#fingers crossed amy gross comes back to voice her!!

[c0smiccom3t]

ok now that Nina is coming back...

WHOS READY FOR ME TO DRAW HER ???????

[ciggylungz]

Pray to me

word count. 4,077

Warnings-like probably the most risky smut i’ve ever written, church sex, wild stuff (sorry)

Pray to me:

(A random little smutty one shot relating to my bad boy harry series, it’s not going to affect the story line so just imagine this is another au for my au that’s an au. I just gave myself a stroke writing that.)

__

Detention.

A ‘punishment’ Harry Styles was used to getting by now, he was in his third year of Catholic high school and to say he has gotten his fair share of detention slips is a gross understatement. You’d think being surrounded by crosses would help subdue his cursing yet Harry didn’t seem to inherit the same fear his classmates did by the ‘word of god’ that was crammed down his throat every day. So, it wasn’t exactly tolerated when the boy strung a slew of curses together to describe the head Priest, or when he got caught smoking spliffs in the boys bathroom when he was supposed to be in math and well, those choices led him to where he is now. Slouched in a pew whilst the head nun was giving him a proper tongue lashing and explaining to him that he was to clean the chapel from top to bottom, smooth any creased pages in the 300 bibles that were stacked in the rows of pews, get any gum off the under side of them as well and wipe down the stain glass windows. The school had called his mum to tell her he would be home very late that day knowing the job would take a solid 4 or 5 hours to complete and that’s if he rushed it. To say he was pissed was putting it lightly, yet the biggest shock was yet to come when he heard the heavy wooden doors open and slam again as another person shuffled inside.

“Miss Yln, you’re here. Mister Styles here can tell you the duties you both must complete, here are the keys lock the doors when you both are finished. We’ll expect to meet with you before mass tomorrow to get a proper apology once the work if finished. Right-o, chop chop kids.”

The grouchy wrinkle faced nun thrust the keys into an anxious Y/n’s hands while she shuffled her way towards the exit, giving a careless slam of the 20 pound doors causing both Harry and Y/n to flinch. Harry was genuinely surprised to see Y/n there with him, he’s used to seeing her at mass or in line at confessional but detention? That was a new one for her. He took his time standing from his seat, cracking his back and neck whilst he settled onto his feet, casting a curious glance at the girl who stuck out like a sore thumb in the somber hostile environment. He knew Y/n well, he considers her a friend which is rare since he’s not the friendliest of people around town. Yet he liked Y/n, she was cute as button and what teenage boy doesn’t find an innocent girl wearing a catholic school uniform appealing?

“well well well miss sunshine, what did you do to get yourself this torment?” Harry gave her the quick once over, using his typical teasing nickname for the girl just to get her cheeks to blush a bit and help lighten the mood. Y/n blew out a breath out through her plump glossed lips, subconsciously stomping her foot a bit in annoyance which Harry thought was funny, and also cute. “I accidentally said a bad word in class! James tricked me into saying it and Sister Amy heard and gave me detention.” Her pout grew further when the boy chuckled at her attitude. “How did he trick yeh into saying somethin’?” Y/n grunted a bit, very peeved and mentally hexing James for what his actions caused her, “He said hold your tongue while you say apple…” Harry at this point was letting out a belly laugh, just imagining Y/n’s face when she realized she’d said asshole and finding humor in how ditzy she could be sometimes. “You fell for that? Did you not have a childhood? I thought everyone knew that trick, hon” Y/n simply smacked his arm and tossed the keys onto the nearest surface. “Shush Harry” her little finger pointed at him, trying to be serious but he found it comical. His hands moved out to poke her sides, knowing exactly how ticklish she was feeling content as Y/n squirmed and squealed. Adorable giggles falling from her lips and making the chapel seem a bit less creepy, her tiny hands trying to push his biceps back to free herself from his tickling fingers. “Ah! Harry!-“ she was trying to speak between her laughs, the boy one year her senior smiled, dimples sinking into the flesh of his cheeks, “Dunno what you expected, love. You thought you could tell me to shush?! no one tells me to do princess.” “Okay! Okay I’m sorry! I take it back!” after what seemed like an eternity to Y/n, but was only a few ticks over a minute Harry finally let go, smiling down at her while he ruffled her hair chuckling to himself while she tried to straighten her uniform back out. “That was not a fair fight Harry, you had an unfair weight AND height advantage!” y/n stuck her tongue out at him. “Hey, you started it bossy pants. You’re lucky I didn’t throw yeh over m’ shoulder and tossed yeh around. You got off easy this time missy.”

Harry wasn’t typically so playful and relaxed, he couldn’t bring himself to be so cold around Y/n. How could he? She’s sunshine personified, the real version of the rhyme ‘sugar, spice and everything nice’.  The girl was the only thing that kept him from dropping out. Y/n makes day to day bullshit tolerable for him…and well she also has given her inspiration more than once when he couldn’t sleep at night and resorted to a quick wank while mumbling of dirty phrases topped off with her name to send him off to dreamland.

 _______________________________

After some more shenanigans, the pair got to work on their scheduled tasks.  Y/n had started in the bibles in the first 6 pews on the right side of the chapel while Harry dug through a supply closet to get a ladder out to wipe the windows. He was contemplating if he should pretend to fall and collect an insurance claim instead of actually cleaning the 12-foot art pieces but he decided against it by the time he found what he was looking for. After setting the ladder up and grabbing the giant duster Harry decided to take his first break, he knew he was just procrastinating but who cares? He decided during his break he’d get Y/n to take one with him. “Hey love, wanna take a fiver?” Y/n looked up from the 12th bible she had fixed giving him a frantic nod, her mind numb from the task she was busy doing.

“what do yeh wanna do?” she left the choice up to the older boy, watching as he bit his lip lightly in thought, shrugging and scooting in next to her. “truth or dare?” he wiggled his eyebrows tempting her and being the compliant and very bored girl, she was, Y/n agreed.

“Okay you first Harry, truth or dare?” the boy pondered for a moment before shrugging, “Truth” he didn’t miss the way she was fidgeting with her skirt all excited for the game. “Ok, have you ever uhmmmm got drunk?” her innocence laced her tone, genuine curiosity. Her voice slightly lowered as if what she was asking was naughty which of course got Harry to chuckle, “Yes, pretty much every weekend. You’ve never drank? Not even once, love?” his left eyebrow raised and she timidly shrugged “Nope, I only had wine at communion but then it’s only a sip. Never been drunk before…Okay your turn!” he hummed slightly, “Truth or dare y/n?” “uhhh dare!” at this point she was squirming in her seat from her giddiness, and Harry took full opportunity over the chance he had. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Y/n wasn’t exactly expecting that one. She thought maybe he’d dare her to say another bad word or smoke one of his cigarettes, but he wanted her to kiss him…and she was confused on why she wanted to. She didn’t want to say no, she had the urge to follow through with it. The girl noticed the butterflies in her stomach she was used to getting when around her older friend, and a blush crawled up her neck to her cheeks. Harry sat with an amused smirk, darting his tongue out to lick over his lips whilst tipping his head to the side slightly, “cat got your tongue, love? What are yeh waiting for?” a pointer finger was placed under her chin to get her to look at him, and y/n decided it was better to bite the bullet and pushed her thoughts out of the way while quickly leaning in to give him a peck.

Harry was surprised she actually did it, feeling her lips on his for a split second before she pulled away with a shy giggle yet he was having none of that. “uh uh, a real kiss” his natural dominance reared it’s head when he grabbed the girl and plopped her on his lap, holding her jaw and planting his lips on her’s yet again coaxing her to move with him. When she didn’t respond how he wanted he tugged her hair a bit, biting her bottom lip and dragging it down so her mouth was pried open, “Being a tease y/n, keep your mouth open wanna taste ya’”

y/n’s head was swimming, she’d never done anything like this but her body went weak under Harry’s rough hold and demanding voice and so she complied opening her mouth so his tongue could infiltrate. She wasn’t really skilled in the kissing department; she’d only kissed one person before and it was nothing like this. Harry didn’t mind her clumsy, clueless movements he found it even hotter that she didn’t know what she was doing and he was the one cracking away at her purity. His heart was pumping, his fingers tangled in her hair as he tugged her by it to get her to move where he wanted her, it was hot. So fucking hot.

When he finally pulled away from the kiss he observed her. Plump lips now a flushed red, swollen and slick with her lingering lip gloss and their mixed spit. She was breathing heavily, eyes staring into his darkening ones. She looked amazing. “God…pet you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuckin’ do that” his tongue darted out to lick over his own lips frowning when he got a heavy taste of sticky lip-gloss , “gotta get this off yeh, it’s too sticky” his sleeve was pulled down to cover his palm whilst he rubbed the remaining product off her delicious lips before shuffling it back up to bunch at his elbows. “There, look a little dazed petal. Yeh alright?” Y/n nodded quickly at the question, smiling a little bit before kissing his nose and each of his cheeks then going back to his lips mimicking how he’d kissed her prior. The boy could hardly contain himself, taking over the kiss and pulling her hands off his face holding both her wrists in one of his hands yanking them above her head so she was completely bound. “No no no, little love. I make the rules hon, you don’t. I didn’t say to kiss me again did i? I didn’t say you could touch me, hmm? Being a bit naughty aren’t yeh baby?”

To say she was overwhelmed and a tad confused was accurate, she had really no experience in any sort of sexual situations all she knew is she was going to listen to Harry. His gaze was enough to melt her into submission. “Words Y/n, did I tell you to do those things?” his grip on her wrist tightened a bit, “No….no you didn’t tell me to…” his eyes were staring into hers a subtle hum exiting his throat. “Good girl, now tell me your sorry.” “I’m sorry, Harry” an adorable pout decorated her lips, Harry was loving this.

He let go of her hands, both of them falling into her lap where she folded them, making sure to follow the new rule of not touching without permission, waiting for what was going to happen next. Only a moment later did Y/n feel Harry’s right thumb pressing into her bottom lip, eyes jumping to meet his, “open” she complied, letting him slip his thumb past her lips to rest on her tongue, “Close, now suck.”

Her confused gaze met his stern one while she started suckling on his digit. She didn’t really understand why he wanted her to suck his thumb, regardless she did it.

It was taking everything in Harry to not bend the girl over and shove himself inside her, god he fucking wanted to but he had something else in mind. Something more sinful than two teenagers having premarital sex in a chapel, no he wanted to give the biggest ‘fuck you’ he could to the school, and the ‘god’ he was forced to submit to. He knew if all the preaching’s were true, this idea was his first-class ticket straight to the devil’s doorstep.

“Listen princess, you’re going to do what I say, okay?” Y/n gave a quick nod of her head, Harry scooting her off his lap and removing his thumb from her mouth as he guided her up the steps to of the pulpit where the priest usually gave his sermons, a holy pedestal of sorts but today it would get a new use.

“on your knees.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order. Harry stood in the center of the pulpit, the religious art work surrounding them did little to stop his ‘sinful’ desires. Desires of the flesh were the only thing on his mind.

Y/n was on her knees before him, looking up at her friend who had a smug sultry look on his beautiful face. His hands fumbled with his belt whilst he looked down at her.

“you’re going to pray to me now, angel.”

Y/n couldn’t believe she was really in this situation, kneeling under the podium in the pulpit where she hears sermons 5 days a week for 3 hours with Harry pulling his cock out. when he finally managed to get himself free a loud groan echoed in the sanctuary, one that made Y/n feel a tingle between her legs and salivate slightly. A strange new sensation she couldn’t describe, but she knew she liked it.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Y/n had never seen Harry’s eye’s look so dark, his tone so demanding and his breathing so heavy. His cock loomed over her face, bobbing slightly with every beat of his heart whilst something clear and sticky was leaking from the tiny slit in the top of it webbing onto the underside of his tip. She was nervous, but she did as she was told opening her sweet little mouth so the older boy could guide the crown of his cock into the warm cavern of her virgin mouth. The sensation was the closest thing to heavenly Harry had ever felt in this room, her mouth was warm and wet. Tongue slightly textured and slick with the nice, thick spit that comes from the back corners of your mouth. It’s better than any lube you can buy truly. He instructed her to suck his flesh, hollowing her cheeks and massaging his prick with the flesh of her mouth for the very first time in her life.

“Holy fucking shit, doll…you sure this is yeh first time? Good little cock sucker aren’t yeh? On your pretty knees, praying to me now huh?” Harry could see his cock pushing into the side of her cheek as she nodded, her mouth stuffed full of his leaking member, and because Harry was Harry and liked to really make a statement he decided if he was going to hell for this, he might as well make it worth it.

His fingers plucked one of the small wooden crosses off of the staircase on the pulpit, it was a decoration dedicated to Christ yet he had other plans for it.

The boy took a step back from Y/n, moaning slightly at the sight of her following after his cock when it started slipping from her lips. She wanted it, she liked it and god he fucking did too but he couldn’t wait any longer to execute the idea that just tumbled into his mind. Harry snapped his fingers in front of the drooly lipped girl, getting her attention on his eyes instead of the cock she wanted so desperately back in her mouth. “Up, don’t be greedy yeh can finish me off when I’m done with yeh..” Harry lifted the girl by her underarms up onto the flat part of the pedestal, where a bible was sat opened to a scripture that was suddenly smothered by the doe eyed girls round plump ass. Harry wishes he could dig his teeth into it but that’s for another time.

Y/n didn’t resist at all when he tipped her back a bit, hiking her skirt up and spreading her legs. The only reaction she gave at first was a quick gasp when he ripped her school tights right at the crotch her white cotton panties now in his view. “cute” was mumbled under his breath as he toyed with the tiny pink bow stitched into the waistband of her panties, but soon they were gone as well pushed fully to the side to expose her cunt, a small smattering of light curls at the apex of her thighs. They looked soft, light and quite cute. He could tell they’d never been shaven off before by how soft they were, wasn’t a very course or thick section of hair. That was likely to come later in her life, but for now her cunt was the only thing he was willing to worship in the holy home of Christ.

