,” Tyler confirms. “Do you have to…” he begins, then groans when Millie not only tackles him onto his back, but plops down heavily on his lower stomach. “...jump on me.”

“Now daddy’s all wet,” Esme sighs. “And I know he doesn’t have a change of clothes.”

“It’s not that,” he speaks through gritted teeth. “Do you know where she just landed? And how hard she landed on it?”

“I think your voice just went up five  octaves,” his wife teases. “Are you okay?”

“No. No I’m not. Remember that frozen bag of peas?  I think I’m going to need another one when we get home.”

“Listen buddy, I’ve pushed five kids out my you know where, I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m suddenly feeling really bad about kicking Saju in the nuts in Dhaka. Millie, you know how you said you didn’t want another brother?”

“Yep,” she responds.

“I’m pretty certain you just made sure that’s not even remotely possible anymore.”

“Mommy will have to kiss it better later,” Esme says, tousling his hair and then tending to buckling Addie into her carrier.

“You’re damn right you will. It’s your daughter that did this.”

“Oh so now she’s just my daughter. That’s not how it works. We went fifty-fifty on her. You put in ten minutes of work, I put in nine months.”

“Ten minutes my ass. It’s never been only ten minutes. Especially during those five days.”

“Are you going to be okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

Tyler flips her the middle finger. “You should give it mouth to mouth.”

“You’re a pig.”

“You’re the one who offered to kiss it better. Millie…” he grabs her by the hips and moves her off of him. “...you used to be my favorite. Why you do me like this?”

“Ice cream would make you feel better,” she concludes.

“What am I going to do? Put it down my pants?”

“Stop it,” Esme scolds. “Little ears! And you, Amelia, are right. Ice cream would make daddy feel better. And so would buying ice cream. For us.”

“Millie’s walking home, just so you know,” Tyler grumbles, as he struggles to his feet; hobbled more by the pain in his knee than the damage his daughter had inflicted.

“No I’m not!” she argues, and then shrieks when he grabs her by the hips and holds her over his head, settling her on his shoulder. “I’m not walking.”

“You can jog beside the truck. I’ll drive slow.”

“I don’t think so daddy,” she wraps her legs around his neck and rests her chin on top of his head. “Mommy would never let you make me jog.”

“Mommy can jog with you.”

“Like hell she can,” Esme scoffs. “Only time I’m running or jogging is if zombies are chasing me.”

“Zombies aren’t real,” Millie informs her.

“I don’t know,” Tyler says. “Have you ever seen your mother at five thirty in the morning? Ow! Shit!” He grimaces when his wife grabs a hold of the top of his left hip and pinches as hard as she can. “That actually hurt.”

“I could take you,” she informs him.

“Yeah? Let’s go right now. Me and you. One on one,” he playfully challenges, and grabbing a hold of her ponytail, gives it a firm tug.

“You shit!” she retorts, and retaliates by kicking him in the ass.

“You’re so lucky you didn’t go for the front like the savage I know you are,” Tyler grins, then snags her by the wrist and pulls her tight into his side. Hand settling on her hip, lips finding her temple. And her own hand briefly rests on the small of his back, then slips its way into the pocket of his jeans.

For that moment, everything seems right in the world. And he feels optimistic. About fighting his demons.

About the future.

[rewind-reviews]

So I'm Playing... Pokemon Sword

So I'm playing Pokemon Sword and I have somethings to say. I am by no means a huge Pokemon fan, in fact I'm the stereotype, gen one is by far my favourite, Squirtle is the best Pokemon ever created and not only do I still play Pokemon GO regularly I think the let's go games are some of the best pokemon games around not only for fans of the franchise but newcomers alike. But that's not why we're here.

I really wasn't all that excited for sword and shield before release for a few reasons. I was left really disappointed with the last Pokemon I played (Pokemon X) and only really being dragged into the let's go games because it's a pokemon game I already knew and I had the Pokeball plus. On top of that, the directs around the game really didn't interest me all that much, don't get me wrong I did watch them and thought some of the designs were cool but nothing really grabbed me and made me really want the game. It did, however, make everyone I knew want the game so of course, I succumbed to peer pressure and got the sword while my girlfriend got shield.

Going into it I really wasn't expecting much, I thought I would play it for a few hours and then just stop when I couldn't be bothered to grind anymore but I couldn't have been more wrong. So far I am loving this game I will admit i have only beaten the first two gyms so I still have a long road ahead of me but man I am looking forward to almost every step of it.

First off the setting for sword makes me so damn happy being a British boy that was raised in the country myself makes seeing all the farmland, sheep pokemon, and really inconvenient train travel just feel like a breath of manure scented fresh air and boy oh boy do I love it. The wide-open fields of the wild area, small little market towns, and huge people filled cities (or let's face it big towns) really do capture what it's like living in the country in the UK or well to me at least. Plus the facts that the game looks great, runs smooth as butter (most of the time, the wild area can make it dip just a tad every now and then) and the soundtrack is so damn good I seriously love every track I have heard so far are all just bonuses. I know a few people that really don't like the dialogue in these games but I love it, seeing English slang in a game like this is hilarious be it the overuse of the word "mate" or even one trainer greeting me with the classic "'ello, 'ello what's all this then?" I find all of this just so charming and honestly it works so well.

I have also enjoyed some of the changes sword brings I know they might not be new to the franchise but they are sure as hell new to me so go easy on me here. During battle, you can obviously see what attacks you can do pretty normal right?? WELL NOW YOU CAN SEE HOW THE ATTACK WILL AFFECT THE POKEMON YOU ARE FIGHTING!!!! and not only for the pokemon you have selected it shows up while you are swapping a pokemon from your party to. This one little feature has saved my little dudes from getting wiped out more times than I can count its such a good idea for kids just getting into the games or well people like me...Ahem. Being able to bond with the pokemon you have in your party while out adventuring is now possible to thanks to the hobby I never understood camping. While out on your quest to be the very best you can whip out your tent and camp out anywhere you so choose. while doing this you can play with you Pokemon, talk to them and even cook for them. Doing this will help you become closer to your team making them help you during battles and help earn a little bit of EXP too. While I think this is a great addition that you don't have to do if you don't want to I wish the EXP gained form this was a little higher and the cooking mini-game is just so boring, yeah sure it was fun the first few times I did it but I don't want to do this every time I need to heal while I'm on the road.

Gyms have changed a little bit too there are now challenges before each individual gym leader called gym challeneges creative I know. these are basically little mini-games that range from herding sheep to solving puzzles all the while fighting trainers along the way. I adore these way more than I should, I get way more excited to do these than I do the gym leader and getting through them just feels great because your reward is a fight you aren't going to forget. From what I have seen they are the perfect balance and would provide the perfect difficulty for new and old players alike.

I do have a small gripe with some of the characters too. Most of them are totally one hundred per cent fine but there are a few that really get on my nerves. No Team Yell isn't one of them... I think they are funny. Leon and Hop are where most of my issues lie. Leon is too dumb I mean come on he is the god damn Pokemon champion and he is so "useless with directions" he would get lost in his home town when its a straight line to his house?? dude come on. Plus what's going on with his design?? did he get that weird coat when he became champion?? does he ever take it off?? it's weird. I have a love-hate relationship with Hop, sometimes I find him funny and fun to read but other times he is so god damn annoying. He is just all energy all the time and just reading it tires me out. His gestures are so strange and sometimes look downright inapropriate he just looks so out of place and weird all the time because of his constant over excitement. I don't like his design either the denim jacket he wears that just stops at his wrists makes it seem as if its too small, his tousers are uncomfortably skin tight in my opinion (weird thing to notice I know) and I just don't like his face it seems way too simple even for Pokemon. Some of the designs for the pokemon look kind of gross too I mean Sobble starts looking gross, becomes an emo kid then is just a skinny man that somehow has a beer belly. They ruined Zigzagoon and Meowth, one pokemon is just a pigeon and many many more that just don't sit well with me.

Overall Pokemon Sword is a pretty great game and I'm looking forward to seeing what comes up next and even if I will actually finish the Pokedex this time... screw the Currydex though I'm not that committed. Now if you will excuse me I have a fire gym to beat.

Here have a cute little scorbunny by the amazing mousieex over on instagram https://www.instagram.com/mousieex/

[justanultrastressedwriter]

Aw Hell No - Ch I

Next          Masterlist

TW: Homophobia (slurs), Violence, Swearing. Let me know if I should tag anything else

“Uh, DJ! Can’t you believe it?” the bouncy redhead squealed to her tall, curly-haired best friend with excitement.

“Can’t believe what? That you could somehow reach super supersonic levels this early in the morning?” the guy standing next to her muttered, frowning down at his best friend.

“Don’t be a dick, Daniel. Can’t you at least pretend to be excited? It’s the first day of our senior year! This is the home stretch, baby!” the short imp said, with an excited grin on her face.

“Charlotte Elizabeth Thomas. It's barely even 8 am, I’ve only had one cup coffee because you, for some ungodly reason, wanted to get to school ridiculously early, you have been shrieking in my ear for the last half hour, and I have the first period with the teacher who hates me the most because he’s the most bigoted person on the face of the Earth. What the hell do I have to be excited about?” Daniel James frowned at her, glaring. He was nowhere near being a morning person like his best friend was. Daniel could barely function before 9 am without numerous cups of coffee.

“Well, Mr. Grumpy Gills, for starters you have little old me. I’m taking the time out of my busy life to grace you with my perfect existence. My mere presence should make you ecstatic, you utter peasant.” she said cheekily, tilting her head to the side and raising her chin arrogantly. Daniel couldn’t help but crack a smile at her.

“Charlie, I have no fucking idea how I have managed to be your best friend. Your massive ego should be your best friend instead of me, you annoying little twerp.” Daniel teased.

“But, I’m your annoying little twerp and you can’t help but love me,” Charlie said with a reckless grin and a quirked eyebrow.

Daniel was about to respond with one of his famous witty one-liners when his thoughts were interrupted by a strong force against his back, shoving his face into the cool metal of the lockers he had been leaning on. He knew that at least one bruise would appear there the next day.

“Happy first day of school, faggot.” a voice hissed from behind him. He could hear the sneer and disdain in the person’s voice, which helped him recognize the voice. It made his muscles tense as he turned to face the biggest prick in the entire school.

Connor Smith; the popular jock that had been tormenting Daniel since they were in preschool. It had started back then with small childish antics: the breaking of crayons and toys, blaming Daniel for everything - which made all of their teachers peg him as a troublemaker and hate him, despite being one of the quietest and most polite kids in school - and a long list of other things that didn’t really matter in the long run.

Ever since Daniel had been forced out of the closet in their freshman year, though, Connor Smith and the entire school had gotten worse. Connor had inspired the football team on numerous occasions to jump Daniel in the school parking lot after school or to tie him to the goalposts naked, they all constantly shoved Daniel in the halls and into lockers, made him spill his lunch all over himself, broke into his locker to ruin his textbooks or his schoolwork and notes, but those were just things the sport teams did. The entire school would simply trip him or call him cute pet names, ‘useless queer’, ‘faggot’, or Daniel’s favorite ‘dirty little cocksucker’.

Of course, no one ever did anything about Daniel’s predicament. The best people would turn the other cheek to everything going on. Daniel’s mom had gone to the school boards countless times, even a few teachers had gone to the administrations on his behalf, but nothing happened. Either it was because “they were just boys being boys”, “that there wasn’t enough evidence”, or that Daniel brought this upon himself either by not sticking up for himself but Daniel knew what they really meant.

“Hey, Meathead! Leave him alone! He’s done nothing to you!” Charlie yelled, getting as fiery as her red hair and glaring up at the jock. Standing at 5’3”, Charlie yelling at Connor, who stood at a whopping 6' 3”, looked like David challenging Goliath. It could have been considered comical by an outside party.

Connor smirked as if he were amused, but then his favorite lackey spoke up, with a lustrous look. “You wanna dance, Red? I can make sure you have a great time. I can think of so many ways to make you scream.”

Charlie’s cheeks turned red at the implications and she began to struggle for words. Daniel felt a fire of anger ignite up within his chest. He knew exactly how uncomfortable his best friend was about anything sexual. She hadn’t even kissed anyone for fucks’ sake. So Daniel came to her rescue, standing up to his full height to look the jerk in the eyes and shield his best friend from the pair of Neanderthals. “Leave her alone, Tyler. She has nothing to do with this, you know that. Your problem is with me.”

Tyler Roberts. Daniel’s second-biggest tormentor and Connor’s best friend/lackey. He was also known for being the biggest man-whore around having slept his way through at least half of the town.

“Or what, fag?” Tyler said, his voice filled with scorn and disgust, making Daniel flinch at the word.

“Or we’ll take our problem to the cops, jackass,” Daniel said, glaring at the other boy. “You are eighteen, right? How does jail sound to you? And if not, oh well. I’ll just settle for getting you kicked off the football team. That will lead you to have a problem with the rest of the football team and Coach Jamison- aren’t y’all expected to go to the playoffs this year? I don’t think the team will make it without their starting lineman, huh? Not to mention all of the colleges that are willing to offer you sports scholarships. The rest of the world is pretty damn liberal these days, I don’t think they’ll take too kindly to you being charged with a hate crime against a poor innocent gay kid, now would they? But by all means, if you want to risk it all by beating me to a pulp - then bring it on, asshole. I’ve been through worse and I’ve got nothing to lose.”