“Fuckin’ beautiful…got a real nice little pussy, angel.” Y/n was past the point of being shy now, she was spread eagle perched on top of a open bible with her cunt on full display in front of her half naked friend. Modesty flew out the door a while ago. And so, she responded in a little whine and shimmy of her hips, feeling the cold air lapping at her hot center and cooling the slick that had collected between her folds that she didn’t even notice till now.

The boy thought he might have been in the midst of one of his wet dreams, the stereotypical catholic school girl splayed out in a chapel with his hungry eyes staring at her virgin cunt. He was trying his hardest to take a mental picture so he can relive this the next time he has a wank, but in this moment his plan was coming to fruition.

Harry held up the small wooden cross, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger. The piece of religious art was about as wide around as a taper candle and maybe a good 4 inches from the base to where it met the divider of the cross. Much smaller than his cock, but a good size to fuck his classmate with.

“Open.” His voice doomed after the stretch of silence, Y/n letting her lips fall open again gurgling a bit as the wooden cross was thrust into her mouth. Harry was purposefully being rough, pushing her gag reflex intentionally, “Gag on it, get it nice and wet. Do as I say y/n, m’ getting’ yeh throat to slick it up. Could shove it in yeh dry be glad I’m lubing it up pet.” With a few more jabs at her uvula the boy was content with the amount of thick spit that dripped down the object.

Y/n couldn’t help but squirm and mewl, feeling Harry split her labia. An audible clicking sound fell on their ears from the wetness adhering the folds of skin together, the sound gave a boost to his already prominent smirk. Once her engorged clit came into view Harry made a point to give it a few strong strokes with his thumb before pressing the end of the cross into the girl’s virgin opening. The sight was nothing short of filthy, completely sinful. He wouldn’t be surprised if the floor caved in and they fell straight to hell as he finally managed to press through her thin hymen gaining entry to the untouched inners of the girl.

The stinging caused Y/n to hiss slightly, her legs quivering as he finally made it inside her. A small streak of her purity stood out against the white wood. Harry couldn’t help but snicker to himself, he thought of Virgin Mary in this moment. Ironic right? The first thought into his mind when seeing Y/n’s virginal blood striping a cross was how this was a strange twist on the story of the savior’s mother.

His movements sped up considerably after the flimsy membrane of resistance was punctured. The cross now being plunged in and out of the girl’s sacred spot in quick succession while she gripped the railing behind her in an effort not to tumble off the stand.

“Would yeh look at that, might be the first girl in this school to get fucked with a cross, baby. Always knew you were special huh?” Harry migrated his hand down to thumb at her clit, the foreign sensation of something inside of her and a massaging of her pleasure organ had the girl pigeon toed and panting. Harry swears he’s never seen anything hotter than what he was doing in this moment. His arm was getting tired but he didn’t dare fucking stop. No, he decided he was going to violate the artwork until Y/n had her first orgasm clamping onto the now not so holy figurine.

Y/n could barely form a thought, pleasure wracking through her body and a strange sensation building inside of her. Harry mumbling filth to her was the icing on the cake, her body tipping over the edge. Her body went stiff before breaking out into shakes, vocal cords strained from the moans and yelps escaping her throat. Her first ever orgasm was the most intense feeling she had ever felt, and Harry almost came just watching her suddenly remembering his abandoned cock.

Y/n was scrambling to regain control over her body, pushing Harry’s wrists away with a slick popping noise following as the cross was removed from her body. Harry leaned down to kiss the panting girl, dribbling spit into her open mouth while she gasped for air. “good girl, you’re such a good girl.” His ring clad fingers pet her cheek lightly, the other hand sitting her up and tugging her forward giving her a shove to get her back onto her knees.

“Now, time to finish your prayer, love” His hand pushed his cock back into the cavern of her mouth, she suckled hard on him. Tongue lapping at the underside of his cock, suction hard on the crown of him. The way she gave harsh spongy movements of her tongue and cheeks had his knees weak having to hold himself up on the podium. “Shit, Christ pet I’m gonna cum”.

Harry felt his climax rapidly approaching, taking both of his hands and putting them on the back of her head forcing the entirety of his cock down the girls sore throat. The muscles already tired from all the noise she made with it, but she only dug her fingers into his thighs as he spilled down her tight throat.

Harsh breathing along with Harry’s pleasured chuckle were the only noises filling the room as the pair removed themselves from each other. Harry getting his control back, putting his cock away before pulling Y/n to her feet giving her a few smacking kisses as he helped straighten her out tossing her ruined tights into the trashcan.

“Think we took more than a fiver babe, guess we gotta finish now huh?”

His smirk was wide while he put the cross right back in it’s place, cum still dripping off of it.

[femmeharringrove]

so niki has two dads. so what?

if you say anything about it, she'll kick you. and if principal kane wants to meet with her fathers, then so be it.

that only happens twice - first with steve, who walks in with sunglasses high on his face, a cup of coffee in hand, and a stance that makes the shorter man in front of him admittedly uncomfortable. niki is almost gleeful as she watches her dad stare blankly at the principal, then tug his glasses down to eye him more critically. not a word is spoken, there isn't a sound outside of the gentle swishing caused by niki's feet kicking back and forth. when the silence is broken, it's by steve, voice bored and uncaring.

"what's the problem, mister kane?" principal kane looks a little intimidated by the man in front of him - as he should be, niki knows.

"uh - well, uh, you see, nikita got in another fight again with a student, and -"

his words come to a halt when steve's hand comes up to stop them, the other hand perched comfortably on his hip. his head turns to face his daughter, and while his face is deadly serious she sees the sparkle in his eye and knows she's in no trouble here.

"nikita," he drawls, "did you get into a fight today?"

"yeah," she replies, without an ounce of remorse.

"do you want to tell me why?" he pushes, and she does, so she tells him.

"joey carter said that nobody wants to be my friend because i have two dads and that's wrong." joey is full of shit, as uncle dustin likes to say. she has plenty of friends, and all her friends love her papa and her dad. because steve always makes them the best snacks and takes them on all sorts of trips and takes the time to get to know the kids. and billy lets them do his makeup and carries them around the house while they squeal in delight. their parents might have been unsure at first, but steve and billy have made friends with most of niki's friends' parents. but the carters are gross people and their son is no exception as far as the eight-year-old is concerned.

"thank you," steve hums, before turning back to principal kane. the hand he'd held up to stop his talking lowers again and he places it on his other hip. "principal kane, where is joey?"

"why, he's in class," the ruddy man replies. steve's eyebrow arches in the way it does when papa says something dumb, or when niki tries hiding something from him.

"and why is that?" he presses. "are we just allowing students to verbally harass other students now?" principal kane gulps.

"well, you know how children are -"

"i do," steve cuts in sharply. "i'm raising one. do you know how long it took me to teach her not to say fuck because it's not a nice word?" nikita stifles a giggle at the offended look that crosses her principal's face. "picked it up from her aunt," steve continues. "kids just soak these things up, you know." steve pauses to sip on his coffee, hand raising to stop the man from speaking, and then he continues. "joey's parents are bigots, i know that very well, and i'm not surprised joey's picked up on it. but if nikita here said fuck in class, you'd reprimand her for foul language, yes?" he peers through his sunglasses while principal kane nods vigorously.

"of course we would." steve nods his approval.

"i take comfort in that." the glasses come off after that, and steve leans forward to meet the shorter man's gaze. "now, if one of your students says hateful comments towards another, would you do the same thing, mister kane?" niki grins at the way her principal shifts uncomfortably.

"I - I suppose, yes," he stammers.

"you suppose," steve repeats, mean and critical. "well, in that case, if you suppose, i suggest you get to calling the carters. nikita and i are going to leave you to it." principal kane tries speaking up, but steve's already got his sunglasses back on and he holds his hand out to the smaller brunette in the room. "let's go, honey. say goodbye to principal kane." nikita hops off the chair and waves a cheery goodbye before happily walking out with her hand in her dad's.

later that night, he's reading her a story and she snuggles against his side, enjoying the gentle brush of his fingers through her curly hair, and she can't help herself.

"hey, dad?" steve stops reading, sets the book down to look down at her.

"yes, baby?" and now nikita huffs, because she doesn't know what she wants to ask. they've talked about this before, both about gender and sex, and sexuality. she knows some people think something's wrong with her dads, but she doesn't hear it often. it shakes her a little when she does.

"why are people so mean?" she settles on. steve's face falters a little.

because there's no easy answer to that, is there? he and billy have been raising her for eight years, they've been together for five of those years and have only been open about it for three. they've been talking about getting married, about having one more kid together, about moving and settling somewhere new, but he knows no matter where they go or what they do there are always going to be instances like this, people like the carters and this kane asshole. and as much as he aches to protect his baby from that, he can't.

so he and billy have taught her the importance of kindness and understanding and respect. and at just eight, she has such an understanding of those concepts. she's absolutely brilliant, and beautiful, and more precious than steve will ever be able to put into words. he studies the face that peers up at him, brushes her bangs from her face, and holds her close so he can rest his chin on her head with a sigh.

"well, kita, sometimes people are scared," he tries. "remember when papa gave you seaweed that one time we went to california?" he doesn't have to be looking to know her entire face scrunches up in disgust.

"yeah, but that was gross," she points out, making the same face steve makes when he eats something he doesn't like, trying to get the taste off her tongue. steve laughs softly.

"to you and me, yeah, but not to papa. he grew up out there so he was already used to it, but for you and me it's scary. green stuff from the sea? icky, right?" nikita nods against his chest. "well, some people haven't seen gay people before, not like papa and i and our kid living like other families. and that's new and scary. and sometimes, when people get scared, they act a certain way." steve tries thinking for another example. "like when papa brought that beetle inside and scared me, remember that?"

nikita will never forget the way her dad scrambled over the couch trying to escape the bug. she'd laughed until the beetle took flight because that really was scary. the pair had screamed around the house and steve had absolutely refused all of billy's apologies the rest of the night, huffing and pouting while nikita giggled at the sight.

"you hit him," she recalls. it hadn't been hard, just a couple of swats on the shoulder while scolding the blonde man. steve nods.

"yeah, which was mean," he agrees. "but sometimes, people get mean when they're scared. obviously, something like having two dads or liking another guy or gal isn't the same as bringing in a beetle, it's much bigger than that. and when people get mean about the bigger things, it's more than just a little hit on the shoulder."

she gets that too, as much as she doesn't like it.

nikita sighs and wraps her little arms tight around steve's waist.

"i don't want people to be mean to you," she decides, and steve knows she loves him, of course he knows, but it warms his heart to hear a reminder of it.

"i know," he sighs. "but we can't make other people be kind. we can only be kind ourselves, yeah?" the girl nods and smiles up at her father.

"you're the most kindest" she announces, and then niki rests her head against his chest again. he doesn't start reading right away, but his voice sounds a little wobbly to her when he does.

the second time principal kane has to meet with one of her dads, it's over a father's day event in class and professor kane specifically requests billy instead of steve. he shows up a little greasy from work, looks from the principal to a mother and her son, to his teary-eyed little girl, and knows there's about to be trouble.

nikita doesn't know if it's hurt tears or angry tears, but misses hartwell's words sting and she can't get them out of her head. her son jeremy's words had hurt even more, and so a now ten-year-old nikita had punched him right in the face.

"something has to be done, mister hargrove," the principal says. amy hartwell scoffs.

"something indeed. we'll be pressing charges, that's what will be done." billy fixes her with a glare.

"you're gonna press charges against a kid?" he questions incredulously. "i know my girl, she doesn't do that unless he messed up big time."

"my son would never do any -" the woman begins, but nikita has no time for this. she doesn't want to sit here and listen to them act like jeremy is innocent.

"he said i can't bring my dad to school because i don't have one!" she snaps, and billy almost snaps too.

"well, it's true!" jeremy shoots back from the safety of his mother's side. "tell her, mom." now amy looks usure, and principal kane shifts uncomfortably as billy's cold glare flashes to the woman.

"yeah, tell her," he repeats, low and threatening. "better yet, tell me." amy shifts her weight and steps back.

"well, everyone in town knows her mother got pregnant in some indianapolis bar," she has the audacity to say. "the girl's never met her real father." nikita opens her mouth ready to protest and hurl insults, but billy speaks first.

"nikita doesn't have a mother," he growls. "her father gave birth to her, and i raised her. we're her dads, and she can have either of us at this little party, got it?"

"it's not healthy to feed her lies like that," amy argues, "you're poisoning her mind, it's dangerous -"

"- no," niki's dad cuts in. "what's dangerous is saying all of that within three feet of me. what's fucking dangerous is teaching your kid how to be as fucking disgusting as you."

"mister hargrove!" principal kane cuts in sharply. "i will not have you threatening misses hartwell like that!" billy turns on the man with an aggression nikita has never seen from her pa, a wild gleam in his glare and his lips set in a snarl. the principal shrinks back.

"what a time to grow a spine," he bites. "you've let her walk all over my boyfriend and i, i'll say whatever the hell i want." principal kane looks a little scared, backs down pretty quickly. but billy is on a roll. "i know how this works. you think steve and i don't know what assholes like you say behind our backs? huh? well, we do. and it's fucking ridiculous. steve has more balls than you-" an accusatory finger gets thrown in principal kane's face - "and more class than anyone in this stupid hick town is capable of. and you know what? i get it, we can't stop you from being ignorant dicks. but what i can do, and what i will do, is step in when someone brings this shit to my little girl. do you get that?" billy's yelling stops and both adults look at him wide-eyed with shock. jeremy looks scared, and niki thinks he should be. with a decisive nod, billy ends the conversation, he scoops niki up after that and she can feel him shaking as she hides in the safety of the crook of his neck. "you wanna sue us? sue us. we'll return the goddamn favor, trust me." and he stomps out to his car and just stands out there for a little while, clinging to nikita until she stops sniffling.

they don't really talk on the way home, and when they both enter the house steve looks a little confused.

"aren't you both supposed to be places?" he asks, but the little tease in his expression fades into worry as he gets a better look at them. billy leans in and kisses niki's forehead chaste and soft.

"go get changed," he mutters, which she knows is actually code for when he doesn't want her listening to their conversation. she obliges and disappears up the stairs she's known her whole life, right up to her room where she gets more comfortable clothes. she hears steve yell, "she what?" at some point, but mostly the pair are quiet. when nikita does tiptoe down the stairs eventually, they're in the kitchen, her papa's face buried against her dad's neck while they whisper to each other. it looks like billy's shaking again, but she can't tell.

steve catches her after a minute and kisses the top of billy's head before calling her over and holding her tight. "i'm sorry you had to deal with that stuff today," he offers, mumbled partially into her her hair. she remembers the things he said about mean people and clutches onto him a little tighter.

that night, aunt max and uncle dustin come by for dinner and take her out for ice cream, and when she comes home steve gives her a bubble bath with extra bubbles. she doesn't love letting him bathe her all the time, but sometimes it's fun, especially when he does extra bubbles. he finishes and dries her off and takes his time with her hair, and before long she's just about ready for bed.

her parents work her through the nightly routine, and they tuck her in to bed together like they do every night one of them isn't working late. but after steve plants his pattern of kisses on her face and leaves, billy stays. he sits on the edge of her bed and looks a little unsure, which is strange because as far as niki knows, he always knows what to do.

"honey," he starts. "you know what they said today isn't true, right?" nikita nods easily.

"yeah. dad's my dad and you're my pops." nikita knows, to some degree, how she came to be. she knows steve didn't have her with billy like that. but never once has she ever had to doubt her family, and no one's dared do it to her face. not before today.

"okay, good." billy nods, reaching a hand out and rubbing her shoulder. "people like misses hartwell and her kid, they don't - they don't get it. and i'm so sorry that you had to hear it, and that you had to hear me yell like that."

"and say all those words dad tells you not to?" she adds quietly. billy breathes out a laugh.

"and hear me say all those words dad tells me not to say," he agrees. it gets a laugh out of nikita, much to billy's relief, and he leans forward to hold her by both her shoulders now. "i'm serious, babycakes. i don't care what people like that say. you're my baby, you hear me? always mine."

"always yours," she echoes, leaning forward and throwing her arms around him in a hug. billy plants as many kisses as he can manage on her head and face, before laying her back down and adjusting her covers.

"i love you, green bean," he tells her, and she murmurs in kind before watching him move to the door. he pauses when he gets there, then turns to her sheepishly.

"hey, about the bad words," he hums. "i won't say anything about it to dad if you won't. deal?" nikita makes a thoughtful face.

"can i have ice cream and a kitten?" he snorts at that.

"you have several kittens, baby. but ice cream is doable."

and when amy hartwell knocks on the door the next afternoon talking about billy's offensive language, he only gets a claim of innocence from his boyfriend and a confused look from his daughter who doesn't recall a single bad word from the meeting. steve looks back at the woman and misses the grin nikita shares with billy as she chomps on a bite of ice cream.

[frostedfaves]

To Build A Home (6)

Masterlist

Pairing: Rosa Diaz x fem!reader

Summary: Rosa spent years building a friendship, relationship, and eventually a marriage and home with you. This tale follows your journey together up until her sudden murder. Now that you’ve tracked down her killer before anyone else, will you do the right thing and send him to prison or take care of him yourself?

Warnings: brief mentions of a bomb threat, robbery, and alcohol use, poorly written detective work, Jake and Amy ignored on their own wedding day (I’m still so sorry faves)

A/N: this part doesn’t feature as much Rosa and wife interaction as the previous parts because I needed to set the scene for something that will come back later ;) but I hope you still enjoy it! feedback appreciated as always

Previous chapter here

-

Your eyes roamed around the small store after passing the crime scene tape, assessing a surprising lack of damage for a robbery. You didn’t expect the place to be trashed, but there was barely a sign of a struggle or anything taken in a hurry.

“Hi there.”

You turned to face a white man in his possible fifties, at least from what you could tell with the graying strands of hair and incoming wrinkles around the eyes. A hint of a smile was directed your way as he stretched out his hand.

“You must be the detective the cops told me was coming. I’m Mark Collins, the owner of this place.”

“Detective Y/N Diaz,” you introduced yourself before pulling out of the handshake. “So you said you were robbed. What happened?”

He quickly explained to you the events that took place, starting with firing an employee the night before and leading into his return this afternoon.

“I had a feeling Thomas would retaliate and I would’ve been prepared for him, but my sister brought her daughter by this morning and they’re both terrified of guns, so I hid it in the back. I have a license for it, by the way,” he added when your brows raised at him.

“Do you mind if we take a look at your security footage?” 

You followed him into his office, watching as the same situation he described to you played out on camera. You sighed a bit when the armed man shouted his reason for taking the money, feeling that Mark owed it to him to help pay his rent since he didn’t give him time to find income elsewhere. Although you’ve felt the pain of suddenly losing your job before, it didn’t justify you or anyone taking money from someone else.

“Alright, I’m going to need a copy of that footage downloaded. I’ll come back for it later. I’m also going to need the address you have on file for Thomas so I can pay him a little visit.”

-

Twenty minutes later you pulled into a parking spot just down the block from the apartment building of your suspect. You’d just taken off your seatbelt after cutting the engine when your phone rang, a smile appearing on your features at the sight of your wife’s name and picture.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted cheerily as you locked the car doors again. “How’s the wedding day craziness going?”

“Even crazier than expected,” she told you with a sigh. “You’re not on your way yet, are you?”

“No, why?”

“Someone called in a bomb threat on the rec center, so that’s getting checked out while Jake, Amy and Charles try to figure out who did it. I’m waiting for Terry to call back the driver of the car that he left Amy’s veil in.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, so you weren’t kidding when you said ‘crazier than expected’.”

“I was not.” She chuckled along with you for a second. “So where are you?”

“I’m currently outside of where my suspect may or may not be. On the security footage you can hear him say he stole the money for rent since he doesn’t have a backup job but…” You let out a sigh of your own. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m giving him too much intelligence credit, but if I robbed the store I just got fired from, I wouldn’t go back to the address I gave my manager. Still going to give it a shot anyway.”

“Okay, well I won’t keep you on the phone much longer. Driver’s pulling up anyway. Be safe, and I love you.”

“Love you too, Rosa. See you later.”

You made your way up to the apartment quite easily as the lock on the secured door was broken. A knock went unanswered for several seconds. A second knock brought you face to face with a woman much younger than Mark.

“Detective Y/N Diaz,” you introduced yourself as you held up your badge for her to see. 

“Jessica Moore,” she offered. “What’s this about?”

“I’m looking for Thomas Moore. Is he here?”

“He was, but you just missed him by about an hour.” She shrugged. “Tommy was sleeping on the couch for a while because his girlfriend kicked him out. He was only gone maybe half an hour before he came back saying he was headed home, packed up his stuff and left.”

“Do you know where this girlfriend lives?”

“No, sorry. I don’t even know her name! Every time I ask about her, he just tells me I’m asking too many questions, as if he doesn’t try to interrogate every guy I’ve been on a date with,” she grumbled off to the side with her arms crossed.

“I know the feeling,” you told her and she turned back to you with a hopeful smile.

“You have brothers too?”

“Nope, just familiar with men and their double standards.” You pulled a business card from your jacket pocket and gave it to her. “Call me if he shows up, and thanks for your cooperation.”

-

After gathering all the evidence you needed from the crime scene, you’d arrived at the precinct just in time to see Holt cleaning up what used to be a cake version of the Nakatomi Plaza. You had your questions, but you simply saved them for a moment when you weren’t completely focused on your case. Every single moment of the day, every conversation that didn’t come from the computer where you were studying surveillance footage was ignored.

“Yep, Terry fumbled the task. But we got you a bouquet.”

Your ears couldn’t help but tune in at the sound of Rosa’s voice, this moment being the first time you’d heard her in a few hours. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from your work until her hands gently landed on your shoulders, effectively melting the tension from them.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You turned in your chair with a smile, which instantly fell as you caught sight of Amy in a wedding dress. “Please tell me I didn’t accidentally work through the wedding.”

“Jake, Amy, let’s go downstairs. It’s wedding time!” Charles addressed the pair with a proud grin and Rosa gave your shoulder a teasing nudge.

“Looks like you’re just in time. Come on.”

-

“But I do have some bad news. There’s a bomb at this wedding as well.”

“What?” The frown on Jake’s face matched yours, both of you confused by Amy’s calm demeanor.

“Your butt. Your butt is the bomb. There will be no survivors.”

“I love you so much. You’re my dream girl.”

Your laugh at the adorably childish pair was cut short when you realized Rosa was staring at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just missed you today.” She threw her right arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you in to lean against her and dropping a kiss on your hairline.

“I missed you too.” Your left hand grabbed hers, locking your fingers together in her lap, both of you smiling at the reciprocated skin-to-ring contact. Satisfied with the physical touch, you both turned your attention back to your nearly married best friends, brows raised as you watched a robot from the bomb squad bring the rings down the aisle.

-

You thanked Rosa as she placed two drinks on the table, sliding into the booth next to you and this time wrapping her left arm around you. You slipped your fingers through hers once more as they dangled over your shoulder, extending your thanks in the form of a quick kiss on the cheek.

“So how did it go earlier? I’m guessing by the way you were buried in your case that your suspect wasn’t stupid.”

“No, he wasn’t,” you sighed. “I found his sister, who told me that he’d left some time before I got there to go back home to his girlfriend. I can’t find any evidence of him having a girlfriend, but I have to wait until Monday to get a search warrant for the apartment. So I won’t know whether or not the sister was lying until then.”

“Well when you do find him, which I know you will, don’t forget to call me. I love watching my woman take down bad guys.” She winked and you laughed so hard you nearly snorted.

“What about you? How’d you end up with a shower curtain and flowers instead of a veil?” you asked after settling down, keeping your eyes on her as you sipped your drink.

“The customer after us knocked the dry cleaning bag out of the car when he left and we found it soaked in urine because, you know, New York streets are gross like that.” 

She shuddered, her look of disgust shifting into adoration when you held her glass and straw up to her lips. As you returned it to the table, you caught sight of Jake and Amy gazing at each other like no one else existed within the walls of the bar.

“I’m so happy for them. I can’t believe our best friends are married.”

“I can,” she responded as she shifted even closer to you, her eyes landing on the pair. “They’re the perfect example of the ‘opposites attract’ concept. They’re going to grow old together.”

“It’s funny that you say that, because they think the same thing about us.”

She turned back to you, that specially reserved smile back on her lips as she took in your appearance. Using the arm around you, she guided your own lips close enough to leave a kiss on them that was far too short for your liking. She settled back into the booth again and picked up her drink, her eyes never once leaving yours.

“Let’s prove them right, then.”

-

Tags: @gaulty74 @creepingwolfberry @rosadiazswifey @milkfromhell @xetherealbeautyx @jay-is-groovy @marie-03

[peraltasames]

in all your gorgeous colours

49. “Stop being so attractive!” 76. "I want to go home."

or, amy's in the hospital after minor surgery and goes through a wide spectrum of emotions while under the influence of pain meds.

read on ao3

Jake’s been pacing the waiting room of Brooklyn Methodist, no doubt disrupting the dozens of people silently sitting with his nervous energy, for about three hours straight when the doctor finally comes out.

She says a bunch of things about the surgery that Jake doesn’t understand but Holt is nodding attentively to right beside him, and finally finally gets to the “she’s okay, I expect her to make a full recovery” part of it. Jake is so relieved he nearly collapses, and Holt’s hand on his shoulder is the only thing keeping him upright.

“Mr. Peralta.” The doctor checks the clipboard as if to double-check that he’s really listed as her immediate family, to make sure that the man who had been holding her hand and harassing that very surgeon with questions and concerns as they wheeled Amy into the operating room is really her lawfully-wedded husband. “You can see her now, if you’d like. Visiting hours for non-family start at eight tomorrow.”

Jake turns to face Holt - and Rosa, who’s a few steps behind them. The rest of the squad had stayed behind at the precinct to await further information after Jake reported that it was just diverticulitis and she would be okay after routine surgery. Of course, they all knew that he would still be a mess - he’s sure his face when he left with her in the ambulance gave that away - so Holt and Rosa came shortly after, Holt providing logical and somewhat emotional reassurance and Rosa bringing him an NYPD hoodie from his locker to change into because he looked, to quote her exactly, “all sweaty and gross.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Rosa says with a rare, brief smile. “Let us know how she’s doing.”

“Yes, Peralta, please call if you need anything,” Holt adds.

“Thanks, guys,” Jake says, unable to smile in return until he sees his wife’s face again, but still mustering a small nod of appreciation. “I will.”

He follows the doctor to the elevator and through a winding hallway. He can’t help but replay the day’s events in his mind as he makes his way to her. He won’t soon forget the feeling of pure terror in his chest when he saw Amy collapse in front of everyone in the briefing room, nor the look of pain on her face as he raced to her and gently pulled her head into his lap while Terry called for an ambulance.

“You can go on in, she should still be awake but might be a bit out of it from the anesthesia.”

He’s so disoriented that he doesn’t realize they’ve arrived until the doctor speaks to him directly and he stops in his tracks and turns to face the door. She lets him in and then continues down the hallway, allowing him to finally be alone with his wife.

Amy’s a little pale and her hair’s a little messed up when he sees her lying awake in her bed, but she no longer seems to be in pain and that thought alone floods his system with relief. A glowing smile spreads across her face as soon as she spots him.

“Hi, babe,” Jake says tenderly, racing over to her bedside and gently cupping her cheek. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great,” she grins, leaning into his touch. “The doctors said I had diver - diverticlio-“

“Diverticulitis, babe.” He chuckles at her adorably puzzled expression. “Infection in your digestive tract. That’s what made your stomach hurt so bad.”