Daniel raised his arms out to his sides in a challenge. He’d rather get his ass kicked a dozen times over than watch those goons touch his best friend again. He watched as the larger Neanderthal’s brain worked through the concept that actions do have consequences.

Apparently, Connor’s brain worked a lot quicker than his counterpart, because he clasped a hand onto Tyler’s shoulder as if to calm him.

“Danny-boy’s right, man. There’s too much at stake for us.” Connor turned back to Daniel with a glare, “We’re not finished here, faggot.”

As the two jocks walked away, Daniel and Charlie shared a look and a sigh of relief, “You okay, Char?”

“I should be asking you the same thing, sweetie. They barely even looked at me.” Charlie said, looking at her best friend with concern.

Daniel shrugged, rubbing his forehead. “I’m just so tired of this shit, Charlie. These giant jackasses thinking that I’m dirt just because I’m gay. It’s so fucking stupid. But, I mean, are they right? Am I less than they are because I’m a faggot?”

Standing at 5 foot ten, with curly black hair that was constantly hanging in his light grey eyes framed by the pair of round glasses that rested on his freckle covered nose, Daniel James was gay.

After coming out to his two best friends at the time Charlie and one of their former friends Grace, he was forced out of the closet. Grace had panicked after hearing the news and she told her parents who then told the entire town and because they lived in a small-ass town in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere of the deep South. That made Daniel a social pariah.

Charlie pulled her best friend into a tight hug, “Oh, honey, no. You are not less than them. If anything, you’re so much more. You don’t have to put other people down to make yourself feel big. All of these ignorantly homophobic assholes are piles of shit compared to you.”

Daniel felt himself be slightly comforted by his friend’s words, but he couldn’t stop the negative thoughts and self-disgust running through his head. The bell for the first period rang, causing the two to pull apart. Daniel grimaced, knowing what that bell meant. For the next fifty minutes, he would be at the will and mercy of the most bigoted teacher on the small campus. “Wish me luck.”

“Oh, yeah. You’ve got P.E. with Coach Jamison, huh? Hell, yeah. I wish you all the luck in the world. You’re gonna need it.” Charlie said with a playful grin.

“Don’t remind me,” Daniel said, rolling his eyes and walking towards the boy’s locker room to change into the required gym uniform. Hopefully, if he got there early enough, Daniel could change in peace and hurry into the gym to get this torture over with.

Daniel found the locker to be empty and he quickly changed out of his flannel and T-shirt, then entered the gymnasium where Coach Jamison glared at him as if Daniel was a piece of dirt on his shoe. It made Daniel’s throat clench.

Daniel hung his head in shame and waited patiently for everyone else to show up in silence. Daniel only looked up after the door opened and he could feel someone’s eyes on him and what he saw made beads of sweat appear on his brow and his throat clench. It was Connor Smith, wearing a grin that sent chills down Daniel’s spine. He thought, ‘This class just somehow got even worse. Fuck me.’

[cheshirequeenwithoutaheart]

seaside towns are for thinking

It's in Hulbury, about an hour after that incredibly awkward lunch with Rose and Sonia and Oleana, that her dad finally bothers to call her.

She'd spent that hour alternating between fishing up Pokémon to battle and catch and shopping for potions and berries. Some of the incenses on sale had piqued her interest, but not enough for her to entertain buying one.

Her mind had been so preoccupied with whether to buy twenty potions or stick with the ten she already planned on buying that she'd answered the phone without thinking to check, assuming it to be either Hop or Florrian, maybe Sonia, though that felt like a stretch seeing as they'd seen each other not too long ago. Leon didn't even have her number so he was ruled out immediately.

She hums out a greeting, still preoccupied with her potion purchase dilemma, and almost drops her phone her surprise at hearing the voice on the other end of the line is so great.

"Nixie Ailse Breckenridge." Claude Breckenridge didn't have a loud voice. In fact, some would say it was a very soft and quiet voice, but the way he said his words, all cold and untouchable and impersonal, made people pay attention to him.

It also has the adverse effect of activating Nixie's knee jerk reaction of swearing without thinking.

"Fuck you," she shakes her head when the Poké Mart cashier asks if she wants any more potions, deciding it would be a good idea to not have this conversation in the middle of the Pokémon Center.

"Language," he chides, ignoring her annoyed grunt. "I heard you joined the Gym Challenge."

"You're a little late to the party, considering it's been three weeks since the Ceremony," she exits the Pokémon Center and starts walking towards the light house.

Her father makes a humming sound that could've been dismissive or acknowledging for all she knew before clearing his throat.

"I want you to quit the Gym Challenge. Now."

She blinks, blinks again, and inhales deeply before exhaling.

"Why the bloody hell would I do that?"

"I've put up with your desire to travel for too long, despite all the other, far more useful, things you could've been doing with your time, and I refuse to be associated with you when you inevitably cause trouble. If my boss were to hear about it..."

"I've met your boss," she drops her bag down to lean against her leg and stares out across the ocean, "he likes me for some reason, not that I return the sentiment. In fact, I had lunch with him not two hours ago."

Nixie ignores the deep inhale from her father and continues.

"Plus it isn't like my existence had any say in whether or not Cyrus and Lysandre decided to go through with their plans so, like, keep telling yourself I'm a troublemaker if it makes you feel better, but it's more like trouble finds me."

And it seems to be finding her once more, if the shady air Rose and his assistant give off is any indicator. She's getting paranoid, she knows it, but it's only paranoia if it isn't true.

"And, anyways, if you think I'm going to just quit because you told me too, you got another thing coming."

"I am your father-!"

"You haven’t been my father in a long time. Maybe you never were."

It takes more than blood to build a family. The bonds she’d formed with her Pokémon had taught her that.

Her smile is bland, devoid of all emotion, and her voice is falsely cheerful when she continues to speak in the silence her words create.

"So this has been a wonderful conversation. Truly wonderful. But I'm a busy girl and those gym badges aren't gonna earn themselves! Talk to you again when the world ends! Toodles!"

She ends the call and shoves her phone in her bag, collapsing down onto one of the benches with a frown carving its way onto her face.

She didn't want to think about it, not yet at least, but her father's call does prompt an unwanted realization.

They won't be staying in Galar, not once he's finally got the all clear to go jetting off to other regions again, and, not for the first time, she finds herself wanting to stay.

It's a greater want this time, she realizes.

In all of the regions before, even Sinnoh and Kalos, she'd never made connections with the people. Real connections, anyway.

Sure, she'd made connections with the places and she knew she'd miss travelling through them, seeing all the sights and pokemon they could offer, but she'd never made friends with people, not really. 

Shauna had tried, and she was thankful to the girl for that, but they'd had little in common past the part about them setting out to travel Kalos at the same time. Calem was a rival and, more often, a source of annoyance. 

She'd never really gotten Trevor, or Tierno for that matter. Never understood the desire to fill up the Pokédex or spend days creating the perfect dance team. They'd been fun, in their own way, but there were no bonds, no strong bonds anyway, between them.

Those bonds would've been what really tied her to a place.

But here, in the region of her birth, she's started to forge them, started to plant roots. She has a friend, a best friend if she's being honest, and a rival in Hop. She is friendly, if not friends, with the residents of Wedgehurts. She has a friend in Sonia and even one in the Champion, Leon.

She blinks and stares into the water, salty air invading her senses.

The Champion. Tied to one region.

She thinks back to all the talk about her, and Hop, maybe one day being strong enough to face Leon. She hadn't paid much attention to it, since beating Leon was Hop's goal (and Bede's. And Marnie's, come to think of it. And, well, most of the people taking part in the Gym Challenge had probably entertained the thought.), but now...

If she beat Leon, if she beat the undefeatable Champion and took his place, would she be able to stay in Galar, regardless of her father's wishes?

The answer, she decides as she stands up and puts her rucksack on once again, is yes.

She thinks about her competition, about the goals they have, and smiles when she realises she has one as well now.

She has something to strive towards.

Something she will make happen, come hell or high water.

@myreidola​

[countrygrlswrld]

New Zealand: Then and Now

“Only the mountains know where they have come from and where they are going and what will happen when we are gone.” —Brian Turner, “Listening to the Mountain” (1985) as seen at the Sir Edmund Hilary Mountaineering Museum

The electric blue waters are still electric blue. The peaks still tower above. The rolling green hills still conjure images of hobbits and orcs, but a lot has changed in New Zealand since Spanky and I first visited a decade ago on our inaugural trip around the world and then again just five years ago when we spent two months of the South Island alone. We returned this time for six weeks on the South and were both comforted by the sameness and shocked by some of the major changes over the years.

So, what’s changed?

Bigger vans, less freedom camping

Ten years ago you’d be hard pressed to find anything other than one of those rapey-looking Wicked campervans (made rapey-er still by sayings such as “Let’s take off our pants and cuddle”). Now, the van rentals are taller, longer, have a more sterile, hospital appearance and usually come with a Mercedes-Benz logo on the front. The hippie backpackers are still around, but as is the case in so many places in the world, the gap seems to be widening—and the travel climate is a perfect metaphor. You’ve got the rich, gray-haired travelers with their $10,000-per-month Maui and Britz vans juxtaposed by the dirt poor, 20-something Euro backpackers who bought some shitty, no-name van for $3,000 and will sell it back after their visa runs out in a year for $2,000. They’re the ones dropping trou in the parking lot to change out of the harem pants they’ve been wearing for the past 17 days; you know ‘em when you smell ‘em, I mean, see ‘em. The in-betweeners like Spank and I are becoming a rare breed, though mid-range Jucy vans like the one we rented for $2,500 for six weeks are pretty common (renting one also comes with the very serious duty of waving happily and flashing your lights every time you pass another bright green and purple van on the road #jucytribeforlife). Still, there aren’t a whole lot of 30-somethings out on the road, which is exactly why we excitedly accepted the offer of Jaeger shots from a pack of four American guys in Queenstown—uh, only someone who hit their drinking prime in the early 2000s orders Jaeger shots; it’s basically a telltale sign of someone well on his or her way toward a midlife crisis. That and getting way too amped when 50 Cents “In Da Club” comes on at the pub.

Aside from the upgrade in van sizes, New Zealand has cracked down a bit on freedom camping. We went back to some of our old off-the-road parking spots and they now have “No overnight camping” signs in where we once set up our picnic table and chairs. It’s sad, but I understand that they don’t want tourist dumps all over the place. I don’t blame them one bit, especially considering most tourists are from the city and don’t know how to properly dispose of their dumps. I mean, hello, have you ever been to San Francisco? If not, this is your courtesy warning: Watch your step; that wasn’t Fluffy.

Better beer

No, we didn’t just drink Jaeger shots and Sauvignon Blanc on this NZ trip. We also dabbled in hops, and what we found were IPAs and APAs and, heaven forbid, Sour Gose! That’s right, New Zealand has arrived on the beer scene. Just five years ago you were lucky to find anything other than a pilsner or lager—think Bud and Coors. Not only are their beers more varied now, but they’ve got the whole locale down. In Wanaka we stumbled on the brewery Rhyme & Reason bumping 90s gangsta rap and sandwiched next to a CrossFit gym in the industrial part of town. Wait, are we in America??

More rich people—more people, in general

With the campervan shift comes a shift in the demographic. Not only are there more travelers, but there are just more people in New Zealand than when Spank and I first visited a decade ago. It’s one of those heartbreaking realities when your special little spot is discovered by the masses. Thanks a lot Frodo. I blame you and your hairy, hobbit feet. You just had to go tramping all over Aeotera pretending it was Middle Earth and showing everyone how raw and unique it was. “Frodo!” (*In the voice of Jerry Seinfeld cursing his nemesis Newman.)

There aren’t just more people; there are more people with coin to throw down. They put a Louis Vuitton on the Queenstown waterfront overlooking Lake Wakatipu for sobbing out loud. Bleh. And, the housing market has followed suit. There are new houses and condos being built by the Chinese tourist busloads, which is to say there are a lot and they just keep coming. And, we heard a Kiwi throw out a figure like “the average Kiwi makes $40,000 and the average house is $1 million.” There went our dreams of buying a house in New Zealand—it’s as bad, or worse, than the California housing market right now. Plus, the Kiwis apparently passed legislation to keep us outsiders from buying property. Again, I can’ blame them. They are struggling dearly to keep their Kiwiness in tact, and having one hell of a time doing it.

It’s lost a little luster

All this to say that New Zealand will always have a special place in our hearts, but it has lost a little of its luster. It probably didn’t help that we hiked in the Himalayas and Chile’s Torres del Paine then drove the Canadian Rockies to Alaska and back two years ago; those sights didn’t totally trump the natural gems of NZ, but they did give it a good run for its money.

One more thing: There are still sandflies...and I still hate them.

Still, a lot has remained the same...

Natural beauty and Kiwis ideas of conservation

People love to idealize Kiwi concepts of conservation without really understanding them. Sure, they want to preserve their native species, but the ones that aren’t native? You dead. I mean, they mow down red deer, tahr, opossum and stoat with extreme prejudice. Good for them. Kiwis realize which critters were here and which ones were brought over later on, and they don’t try to protect the ones they knowingly brought over. They could care less about those, really. Plus, they aren’t too proud to say, “Yeah, we screwed up when we were trying to play God.” Americans, however, tend to want to protect everything—native or non-native. In every hut along the Routeburn Track we heard about the nuisance of the stoat and the traps set out for them. The hut wardens were unapologetic about snapping their little stoat necks to save the precious native birds; I admired their transparency and lack of political correctness.