She grimaces in memory of the pain from earlier that day. She had a stomach ache since she woke up but had chalked it up to early period cramps or stress and denied his many pleas for her to go home early or let him take her to the hospital. It wasn’t until she was giving the afternoon briefing that the pain overcame her and she fainted in front of half the precinct.

“Doesn’t hurt anymore, though,” she says contently.

“Mhm, the nice doctors fixed you up and gave you lots of fun drugs.”

“Drugs are fun. I don’t know why we don’t just let people do them all the time,” she laments, and Jake can’t help but laugh.

“Ah, spoken like a true NYPD sergeant.”

Amy shifts a little bit and beckons him closer with her finger, her expression suddenly very serious.

“Are you okay?” he asks quickly, his brow furrowed. “Can I get you anything?”

She shakes her head, a smug grin spreading across her face.

“Nuh-uh. I want you, Peralta.”

Amy leans back against the pillows and does her best attempt at a sexy pose, and Jake has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Oh, he can’t wait to tell her about this tomorrow.

“I don’t know, babe, I think we might need to take a break from sexy times while you get better,” Jake says, making her frown in response. “We’re also in a very public place right now.”

Amy pouts and crosses her arms. Apparently Amy on morphine is mysteriously similar to four-drink Amy, and though he hopes he never has to see her in a situation like this again, he is definitely entertained.

Jake sits down next to her on the bed and gently brushes the hair away from her face, attempting to match her level of sincerity despite the strong urge to laugh at his loopy wife.

“Tell you what, as soon as you’re better we can have a whole day of sexy times. And we’ll do whatever you want. Sound good?”

She examines his face closely, her eyes narrowing, then lets out another huff and leans back into the bed again.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“Stop being so attractive!” she sighs dramatically. “It’s not fair.”

“Oh, honey,” Jake chuckles, a slight blush creeping on his cheeks. “You know I can’t help that.”

Amy nods like he’s just made a very compelling point, sighing again. “Yeah, I know.”

His heart swells as she grabs his hand hovering over her hair and presses it against her cheek, laying back and nuzzling into his palm. She lets out a small sigh of contentment, her momentary lust for him fading as the drugs begin to wear her down.

“You scared me today, Ames,” he admits when he’s not sure if she’s still awake. He knows these feelings can and probably should wait until she’s more lucid, but the immense relief of seeing her safe and comfortable is overwhelming.

She opens one eye and furrows her eyebrows. “How come?”

“Cause you fainted in the briefing room and we had to call an ambulance and I didn’t know how serious it was,” he rambles. “And I knew I should’ve forced you to see a doctor earlier-”

“Not your fault, babe.”

Jake sighs. “I know, it just sucked seeing you in pain. A lot.”

She slides her hand up to his forearm and squeezes, and her grip is weak but comforting nonetheless. She smiles at him softly, and it says more than she’s capable of articulating right now.

“I’m okay,” she assures him, adjusting her position slightly in an effort to get comfortable. “I want to go home. I miss my bed.”

“You’ve gotta stay here overnight so the doctors can keep an eye on you.”

“But I’ve gotta go home so I can get ready for work tomorrow-”

She’s cut off by a yawn, and Jake stands to pull the covers from her waist up to her shoulders to ensure she’s warm enough.

“You’re definitely not going to work for at least a few days,” he says, immediately met with another frown. Of course, Amy’s FOMOW persists even as she lays in a hospital bed. “Don’t worry, you’ll be nice and comfy here, and hopefully we can go home sometime tomorrow.”

She lets her eyes close again as she’s enveloped by the warmth of the hospital blankets and the reassurance of his words.

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Yeah, babe, of course.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Ames,” Jake murmurs, bending down to kiss her forehead. “You’re my wife.”

She smiles again as he kisses her and nods in agreement. “I like being your wife.”

“I like it too.”

He pecks her lips quickly, unable to resist her adorableness right now, and then pulls away to sit back down in the plastic chair at her bedside. He drags the chair as close to her bed as possible.

“You should sleep now, honey, I’ll try to save you some jello when the nurse comes around.”

“You should sleep too,” she mumbles, voice already getting heavier. “It’s nighttime.”

“I will, I just wanna watch you for a little longer.”

Amy’s asleep before she can reply, but she drifts off with a loving grin still lingering on her face and her head turned towards him.

He does take a few more minutes to admire every detail of her face before he finally gives in to the lure of sleep, knowing that she will be here when he wakes up and that she’s safe and comfortable and alive.

Jake grabs the extra blanket the nurse brought for him from the back of his chair and carefully drapes it over Amy to make sure she doesn’t catch a chill during the night.

Once he’s sure she’s properly tucked in, he lays his head down next to her on the mattress, takes her hand loosely in his and lets his eyes fall shut.

request a fic from this list! xx

[gemstoneconstellations]

When She Says Yes

Summary: Kirishima and Bakugo go shopping for a certain piece of jewelry

A/N: Happy Birthday to the shark boi! I had this planned for Kirishima’s birthday and used one of the deleted scenes from A Hero By Another Name (would you guys believe me that the posted version is the cut down version?) as an epilogue and prequel to Angel with a shotgun.

Wordcount: 1258

“Why do you two always ask me for help when it comes to this stuff?” Bakugo huffed, his hands deep in his pockets as he watched Kirishima press his face against a display window. His eyes bounced around to each shiny object that caught his eye.

Kirishima turned back to his grumpy friend with a big smile. “This is different, bro; this needs to be perfect.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes and yanked the redhead by the back of his collar, pulling him into the store. “Yeah, yeah, I heard you at the last four stores. Let’s hurry up, I’m fucking starving.” They’d been at this all morning; just when he thought they were close to being done and Kirishima was finally going to make a decision, something always came up. 

As they crossed the threshold, an attendant instantly zeroed in on them, prepped with a salesman’s smile from behind the display case. “Good afternoon sirs, how may I help you?” His peppy voice boomed as the two men stepped over.

“Well you see… I’m looking for… uh, you know…” Despite this not being the first time talking to a salesmen today, Kirishima still became flustered, clearing his throat a few times as he tried to find the right words. Kirishima leaned over the counter to whisper, his ears so red they blended in with his hair. “A ring.” But he said it so quietly that the attendant didn’t hear him.

Bakugo rolled his eyes and slammed a hand down on the counter to get the confused clerk’s attention. “We are looking for an engagement ring, and before you congratulate us, no we are not a fucking couple. It’s for this moron’s stupid girlfriend. He wants the centerpiece to be something red like his fucking hair. Oh, and it needs to be made of a material that can only be destroyed if you throw it into the middle of a god-damn volcano.”

“Uh…yes, we… I’ll gather some samples for you.” The poor clerk couldn’t walk away fast enough.

Kirishima crossed his arms at Bakugo. who leaned against the display, tapping impatiently on the glass. “Don’t fucking look at me like that. This shit is stupid and you are thinking too damn hard about it. If I let you handle it, we’ll be here forever.”

He didn’t have an opportunity to reprimand Bakugo about his attitude, even though what he said was true. The clerk came back with sample band designs, all of them able to withstand someone with a fire quirk. Thanks to the chief and Ami, he had been able to find out your ring size, as well as the ring style you would like without you ever finding out. After twenty minutes of standing there, having tray after tray coming out, only to be sent back, his eyes landed on one in the top right corner. The ring had a red amethyst as its centerpiece, a color that Kirishima felt went much better with your skin, Picking up the delicate band with a grin on his face, he turned to a yawning Bakugo. “This is it. It’s perfect.”

“Great! Lets pack it up and get the fuck out!” Bakugo dusted off his hands and stomped right out of the store. Kirishima could only laugh nervously while looking at the clerk, he signed off paperwork and paid. 

Kirishima quickly ran after Bakugo, who already had his heart set on a burger joint. He silently cheered in his head at the smell of greasy burgers. They sat in the back of the restaurant, hidden away in a corner to avoid being recognized. It was silent as they ate; Kirishima couldn’t help but let his mind wander into all sorts of “what ifs”. “What if she says no?”

“Do I need to fucking punch you again? Cause I will. I will beat those fucking insecurities out of your dumbass head.” Bakugo slammed a fist on the table and reached over to jab a finger into Kirishima’s chest, not caring if someone heard him. He was ready to fucking yell after today.

But Kirishima yielded, holding up his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay.”

It was silent again as they continued to eat, nearly done. “So if she says yes—

FUCK!” 

Bakugo kicked Kirishima under the table as hard as he could while sitting down. Kirishima sighed, understanding what Bakugo was doing, and rephrased his sentence. “After she says yes, would you be my best man?”

Bakugo scoffed as he stole a fry from Kirishima’s tray. “Of course, I’m the reason why the two of you pining dipshits even got together. Just don’t get lost out there without me.”

The two of you were finally doing that hike to Mt. Fuji like promised so long ago. It felt like forever since that first camping trip. The three of you had since gone camping together more and sometimes the rest of the Bakusquad would even come. But this is the first time the two of you will be going alone, with no one else to get between you and what Kirishima had planned. He tapped the pocket that held the precious velvet box. “We are doing the low level hike. Best views of Mt. Fuji without breaking a sweat.”

“Weak, that’s for kids and the fucking elderly.” Bakugo frowned at the weird look that was forming on Kirishima’s face. It was like he was staring off into space and the deeper he went, the more disgusting his grin became. He had a feeling that the redhead was think of something barf worthy, but he still asked. “What?”

“Just thinking that maybe we can take our kids there in the future, to the camping grounds.” Kirishima sighed happily, imagining taking his son or daughter to Mt. Fuji or on a camping trip and pointing to the great mountain, telling them that that’s where their father declared his love for their mother and asked her to be his wife. You, becoming his wife…Kirishima ___ has a nice ring to it.

Bakugo grimaced; his gut had been right and he felt like barfing now. He aggressively slurped down his soda before speaking. “Ugh gross, don’t get fucking sappy on me. I don’t want to think about you…spawning.” Food gone, they stood up and threw away their trash before heading out.

Ignoring the fake gagging sounds, Kirishima decided to tease him a bit. “Hey, when we have kids, will they call you Uncle Kats? Uncle Suki? Katsuki is too hard for small kids to say.” 

“I’m an only child dumbass. I won’t be a fucking uncle.”

Throwing an arm around his bro, he continued to tease. “Hmm, maybe Uncle Kacchan.”

The blonde stopped in his tracks, pushing off Kirishima’s arm as he glared dangerously. “Say that shit again, and you won’t be able to father any mini-sharks.” Bakugo tried to speed walk away from Kirishima. “The day I’m called Uncle anything will be the same day I’ll be nice to fucking Deku.”

Kirishima jogged lightly beside him. “You’re just jealous cause you haven’t fallen in love yet.”

“Gross, like I’d ever do something like that.”

Throwing his arm back over his best friend and poking at the wrinkle between his brows with his finger, Kirishima let out a deep belly laugh. “Haha, we’ll see. You’ll meet someone and then you’re going to need my help. Don’t worry, I got your back bro. Also, I could be Uncle Ei to your kids.”

“Idiot. Why are we even friends?” He said that, but he couldn't help but smile for said happy idiot.

[macandcheeseperalta]

superheroes and sidekicks

(I first shared this over on AO3 but wanted to post it here for others to see! Enjoy!)

//

“Come on, Auntie RoRo!” Mac practically dragged his aunt down the hallway with all the might of a four year old. “Mommy and Daddy are waiting!”

Rosa smirked, not rushing with Mac and remembering Jake saying that there was no rush for them to get here. “We can’t run in hospitals, dude.”

“Says who?” He eventually stopped in his tracks to face Rosa. She watched his eyebrows furrow through his mop of curls. His nose scrunched up, wanting to see what weird answer his tía would pull out to fool him this time.

“The doctors and nurses, that’s who,” She retorted before ruffling his head. Standing up, Rosa held out her hand for him. He folded his arms and looked up to the ceiling, eyes closed.

“What now, Mac?”

“I’m a big kid. I don’t have to hold your hand.”

She rolled her eyes. There was no doubt that this kid was Jake’s, echoing every weird quirk and defiance of his father. Amy always said she was raising another Jake, despite her best efforts to sprinkle some orderly Santiago in him. They all hoped that this next baby would live up a bit more to the Santiago part of their surname. But in Amy’s words, they would love them no matter what.

“I guess someone doesn’t want to see their new baby brother or sister...” Rosa shrugged and turned around, beginning her slow walk to the exit.

Mac, noticing that this could mean no new little brother, ran back to his aunt. His hand grabbed on while pulling her back. “No! I wanna see him! I wanna see my brother!”

“You’re gonna listen then?”

“Yes, Auntie RoRo, I promise,” He held up his opposite pinky, “Pinky promise.”

“And you know pinky promises are serious right?”

“Yes ma’am!” Mac gave a wide toothy smile, one Rosa couldn’t resist smiling back at.

Her pinky locked with his, sealing the promise with their thumbs reaching up to touch each other. “And you promise you’re gonna be the best big brother ever?”

“Double pinky promise!”

“Even if your mom has a little sister and not a little brother.”

He bit his lip. “Maybe...”

“Mac...”

“But Auntie RoRo, girls are gross ! Jack from school says they have cooties!”

“I’m a girl. Does that mean I have cooties?” She raised her eyebrows at his statement. “I guess that means I’m gross too huh?”

“Nooo!” Mac giggled as Rosa led them down the hallway towards Amy’s room. “You’re Auntie RoRo. You can’t have cooties. You’re cool.”

“What does that mean?” She laughed.

Skipping now, Mac shrugged. “I dunno. Daddy just says you’re cool.”

It wasn’t long before the pair were outside Amy’s door. Rosa looked down at Mac, dawned in the light blue shirt saying “big brother” in white letters. She passed him the red and white superhero cape. Before leaving the apartment to go to the hospital with Rosa, he picked out a cape to wear and a spare for his newest sibling, convinced that the newest addition would be his little brother.