Kiwis also treat timber as a renewable resource, a crop that is cut down and replanted. Drive around and you’ll see neatly lined rows of Douglas Fir all the same height ready for harvest one day. It’s like one giant tree farm. Again, we want to save, save, save to the point that a fire comes along and happily gobbles up the whole lot that has not been thinned or taken care of, and boom, it’s gone just like that, but that’s another soap box for another time. Don’t worry, I won’t even touch immigration or gun control with a 10-foot pole right now.

Of course, what I love the most about New Zealand is the natural beauty, and though the throngs of people ruin that for me a bit, you can still escape and get off the beaten path and away from the masses. It’s all about choosing places that aren’t listed on every tourist site (i.e. the Hooker Valley Track at Mt. Cook that was just overrun with people) and choosing longer hikes (the longer the hike the fewer people up for the challenge, which means more high-altitude sights all to yourself!)

Incredible amount of access to the outdoors

Despite the restrictions on some freedom camping, there is still so much access to the outdoors. You can’t throw a stone and not hit one of those little yellow and green Department of Conservation signs. You see them wherever you go, and they signify a track or conservation camping area but most of them mark out tracks aka hiking trails. New Zealand just recently opened a nearly 2,000-mile thru-hiking trail from the North to the South Island on top of the huge amount of trails they already have. They continue to add new Great Walks, all of which have fantastic hut systems for overnighting backpackers. In total, New Zealand has nearly 1,000 huts so people can explore and enjoy the outdoors.

Kindness of Kiwis

I hope they never lose this, but as countries “progress” toward consumerism and what ultimately just feels like the almighty goal of Americanness and thus sameness, people seem to care less for each other and more about getting ahead. I still didn’t feel that overwhelmingly in New Zealand, but it’s a slow fade. It sneaks in. Plus, we spent next to no time in the larger cities, where I tend to feel that fade the most. All in all, we still sense that Kiwi hospitality. Backpackers still hitchhike without fear of being abducted or mugged and they still open their homes to perfect strangers, as we experienced with the gracious Kiwi couple from Nelson that we met at the Hokitika Wild Food Fetival amongst another group of friendly Kiwis. Even in Queenstown, where there are very few born-and-raised Kiwis, we met a group of timber guys (i.e. loggers) from NZ and hit it off right away. Before even speaking they were buying us a favorite spirit and cozying up next to the fire with us for a chat about politics, which went rather well, considering we shared many of the same views. I just hope these Kiwis can withstand the change of time and not end up on the endangered list like their national bird.

[eternalstereksecretsanta]

merry kiss-mas Mr. Hale

@kevaaronday | AO3 | I hope you like it! Happy holidays! Stiles’ daughter has been having some issues in school yet despite everything, she is extremely excited for her school’s holiday recital. So is Stiles when he meets a certain handsome teacher that he just so happens to wind up under the mistletoe with.

It wasn’t often that Stiles’ daughter was so excited to go to school. Yet there she was, tugging on his sleeve and bouncing impatiently on the balls of her feet.

Her brown hair, carefully and painstakingly curled and adorned with a pristine white hair ribbon, swayed as she urged Stiles to get ready quicker. With a punched out laugh, Stiles raised his arms, conceding, “Alright, alright. No hair gel tonight, Claudia, I get it.”

“Makes you look funny,” she solemnly declared, nodding gravely as she ceased her bouncing. Maintaining her surprisingly tight grip on the sleeve of Stiles’ dress shirt, she tacked on, “Like a porkie-pine.”

Stiles let out an indignant huff, raising his brows at his daughter. Setting his hands on his hips, he challenged, “A porcupine? Really? Sure, maybe a hedgehog. But a porcupine?”

Claudia gave another serious nod. “Yup. A porkie-pine, daddy.”

“A handsome porcupine, though, right?” Stiles teased, turning back to the mirror to keep fiddling with his necktie. Jeez, he was twenty seven years old and he still couldn’t tie a Windsor knot.

Even as he focused on the length of silken fabric wrapped around his neck, he noticed Claudia’s wrinkled nose out of the corner of his eye. Shaking his head with a fond smile, he called up the stairs, “Hey, dad! You ready to go?”

Twenty seven, can’t tie a Windsor, and I still live with my dad. Father of year, right here, Stiles groused as he continued struggling with his tie. He supposed that was what happened when you had a child at nineteen years old.

Not that he would ever regret having Claudia. No. Not in a million years.

The only thing he regretted was how unprepared he had been for fatherhood. He hadn’t planned on having kids until he was much older, until he was established in his career with a place of his own and a loving, committed partner.

But, of course, with his luck, his first hookup, his first one night stand, his first sexual experience whatsoever had resulted in a beautiful baby girl and a deferred life plan.

Eight years ago, Stiles had gone to a belated New Year’s party at his friend Heather’s house to celebrate her eighteenth birthday. It had been a lovely party, full of music and dancing and champagne.

Then, one thing had led to another and Stiles had lost his virginity in Heather’s parents’ wine cellar, exchanging uncoordinated champagne flavored kisses. It had been rushed and woefully unromantic, both of their inexperience resulting in more than a few embarrassing moments.

Afterwards, he and Heather had gone back to being just friends, putting their drunken hookup behind them. But nine months and a broken condom later, Stiles was being called down to the hospital for the birth of his daughter.

What had happened next was a mix of selfishness and fatherly obligation.

In the delivery room, as Stiles cradled his new baby girl and fought to hold back tears as he called his dad, Heather announced that she wanted to put the baby up for adoption. It was an understandable choice, they were both young and had their whole lives ahead of them and a baby was just too much.

But looking down into those big, trusting brown eyes as his daughter gazed up at him with all the innocence and wonder of a newborn, Stiles had immediately known that he would never be able to give her up.

After filling out the birth certificate, naming his daughter Claudia Heather Stilinski after his mother and her own, Stiles took his daughter home. Heather signed the papers to terminate her parental rights a few days later after she decided that it was best not to be involved in her daughter’s life.

Over the next three years, Stiles worked his ass off at college while maintaining two jobs and caring for his daughter. His dad helped as best he could while juggling the responsibilities of his own job.

Fortunately, his best friend’s mother, Melissa, volunteered to help with babysitting, sweeping in like an angel sent from heaven itself. And Scott and Allison were more than willing to drop by to lavish their goddaughter with as much attention as possible.

Overall, Stiles had been rather lucky to have such a wonderful support system to help him raise his daughter. Likewise, apart from a few minor hiccups, thanks to his family he was able to graduate with honors and secure a position at the local sheriff’s station.

It was an uphill battle where he encountered all sorts of obstacles like the stigma against unwed teenaged parents and the many misconceptions about single dads, but it was definitely worth it.

It was almost perfect. And it probably would have been if not for Claudia’s school.

It wasn’t that she had any really serious problems. She wasn’t unruly or disruptive. No more than any other eight year old, anyway.

She loved learning the same way that Stiles did. She was already at a sixth grade reading level, reading books like Harry Potter and Freak the Mighty.

She loved math and science and music. Hell, she even liked gym class. Which was something she must have inherited from Heather since Stiles despised gym class, regardless of the fact that he had played on the lacrosse team.

The only problem was that she, like her father, had ADHD.

Claudia’s symptoms had differed from Stiles but the ones that he did immediately recognize — the constant fidgeting, the inability to contain her outbursts, the difficulties concentrating — were cause enough for him to bring her to a specialist. He would be damned if his daughter fell between the cracks and went undiagnosed, written off as just a problem child.

School became the ultimate evil, something Stiles was all too familiar with. Claudia’s inattentiveness meant she had trouble focusing in class and an even harder time finishing her homework.

Her tendency to talk over other kids and teachers had earned her the disdain of her fellow students. That disdain bubbled over into juvenile acts of bullying and ostracism.

Which led to a great deal of frustration for Claudia. Of course, that led to emotional outbursts and crying fits in class.

Like a vicious cycle, her occasional meltdowns resulted in even more bullying from her classmates. The first time she had come home from school and told him that someone had called her a crybaby, Stiles had been ready to march down to the school and knock tiny heads together.

It got worse as the winter holidays drew closer. It wasn’t easy being the only Jewish kid around Christmastime.

Luckily, there was one bright spot in the otherwise abysmal school situation. That bright spot had a name: Mr. Derek Hale.

He was Claudia’s teacher, a member of the renowned Hale family that was practically royalty in the little town of Beacon Hills. Small town monarchy, Stiles called it, not that he had anything against the Hales.

Talia Hale, the matriarch of the family, was the mayor of Beacon Hills. She had ushered in an era of tax cuts for the lower and middle classes, affordable healthcare, and increased rights for LGBT+ citizens.

Her husband, Samuel Hale, was the chief at the county fire station. He was one of the most decorated firefighters California had ever seen.

Their many children, all grown, held similar positions of high esteem. Their eldest, Laura, was a model slash actress; their youngest, Cora, ran a popular coffee shop in town; and their middle child, Derek, taught third grade.

Oftentimes the only good thing about Claudia’s days at school, Mr. Hale was a frequent topic of conversation in the Stilinski home. Especially once the holiday recital drew near.

Mr. Hale was the one who had arranged the recital with the help of some volunteers from the high school, namely the guidance counselor Marin Morrell and the new history teacher Vernon ‘just Boyd’ Boyd.

It was designed to be a celebration of the holidays and what they stood for, family and friends and all that sentimental crap that Stiles loved. The recital itself, according to the playbill that had been sent home the week prior to the recital, was supposed to consist of various holiday songs and skits.

Initially, Claudia hadn’t wanted to participate, let alone attend the recital. But after some cajoling from Stiles and some encouragement from Mr. Hale himself, she had eventually capitulated.

The fact that Mr. Hale had given her a solo in the recital may or may not have contributed to her finally agreeing.

Thus her adorable impatience and the beautiful white dress that Stiles had saved up to buy for her. It was a simple white shift dress with delicate lace sleeves and faux fur lining the back of the collar, exorbitantly priced thanks to the designer.

But Stiles hadn’t been able to deny Claudia when she had seen it in a store window and fallen in love with it.

With a white bow in her hair and white flats on her feet, she looked like an angel. Stiles had tucked a pocket pack of tissues into the pocket of his dress pants for a reason.

Speaking of dressing up, Stiles groaned in defeat and whipped the tie off his neck. Balling it up, he tossed it over the back of the couch, figuring a dress shirt and some slacks was dressed up enough for a third grade recital.

Shrugging as he buttoned up his collar, hoping he didn’t look like a schlep, he called out again, “Dad?”

“Yeah, I’m coming!” The Sheriff called from upstairs, his statement immediately followed by the sound of someone thundering down the stairs. A moment later, he rounded the corner, fiddling with his own necktie, a medium gray to match his suit jacket and pants.

Stiles whistled. “Looking good there, old man. When’s the last time you got all gussied up? The 1920s?”

“1820s, smartass,” the Sheriff shot back with a glare that lacked any real heat. He realized what he had just said a moment later.

“Grandpa! You said ass!” Claudia pointed out with all the righteous fury of an eight year old. Releasing Stiles’ sleeve, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at the Sheriff with a stern pout.

“Yes. Yes, I did,” he conceded, scratching the back of his head. He reached into his pocket, keys jiggling, to pull out a quarter that he promptly dropped into a mason jar on top of the nearby side table. It was nearly filled to the label of swear jar.

“So did you, little missie,” Stiles admonished, still wondering how he was going to break Claudia of her habit of repeating cuss words. He pointed at the swear jar. “Put a quarter in.”

Claudia’s pout intensified. She met Stiles’ eyes as she announced, “I don’t have any. I don’t have a job.”

Sometimes it was frightening just how alike Claudia and he were. Shaking away that scary thought, Stiles informed her, “Fine, that’s a quarter outta your next allowance, then.”

“Okay, daddy!” Claudia agreed without hesitation, clapping her hands together in excitement. With a little twirl, she turned to the Sheriff, grabbing his hand to tug him towards the front door.

With a huff of amusement, Stiles ran a hand through his hair and turned back to the side table to grab his wallet and car keys. He did a final check of all his things — wallet, check; keys, check; cell phone, check; Adderall, check — before meeting Claudia and John by the front door.

        *        *        *        *        *

The holiday recital was just as jam packed with holiday cheer as the playbill promised.

The sets were beautiful. All of the backdrops were hand painted, snowy forest scenes and cityscapes full of lights and holiday revelry.

The props were extremely realistic, from plastic Christmas trees and wreaths to wrapped presents with shiny bows. Whoever had carved the wooden reindeer deserved an award for set design.

The set itself was complemented by strings of multicolored fairy lights that illuminated the whole stage. They flashed in all sorts of colors, keeping time with the rhythm of the songs.

Refreshments were served, during brief intermissions between songs so children participating in more than one song had time to change costumes. Teacher volunteers handed out cups of hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies.

As ashamed as Stiles was to admit it, he ended up zoning out during most of the performances. He was too preoccupied with thinking about Claudia’s performance that was scheduled to be the grand finale.

He was worried that she might forget the lyrics, might get distracted by some stray thought or interesting fun fact. He was terrified that she might get overwhelmed by all the lights and the attention and the sheer amount of people.

The last thing he wanted was for her to end up getting embarrassed in front of everyone. Her classmates would never let her live it down.

Stiles knew from experience. He had accidentally messed up his lines in a play in fifth grade thanks to his motormouth. Senior year of high school, he had still been getting teased about it.

Stiles wasn’t alone in his anxious waiting. Beside him, his dad jiggled his leg as he twiddled his thumbs and constantly checked his watch.

He wasn’t sure if strength in numbers counted in matters of anxiety and fatherly apprehension but it made him feel better that he wasn’t the only one freaking one. By the time Claudia’s performance rolled around, both Stilinski men were nervous wrecks.

They both held their breaths as the curtain lifted to reveal Claudia standing in the center of the stage under a bright white light. She looked like an angel, bathed in light as the fairy lights twinkled in shades of white and blue.

The moment she started to sing, perfectly reciting the first lines of This Little Light Of Mine, they both started crying. Sniffling a bit, John leaned to the side and whispered, “You still have those tissues?”

Stiles handed over the pack of tissues without comment.

Once Claudia finished her song, polishing it off with a polite curtsy and a radiant smile, both Stiles and his dad were on their feet. Fortunately, they weren’t the only ones as everyone else in the audience gave the performers a standing ovation.

As the room filled with thunderous applause, Stiles turned to his dad to wrap his arms around him in a tight hug. The Sheriff enthusiastically returned the hug, cupping the back of Stiles’ neck and squeezing, the same way he used to when Stiles was younger and woke up screaming from a nightmare.

“C'mon, let’s go get Claudia,” John suggested, wiping at his eyes with another tissue. Stiles did the same, nodding silently as he started the awkward shuffle out of the aisle and towards the back of the stage.

Backstage there was already a large group of parents congregating. They traded compliments and stories of previous holiday recitals.

Stiles led the way, weaving around parents congratulating their kids on their performance, dodging overly aggressive soccer moms and overcompensating divorced dads. He finally found Claudia standing by a sleek black piano, toying with the bow in her hair.

“Daddy!” She shouted in greeting when Stiles drew near, leaning down to scoop her up. He spun her around, earning a gleeful peel of laughter as she giggled.

“You were so great!” Stiles gushed as he stopped his spinning. “Really! You sounded like an angel!”

“Did I really?” Claudia pressed, her eyes lighting up with the praise. Turning to the Sheriff, she eagerly asked, “Grandpa?”

“You were amazing, sweetheart,” John confirmed, reaching over to squeeze her hand. Glancing at Stiles, he offered a sad smile. “I just wish your grandmother could’ve seen it.”

“It’s okay, grandpa,” Claudia assured him, stretching her arms out to wrap them around his neck in a tight hug. John returned the hug, lifting Claudia out of Stiles’ arms and into his own.

Shoving any and all bittersweet thoughts out of his head, Stiles clapped his hands together. Once Claudia and John turned to him, he asked, “Alright, you ready to go home?”

“No!” Claudia cried, gesturing for the Sheriff to let her down. The second her feet hit the floor, she grabbed Stiles by the hand and started towing him somewhere as she announced, “C'mon, daddy! You have to meet Mr. Hale!”

*        *        *        *        *

They found Mr. Hale surrounded by a ring of desperate divorcees in gaudy Christmas sweaters and holiday dresses way to revealing for a third grade recital.

The poor guy seemed to be holding his own, though his discomfort was blatantly apparent. And Stiles could only see the back of the guy’s head. It was that clear.

“I don’t know, Claudia, he looks a little busy,” Stiles said. He looked down at Claudia only to find that she was nowhere to be found.

A frenzied scan of the surrounding area found her wriggling past two women who were wearing so much perfume Stiles could smell it from where he stood. Once she had infiltrated the circle of women, she tapped her teacher on the hand, politely requesting, “Mr. Hale? Can you come meet my daddy?”

“Sorry, everyone. I’ll be right back,” an even, clearly relieved voice excused. Taking Claudia’s hand, Mr. Hale turned around and promptly made Stiles’ jaw drop.

Complete with a dark shadow of stubble that made Stiles’ knees weak, Mr. Hale’s face was a work of art so beautiful it could bring home all the ships Helen’s face launched. Dusted with the aforementioned sinfully sexy stubble, high cheekbones and a square jaw added equal parts elegance and ruggedness to his look.

His hair was pitch black, neatly combed back and slightly parted. It looked thick and silky smooth, perfect for absentmindedly running one’s hands through.

He was tall, maybe an inch or two taller than Stiles himself, and clearly in good shape. He filled out his black suit nicely, his red damask tie brought out the warm tones of his slightly tanned skin.

Belatedly realizing that it was probably very inappropriate to drool over his daughter’s third grade teacher, Stiles snapped his mouth shut. With a bright smile, Mr. Hale stepped closer, offering his free hand for a handshake.

Praying his hands weren’t clammy, Stiles shook Mr. Hale’s hand. Plastering a smile on his face, he greeted, “You must be the famous Mr. Hale I’ve heard so much about.”

“And you must be Claudia’s father,” Mr. Hale returned. “It’s nice to meet you. And, please, call me Derek.”

“Nice to meet you, Derek,” Stiles replied, dropping his hand to take Claudia’s as she moved to stand beside him. Squeezing her hand, he looked back at Derek and tacked on, “Call me Stiles.”

He was about to thank Derek for putting together the recital when Claudia interrupted. Smiling innocently, she looked up at Derek and announced, “See, Mr. Hale? Daddy didn’t use any hair gel tonight. He doesn’t look like a porkie-pine, right?”

“No. Not like a porkie-pine,” Derek agreed, flashing Stiles a grin so bright it outshone the fairy lights still twinkling on stage. There were crinkles by the corners of his eyes, eyes that were the most spectacular shade of hazel.

“Isn’t he handsome?” Claudia drawled, the PG rated version of a shit-eating grin stretched across her face. Angel, his ass.

Stiles felt his face flush with heat at the comment. Fighting the urge to start fidgeting, Stiles set a hand on Claudia’s back and gently pushed her in the other direction, instructing, “Okay, missy, go find your grandpa.”

Claudia skipped away to go find the Sheriff, long curls swaying behind her. Stiles shook his head fondly, apologizing, “Sorry about that. Claudia likes to think of herself as a little matchmaker. I think she gets it from my dad.”

“Not a problem,” Derek assured him, running a hand through his dark hair, mussing it up. Eyes crinkling again, he continued, “She’s not wrong. You do look very handsome.”

Before Stiles could embarrass himself by blurting out something stupid like fun facts about penguins, he was cut off by the sound of a very familiar giggle. Whipping his head to the side, Stiles found Claudia standing a few feet away with the Sheriff, both of them chuckling under their breaths.

“And what, pray tell, is so funny, young lady?” Stiles inquired, setting his hands on his hips. He used his Stern Father Voice™ for good measure.

Instead of answering, both Claudia and the Sheriff pointed at something above his head. Stiles craned his neck to look up at whatever they were pointing at.

It was a bough of mistletoe, green leaves accented by waxy white berries and a bright red ribbon. And surely enough, it was hanging over he and Derek’s heads.

“You have to kiss!” Claudia shrieked happily, clapping her hands. The Sheriff seemed to agree, nodding his head in encouragement.

“Alright, you two,” Stiles admonishment, turning back to them. He tossed his keys to his dad, shooing them, “Time to go home. Go wait for me in the car.”

They obediently turned on their heels and retreated, pausing to wave goodbye at Derek. Once they were out of earshot, Stiles turned back to Derek, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about them,” he apologized, wincing. “I don’t really know what’s gotten into them lately.”

“They’re not wrong,” Derek claimed, taking a step closer. With a glance upward, he explained, “We are standing under the mistletoe. And tradition does say we’re supposed to kiss. Do you really wanna go against tradition?”

Suddenly, Derek was standing much closer. The scent of his subtle cologne filled the air between them, the air warmed by how close their bodies were.

“No. No, of course not,” Stiles murmured, his voice sounding faraway and faint as Derek’s warm hand on his cheek tilted his head up. A moment later, Derek’s lips were on his, warm and wet and perfect.

It started out as a chaste kiss. Just a simple peck on the lips between new acquaintances so as to honor an ancient holiday tradition.

But then it turned a little more heated, a little deeper. He wasn’t sure who deepened the kiss but regardless a moment later Derek’s hand was in Stiles’ hair and Stiles’ arms were thrown around Derek’s neck.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stiles knew that it was probably extremely amoral and unprofessional and inappropriate to be making out with his daughter’s teacher backstage while a throng of other parents milled around. But at that moment, he couldn’t have cared less if he tried.

Eventually, they pulled apart, desperately trying to regain some semblance of decorum. Stiles coughed, face burning bright red, and stammered out, “So… That happened.”

“Yeah,” Derek answered, looking just as flushed as Stiles. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair, massaging the back of his head. With a wink, he announced, “Y'know, I’m really glad you didn’t use any hair gel tonight. Not that it would’ve made kissing you any less wonderful.”

Stiles let out a very manly giggle. He murmured something about having to take Claudia home, starting towards the door.

But before he could get very far, Derek wrapped him up in another quick kiss. Lips brushing against Stiles’, he whispered, “I was thinking about putting on a recital for New Year’s. You in?”

Then it was Stiles’ turn to get excited about going back to school.

[leonbastralle]

Malmine’s Day Out In Berry World (And More) - Replies

i could absolutely get used to this, also sorry for the wall of text but i think read more works on mobile now?

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “M: I HAVE THE BEST WIFE HA HA HA!!!!! ALSO FOOD!”

mAAAAAAARR STOP BEING SUCH A HUGE NERD

HE CANT THIS IS WHO HE IS

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

IM GOING TO HIRE U UR BETTER AT CAPPING THEM THAN I AM ❤️ 😭👌🏼

wtf nOOO your shots are so aesthetic i just take a billion pics and post them all but also pls hire me for anything thanks

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

YESSSS

WOOOOOOOOOO

pixeldemographics replied to your post “I heard you wanted to see a weirdo (not)”

Wow a cutie patootie with an extremely Adequate Shirt!! ❤️

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

Hell. YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH

THEIR FIRST DIP KISS I CANT BELIEVE IT

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

mar stop manhandling ur wife also they cant escape their origin story lmao

its gr8 man i wish i could do smth cool with art and shadows now

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

IM Dying AND LIVING SO MUCH RN THANK U THANK U THIS IS A BALM AFTER U KNOW WHAT

tHATS GOOD THATS GR8 IM FEELING V ACCOMPLISHED

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

@1st pic mar wheres that hand going mar what are u doing

pl A C E S u kno thats just how he is

man i sure lov those presidents and their impure thoughts in public places

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “M: Jessamine! You did great. J: Why thank you! You weren’t too bad...”

Yes YESSSSS APPRECIATE EACH OTHER JESS RUN UR HANDS ALL OVER THAT BACK

now thats a comment i could have written

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “M: I want death.”

MY DUDE ITS PART OF BEING A POLITICIAN

i KNOW I JUST HAD TO

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

theres my perfect daughter in law

:o she is man

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “after today I’ll actually gonna stop spamming sims I can’t take credit...”

who the fuck is this tho idk her lmao

your goddess thats who

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “local alien cinnamon roll still a cinnamon roll”

can i adopt her please (i dont remember if i did already or not)

u can totally adopt and/or marry her tho tbh adopting WOULD probably be better since glow would get v sad and pathi v mad if u married her...well find someone else for u to marry if youd like and its not creepy

pixeldemographics replied to your post “wcifthe eyes of blue guy that trellis talked to?”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! iM LOVING THE TAGS EYE EMOJI

tHANK YOU I WASNT SURE IF THEY WERE TOO MUCH BUT SOMEONE TOLD ME TO DO IT

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “J: Good game, Trellis! T: Man…it seems talent just can’t beat youth....”

im crying so much jess is back at it with the selfies and trellis im so proud of trellis she is so GOOD

sAME I HAV A LOT OF FEELINGS FOR BOTH OF THEM ALSO LIL JESS OUTING HERSELF ABT HER FLAME OBSESSION ONCE MORE

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “T: Okay, remind me again why we HAVE to have a hot president?”

Ok trellis but......... a concept......... its gr8 he beat his meat to get here

i mean since im a troll and like to put impossible knowledge in my sims trellis has a clue or two but if it was confirmed to her i assure you she would appreciate the work that went into those biceps

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

ASSSSSS

aLSO A COOL SHOT SMH

pixeldemographics replied to your post “9, 10”

;) ;) ;) im living for this potential murdering for the challenge

;) ;) ;) ;) ;) dude i might have to tell you because i wanna tell someone and you inspired this so...and for all we know i might never get to gen 8 which would mean id never finish the rainbowcy and start smth new so

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

dUNKED

fun fact abt this shot: i drew half of the fuccin net because the bball always clips through it during this and i hated it so much because i loved the shot a lot

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

mAKE MOMMA PROUD

ALWAYS SHE WAS SO DAMN GOOD

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

dan trellis has some nice legs :o GO GIRL

well she got a lot of exercise but i too would lov naturally hairless legs

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

smh opal arent u supposed to support ur partner in balls

opal dont support anyone that aint sprout tbh

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “O: Woooooooooo!! Not bad, Mr President. M: Please never call me that...”

i MEAN trellis did u check those ABS and GUNS and bAD SHOULDERS OUT???

shE DID TRUST ME SHE TOOK A REASONABLE AMOUNT OF TIME TO ACKNOWLEDGE THESE ABS AND GUNS AND BAD SHOULDERS AND MORE

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “?”

idk what happened with that comment im dead

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “?”

cOME ON AND SMAAAAASH AND WELCOME TO THE JAM  👀  👀  👀  👀  👀

i dont know man but its beautiful

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

jfsdsfjdsfsd im crying so much im dead and im so glad mar is like..... giving nip town some much needed rep

he is man he is i need more of it but i also dont wanna b too obnoxious abt it...and also im realising the only other nip town rep on this blog will probably b snowdrifticus...