This time around, Amy and Jake decided to keep the gender a surprise for the rest of the world. Not even the littlest member of their family knew if they would get a little brother or sister. He was alongside the rest of the world, on the edge of his seat to find out what the baby would be. Mac’s heart was always set on the baby being a boy though, planning all of the superhero games they would play, who would be the hero and the sidekick, and who would get which toy cars.

“You ready to see them, Mac? Once we go through this door, you’re gonna officially be a big brother.”

The same toothy grin returned while he nodded excessively. “Yes! Yes! Let me in!”

Rosa chuckled before cracking the door open to greet the parents first. “You guys have a little visitor, if you’re ready?”

Amy nodded, her biggest smile beaming, as Jake stood in front of the bassinet to hide the little one. “Let him loose, Auntie RoRo.”

She opened the door wide open as Mac walked in, soon sprinting upon seeing his mom on the bed. “Mommy!”

“Mac Attack!” Pulling him into her arms, Amy smothered him with kisses, holding her first baby tight. Their embrace soon broke as she just took in every detail of her oldest. He wasn’t a baby anymore. He was now a protective big brother, grown up in more ways than one.

His eyes darted around before landing on Jake. You could see him begin to slow down and be gentle as he pointed to the thing behind his dad. “Is that the baby?”

“Yeah, you want to hold them?” She whispered back at his soft response. He leaned back against Amy as Jake walked over with the baby, bouncing them in his arms.

Looking down at the baby and back up at Mac and Amy, Jake’s eyes filled with love for this little family he and his wife created over the last four years. Neither of them thought this was possible when they first started trying. He will never forget Amy’s heartbreaking words about being bad at making babies, but he always knew that wasn’t the case. There were two pieces of beautiful proof that she was far from bad at making babies.

After all, their kids were liquid fire in every single way possible.

Jake joined them on the bed, snuggling into Amy’s side and adjusting the baby to rest in his son’s arms. “Mac, meet your baby sister, Lucy.”

“Sister?!” Mac frowned, looking back at both of his parents in disgust. “I didn’t want a sister! I wanted a brother!”

“Well, this is what we have, baby. Lucy’s going to come live with us.” Amy tried to mend the situation. Though this was the last thing she wanted to deal with today, she knew that there was no other option but to talk to Mac.

“No! I don’t want her! I want a brother!” Mac raised his voice, starting to wake up the sleeping baby as Jake pulled back their baby girl from him.

“Mac, inside voice. We’re at the--”

“NO!” His yells slowly turned into a full-on tantrum. Red spread across his face while he clenched his fists. “NO! NO! NO! I don’t want her!”

This was the turning point for the baby too. Lucy joined in her brother’s wails, trying to get out of the swaddle. Jake then stood up, giving a helpless look to his wife as she tried to console their son with a hug.

He tried to give Lucy a binky in hopes that would temporarily mend the situation. But to his dismay, she fought it. Jake’s eyes met Amy’s, both echoing the same sense of helplessness. He added a sigh while bouncing the screaming baby. “Well, this could’ve gone a lot worse.”

//

“Mommy, make Lu stop crying.” Mac spoke up from his respective place at the dining table as he colored a picture for his Grandpa Raymond.

It had only been a week since they brought Lucy home. And all four of them agreed that it felt more like a month than a week. Mac continued to refuse to believe that Lucy was really his sister, and tried on multiple occasions to get rid of her as soon as possible.

Amy gave a deep sigh from the kitchen nook, her daughter’s body against her shoulder and screaming. “Mac--”

“Oh, I forgot the magic word! Mommy, please make Lulu stop crying.” He smiled in hopes that the magic word would do its job and the baby would stop.

Despite her exhaustion, she still managed to laugh at her son’s antics. “I wish it would work that way... Buddy, could you go to my room and get her binky from the bassinet?”

“Binkies don’t belong in this house. You said so.” He went back to coloring, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

Amy sighed before sitting down at the table with him and adjusting Lucy into a more comfortable position. “Mac, I don’t want to play games today. Please be my big helper and go grab your sister’s binky.”

“No, I wanna color.” Mac whined as his focus remained on the picture.

“McClane Jacob, please just listen.” Her hand reached over and was put on top of his picture in an attempt to gain his full attention. There were no words to describe how tired and exhausted she was. And having Mac acting up like this was not helping her case.

“No!”

“Mac,” Amy’s finger pulled his chin up so her eyes met his. “I’m going to give you two choices. We can either listen and do what Mommy asked, or we can go in time-out. What would you like to do?”

He quickly turned his face away with a scowl spread across it. “I don’t wanna listen. I wanna color.”

“So I guess we’re gonna do time-out then, huh?” No response came from her son, causing Amy to stand up and put the baby down in her swing in the living room. “Mac, you have until the count of three to stop coloring before we’re gonna have a talk with Daddy when he gets home from work.”

Mac kept silent and focused. Amy sighed and held up her pointer finger.

“Mac, one.”

Nothing. She added a finger.

“Two.”

“But Mommy--”

“Two and a half.” Amy held off on saying three, believing her son could make a good choice in just seconds.

Watching her gut instinct become reality, Mac got off the seat and marched down to Jake and Amy’s room. He returned moments later with the matte pink binky before throwing it across the room with eyes full of angry tears.

She furrowed her eyebrows before picking up the binky and walking over to pick her son up. “McClane, that was not a good choice. I think you need to go in time-out for a little bit.”

“No!” He yelled, battling to be louder than his screaming baby sister. “I want Daddy!”

It would be 30 minutes later when Jake walked through the door to find a crying Amy sitting cross-legged on the couch with a sleeping Lucy in her lap. He hated that she had to be left alone with the two kids. She was left on the frontlines for too many hours as she battled both kids to sleep, to eat, to stop crying, and much more. Amy was definitely a superhero but now breaking under the pressure of it all.

“Rough day?” He hung up his messenger bag before inching towards the couch to join his wife.

She took a deep breath, leaning into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. Jake was her rock in moments like this. When she was at her end and not sure what to do next, he swooped in and brought peace. Not one that solved everything, making her kids happy, perfect, not-always-crying angels, but bringing hope to a situation that seemed so dark.

“Way too rough.” A sniffle escaped her nose. “Lu just won’t stop crying and Mac refuses to help and... I just suck at this.”

“No, don’t say that.” His head rested against hers. “It was just one bad day. One bad day doesn’t mean you suck at this.”

Both sat in the silence, soaking in the momentary quiet as their newborn slept. They allowed the emotions to simply be. He wanted her to be able to feel this, but wanted her to also know that she wasn’t doing this all alone. She just wanted him to be her rock at that moment. He was her anchor in every storm, keeping her stable and in place despite what might come next.

“What can I do to help you?” He finally broke the silence.

“Can you check on Mac?” She took a deep breath. “He wasn’t being helpful earlier. Threw Lu’s binky across the room.”

“I can definitely do that.” Jake pressed a long kiss to her forehead before standing up. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Jake later knocked at Mac’s bedroom door, leaning against the wall beside it’s frame. “Mac Attack, can I come in?”

“Yeah...” He heard the quiet response and opened the door to find a clean room and his son curled up on his big boy bed. “You’re room’s really clean, bud. Mommy would be really proud.”

Mac looked up, nodding. “Mommy got mad at me when you were at work.”

Jake joined him on the bed while pulling him into his lap. “Yeah, she told me about that. What happened?”

“I wanted to color and she wanted me to grab the baby’s binky. But I wanted to color so I didn’t. And then she counted to three and I got scared so I got it.”

“Then?”

“I threw it at her.”

The dad sighed, watching Mac play with the car in his lap. “Why did you throw it?”

Mac only shrugged.

“Were you mad?”

“Yeah..” Mac whispered. “I just wanted to color with Mommy. But she was too busy with the baby.”

Jake nodded, kissing the top of his son’s head and turning him to face him. “Mac, bud, do you wanna know a secret?”

He watched Mac’s eyes widen while nodding. “Yeah! Tell me!”

“But you gotta keep it a secret. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Looking around, Jake leaned in to be just in earshot of Mac. “Your mommy is a superhero.”

“No, she isn’t! Mommy’s just Mommy!”

“How do you know?”

“Because superhero’s wear capes and go and protect the world from bad guys! Mommy doesn’t do that anymore. She just holds Lulu all day.”

“You sure? Because I’ve seen Mommy do some really cool things.”

“Like what?” Mac crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” Jake looked up at the ceiling, counting off all the things that make his wife a superhero. “Mommy wakes up super early to make all of us breakfast, she washes our clothes, and she takes really good care of you and Lucy when I’m at work.”

Mac cocked his head, questioning his father, “Superheroes do that too?”

“Of course! Mommy kicks bad guys’ butts but she also has to keep you and Lucy safe and happy.” Jake paused, “But here’s the thing. Superheroes need sidekicks, right? Well, Mommy needs a sidekick. Someone that is a big kid, that can help Mommy when she needs it, that can help keep all the bad guys away--”

“I can do that!” Mac hollered, “I’m a big kid! I have a cape!”

He laughed at Mac’s cape comment before continuing, “But sidekicks are always there to help everyone, even their baby sisters. You still up for the job?”

His son nodded with the widest grin. “I can do it! I can be Mommy’s sidekick!”

“I think you can too,” Jake looked at his son, full of pride. “But I need you to promise me one more thing, Mac.”

“What?”

“That whenever you want me or Mommy to hang out with you, you use your words and tell us what you want. No more throwing things and being mad without telling us. Okay?”

Mac sighed, nodding. Jake knew that this wouldn’t solve anything, but it would be a start for all of them. Hopefully, it would make things easier for Amy to have someone ready to help. Hopefully, it would help Mac realize Lucy wasn’t all that bad. Hopefully, this would be the change that would make everything right.

//

Folding the last blanket from the laundry basket, Amy looked up at the clock for the time. 3:37. Lucy was still peacefully sleeping after being put down for a nap. Jake was scheduled to be home in just 23 minutes. And Mac--

Where was Mac?

“Mac Attack?” She called out, hoping for a response from his room down the hall. The silence filled for a moment before she tried again. “Mac?”

“Shh!”

Her eyebrow rose as the sound came from her room. The only one in there should be the baby but that little voice resonated in there as well.

She tiptoed down to her and Jake’s room, peaking in to find a scene that warmed her heart. There on the bed sat Mac with her notepad and his own crayon, right beside the bassinet with the sleeping Lucy. His hand scribbled across the page as to fill in the gaps he created with color.

“What are you up to, bud?” Amy joined him on the bed, peering at his artwork.

“I’m just watching Lulu for you.” Mac finished his scribble while looking over at Lucy and then Amy. “You needed a break. Superheroes need breaks sometimes.”

After a quick chuckle, Amy smiled. For weeks, they were sure that Mac hated Lucy and would not relent until the two were older and out of the house. But this, this moment right here, screamed change. A change that Amy couldn’t put her finger on.

“Thank you, sidekick.” She leaned down to press a kiss to his unruly curls. “You’re such a good big brother.”

“I know,” Mac shrugged before stealing one more glance at his sister. He soon ripped his picture off the notepad and picked up a new crayon. “Want to color with me, Mommy?”

“I would love to.” She accepted the crayon but couldn’t take her curious eyes off his first picture. “What were you drawing before I came in?”

“My baby sister. You and Daddy were right. She isn’t that bad.”

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 28

~*~Sebastian~*~

Emma left soft kisses on my stomach before laying on her side, propped on her elbow. I opened my eyes when she brushed a lock of hair off my sweaty forehead. "Feel better?"

I let out a weak laugh before I spoke. "I feel fucking fantastic."

She kissed my cheek, "Good."

"What can I do for you?"  I had ideas but was more than happy to let her pick.

"Nothing. Relax and enjoy the after-effects."

Unexpected answer. I pushed her onto her back, put my head on her shoulder, and wrapped around her. "Cuddle me." I love a good cuddle.

She kissed my head, "Any damn time, Basti-an.”

Oh, I liked her using the Romanian pronunciation of my name mixed with what’s become my sex name. Hell, I liked her saying my name any way.  She tickled my back and arm while I did exactly as she’d said, relaxed and enjoyed the after-effects.

I guess Emma thought I’d fallen asleep. She spoke quietly, "Are you awake?"

"Mmm hmm"

"What are you doing?"

"Staying in the moment. Focusing on what I can feel, see, smell, taste, and touch. It's a calming technique, but I find it good for staying present and enjoying a moment. Solidifying it in memory."

"You're trying to create a sense memory of your latest blow job?"

I looked up her with a glare, "It was a very good blow job."

"Thank you."

"I think I should be thanking you." I moved up beside her and kissed her, long and slow. She hummed her approval. "Tell me about your first kiss?"

She took a deep breath, sighed, and fluttered her eyelashes, "First kiss." She looked at me with a smile and I felt my stomach do what her eyelashes had. "I was in eighth grade. We were under the bleachers at a football game. Everyone made out under the bleachers at football games."

I interrupted, "Don't things fall on you?" Gross.

Emma laughed, "Definitely. You have to get there early to get a good spot kinda behind the bleachers against the fence. Less privacy, but less trash."

"Everything's a tradeoff. Sorry, go on. Oh, what's his name?"

"Chris. Blonde hair, blue eyes, tall, and skinny. He was a new kid. I hadn't really noticed him even though he was in my homeroom. My best friend was too, so we chattered like magpies nonstop. It was maybe the third day of school and we were all lined up to turn in our paperwork. Someone kept flipping my ponytail." She laughed with the memory. "I spun around saying ‘What the hell, Oh, hi. Why do you keep doing that?’ He said because he thought I was pretty and he wanted to talk to me."

"Very smooth for an eighth-grader."

"He was from California."

I fought a smile and nodded, "Of course, makes sense."

"From there it was meeting at lockers, walking to class, texts, and even passing notes. We'd meet at football games on Friday nights. Second game we went under the bleachers. My best friend had already been making out with her boyfriend and she'd told me all about it and how to do it." She closed her eyes, "He put both his hands on my face and kissed me. I was completely nervous. I remember that shock when our tongues first touched." She opened her eyes and looked at me. "Clearly not his first kiss."

"Well, he was from California." We both laughed. "Don't stop, what's the rest of the story."

"A lot of making out under bleachers and in movie theatres. Then in February he asked Sheila to homecoming dance. I broke up with him."

"Ouch."

She rolled her eyes, "Heartbroken. Months later he sent me a note saying it was the biggest mistake of his life. Very middle school melodramatic. Moved back to California in the summer. Except for the end part it was a good puppy love." Her eyes lit up like she just remembered something. "Still have the notes."

"No, you don't!" I half yelled and sat up in the bed. Seriously, she did not keep notes from a high school first love.

"I do.” She got up and went to a small wooden box on the dresser, digging around a little before coming back to the bed. I was sitting crossed legged and she draped a leg over mine, scooting in close where I could see. "This is the first." She unfolded it and pointed to a scribbled part at the bottom, “I don’t care how long it is as long as you write.”. She opened another and pointed to the bottom, "First time he told me, well, wrote in a note, that he loved me." Last one was longer. "This is worse than I remember."

There was a PS at the end that said “I’ll always love you.”  Who even writes notes? I mean, it was a long time ago, but nobody’s written notes in forever. "It's actually very sweet."

"Yeah, it was. I’ve had good boyfriends until they weren't, but you can’t judge a relationship by the end. I always thought it was because I wasn't willing to settle."

I felt the shift when my face went serious. I tried for a sweet smile. I swear, we seem to always go from these silly nothing conversations to some intense deep thing. "Did you? Have you?"

"I don't think so. There were bad dates or things were off after a couple of dates and I ended it, but good relationships." I screwed up my face, "Might be an overstatement as there's only been two."

“You weed out the bad ones."

"Sure, we'll go with that." I had questions and thankfully she went on. “My mother would say I’m too picky and too quick to reject someone. I disagree. I don’t understand keeping dating someone you really don’t like most things about, are arguing with all the time, or have no connection with. Not at the beginning. I’m not going to invest time in something that’s already not very good.”

“I don’t disagree with you. If there’s no connection why go on. It’s either there or it isn’t. I mean, I guess in the case of friends who become more, well, no because there was a friendship connection. It took maybe two minutes for me to know I wanted to know you better.” I crossed my fingers, "Not a weed."

She ran my fingers down my chest, "Not a weed." She kissed me softly, "Your first kiss."

I looked at her strangely, "You don't know?"

“How would I know anything about this?

Ok, I’ll go with it. "I was ten. Mom had asked an older neighbor to keep an eye on me back and forth to school. One day she asked if I'd ever kissed a girl and if I wanted to. Yes, yes, I did. So, she kissed me. You're going to ask how much older. She was sixteen."

She hissed in a breath between clenched teeth. "Eww!"

"I know, I know." I held his hands up. "I mean current me knows, but ten-year-old me felt like he was a fucking god." I chuckled, "Completely wrong, but I’m supporting ten-year-old me. He didn't feel exploited, he felt blessed."

"The supposed victim, and I hate the word victim, gets to decide if the joke or comment was sexual harassment. So, ten-year-old you can choose inappropriate, but fun kiss." She cut her eyes toward me, “Just a kiss?"

I smiled, "Just a kiss. I can’t believe you didn't know this story."

"How would I know about your first kiss?"

"Internet. People magazine. Podcast. My friend had a podcast and I was on to get him some traffic. Felt like us talking, which it was supposed to, and we talked about firsts."

She made a face and huffed out a breath, "The internet holds a treasure trove of information that everyone besides me knows. I feel behind."

"I like that you're behind. We get to know each other on an even level. I can't look you up and know all sorts of things."

Emma flinched. "I see your point and I won't be reading any past interviews. We start at today. Well, Friday."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Not fair I can find out anything and you have to ask."

“Thank you."

She waved me away, "No problem." I kissed her and she was smirking when I pulled away. "How about first kiss with a girl you actually liked?"

"Ha ha, that went better, but not as sweet as yours. It was the cast party for the school play. We'd been flirting all through rehearsal whenever we could. We weren't in many scenes together. Someone had spiked the punch so I had some liquid courage. We were slow dancing to something by Savage Garden and during the chorus, I kissed her. It was good, but I learned my tongue and my feet do not work at the same time. They trip over and step on things."

"Noted. Steel toed dancing shoes. Did she become someone special?"

"Not at the time. It was a one-night party. I was only a Sophomore and she was a year ahead."

"You have a thing for older women."

"Maybe. We didn't date that year. It was maybe half way through her Senior year when something clicked. We had plans. I'd join her at NYU the next year. My senior year I went up there a lot. She had three roommates. My parents were always home. Any time I could get together enough money we'd rent a hotel room to have sex." I laughed," First time I ran out and got us Happy Meals after."

"Aw, you bought her dinner."

"After the hotel it was the best I could do."

"Hey, I didn't get a Happy Meal."

"No, my mother made you dinner before we had sex."

“True.” Her voice sang, “How was it?"

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Faster than I thought. Took very little time really." She was snickering. "It got better."

"I can attest to this."

"Thanks. It was good, we were in love, and we'd be in the same school next year. Until I decided to go to Rutgers. Not far away, like an hour by train, but we both wanted to be doing things at our schools. We decided to see other people. We kept in touch and occasionally hooked up. Then I spent a year in London and by the time I came back she was gone. Went to law school in California."

Emma opened her eyes wide, "Maybe she and Chris hooked up! Our exes living a fairytale in a place that doesn’t have snow."

"Anything is possible. And what about your first time?"

"My sixteenth birthday." Her turn to smirk, "That's what I wanted for my birthday. I didn't have a boyfriend, but there was a party that weekend. He was a Senior. Nice guy. We had a class together, so I knew him. It was a house party and we found an open room. The sex was good, he knew what he was doing. Never regretted going for experience over waiting for the right guy. Amy was the exact opposite and couldn't believe I lost my virginity to someone I didn't love or at least close. I didn't get the big deal. Sex and love don't always go together."

"No, they don't. How did you not care what everyone thought so young? I still struggle."

"I had the other problem. I had to learn to take other people's opinions into account as possibly valid. I wasn't selfish or mean, but I had definite opinions and if you wanted to change it you better have data. Then I dated a lawyer for a couple of years and realized how obnoxious that was."

"A relationship you came out of better than you were before."

She held her hands above her head and looked up, "I am a unicorn. Better after a breakup. Doesn't equate sex and love and can cook."

I laughed as I wrapped my arms around her, "You are one of a kind."

"A unicorn."

"Fine, you're a unicorn.” I like how pauses are filled up with kisses now. “Translates to you tend to be stubborn and I tend to overthink. We’re gonna have some fun arguments."

"I don't fight to win, I fight to fix it, to find solutions."

I threw my head back, "You had a good therapist."

I was greeted with a quirked eyebrow, "Is at a problem?"

I held my hands up in surrender, "No. I bought my therapist a new couch. It wasn’t that comfortable and I was spending a lot of time on."

We leaned into each other, laughing. "Mines PRN now, maybe every couple months, more if I need."

"I’m working through some stuff."

"I wonder what our therapists’ would think about this?"

"Haha, she'll love that I impulsively asked out a stranger. Still need to work on overthinking thing."

"Trevor would question the wisdom of you being in my home, but would love me just having fun and going for it."

[victorianwestpiano]

Hi! How do you think Holt and Colette would be if the Spanish Influenza hadn't ended in 1919 but continued into 1920, after they'd met and started working together?

Dreamland 1920:

A lot of people thought that the Spanish Influenza would end on 1919, however, this pandemic lasted a little bit more than everyone had expected. All the plans were either cancelled or postponed and it wasn’t pleasing at all. Now, on 1920, the virus had made its way to New York city and the situation became critical, not as much as the countrysides or fields, but still.

The famous impresario VA Vandevere had just bought a flying baby elephant, who he thinks, it’ll bring his park joy through all this trouble. When he arrived at the circus where the animal is from on the first day, he, his driver and butler Sotheby, bodyguard Skellig and his principal star Colette Marchant, they were all wearing medical masks. Not a very fancy first impression but it was necessary, specially on that circus, since some members already died there.

The meeting with Max Medici, the owner of the circus, was quick but convincing, the ringmaster thought that, outside Dumbo’s future fame, moving his troupe would keep them safer, since the conditions in a city were better than in a field. After a few days, the Medici Bros.Circus moved to New York, not knowing what to expect.

Unfortunately, bad news did arrived after all at Dreamland; the Spanish Influenza dis reached the park and most of the workers became sick because of the epidemic, including the Medici truope. Max, Rongo, Puck, Miss Atlantis, Ivan, Catherine, Pramesh and his nephew Arav caught the virus and all of them stayed in one place at an appartment, so they won’t spread the flu. They stayed at Max’s appartment which fortunately, it was big enough for his friends, but the only ones who hadn’t became sick were Holt, Colette, Milly and Joe, so they stayed in Holt’s own appartment.

Mr Sotheby called a good doctor who VA trusted and went to see the sick workers. The doctor was called Dr Mendes and he suggested to Holt and Colette to help him by deliver the medicine to the troupe and changing the cold compresses, since they were the only ones of the bunch who were still healthy. And Holt was not going to risk his children’s health so he told the kids to stay inside, he was not going to loose them because of this illness… like the way he lost Annie.

The Stallion Star and The Queen of Heavens barely knew eachother, in fact since their first encounter they had a lot of disagreements and tease one another, however, in this situation they had to forget their differences and cooperate to help.

Dr Mendes gave Colette and Holt medic masks and ask them to wear them everytime they were near the patients, there were trays with all the medicine needed on a table.

“Put this masks on now,” Dr Mendes ordered, “use gloves too, is very important and take this trays to your friends, they’ll need this compresses.” the doctor looked directly at the cowboy to make sure he understood. “I’ll take this one to the other group of workers, call me if something happens.”

Holt and Colette nodded and the doctor went with the medicine for the local Dreamland workers. The french woman put her gloves on and tied up behind her head the mask, then she saw Holt who hasn’t put on his medical equipment yet.

“May I help you with that, cavalier?” Colette asked finishing tying her own mask.

Holt’s head turned to see her, “Thank you but… I can do it myself, princess. With a hand behind my back.” he said with pride without humor.

Colette rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, “Trés bien, do it yourself.” she waited for the cowboy to realize he was being ridiculous.

Holt grabbed his glove and leaned his head to his hand so he can put it on with the help of his mouth, but Colette interrupted him.

“Wait, no!  Are you an idiot?” she abruptally took Holt’s glove before it touched his lips. “You can’t put this thing in your mouth! Don’t you know there are already bacteria on this? You can also spread them with your own saliva, is gross!” the aerialist scoled the Kentucky rider. “Come on, give me your hand”

Holt rolled his own eyes, “I’m perfectly clean woman,” still, he obeyed and offered his hand and the french woman who placed the glove on his only hand, “just because I have one arm, it doesn’t make me a cripple---”

“Oui, oui, turn around you stoic.” Colette ignored Holt and with her index finger made a swirl as a sign for him to turn his back.

The cowboy sighed, his back facing her while she put the mask carefully in front of his mouth, then she started to form knot at the back of his head. “You are very proud, eh ma cherie?” Colette commented with a teasing tone, her voiced a little low due to the cloth of the mask she was wearing.

However, Holt wasn’t in the mood for joking around, he spun to see the french lady again when she finished tightening up the knot, “For some things I am proud woman, for others… not much.” Holt responded serious while his words pierced his mask wich gave him a nasal tone. “But thank you for the help...c’mon let’s deliver this stuff and get this over with.” he rapidly picked up a tray with his hand and went outside.

Colette made a puzzled look at him while he was leaving, nevertheless, she grabbed the other tray carefully and followed him.

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

Hours later, Colette and Holt finally ended thier duty, the Medici troupe were given water, new compresses and some cough syrup. The good news were that, because the troupe admitted early they had the symptoms, the doctor treated them in time and they were going to get better soon. The bad news this was a constant reminder for Holt that he could save his friends but not his wife, thing which hurted his heart. This whole Influenza situation left him numb and tired, he wanted this whole damn thing to end.

The cowbow walked through the hallway inside the hotel where he and his family were living, he stood still, leaning his back on a wall and slid down until he sat on the ground. He stepped on a finger of his glove with his boot, pulling his hand harshly to take it off. Once he managed to do that, Holt removed the mask of his face leaving it below his jaw. He leaned his head back and rested it on the wall, he closed his eyes and let out a big sigh.

Suddenly, Holt heard fotsteps coming towards him, he opened his eyes and saw Colette approaching him. “You are tired now, cavalier?” she responded leaning on the same wall as Holt.

“Please, leave me alone…” the ride exhaled.

“Why are you so serious? You should be happy, your friends are going to recover and your children are not sick.” the aerialist exclaimed with curiousity.

“I know that, but that is not reason to celebrate... not for me.” Holt bowed his head.

Colette rised an eyebrow and started to untie her medical mask. “What’s wrong Holt? Something tells me that there is something you are hiding.”

Holt turned his head again to see how the french aerialist joined him sitting on the floor, taking off her mask, she was smiling at him, maybe to give him confidence to talk.

“I lost somone I love because of this, and I couldn’t even be with her when... it happened.” the voice of the rider was scratchy and sorrowful.

“Who?” Colette looked at him concerned.

Holt took a deep breath, “My wife... Annie was her name...”

“Oh I’m so sorry,” Colette replied with genuine surprise and sadness. “When... did that happened?”

“An year ago,” Holt answered feeling a lump in his throat “I was away in the war while she... she... was dying Colette, and.... it was my foult.”

The french woman rised her eyebrow once more, “Wait, do not tell me you are blaming yourself of her death. Being away in the war or not... she could’ve still caught Influenza, mon amie.” she said softly.