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

ill b very honest and admit that in light of recent conversations this image can have some...... er ot i c....... connotations...... which is to say...... i lov it

cATII PLS I TOOK THIS AS AN AESTHETIC INNOCENT SHOT

(but also yes. yes y e ss YE S)

pixeldemographics replied to your photo “The Outlaw & The Outcast”

PROTECC THESE KIDS FROM THIS DISFUNCTIONAL FAMILY

ILL TRY MAN i dont think the fam is gonna b the biggest danger to them tho

pixeldemographics replied to your photo “The Outlaw & The Outcast”

ALSO I LOV THEIR PROFILES I LOV THEM I LOVE PULSES SASS AND U KNO HOW I FEEL ABT HER IN GENERAL (WINK WINK)

i kNO HOW U FEEL ABT HER YES I KNO JUST WELL I KNO U WANT THAT MIDDLE FINGER (im sorry the friend u ordered is broken ill get u a refund)

pixeldemographics replied to your photo “The Outlaw & The Outcast”

OK FIRST OFF THIS IS SUCH AN AMAZING AESTHETIC IM CRYING SO HARD RN

aaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA???????????????? CAN U NOT YOURE AESTHETIC GOALS AND YOU CALL THIS AESTHETIC I CRY IVE BEEN APPROVED BY THE AESTHETIC QUEEN??

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “T: *regrets challenging the boss of everything* M: Did the ball really...”

Also i cry bc if she shortens her name as usual its mar which is sea in portuguese and just adds to the whole aesthetic :’)

;____________; yE S

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “T: *regrets challenging the boss of everything* M: Did the ball really...”

It seems like mar is not the only one who handles balls well  👀  👀  👀

i mean...there is a possibility that she does too i wouldnt know.......theres actually a possibility that they r all pretty skilled i wonder why

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset

Is that a face of....... r e g r e t

probably, trellis is competitive af and v easily gets insecure when shes not the best (aka me???)

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “J: He’s so cute! T: Isn’t he? I did good. Is Martinique joining us...”

But im crying and dying and thriving so hard rn u said this was the fave IT IS I LOVE THIS SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️

;______________________________________________; i too am crying in retrospect and was crying

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “J: He’s so cute! T: Isn’t he? I did good. Is Martinique joining us...”

Jess would probably love to b slam dunked tbh i cant believe her

👀  👀  *halamshiral eavesdrop voice* inTERESTINGGGG pls tell me mor

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “S: I assume that’s a rhetorical question. I’ll browse the shops for...”

jess: wow love!!!

her face looking at shine and trellis gave me life she was probably like...mar too likes to do this...and that...i wonder if he too will still do that when were older...will he stay with me...i sure hope so

and trellis was like well if he dont u kno shine will freeze him and then ill literally kill him so i bet he dont want to risk that

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “T: *giggles* Shine, come on. I’d have thought you knew me better than...”

i approve of trellis conscientious citizenship i LOV HER

sAME IM SO GLAD I GOT THE OPPORTUNITY TO DEVELOP THIS PART OF HER

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “T: *giggles* Shine, come on. I’d have thought you knew me better than...”

lmao i bet shine is picturing this in one of those top 10 anime betrayals meme

yes absolutely can u pls make a meme out of this and also everything

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “T: I’m here, darling…oh, Jess! Hi! You made it! J: Trellis! Ready for...”

cOME ON AND SLAM AND WELCOME TO THE JAM

YOU GOT IT

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “S: Mrs Lilywhite! Is that you? What a coincidence! It’s good to see...”

dsjasdsasdajdsajsadjsad im living and dying and crying so much ANNIEEEEEEEE

aksjfbakjsbfkajbsfknajsbfaksjf already ;_;

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “S: Wait, isn’t that…”

yES YES IT IS SJSDJDJSDFFSDDSF

me watching you commenting:

pixeldemographics replied to your photoset “It’s time for a group outing on Trellis’ day off!”

i lov the sound of that warning i know ill die

same always

pixeldemographics replied to your post “2, 6, 13, 14, 20, 29, 30!! ;)”

follow up question whats flames fave type of meme

flame is flame he loves every meme he IS every meme but a few selected faves would be alien guy, doge, breadsticks, ermergerd, history of...um...whatever the berry name of japan is my color page isnt working xD and dark kermit i think those are some of his faves yes

pixeldemographics replied to your post “2, 6, 13, 14, 20, 29, 30!! ;)”

i cant believe aur went to the gym and play with his b balls ;)

but can u rly not because i can, i too would if u hav such mighty balls u gotta give them some appreciation

pixeldemographics replied to your post “2, 6, 13, 14, 20, 29, 30!! ;)”

i cant believe ficus is surrounded by ppl who give middle fingers and trELLIS TOTALLY HAS THE FACE OF A MURDERER YES

hES SO SAFE (ALSO NOT RLY) and thank you because she absolutely considered to get in on som fango plots

pixeldemographics replied to your post “special noses (u rly vary ur shape) and fluffy lips, they always look...”

the lips mostly!! but theyre always in combo with the nose i cant describe it but yes these soft kids

;________________; i mean...i guess they are their mothers children...

[stunudo]

...when you're attracted to someone, it just means that your subconscious is attracted to their subconscious, subconsciously. So what we think of as fate is just two neuroses knowing that they are a perfect match.

Dennis Reed from “Sleepless in Seattle”

Going Down With The Ship

One of the Six: A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Featuring: Bethany Devereaux x Gideon

A/N: Okay, here is the Trope List challenge for @reiding-and-writing. I chose #9 Sleepless in Seattle Moment. This fits into my OC Series “One of the Six.” The trope scene takes place during the original investigation of Season 3 Episode 19 “Tabula Rasa”.  So it seems like 99.7% of the fandom does NOT like Gideon. Therefore the title fits the expected disinterest/ loathing of this, plus- well Bets was in the Navy people. Also you may have a reason to hate him more... xoxo Stu

I cannot tell you the moment it happened. I wasn’t paying attention. I am unable to pinpoint even the day it happened. It was a slow realization, but a quick shame. Hotch knew. He never said so, but Hotch knew. Damn it I wonder who else knew? Oh well, can’t do anything about it now. I was never a romantic person. If someone gave me the warm fuzzies, I would probably make out with them though.

This wasn’t the puppy love I had with T.J. Stevens my sophomore year at the academy. It wasn’t even what the few months I dated Janet Hyde before she left me for a rookie cop she met at the gym were. This was something else entirely and that is why I never saw it coming. After four years working together I woke up to the unfathomable revelation that I was in love with Jason. What the hell was this?

185 Days Remain

We were still working through the case files when Haley popped in with some take out. I don’t know what Aaron did to win this woman over, but it was not enough. She tried to swing by when we weren’t busy, feeding the wayward profilers or just checking in on us. She was extremely good at her job, but I knew she was only a little blue line away from dropping it all. The way Lover Boy and her looked at each other it was a surprise they didn’t have a litter already.

“Hey H-2, how are you?!” I called, tossing the folder back on to my inspection worthy desk. Her big grin greeted me, I rushed over to help with the bags of Chinese. The Crab Rangoon was calling to me, it had only been 9 hours since breakfast after all.

“Bets, thank you. I thought I was going to lose a quart of Kung Pao Chicken to the carpet!” We wound around the matrix of desks and dropped everything on the break room table. Finally Hotch realized his wife had arrived so I left them alone and headed back with my stash of fried goodness. As Jason walked past me the sparkle in his eye caused a rush to my cheeks. I was confused so I just shoved a piece of food in my mouth and grinned like a goofball.

“We should really bring her along on cases, she always finds the best egg rolls.” Jason explained, rubbing his hands as he headed to the waiting meal. It had been a few weeks of odd nerves and slight blushes up until that point. I now only associate Crab (or what passes for it) with my embarrassment, needless to say I no longer eat it.

I was working late, not that that was odd. What was off about it was that I didn’t need to be. Morgan had left, the SAs had left, even the Bird had left. I headed up to the offices because I wanted to say goodnight. Jason was at his desk with a projector watching film strips. It brought back memories of the awful stuffy afternoons in the science classroom when we were forced to watch an un-medicated birth or terrible animations of sperm swimming.

But there he was laughing. It was a silent film but it was clearly the grandfather to modern physical comedies. I pictured a young Jim Carey attempting the same bits. It was so raw and silly. I got lost in the story. I didn’t see when he came over to lean on the door jam with me. We stood there for the rest of the reel, enjoying the gags. It was a comfortable quiet.

When the tell tale clicking of the end of the film had reached an awkward rhythm I finally looked at him. He was smiling warmly at me, nothing new. “Have a good night, Bethany.” I smiled shyly. “You too, sir.”

I was frozen for a moment in his dark eyes, but then the moment passed and I went home.

“You don’t have the capacity to love these women!” Jason spat at the unsub as he held the victim by the hair, a machete in the other hand. “Put down the knife, Reynolds. Tell me your story, but let her go.”

The unsub was a certifiable idiot. He threw the victim at me, I caught her in my free arm, keeping my gun locked on his head. I tried to reassure her, but I just held on until Hotch had sent Morgan in with the cuffs. After I holstered my weapon, I really hugged her. I shushed her as she fell apart. She had been held for four days, she smelled and could barely stand.

Watching her be loaded on to the back of the ambulance was like watching Vaughn’s isolated cot in the infirmary. I had been a witness to the end of the pain, but couldn’t fathom what these women had endured. We had to do better. Jason had stood next to me while the boxy vehicle pulled away.

“These are the days that I take out that projector. To remember to laugh. Someday soon, she’ll remember how to laugh. You did good today, Bethany.”

I nodded, watching the night descend on the crime scene. It was then I knew that I didn’t want to keep doing this alone.

“Where are you heading this time?” Hotch asked Jason as he locked his office for a week off.

“Cape Hatteras National Seashore.”

“You like the Outerbanks?” I asked.

“Piping Plovers, I’m going birding.” Jason kept it short, he was in a hurry to enjoy his vacation.

“Enjoy the lighthouse if you get the chance!” I called to him as he waved to us behind his back. It actually hurt to see him walk away so brusquely.

“The Bodie Island Lighthouse was erected in 1872.” The baby bird squawked.

“I know, I’ve been there.” I shrugged off the annoyance at the new kid. “I kind of have a thing for lighthouses.” I don’t know why I was admitting that, but it just came out. I shoved a hard candy into my mouth to stop myself from being too chatty.

“Does he take vacations a lot?” His meager voice was trying to be casual.

“Not really.” I thought about it. “But more often than Hotch.”

The next morning we got a case and they were letting the string bean into the field for it. It wasn’t far, just over to Roanoke. They had dubbed him the “Blue Ridge Strangler.” I said a silent prayer of gratitude that Jason was out of town for this one, he hated when they gave the unsubs catchy names.

I woke up a little out of sorts. I don’t know why I was being emotional, but it was frustrating. Going over the crime scene photos with Morgan was nauseating. They looked like me. Dark hair and eyes. Sure they were prettier, but I couldn’t help but feel even more “off”.

I let Hotch and the boys head to the active body retrieval. I stayed behind to start piecing together a profile. When I dug in my purse I found a new key chain in the shape of a lighthouse. There was no note. I jumped at the chance to escape. To run. I picked up my cell.

“Hotch, I am using that IOU from Haley’s last birthday. I will meet up with you back in Quantico.”

“Is everything alright?” He was concerned.

“Everything is fine, besides you have the genius on hand now. It will only be a couple days.”

“Okay, but Bets, call me, when you get there?”

“Deal. Square?”

“Square.”

I hung up and called for a rental car. I wasn’t stopping back home. The drive to North Carolina was a blur.

I knew that Jason hadn’t left me that key chain, but I wanted it to be from him so badly that I tricked myself into hoping. There is nothing more cruel than hope. I don’t even know what I was expecting to find when I arrived at the National Seashore. I walked the beach and trails for hours. After not finding him among the protected coves, I made my way to the lighthouse.

The salt in the air and the sting on my skin brought my Navy brain back to me. I wasn’t this pathetic love-struck girl who chases her crush by crossing state lines. But I was. Visitor hours were drawing to a close at the summit and yet I stared off as the sun set behind me.

“If I had been a younger man, I might have assumed you were here for me. But not after this, this view is the real heart-breaker, eh?” Jason’s voice brought the delusion crashing down around me.

“Some people don’t see age as a barrier, but as experience to cherish.” I called over the wind, defending my recklessness. He walked over to me, his face that of a concerned teacher. I had made an ass of myself. “But you don’t have to say it, I get it.”

“I’m sorry, Bethany. I am not someone you should be wasting your youth on.” He stood there, his hands moving constantly. “Honestly I am flattered and a little frustrated.” He smiled.