“But I could’ve still be there!” Holt cried out loud. “Since they told me by letter that she died, it was like... losing air from my lungs. And my children... they where there watching her own mother die!! And I wasn’t there!!! I wasn’t there...” Holt’s shoulders were shaking and tears began to fall. “I’m not letting this fucking disease kill Milly and Joe, I won’t let that happen!” then, Holt’s voice broke and started to cry.

Colette could only watch him cry, they had known eachother for a few days but she always saw Holt as someone strong and stoic like she called him before, now she was seeing that man breaking down in tears because he lost the love of his life due to this horrible virus when he was far away from her. It wasn’t his fault, it was true, but who could not feel guilty not being beside their wife when she is saying her last words?

Colette gingerly placed her hand on the man’s shoulder and gently whispered to him, “I’m sorry for your loss. Holt, I really am. Shhh.” she tried to give him comfort “And I know how you feel, because... I also... lost someone I loved because of an illness.”

Hearing what she said, the cowboy slowly lifted his head and looked at the woman’s blue eyes. “You, you lost someone too?... Who was it?” he whimpered.

“My father.” the aerialist mournfully admitted, “But it wasn’t Influenza.”

“Oh,” Holt sniffed loudly. “For what... did he died?.“

“Cancer.” Colette inhaled deeply looking down.

Holt sighed and wipped away his tears to look better at the woman’s sad expression.

“I was only 15...my papa, was the head of the family, he was... the one who encouraged me to do trapeze...” Colette looked at the ceiling to try not to cry “and... I’ve suffered a lot when he died, I saw him having his last breath. My sister, my maman and I went through a lot of difficulties because of that. So, oui, everything went to hell for me too, you are not the only one, cherie.” she bit her lip, not wanting to cry as well.

Holt gulped, he deeply breathed to talk again normally, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean to yell at you either.” he said regretful, “Is just... I’m so stressed out right now.” the rider passed his palm on his face.

“I accept your apology, ma cherie, it’s ok” Colette affirmed giving a small smile at him, her hand still caressing his right shoulder. “Will try to defeat this virus, everything will be fine from now, je te le promets.”

Holt gave her a confused look not understanding her mother language, “What did you said?”.

“ ’Je te le promets’, it means that I promise that everything will be fine” Colette said.

“Oh! Now I understand... uhmm thank you...” Holt responded.

“This surprises me of you amie, you went to fight in France in the war and you don’t know nothing of french.” the aerialist showed him a sideway smile.

“Well,” Holt scratched his head “the thing is at the battlefield we already had french guys as allies who spoke english or americans who knew french, so we have them as translators. We didn’t need to learn.” he said a tiny embarassed.

“Oh mon dieu, there is a lot you have to learn.” she said pretending to be insulted in a very exagerated way leaning her back on the wall, then she formed a teasing smile.

Holt couldn’t help but smile too, after the pain they both shared it was completely refreshing to try to have a moment of glee, at least a tiny one. Holt looked deeply into Colette’s eyes again, they were... beautiful, he never saw eyes so blue and so expressive, her smile was so genuine too... and her lips... those were the most cute lips he ever saw, they looked pretty without makeup. In fact, she, this woman, looked beautiful without makeup at all, he didn’t get why she had to wear those big red wigs and tons of makeup on her face. Holt always prefered women’s natural beauty, Annie never used half of the makeup Colette wore on the first day he saw her, and she still looked gorgeous. Colette is the same, the cowboy thought for himself, she’s a gorgeus woman indeed... Suddenly he shook his head at such idea and a tiny blush appeared on the tip of his ears, Did I really thought of that? But his thoughts were interrupted by a sudden voice.

“Mr Farrier, Miss Marchant,” Dr Mendes walked towards them, “Why are you not wearing your masks? It could be dangerous for you, put them on.” he ordered.

Colette and Holt rose up from the floor, the french woman tied up again her own mask whilst Holt put it on before his mouth again.

“Alright, look, I have to tell you something important.” Dr Mendes pointedly replied.

“What is it doc?” Holt talked through his medical mask, sighing.

“Some people of your circus troupe will get better soon, but others won’t be recovering as fast as the rest, the same happens with some of the park’s roustabouts.” the doctor told them.

“So, what does that mean?” Colette asked.

“Well, since you two, your kids Mr Farrier, and Mr Vandevere are the only ones who are not sick or don’t present any symptoms, the thing I ask of you is.... blood samples.” Dr Mendes said.

Holt’s eyes widened and eyebrows rose, “Blood samples? You mean taking blood from us?”

“Exactly,” the doctor affirmed, “I’ll need those samples so I can make an antydote for the patients with a more critical state,” then the doctor opened his firs aid kit and and grabbed something from the inside.

“Aaand, how are you going to do it doc?” Holt asked nervous.

“With this.” in the doctor’s hand there was a huge syrenge with a large needle in it he took from his kit.

At the simple sight of that needle, Holt’s pressure dropped, his knees felt weak and his whole body collapsed. He closed his eyes, he was about to faint into the ground.

“Holt!” but Colette caught him on time. His only arm was around her shoulders while she was carrying his dead weight, Colette grabbed him with all her strength, however, she quickly placed him against a wall. His body slid into the floor again, his head hunging down.

“Holt, please wake up mon dieu!!” Colette knelt and yelled while she was lightly slapping him in the face so he can get back his conciousness.

“Oh my God! I’ll bring him something for his pressure, I’ll be right back.” Dr Mendes left them so he can find what Holt needed for fainting.

Holt little by little started to react and mumbled with his mouth, “Don-don’t let th-that crazy doc-tor get near me-me....” he weakly said to Colette “I- I h-hate needles.”

But Colette rolled her eyes at his statement, “Come on Holt, get up, you are an adult. You are like almost 40 years old and you are afarid of a needle? Act like a grown up... Sacre bleu this is embarrassing!” she sighed indignant, trying to pick him up.

“Okay...I’m sorry.” Holt tried to get up, although he felt his head was still deezy. Because of that he lost his sence of balance when his foot slipped in the shiny floor when he tried to take his first step. When that happened, his body went forward to Colette, landing on her, he grabbed strongly her body, their noses brushed and their masks crushed into eachother,

Colette was frozen at such accident and stood there with eyes wide open. When Holt finally recovered his consciense he fixed his eyes on the french woman’s face, which it was closer than he could’ve expected. Once the cowboy realized in what kind of position he was, he felt Colette’s breath on his mouth, giving away the closeness of thir lips. If it weren’t for the masks, their mouths would’ve touched.. .they would’ve... kissed.

Both adults blushed red on their cheeks and abruptally moved away from eachother, not wanting to look the other’s eyes. Holt felt his collar tight and coughed a bit.

Colette did the same removing a strain of hair and place it behind her ear. “Trés bien!” she wanted the akwardness and the blush to fade away fast, “Let’s give him those samples now, oui?”

“Oui,” Holt nervously agreed, “but I can’t promise you that I won’t faint again, since I was a boy I was afraid of needles, woman....”

With that, Holt and Colette went to the doctor’s place, still not looking at eachother. The silence between them was uncomfortable, their blushes took their time to disappear and both their hearts were pounding uncontrollably.

But, fortunately, they were wearing masks on their moths, because none of them could saw that the other was smiling with pure sincerity and even... joy.

The End.

This was loooonger than I expected but still it was fun to do. Honestly it could’ve been better in my opinion but I’m satisfied with the result. Wow... so this is how it feels to respond an ask with a mini fic?.... This is great ;)

Thank you so much @vandeverefan for this ask, I had a lot of fun being creative with this!!!

[theflashdriver]

By Land and Sea

When Sonic makes a bet with Amy, it backfires almost immediately. He has come face to face with one of his greatest fears but, at the same time, he isn't one to back down from a challenge. Can he beat Amy at a swimming race or will he flounder? This is the third part of my Sonamy Week catch up! This fic was written for the race prompt! It’s a little over 4.5k words long, I hope you will enjoy!

"This isn't what I agreed to, Ames."

"Oh, it's exactly what you agreed to, my darling." He could hear the delight in her voice; though his eyes were turned from her the blue hedgehog could plainly see the grin on her face. "You promised that if I beat you in a race you'd go on a date with me."

No, he wasn't looking at her; instead, his eyes were fixed upon the racetrack before him. The very racetrack he took issue with. Marked with floating orbs and, no more than 200 metres away, a flagpole that slowly bobbed from side to side. Two lanes of ocean had been isolated, made into a path through the positioning of small orb-shaped buoys. The two met at their ends, a larger central buoy with a blue flag marking the midway point. If the water were land it'd be simple, as fast as Amy was he'd beat her to the marker, around it and back. He'd probably pass her before she got halfway up her lane… well, maybe three quarters. But the sea was a different matter, they were stood on a beach rather than a raceway. Though he avoided water, he'd seen Amy swimming before. She was good and fast, while he might as well have been made from lead. The blue hedgehog needed a life preserver to keep himself above the surface, let alone swim a straight line. No matter how he tried to bolster himself, throwing his eyes to the sky or focusing on that flag, fear and, an emotion he so rarely faced, doubt was plaguing him.

There was a tug at his wrist. Shuddering, he pried his eyes away; allowing them to meet those of Cream. Innocent and full of empathy, she spoke. "I'm afraid that is what you said Mister Sonic. You didn't specify what kind of race, you only said that Miss Amy had to beat you."

"She's got you there, Sonic. You should've been more specific." From his other side he'd heard Tails, the young fox he trusted more than anyone, betray him over the silly technicality. "You kinda brought this upon yourself."

"D-Don't side with them Tails! You know what I meant just like they do! I mean really. When I say race, is your first thought actually…" He shuddered, looking to the lapping waves ahead of them. "…Swimming?"

Amy's didn't hesitate to answer, gleefully posing a question of her own. "Come on Sonic, what would you call this if not a race?"

Many phrases rushed through Sonic's head; a death trap, a nightmare, a one-way ticket to a watery grave, but he settled on, "Lame. Just plain lame." Unable to stomach it, he turned around; eyes closed and chin raised. "It's like challenging Knuckles to chess after he says he can beat anyone in a one on one match, or askin' the Chaotix to solve maths problems rather than mysteries. It's just not what they do, just like I don't swim."

Cream gasped, innocently taken aback. "Oh no, does that mean you're giving up Mister Sonic?"

"Of course not Cream." He'd turned back to the young rabbit, lowering himself to better look her in the eye. "Even if Amy's better at…" Despite having spoken it once already, the word 'swim' felt gross in his mouth. He shook off its vile taste, continuing to reassure the little girl. "Even if Amy's better at this than me, I've got to give it my best shot! No matter how scared you are Cream, you should never back down." It wasn't his best motivational speech, but then he wasn't in the best headspace. He was bolstering himself almost as much as he was trying to send a message.

The young rabbit gave a strong nod, the little chao in her arms matching it. "You're right Mister Sonic! You should always do your best, even when defeat is certain. You might get lucky!" It wasn't quite the glowing affirmation he'd hoped for; even though he knew the rabbit was being genuine, her lack of faith did scuff his pride. Before her wounding could show, she'd turned to face Amy. "Cheese and I will go set things up. Good luck both of you!"

With that, Cream rushed away from the group; what she had left to set up Sonic had no idea. There was a beat of silence, his gut wouldn't let him turn toward the sea and yet he didn't have the strength to face Amy. Thus, he looked to the sky; the sun was shining, the day was windless and only had a few clouds to its name. If this were it a regular race, these would be the perfect conditions.

"Sonic." All of a sudden his imagined visage of Amy was discarded, the anxious way she'd said his name had stripped it all away. "Are you actually scared? You know we don't have to do this if you don't want to"

"Me? Scared?" He snorted, both attempting to reassure her while, simultaneously, puffing himself up. "Yeah right."

"Well, supposing you were, there's nothing to worry about." Unfortunately, his words hadn't been quite enough. She probably wanted him to meet her eye. "The waters are calm today and we shouldn't be at sea any longer than ten minutes. Besides, we're not going too far out."

Finding the strength, he looked to her. Sure enough, there was a glint of concern in her eyes, hands clasped before her. He grinned, shaking his head. "Honestly Ames, I was just putting on a show to make the kids think you stand a chance. Keep things interesting. I'll totally be able to…" The word 'swim' caught on his tongue again, its mere thought made him queasy, but he forced himself through it; maintaining bravado. "Win this race, no sweat."

"Oh really? You're not?" Following his show of confidence, her concern had mostly slipped away, a smile sliding into its place. Amy had leant in, standing on her tiptoes to match his height. "It's cute seeing you flustered for once, Sonic." Perhaps his queasiness wasn't so easily hidden. "Don't worry; I'm sure it'll be an easy lap." There were few cockier than him and so, when it came to smugness, he could recognise it from a mile away. "If anything happens just call me and I'll swim over to save you. I want you in one piece for our date after all."

Attempting to exceed her cockiness, Sonic rose to his own toes and outsized her once more. A winning smirk returned to his lips. "Don't you worry about me Ames, it may be calm now but as soon as I'm out there it's going to get choppy. Maybe duck under when I pass by, the waves are gonna be huge."

"Yes Sonic, I'm terrified of your doggy-paddle." Once again, his endeavour had failed. "Well, as long as I can hear your screaming over the splashing you're in safe hands." Amy lowered herself, turning on her heel, but before she left she looked back to him, a gentler smile on her face. "As much as I want to win, more than that, I hope you have fun; I know you enjoy competition after all. Good luck Sonic!"

"Y-Yeah, good luck Ames!" He ran his finger beneath his nose and, before he could stop himself, called out in reassurance. "Don't worry so much, swimming or running, I like spending time with you." He almost bit through his tongue as she turned around. A pinkness matching her hair had snuck onto her cheeks. "I mean, having you around keep things interesting… you know what I mean?"

Amy's hands clasped, her smile blinding. "Aww, Sonic! Of course, I know what you mean!"