I laughed through my tears. He was being charming and it added to the bitter-sweetness. “What is frustrating you?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I had profiled you as a lesbian.” Admitting he had been half-wrong about me was probably the humblest thing he could have said in the moment. This esteemed mind acknowledging he didn’t know something, was as genuine an offering as I could have hoped for.

I shook my head, laughing again. “If only it was that easy.”

I dragged myself off the lighthouse and into the rental car. I found a run down motel and crashed for two days. I slept off the embarrassment and the disappointment. When I got back to headquarters I was recognizable again.

“Row? Where did you skip off to?” Morgan teased, ruffling my hair.

“Nun-ya. Nice work messing up your ankle though.”

“Right, right. But you left me with the kid. I mean he talked to the victim’s parents and everything!”

“Wow! Looks like he can ditch those water wings after all.” I teased.

“I can hear you.” Baby bird chirped.

“We know.” Morgan and I said in unison. I high fived him and he low fived me. Turns out, I was okay after all. I had my team. Who needed love anyway?

Next Chapter: The Last Case

@criminalwriting @dontshootmespence @cherry-loves-fanfic @imagicana @hotchnerfuckmeup @teatimewithtiya @dontcallmedad

[manawhaat]

Wild Bloom

Title: Wild Bloom

Characters: Reader x Clara (Reader’s best friend), Reader x John Winchester, Dean Winchester/ Clara x Dean. Mentions of Ellen and Bobby (Reader’s parents),  Lucifer and Sarah (Clara’s parents), Sam Winchester.  

Summary: The annual camping trip Y/n and her best friend, Clara, take every year is one for the books when they bring along a surprise gift to be opened on Y/n’s 21st birthday.

Prompt: Sophia for the 50 Toys In 50 Days Challenge by @justanothersaltandburn​.

Warnings: Mentions of F/F smut, oral, fingering, virgin!reader with experienced partners, flesh light, toy usage, kinky!reader, nudity.  

Word Count: 7.5k

A/n: I’m sorry that was a horrible summary and jfc, this is the fic that never ends! Sorry this was so fuckin’ late! Unbetad. Third person narration, which I don’t think I’ve ever done before. Thanks and lemme know what you think :) 

Y/n was wild and sweet. She’d been raised right by her mother, Ellen, and her father, Pastor Bobby Singer. It was a small town, Lawrence, but Kansas was in her blood; it was all she’d ever known. The eyes of the town watched as she grew, a perfect flower in her Father’s garden and an example of what a young woman should be.

But, no one’s really perfect...are they?

Y/n had a ‘dark side’- a part of her that she kept hidden away from everyone except her one best friend in this world, Clara. The two had been attached at the hip since birth, and while Y/n lived life by her parent’s rules, Clara gave in to the wild spark inside her. It didn’t come as a shock considering her father, Lucifer. No, he wasn’t the actual devil, though Lucifer’s name, bad boy attitude, and the mischievous gleam in his smile had most of Pastor Singer’s congregation staying clear of him and his daughter after his wife, Sarah, passed unexpectedly just after Clara’s fourth birthday.

Clara was a free spirit, fun-loving, and rebellious. She looked like a shining example of a young lady with her light green eyes, freckled skin, and golden blonde hair, but her looks deceived her. She followed no man’s rules and the defiance in her blood only seemed to make her father proud. Of course Ellen and Bobby weren’t keen on the name of their daughter’s best friend’s father, or of Clara’s rebellious edge, but the bond between the two was too strong to keep them apart.

It was now, nearing Y/n’s 21st birthday, the summer before transferring out of the community college and going off to *gasp* a non-religious college when Ellen and Bobby finally lifted the rules she’d lived by her whole life and released her into the wild to bloom as they knew she would.

Down by the lake, hours from nowhere, Clara and Y/n set up their camp. It was a tradition dating back to their short lived stint with the Girl Scouts when they were thirteen. This was three weeks of summer living in a camp all their own. This particular spot was the one they’d gone to their first summer after ditching the program and camping on their own, and it was Camp Freedom that hosted them once more.

When the camp was set and they’d settled in for the night, they shared stories and laughter from their sleeping bags, waking to the sounds of nature and sunlight heating the tent they were in.

“Lake?” Y/n asked with a grin when they’d finished breakfast.

“Hell yeah,” Clara replied, the two of them forgoing the bathing suits and walking down to the water’s edge with nothing on but sunshine and smiles.

Camp Freedom was truly that- clothing optional. The first time they’d stripped down in the summer sun, they were on the edge of sixteen. Clara had dared Y/n, and Y/n was too proud to back out. They’d seen each other nearly naked many times before; between gym class, pool parties, and sleepovers, full nudity wasn’t that far of a stretch out of her comfort zone. The following year, Camp Freedom officially became clothing optional and the two went a full two weeks without a stitch on. They’d even shared Y/n’s first kiss with a girl.

Clara had experience with both sexes while Y/n had only ever kissed two boys in her life- Tom in the second grade, and Will, the pitcher for their high school’s varsity baseball team during their short relationship junior year. The kiss between the two girls was languid, slow, and tender. It came from a place of understanding on Clara’s end and intrigue on Y/n’s. It never led to more than that, but it brought the two closer. They became comfortable enough to talk about every fantasy Y/n had.

Y/n’s dark side was one she kept hidden for good reason. Kinky fetishes and fantasies were the opposite of what a virgin like her should have had on her mind, yet she was fascinated. Her entire life she’d been told that premarital sex was a sin, but she never truly believed or felt it. It wasn’t off the table, but she’d preferred to wait until she found someone she could really enjoy it with. However, erotic novels, adult films, and exploring her sexuality by herself were ‘sins’ she indulged in often, and when the kiss between the two girls was said and done, their friendship took on a new life- one where they were open enough to share their personal experiences and discuss the sex toy collection they’d both secretly been wanting to start.

Clara had no difficulty meeting and experimenting with guys and gals or starting her toy collection. She often used her father’s credit card and was bluntly honest about what she was purchasing. It seemed a little odd to Y/n, but she also envied the amount of trust and honesty Clara and Lucifer shared, even now that Clara had a place of her own.  

Y/n’s collection started on her 17th birthday. Her first vibrator was modestly sized, but powerful- a secret gift from her best friend. Since then, their collections had grown on their trips out to the big cities, and Clara even surprised Y/n last year by signing them up for a subscription to a goodie box that shipped to her place every month- the two of them alternating months to claim the toy. This month's box had come in just in time and currently sat in the trunk of Y/n’s Jeep; it was deemed her birthday gift, only to be opened the night of her actual birthday.

Down by the lake the girls spent the day soaking in the sun and ridding themselves of the tanlines they’d earned in the first half of the year, remaining nude as they set out on their afternoon hike, cooked dinner, and slipped into their sleeping bags, waking up the next day to do it all again.

Soon, the morning of Y/n’s 21st birthday arrived. She was awoken by her best friend gently stroking her hair, back, and arms. When she fluttered her eyes open and met Clara’s, a sleepy smile spread across her lips.

“Happy birthday, sleeping beauty,” Clara cooed, leaning in and pressing her lips to Y/n’s.

They hadn’t kissed in nearly five years, but Clara’s lips and the soft swipe of her tongue over Y/n’s bottom lip had Y/n giving in and opening her mouth to her best friend, getting lost in a deep kiss that had her fully alert and wanting more when Clara finally pulled away.

“What was that for?” Y/n asked, totally blissed out.

“Just cause. You know you’re my best friend, and, I love you… I-I guess I just wanted to show you,” Clara blushed, tucking Y/n’s messy hair behind her ear and leaning in once more when Y/n smiled and sat up for another slow kiss. Their mouths molded together, releasing soft moans every minute or two until their lips were pink and swollen.

“Why’d we get up so early? We could have slept in a little more,” Y/n said as she stretched and followed Clara out of the tent and toward the water.

They both knew what they were in for when they exited the tent and were met with the first splashes of gold across the darkened sky. This early in the morning the water was always cool enough to bring goosebumps to their skin, make their lungs spasm and bodies tremble for those first few minutes, but after the initial shock, it was heaven.

“I don’t know. I just felt like it might be nice,” Clara shrugged, smiling when Y/n took her hand and gave it a small squeeze.

As the sun rose, they waded in, hand in hand, Y/n tugging them both down beneath the chilly surface with a mischievous smile on her lips. Their laughter and shrieks of joy rang out around the lake and into the wooded area past it, their bare skin glistening as the sun made it’s appearance in the sky and warmed the water.

Y/n’s breasts had come in their sophomore year of high school, something Clara had ardently expressed jealousy over until hers came in just last summer. She was a late bloomer, but had actually just gone up a cup size and swam over to her friend to boast, shimmying her chest with pride at the birthday girl before dissolving into a fit of laughter. Nothing in the world could wipe the smile off Y/n’s soft lips as they swam around and splashed at each other. She was bright and free. She was perfect. The pastor’s daughter had grown into a vixen, the curves of her body covered by the modest clothing her parents insisted she wore, but now she was bare, her skin caressed by the water she swam through, every inch dripping wet and untouched by anyone but herself.

Out in the wood past the lake, two men had stumbled upon the scene. The image of the two girls naked and care free had heat creeping up their necks and left them adjusting their positions in an effort to hide the growing bulges in their pants, but neither dared look away. They’d been dove hunting, but as Y/n and Clara moved toward each other, the hunters found a new way to occupy their time.

“Thanks for this. You’re right, it is nice,” Y/n said as she pulled Clara through the water and wrapped her arms around her waist, kissing her with a smile on her lips.

“I’m glad you like it.”

As the morning went on the two made their way from the water and settled into their camp. Nothing had changed between them, but for some reason neither of them could explain, their mouths came together time and time again. By the time the sun was setting, they were wrapped up in each, sufficiently lost in each other’s kiss and filled with a need that Y/n couldn’t quite satiate.

“I need more,” she whined softly, pressing herself into her friend’s hands.

“Are you sure?” Clara asked, breaking away long enough to have Y/n’s full attention.

“I can’t think of anyone else that I trust enough to have my first orgasm.”

“All that kinky shit you have and you still haven’t had one?” Clara teased, the two of them breaking into laughter.

“You know what I mean,” Y/n shook her head. “The first one with someone else…”

Clara looked over her best friend’s face, not finding an ounce of hesitation or uncertainty. When she was finally convinced, she whispered, “Okay,” and pressed a soft kiss to her friend’s lips before standing from the blanket they’d been lying on.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“To get your present,” Clara smirked, turning and running to the Jeep and retrieving the mystery box for the month. “Whatever it is, we’ll use it!” she declared, rushing back to her friend’s side.  

Y/n sat up on the blanket and took the box in her hands when Clara returned with it, the two of them eager to see what the night would have in store for them as Y/n opened the package.

“What the fuck is that?” she giggled upon opening it. Collecting the item, Y/n held up the blue silicone toy, turning it in her hand and examining it.

“Oh my god,” Clara laughed, shaking her head and taking the toy from her friend’s hands. “It’s a flesh light, Y/n.”

“That’s a flesh light? Why’s is blue?”

“It’s like, an anime thing?” Clara questioned aloud, collecting the card that came with the toy and reading about the inner design of the sleeve.

“Well, I guess we can’t use this tonight, can we?” Y/n laughed.

“Not unless there’s a dude into hentai around here,” Clara scoffed with a smile, dropping the toy back in the box and tossing the package into the tent. “We don’t need anything if you still want to-”

Y/n cut off her friend’s sentence before she could finish, pushing her hands around Clara’s back and pulling her close enough for their chests to heave against one another’s. “I just want you,” Y/n whispered against her friend’s lips, smiling a little when Clara pulled away and started peppering kisses down her neck and chest.

As the lovers fell asleep by the fire, bodies pressed together and smiles curling their lips, the men separated. They’d been watching since they’d found them that morning, and after watching the blonde bring her partner to her edge with her fingers and mouth, they both needed to find a release.

The next morning Y/n woke to Clara’s hair tickling her nose and a soft breeze blowing over her skin. She remembered the events of last night and smiled, knowing that she’d chosen the right person to share that first with. The sun was up, but it wasn’t too hot, yet, so she remained where she lay, holding her best friend in her arms until Clara woke naturally.

Their morning went by quickly and they had put on a full set of clothes and had their day bags packed for their trek around the lake and into the woods. There was a spot a couple of miles out that was heaven on earth, and they’d made it a point to take a photo there every year.

“Think we’ll make it back before dark?” Y/n asked.

“We always do.”

“Yeah, but we usually leave, like, at least two hours earlier than we did today,” Y/n said, pulling ahead of Clara as the entered the woods.

“I think we’ll be fine,” Clara replied.

“Ok, but if you’re wron- HOLY SHIT!” Y/n screeched, jumping away from the man she almost stepped on. At her shriek, Clara reached out and grabbed her, the two of them screaming and nearly falling over when two men jolted up from the ground, leaves spilling off their bodies and dirt on their hands and faces.

“Dean?!” Clara yelped.

“John?!” Y/n cried.

“What the fuck?!” Clara was at Dean’s side in two quick strides, punching his chest and shoving him away while Y/n doubled over and caught her breath.

“Hey, ow! Jesus!” Dean whined, holding Clara at arms’ length away.

“What the fuck are you and your dad just doing out here in the middle of the fucking woods not even in a tent or goddamn sleeping bags you little shit!” Clara yelled, still trying to get at the man four years her senior.

“Y/n? Clara? That’s you?” John grunted when he recognized the two of them, quickly reaching for Clara’s hands and catching a punch with his lip.

“Dude, stop!” Y/n quickly stepped in and grabbed her friend, pulling Clara back by her side to cool off before turning to the men before them.

John Winchester and his sons, Dean and Sam, had lived in Lawrence for as long as Y/n could remember. Sam was her age, she’d gone to school with him, and she’d seen John and the boys in church when she and Clara were younger. Clara, of course, had hooked up with Sam, the youngest Winchester just last summer when he was visiting from Stanford.

Standing there with the two men in front of her, Y/n was quickly distracted from the fact that she’d almost stepped on John’s face when that Winchester smile worked it’s way onto Dean’s mouth.

Dean was drop dead gorgeous, always had been, and given the way John looked, always would be. He was the charmer, the bad boy that every girl in town swooned over. Of course Y/n had been attracted to him when she was younger, and even now, but truth be told, it was always John whom she’d found herself lusting over. The age difference, the callouses on his weathered hands, the rasp in his voice, and the flecks of grey in his hair and beard were enough to make her melt every time she saw him, and here and now, she couldn’t deny the arousal that spiked through her when his dark eyes met hers.

“Sorry, girls. We didn’t mean to scare you. We’re hunting,” he started, pointing to their bag and rifles propped against a tree a few feet away. “Had one hell of an early start and stopped for a minute to rest my eyes. Guess we lost track of time, right, Dean?” John explained.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, cleared his throat and straightened up.

“Oh my God,” Y/n gasped when she registered the blood on John’s lip. Before she could stop herself she was by his side, both hands cupping his cheeks, tenderly wiping the blood away with her thumb. “Shit, Clara, see what you did?”

“Sorry, sir.” Clara winced, taking a step forward and offering him a tissue.

“No problem, sweetheart,” John smiled, shooting a wink down at Y/n. Her hands were still on him, she was still close, practically pressed into his chest, and she was quick to drop her hands and back up, cheeks red and feeling flustered when Clara cleared her throat.

“So, uhh, we’ve got Camp Freedom set up across the lake. I know you said you were hunting, but it was Y/n’s 21st birthday last night, and if you wanna join us today, you’d be more than welcome.”

The second the words were out of her mouth, Y/n froze, gaping at her friend while the Winchesters looked between each other and nodded back at Clara. “We’d love to,” Dean grinned at Clara, watching the way she pushed her chest out toward him when she smiled and took Y/n’s hand to lead them back to camp.

“What the fuck, dude?” Y/n whispered harshly as the four of them walked around the lake to camp.

“Um, hello? You’d fuck either of them and you know it. C’mon, 21...you’ve gotta lose it sometime,”  she winked.

As much as Y/n hated to admit it, her friend was right, and the day passed quickly with the Winchester’s company. They’d have time to take their annual picture another time, but now, Clara was walking back from the Jeep with a bag with a huge bow on it, smirking at Y/n when she pulled out the bottle of whiskey Clara had brought along as a second birthday gift.

Dinner was simple but delicious, and before anyone knew it, the buzz of liquor was strong in their blood. Clara was beyond just a little tipsy and Y/n and John just smirked at each other when Dean took her hand and the two of them slipped off to the lake, giggles filling the air before the sounds of distant splashing joined the crackle of the fire separating John and Y/n.

John was nice, he was being too nice, too polite. He was making small talk, but it got old fast, and as silence floated around them, John started looking at Y/n like he knew something she didn’t. She could see it in his eyes, that mischief, that spark that would make her feel alive, and soon she was itching for it, looking across the fire with the same intensity in her eyes.

“So, why’s this place called Camp Freedom?” he finally asked, voice low and rough. Y/n blushed a little, but decided that if she was going to enjoy her first time with anyone, John Winchester would be the man who’d do just that. She had no real reason to lie to him, so she didn’t.

After telling him the truth about the camp name and divulging a couple of details about her and Clara’s kiss, John bit back a wolfish grin, raising her another shot and watching as she swallowed it like a good girl.

Letting go of all of her inhibitions, Y/n stood and walked around the fire so she was in plain view when she reached for the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head. Slowly, she stripped, and when she was down to her skin, Y/n walked closer to John, took his hand in hers and made him stand.

“Fuck,” she thought to herself as she sized him up. He was huge now that he was right in front of her, and she ran her small hands over his chest and arms, circling and assessing him before pushing off his jacket, then flannel. John was quick to get the gist of it, and he stripped as well. By the time he pushed his boxers off his long legs, he was already hard, standing proud with a bead of precum at his tip.

Y/n reached out to touch him, running her hands down his chest and stomach, watching his muscles jump before she dropped to her knees and batted her eyes up at him, her small hand wrapping around his shaft and moving slowly.

“You’re just a kid.” John was trying to chastise himself, maybe stop the inevitable, but his voice came out as a moan that made Y/n smirk.

“I’m 21, John. I’m fully capable of making my own decisions.”

John didn’t need to be convinced of that, so he stood for her as she stroked his cock, pressed her pretty lips along the underside and licked at his tip. The way John reacted to Y/n’s touch made her swell with pride. This was her first time ever giving a blow job, and the fact that he was moaning and gripping her hair and rocking his hips into her mouth must have meant she was doing something right. Just when Y/n started getting into it, John pulled her from his dick with a wet pop. His strong arms hauled her up and he wrapped her legs around his hips. Her chest was pressed against his and he could feel how wet she was when he took a few steps and pressed her up against the side of her Jeep, grinding his hips into hers, gripping a handful of her juicy ass and marking her neck as his

“John,” she panted. “John, wait.”

At the tone in her voice, he pulled away, holding her in his arms and meeting her eyes to find the source of her objection. “Are you okay? What’s wrong, sweetheart? I-we can stop,” he rushed, easing her to her feet and stepping back.

Her hands reached out for him. “No, nothing’s wrong. I-I just...I’ve never done this before.” She managed to get it all out at once and watched as his face changed.

“I’m so sorry if I rushed you, Y/n. We don’t have to do anything, you want, okay? We can sit back down and-”

“I want to,” she cut him off. “I just needed you to know first.”

“Are you sure?”

Y/n nodded, a slow smile pulling at her lips when John collected her in his arms and backed her against the Jeep again.

“So no one’s ever been in this pussy?” John rumbled against her mouth, the weight of his words and mouth dragging along her lips and neck leaving her dizzier than the liquor in her blood. His calloused hand followed the curves of her body, down her side to push a thick finger between her soft thighs and feel what he’d be claiming as his own.

At a loss for words, all Y/n could do was shake her head and moan out his name when he circled her clit. “What have you done?” John asked, proud of the fact that he would be the Preacher’s daughter’s first.

“I have a few vibrators. Clara ate me out and fingered me yesterday,” she panted against his mouth.

“Mmmmmhh,” he hummed, “I saw.”

The words surprised her and Y/n pulled back enough to see John’s face. “Y-you what?”

John’s hands landed on her hips as he spoke. “Dean and I were hunting yesterday morning when we saw you two in the lake. Don’t take this the wrong way, but we saw it all. Fell asleep after watching her eat you out last night, then, this morning, well...you found us. We- I didn’t know it was you, though. I just thought it was a couple on a camping trip...”

Y/n wasn’t sure how she felt about John’s admission. Part of her felt like he’d somehow violated her privacy, but she and Clara were the ones naked in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t private land, and it was hunting season. Anyone could have seen them, so she figured it wasn’t so bad that it was John and Dean.

John watched her process what he’d said, and her response surprised him. “How’d we look?” Y/n looked John in the eye and was answered with a growl landing against her lips and his hands swallowing her thighs.

John had to have her. He’d been obsessing over Y/n since yesterday morning before he even knew it was her, and now here she was, legs wrapped around him with a wet, eager, untouched cunt just begging to be filled. He tried to get into the jeep, but the door was locked. She muttered something about keys between kisses, but he’d moved on, walking them to the tent and dropping her to her feet to unzip it and pull her inside.

Inside and pulled down to the ground, John took a moment to look her over. Y/n was fucking juicy, supple, ripe for the taking, dripping wet and delicious. She was the definition of perfection lying there beneath John, his hand rubbing between her legs as she blinked up at him, lids heavy and eyes focused. Her thumb traced along the scar on his cheek. She didn’t know the story behind it, but she made a mental note to ask later.

“Clara’s got condoms in her bag. The green one,” Y/n said, dazed as she stared at the scar, eyes moving to his lips, then up to John’s dark brown eyes.

“You sure? You guys are camping in the woods and it’s just the two of you.”

“She always has them. I’m sure,” Y/n nodded. Rolling off her, John dug through the bag and found them, quickly tearing open the foil and rolling it over his length before lining himself up at her entrance.

“Go slow,” she breathed, hands on his forearms and body shifting in anticipation.

Y/n was more anxious than she’d expected to be. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach as he pressed himself into her heat, a slight sting running along with the stretch of her walls around him. Every millimeter brought a new sensation, and her eyes fell shut as she let them overwhelm her. As gently as he could, he eased in, knowing she had a lot to adjust to, mentally and physically.

When their hips were flush and Y/n finally blinked open her eyes, she was met with John’s comforting eyes staring down at her, waiting for her go ahead to move. When he had it, he started a slow rhythm, checking with her every minute or two to see if she was still doing okay, slowly building and letting his lips and hands roam her body.

Before long, the pleasure was unreal; it had her so close, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to orgasm and she didn’t know why. John could see it on her face, in her eyes. She’d come close to the edge and was slowly but surely coming down, and he knew what it was that she needed.

“Clara wouldn’t happen to have lube, would she?”

“The brown package,” Y/n huffed, remembering seeing a small bottle in there that came with the fleshlight.

Slowly pulling out, Y/n let a small whine leave her lips at the emptiness she felt without his cock inside of her, and when John opened the box he let out a soft chuckle. “Why do you girls have a blue ass flesh light?”

Y/n quickly explained the box of the month with a smile on her mouth while he lubed himself. John smeared some over her entrance, and pressed back in. He rocked his hips, slow and gentle, not moving inside of her much. He stayed like that, kissing Y/n’s neck and chest, rubbing over her clit and watching as she grew needy, making her beg for him to move before he finally gave in. In no time at all, Y/n was back on the edge, moaning out his name for the world to hear and scratching at his back, cumming with his beard rasping against her neck. A grunt pulled deep from John’s chest when he fell over the edge with her, stilling inside to feel her aftershocks before pulling out and discarding the condom.

When her heart rate started to settle, Y/n was filled with a want- a need. She’d just given him her virginity, but Y/n didn’t know John, not really, and she didn’t know how to ask if he’d hold her for a bit while she came down.

Seeing the thought on her face, John smiled. “C’mere, pretty girl.” He reached out for her, pulling her into his chest and kissing her forehead.

Y/n fell asleep with John’s arms around her, his hands wandering over her back and arms and his lips pressing soft kisses to her face and hair. She’d done well for her first time, and John fell asleep with a smile on his face soon after her breaths became deep and even against his neck.

When morning came, Y/n was still sleeping in John’s arms. He was humming softly and heard shoes crunching on the dirt. The zipper of the tent opened slightly and he could see Clara’s eyes peeking through.  

“We’re in here. She’s asleep,” John whispered.

“O-oh. Okay. Umm-”

“Can you do me a favor? Take Dean back home? I’ll head out tonight, but it’s probably a good idea for us to talk, spend a little time together alone.” John’s proposal was accepted and Clara and Dean left him there with Y/n in his arms.

Y/n woke about an hour after her friend had left. John’s hands smoothed up and down her bare back, and when she tipped her head up to look at him, his mouth claimed hers. Pushing her body against his, it was obvious that she was hungry for more, and she only broke away to giggle out a ‘good morning’.

“Good morning to you, too,” John chuckled against her lips, adjusting his position before wrapping his arm around her again, holding her close as she held a focused gaze on his face.

“How’d this happen?” Y/n’s pointer finger came up to John’s cheek, tracing along the scar there.

Taking her hand in his, John pressed a kiss to her palm. “I was young, right outta the Marines- just before I met Mary- I was driving and spotted a guy beating up his girlfriend outside a gas station, so I pulled over to break it up and she coldcocked me from behind with a bottle. She wasn’t grateful at all.”

Y/n thought for a moment before asking, “Do you regret stopping to help her?”

John smiled a little. “No,” he shook his head. “I didn’t know she wouldn’t want the help when I pulled over. It easily could have been the opposite and I could have saved her. Either way, it was the right thing to do,” he explained.

At his answer, Y/n’s lips pulled into a slow smile and she leaned in to press her lips to the scar on his cheek, lips locking with his soon after. The hunger that she’d woken with was coming back full force, John could see it in her eyes as they darkened with lust by the second, and before she could even beg for it he was two fingers deep, nodding and encouraging her to cum for him.

“Be a good girl and let me see you.” Y/n couldn’t hold back, and she gripped him tight as she obeyed and soaked his digits, rocking and grinding her hips against his hand as she rode the wave down.

When he pulled his fingers from her sex, he licked one clean with a moan and offered her the other. Y/n was hesitant, but opened her mouth for him and sucked the digit clean, moaning at the way he crashed his mouth against hers immediately after. Kissing and pushing against each other, John’s hand went back to the crux of her legs to collect some arousal and bring it to his hardening length. She was stunning, burning hot and inspiring a whole new kind of passion within him while she sat watching him coat and stroke his cock with her juices through heavy lids.

“John?” Y/n asked, her hand joining his as he stroked his cock. She was blushing, but tore her eyes away from their hands on his shaft to ask, “C-can I watch you use the flesh light?”

John grinned. “So you’re an exhibitionist and a voyeur? A little much for a girl who was a virgin last night, isn’t it?”

She just blushed harder and bit her lower lip, sitting up and scooting back to watch as he grabbed the box to prep the toy. Never in his life did he think he’d be doing anything like this, especially not with the Pastor’s daughter, but, fuck, that’s what made it all so fuckin’ fun.

When the sleeve had been lubed and he was ready, Y/n leaned in and kissed him hard and rough, backing away with hunger in her eyes. Her hands moved over her body, one squeezing a breast and the other falling between her thighs as she watched John lower the toy over his head with a hiss. Y/n’s eyes were glued to his cock. She was fascinated with the way the toy swallowed him all the way down to the patch of dark hair surrounding his shaft. The way John’s face twisted at the feel of every groove and the twist in the middle of the toy had her keening, her hands groping at her own flesh as they watched each other pleasure themselves.

As her pace grew faster, so did John’s. The two of them entered into a race to the finish line, and it was a dead tie as they came together, Y/n on her fingers and John inside the blue toy. His cum squished out around him and the sight had Y/n moaning and abandoning the effort to work herself down, instead taking John’s cock in her hand to milk every drop she could from him. The action left John choking on his own voice as he fisted a hand into her hair and watched as she pulled the toy from his shaft and licked up the underside from base to tip, white cum and lube gathering on her pink tongue until she reached the top, swallowed, and leaned back in to kiss the tip.

Y/n was a woman obsessed, and at the time, she knew John would be the bar that all other men would have to live up to.  

“How long does it take you to get hard again?” Y/n’s voice was husky as she asked, stroked his shaft and took him in her mouth again. The answer to her question was only a matter of minutes with her eager ministrations.

When John was solid for her once more, Y/n fished a condom out of Clara’s bag and pushed him down beneath her, opening her thighs around his hips and settling herself down on his cock, savoring every inch as she went. It was deeper this way. It left her muscles clenched tight and her breath drawn in her lungs, mouth open and eyes shut as she swivelled her hips and moved.

John kept a steady stream of praises falling against her skin. Y/n’s walls squeezed around him every time he said, “Good girl,” and he couldn’t help but moan at the fact that that was her favorite. Y/n wasn’t used to working this hard for an orgasm, but it felt so good to be covered in sweat, to feel the heat burning in her thighs and the slick spreading out onto her lips as she slammed herself down on his thick cock time and time again.

When they’d both cum and cleaned up, they made their way out of the tent and spent the day lazing around the lake and campsite. When the afternoon sun started falling through the sky, they reluctantly dressed, and Clara pulled up in Y/n’s Jeep not too long later. Dinner was much less awkward than any of them thought it would be, and when the night drew late, John stood with a disinclined huff.

“Well, I should probably head out.”

“So soon?” Y/n asked.

“Huntin’ trip was supposed to end today. I’ll hike back to the truck, sleep there, and drive back in the morning.”

Looking between John and Clara, Y/n shook her head. “I’ll go with you. We can sleep in the truck and in the morning you can head home and Clara and I can take that hike we wanted to take yesterday. I’ll already be on that side of the lake, so it won’t be that far. I can meet her after you go,” Y/n counter offered. Clara and John considered and accepted Y/n’s offer, leaving her to quickly pack her backpack for the day tomorrow and head out with John.

The moon lit the way as Y/n and John walked around the lake and into the woods to find John’s truck. The journey took them about an hour, and when they finally approached the Sierra Grande gleaming in the moonlight, Y/n’s stomach clenched in arousal.

“Ya know,” Y/n cleared her throat, “I’ve always loved that truck. The Impala, too,” she added quickly, “but that truck...fuck, I’ve always thought it was so sexy.”

John grinned at her admission. “Really?”

“Mmmhhmm,” she nodded. “I hated it when you used to show up to church alone because I knew you’d be in it. With Sam and Dean I at least got a little relief. She’s gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but this,” Y/n gestured to the truck, smoothing her hand over the hood, “this is sex on wheels.  

“Sex on wheels, huh?” John regarded Y/n for a long moment, letting the tension build as he stared her down. “We can make that happen,” he rasped, closing the gap between them and stalking her lips with his.

Pressed against the grill, John’s hand slipped down between Y/n’s thighs, rubbing at her clit through her shorts before lifting her up onto the hood. Thank God Clara had so many fuckin’ condoms on her at all times, because the truck was the perfect height for him to slip right into Y/n and bring her to her edge, feeling her wet walls clamp around him like a vice as he fucked her orgasm straight into a second and third.

The sweat had yet to cool on their bodies when John had carried Y/n’s limp body to the bed of his truck. He had blankets in the cab and the two crawled into the bed and wrapped themselves in them, kissing and holding each other for one last night before the rays of early morning started beaming across their faces through the trees surrounding the truck.

“So, I just wanna thank you for the past couple of days. They were incredible, and I couldn’t have asked for anything better than what you gave me,” Y/n gushed, knowing that she might not get a chance to speak to him alone and so candidly anytime after they got back into town.

“No, thank you. You-you’re perfect,” John smiled, taking her in his arms once more and showing her with his kiss that he spoke nothing but the truth.

“Well,” she sighed, pulling back, “I want you to have this,” she grinned, bordering on a chuckle when she continued. “Think of me when you cum.” Y/n held the blue flesh light in her hand, outstretched toward John.

“You’re better than this thing will ever be,” he laughed as he took it. “Thank you,” he grinned, setting the toy in the cab beside and kissing her one last time. Y/n watched as he hopped into the truck, and drove off on the path that led him out of the woods, only turning to start her short trek out to meet Clara when the sound of the engine faded entirely.

Hiking alone through the trees, Y/n felt warm, safe, and happy. She knew she’d made the right choice about sharing her first orgasm with her best friend, and that the first man in her life ended up being so trustworthy, kind, and focused on pleasing her. There wasn’t a feeling that could beat the high she felt that morning as she made it to the spot where Clara would find her stark naked with sun in her hair and a smile on her face. The two would spend the day there, discussing their night with each Winchester, soaking up the sun, and taking their annual photo...and then some.

The rest of the trip was a blur of not enough time to drink it in, and the Sunday after they’d come back from Y/n’s life altering camping trip, the pair took their seats in a back pew for the services. Y/n’s going away party would be held outside on the lawn after church, but for now people were settling into their seats and flipping through their bibles. The room was more or less silent when Y/n heard the roar of an engine she’d know anywhere, and a moment later, her suspicions were confirmed when John walked into the church, spotted her, and took a seat beside her, the cover of the crowd hiding his hand as it landed high on her thigh, staying there the entire service.

When the service was done Y/n had managed to slip away from John’s hand and mingle with fellow church-goers, family and friends for the majority of the party. The sun had gone down by the time John made his way back to her side, and the cover of night hid her blush when her mom and dad came over to talk with him about Sam and Dean. John obliged and when Y/n’s parents left he smirked down at her.

“I’ve got something for you.”

“John, you really didn’t have to,” she smiled thankfully, taking the bag from him and blushing all over again when he winked in response. “Oh, I actually have something for you, too!” Y/n smiled, reaching into her bag and retrieving two envelopes. “One’s for you, the other’s for Dean. From Clara and I.” She grinned as she handed him the envelopes with their names written on them.

John didn’t know what was in them, but Y/n’s heart fluttered knowing that she’d just handed him the very nude, very pornographic photos she and her best friend had taken at their spot in the woods the morning after John left.

John saw the gleam in her eyes and hummed low in his throat, licking his lips and scratching through his scruffy beard. “If this is what I think it is, we’ll be cancelling the Skinemax Dean keeps saying he isn’t using.”

At that they both laughed, taking a step in and hugging each other before he leaned down and kissed her cheek close enough to her mouth that if anyone had seen them they both would have been in a world of hurt.

“Goodbye, Y/n,” he smiled as he pulled back.

“Goodbye, John,” she answered, watching as he disappeared through the crowd and into the night.

On Y/n’s last night in town, she and Clara sat across from each other on her bed, laughing and reliving old memories throughout their lives. It had gone by so fast, and a smile spread across Clara’s face as her eyes lit up.

“Did you ever open that gift John gave you?”

“Holy shit, I didn’t!” Y/n cried, jumping off the bed and running to retrieve it from the place she’d hidden it.

Sitting back down and untying the blue ribbon around the plain white box, Y/n’s cheeks warmed and core clenched at what she found inside.

“Well? What is it?” Clara asked, peeking over the lid.

In the box sat a blue dildo that was an exact replica of John, along with a note that simply read,

“Think of me when you cum.”

Just tagging a couple of John lovin’ folk off the top of my head since it’s 8am and I have to be at work at 9:30 and I haven’t slept at all. 

@crzcorgi @mypapawinchester @spnashley @mrswhozeewhatsis @kittenofdoomage @winchesterswoonathon @mamapeterson @zeneko1987 @thegreatficmaster

[pissedchicken]

shinee animal crossing au!!! onew - tropical town but its always raining? - black hair and sleepy eyes, only wears his wetsuit - has an area of just gyroids and when asked why he only uses the mischief emotion - likes to sit under the bus stop and listen to the rain - his house is next to the ocean!! has a little aquarium room - throws beans, especially at key when hes fishing or smth to annoy him lol - has already gotten a perfect town and finished the museum - loves his lil lazy chars like stitches hugh zucker - coco!!! his Goddess, leavez coconuts infront of her house as an offering, may be the reason for his gyroid collection? - he LOVES pietro, would die for him, found out he moved built a shrine until he stole him back from minho - has vladmir ironically - works EVERYDAY at the roost always has coffee on his character - too many axes jonghyun - u already kno he has sparkley anime eyes and pink hair - loves gracie grace dresses!!! w his tini crown or heart hair clip!! if he cant get her clothes hen he makes key buy them for him lmao but likes to support the able sisters - pastel fairytale town!!! wjulian bunnie chrissy puddles sprinkle renee n etoile n tia - always cries when one of his villagers move - he loves running through flowers but gts upset when he destroys them - bubble blowers and fairy wands!!! - always dresses in a rain coat when it rains - has a Big hybrid garden for pink flowers - his house tho has a dark aesthetic?? a Big Bathtub v monochromic - has a room just for roo who he made minho get for him bc it was just Not Working and he ran out of play coins - made characters for his mom and sister who also play in his town and they live right next to his house in a cute lil forest!! - seashell music boxes, letters to his villagers ALWAYS - sings along to all kappns songs and thinks tht him and his wife are the Best Couple Alive - refuses to pay tom nook and only upgrades his house every other year - goes to jinkis town to sit in the rain w him key!! - AESTHETIC IS K E Y modern/zen?? somehow it works - changes his hair and clothing everyday - makes his own paths and clothes, wants to believe gracie is his bff - likes snooty chars tho he gets offended when the snooty chars insult gracies fashion - ankha diana marshal naomi olvia n cherry - pretends to be mad tht rasher lives in his town but loves him bvvvvvv much - buys coffee everyday, never works - no ones sure how he makes money since all he does is buy things??? - themed rooms w the most expensive sets tho he likes to just hav furniture thr goes nicely together now - hacked his town so all his villagers live in a nice little neighborhood and he lives on an island - comme des n garcon also live in his house w him - perfect cherries n golden roses fit in here somehow minho - doesnt really hav a theme but his town is really nice anyway, early bird ordinance - only wears sports clothes n v messy hair all the time - likes to help all the villagers!!! no matter what it is!!! u want this!!! sure!! i should buy this for an unreasonable price!? for u of course i will!!! - yells whenever he catches a fish or a bug - soccer arena in his house w a built in gym - loves his jock villagers unconditionally - bam louie teddy n scoot r his go to pals - has ketchup and looks after her like his daughter - likes to invite unknown friends to the island to give them bells - maybe thats why key has so much money - plays mostly w jongyu - v competitive when they do island challenges - house is filled w pictures of his villagers - has an unreasonable amount of play coins bc he jogs with his ds - has a special room for keys designs bc he just wants to LOVE AND SUPPORT his best friend taemin - called his town fuck town - blonde messy hair has the moldy clothes after he tried playing on halloween n pnly wears those - he says his aesthetic is an "industrial shit show" - chops down all his trees and runs over all his flowers to "keep the bug fuckers out" - mostly dirt paths and industrial pwps - doesnt play alot so he has HUNDREDS of weeds but he never removes them - always buys from lief even if he knows hell never use the plants he just loves him, usually gives the plant starters to jjong or hoards them in his house - all his rooms r full of plants - sometimes he cant get in his house bc hes placed too many plants - got beans from jinki = bad idea - likes to hang out in jinkis town the most bc awsthetic n also he doesnt hav to worry about ruining things bc jinki is chill - brings jinki gyroids - sells things for unreasonably high prices at the recycle shop - doesnt even know the names of his villagers hes only got like two left lmao - he meets ketchup and his life mission changes to steal her from minho so he is Banded from minhos town - only visits the night club bc he loves making his mayor dance and he thinks kk is funny ("why the fuck is he naked lmao)