When Miss Rose turned around the spring in her step had more than doubled. He rubbed his forehead. Sonic wasn't sure which parts of that conversation he regretted and, while he was no stranger to making a fool of himself, the knot in his stomach and heat he was feeling were a little too much to handle. He took a deep breath, circling his shoulders, and tried to push out such thoughts. What's done was done, he'd talked a big game so he had to do something… even if winning wasn't in the cards. Just what that something was, he had no idea. Planning was difficult…

"If you're so worried about it why don't you just run off?" Tails question pulled Sonic from his stupor; the little fox had raised a good point. "It's not like you haven't before."

"As stupid of a race as this is, I did kind of promise her, you know?" He ran a hand through his quills, continuing to ignore the heat on his cheeks. "Running off now, it'd just be wrong. Uncool even."

"Wow, I guess this really was smart of her. I didn't realise your word to her meant that much." A glance to Tails proved a fact he'd feared, there was a broad grin on his face. The smugness was spreading.

Flashing his own grin Sonic reached down, ruffling the young fox's ears. "Nah, it's just that Cream's here. Got to be a good role model, after all, I can't let her think heroes back down from a challenge. Let alone lie."

The young boy snorted. "Yeah right, you just don't want to admit it."

"Admit what?" He feigned ignorance.

"Though you whined about the race, and I'm sure you'll moan when you lose, you don't think Amy winning would be such a bad thing." Sonic could practically hear his influence in the young boy's taunts. "In fact, I bet you want to go on that da-

The hedgehog continued to noogie him, further messing his fur and cutting him off. "Yeah, well, when I beat her in this race I'll prove you doubly wrong, won't I? That'll be a change."

Finally, the boy genius pushed him off. The grin on his fluffy muzzle was forced into view. "Lucky I brought your inflatable then, isn't it? Or will you not be needing them, seeing as you're so confident."

Hands crossed over his heart, an overly pained expression overcame the Blue Blur's face. Bending his right leg he allowed himself to lean on the young fox as if he'd been gravely wounded. "My own little bro, siding with the enemy. Where did I go wrong? You knew about this, you knew they'd tricked me all this time and yet you said nothing. Oh Tails, how could you?" His right arm raised to cross his brow as he began to mock cry; "My own bro, betrayed by my own bro!"

Laughter erupted beneath him, Sonic heard the sound of feet struggling to kick up sand as the little fox struggled to support him; "It's not like I could've done anything about it, you agreed before I could say anything."

At that, Sonic brought himself to stand straight; whipping a final faux tear from his eye. "I suppose I'll find it in my heart to forgive you then. Stop me next time though, alright? Tackle me to the ground if you have to, you're meant to be my brains."

"Fine, fine, I promise I'll stop you next time." Tails promised. Reaching behind himself and into a small rucksack, the youth pulled out a dark blue lifejacket. On its shoulder a new addition, a bright orange whistle on an extendable cord.

Sonic took it with a sigh, pulling it over his shoulders before doing the buckle around his belly. "You're really confident in me winning, aren't you Tails?"

He shrugged, that smugness had returned. "Better to be safe than sorry,"

The blue blur turned back to the water, Amy wasn't lying when she said it was calm. It must have been close to low tide but the beach was long and empty. A glance further up the bank revealed Cream and Cheese, staking two flags into the sand; both their finish line and likely starting point. So, there would be a dash from land to water before the true challenge started. While at first he'd thought this would merely give him a small head start, an idea snuck its way to the forefront of his mind. There was a technique that, while difficult, he had performed before in times of crisis. The sand sprawled out far enough for it, the only problem he could really foresee was rounding the midway buoy, a sharp turn. If he could control his turning long enough to manage that then things would be fine. Running on water, well… it was worth a shot at least?

"Well, good luck finding your nerve. I'm sure you'll have fun on the date." Before Sonic could get in another word, Tails had taken off; tail spinning as he rushed over to aid the young rabbit.

Rolling his eyes, Sonic opened the valve in his lifejacket and started to blow; inflating it until he felt safe. The young fox wasn't necessarily wrong; even if this plan didn't work out he was more scared of the water than he was the practically inevitable date. Despite his stutter and regret, he hadn't lied; he did enjoy spending time with her. Amy was always excited to see him and she could pull reactions from him that no one else could. She kept him going like no one else could. Pacing, he cast his eyes across the water's surface; watching the waves froth as they broke against pale sand. It really was gross, everything from the scent of salt to the sound told him he wasn't meant to be here. Even the sand beneath his feet was uneven; it kicked up with every step and certainly didn't make for smooth running. Standing on the beach was definitely way worse than lying on the beach, at least then he could keep his distance from the water, listen to music and properly daydream.

"I thought I'd be seeing you at the starting line, I'm surprised you're still hanging back here." Amy had returned, freeing him from his thoughts. "You'll be swimming in your shoes then?"

"Figured I'd end up waiting for you no matter what." He grinned, turning to her as they wandered toward the finish line. "And well, if we're starting with a sprint I ought to get the most out of my head start."

Her red dress had been shed in place of a red swimsuit. While he tried not to think too long about it, let alone stare too long, he did think it suited her. It was a simple, red, one-piece suit but, around the waist, it had additional fabric that flared out to give the guise of a white skirt with a thin red hem.

"I thought you were going to win this race no sweat." She teased.

Winning would still be difficult but with his plan in mind; there was a spark of genuine confidence in his heart. "Well yeah, but this way you won't even make it to the water. No point in you getting soaked over what's sure to be a landslide victory."

"Oh, we'll see about that." They arrived at the starting line, Cream having gathered pebbles from the surrounding area to construct the start/finish line itself and flags being planted to better separate their lanes. "If you're going to do your best, so will I."

As she started to stretch, warming up well for someone certain they'd win, he couldn't help noticing Amy's hairband had been replaced with a messy bun; her quills bundled near the back of her head. Despite telling himself he wouldn't, he'd found himself staring at the cute sight; pulled in by her excitement. Tearing himself away he reached across his body, beginning a stretch of his own.

With the kids continued to set things up, Tails preparing a camera in case (by some miracle) a photo finish occurred, Sonic saw idle opportunity to pry. "So Ames, what did you have in mind for that date?"

"You'll just have to wait and see." She swapped from crossing her right arm against her body to the left.

"What, no spoilers?" He bent down, touching his toes before reaching behind himself; feeling his calves warm. "Come on Amy, give me a hint at least."

"I know the only way to keep you interested is to keep you on your toes," She continued to refuse. "If I told you now, wouldn't you get bored?"

"A deal's a deal, isn't it? I'm coming on the date if you win, no matter how gross it is." Another glance to Amy found her mid-lunge, returning his gaze. "But that doesn't matter, I'm only asking 'cause I'm gonna win. Tell me now, it might convince me to lose on purpose."

"We both know, as soon as your feet leave the sand, you're going to get stuck my darling." She jested. "Regardless, I want you to enjoy yourself on the date so…"

"So?" He quirked a brow, awaiting her statement.

"Well…I haven't quite decided what we're doing yet." That surprised him; Amy had been asking him out for as long as he could remember… yet she had nothing planned? She elaborated. "I've waited so long for this, I've had my heart set on so many ideas, but now it's so close I'm not sure what I want to do." She stood straight, rolling some final kinks out of her shoulders. "Twinkle Park, going to the movies, getting dinner… I can't decide." There was a sparkle in her eyes that, coupled with the glow in her cheeks brought on by her warm-up, was too much for him.

Maybe, if his plan did work out, he'd treat her to something anyway. Go out for chilidogs or maybe just hang around the beach a little longer, today felt like an ice cream and relaxing kind of day.

Having caught himself staring again, Sonic turned away. "Well, it's good you're not set on anything seeing as I'm gonna win."

"In your dreams my darling Sonic." The pink hedgehog had taken her place on the starting line, lowering herself to a crouching start position.

Sonic matched it, fingertips buried in the sand and eyes locked on the path ahead. The running lane couldn't be longer than twenty metres, even that was a higher estimate. Still, he figured it would be enough to build up the speed, he'd grab onto the buoy on the way around for turning leverage. Yeah, that seemed like it'd work!

At the edge of his lane stood Tails and at Amy's stood Cream, both prepared a flag in one hand and a whistle in the other. Cream was beaming. "The first one back wins! Good luck you two!"

"On your marks…"

"Get set…"

With the blow of the whistle he was off, kicking up sand and bolting forward as fast as he could; not a glance to Tails nor even back to Amy as he claimed his lead. No sound but his footfalls and breathing filled his ears, vision tunnelled on the midway buoy. Soon the dull thudding of his feet turned to splashing, the smack of his soles against water, he had to be prepared for that; had to maintain his pace, quicken it even. He could feel the wind cutting against his cheeks, muffling the sun's warmth as the pounding of his heart grew faster.

Then it happened, the first splash; he'd arrived in the shallows! Sonic closed his eyes, refusing brace himself lest it slowed him. Seaspray coated his body, beads of water like bullets buried into his fur to mingle the salt of his sweat with their own. His footfalls continued; short, rapid, splashes that blurred into each other, making it impossible to identify how far out to sea he was. Confident he could keep this up, the hedgehog's eyes reopened. As he could feel, the waters directly in front of him were flickering up with every step; colliding with his legs and bare stomach. He refocused on the buoy, growing closer with every fraction of a second, in preparation he reached out with his right arm. It couldn't have been ten seconds since he'd left the beach, probably closer to five.

The hedgehog lent in preparation for the turn. Contact was made with the flag. His fingers coiled around the pole's length. A resounding snap cut through his wet footfalls. The flagpole hadn't been strong enough to handle his speed and had broken in two; before he could even realise what had happened it was dragging behind him. The drag from the pole had an immediate impact on his speed, rather than bounce off the surface Sonic's next footfall splashed straight through it. Sonic quickly let go of the pipe but it was already too late, his slowed (but still considerable) momentum led him to bounce off the surface twice, splashing deeper each time, before he found himself submerged and spinning.

The world was a blur, his mouth opened only to fill with seawater as his head dunked time and time again, carried by his own prior speed. When he finally stabilised and surfaced he'd completely lost his bearings, coughing and spluttering the hedgehog found himself surrounded by ocean; kept afloat by his life vest more than his awful attempt to tread water. His shoes waterlogged, he could already feel them starting to slip. Limbs smacking against the surface, Sonic was struggling to turn. Craning his neck, bobbing as though he were tempest-tossed, Sonic could see the base of the buoy and, no more than a few metres beyond that floating grey orb, a bobbing pink head on the approach.

Having spat up what was either his fourth or fifth mouthful of water, he felt a wave meet with his back and push him ever so slightly closer to the floater. He knew he was supposed to lean forward, kick his legs and swing his arms, but the position was just too bizarre to him. The hedgehog was at his best upright, sprinting, not lying down and flailing. Thus, precisely as Amy had predicted, Sonic found himself doggy paddling; arms fumbling through the water as he ran in place. His pace was gruelling, though he continued to wriggle the truth he'd always known had set in. In the water, he stood no chance of beating Amy.

Her consistent, fast-paced, breaststroke was cutting through the water unfazed by its gentle waves. As he watched the pink hedgehog approach he did, admittedly, feel himself relax. Tail's lifejacket, despite its condescending whistle, was keeping his head well above the water despite his frantic efforts. He wasn't comfortable but, at the very least, seeing her so close made him feel safe. Before he could quite make it to the buoy she'd pulled up in front of him, coming to a halt and treading water so very casually.

Soaked and ragged, he used most of his remaining smarm. "Hey, Ames. Long time no see."

"Hey." That prior cockiness wasn't there, instead that gentle smile she'd worn when she'd worried about his fear. "Need a little help?"

"Maybe just a little, looks like you're goin' my way and getting there way faster than me." He smiled.

"Nothing to it but practice." She'd gotten closer still, floating shoulder to shoulder with him. "Wrap your arm around me and I'll show you."

He fully stopped treading water, taking her offer and allowing herself to properly float with her. It'd be a lie to say he wasn't embarrassed but, given the situation, he thought he was keeping his cool rather well. "I think it'll be lost on me but I'll give it a shot."

Amy lowered herself, laying flat in the water, and began to swim again. She'd slowed yes, head permanently raised above the water rather than bobbing, but her pace was still ten times what his had been, "You just need to understand that, as long as you keep moving, you'll keep floating."

"You say that but without this vest, I'd have sunk like a stone regardless of how hard I struggled." He explained.

"That's where the practice comes in, the more you do it the longer you'll manage to stay up."

"I'm sure you're right Ames, but, I think I'll just stick to dry land wherever I can." He couldn't help staring at her as she swam; powerful arms cutting through the water. Words seemed to bubble up without his say. "Then again, I guess I would like to practice running on water some more. If I'd made it around that corner I'd have beat you for certain."

"Well, if you want another shot at it you could always challenge me to another race." He could tell she was joking, at least mostly, "Although, I've yet to decide on our first date, let alone a second…"

As she raised the deal again, a thought entered the hedgehog's head, one he hadn't considered until now. Thinking fast, Sonic waggled his forefinger; "I said if you won I'd go on a date with you, not what kind of date we'd be going on." Finally, having been soaked and beaten, things were back to their natural state. He was the one being cocky. "That means I get to pick what we do."

"Oh Sonic, you really think that matters to me? Of course, you can pick our first date! I'd love that!" Her swimming slowed, she'd turned to look over her shoulder. A smile had spread across her lips, still gently pulling him along. "I didn't pick this race because I knew I'd win, I picked it so you couldn't keep running once you cleared the finishing line. Any time spent with you is a good time."

"Y-Yeah, sure, wh-whatever, Ames." Though he couldn't bring himself to admit it, surrounded by ocean and blushing profusely, he felt the same.

[belle-greene]

DEAD INSIDE - GUTS

S1.E2

Sat with a pile of mushrooms in front of them, I watched as Lori and Amy mindlessly sorted through various kinds they had collected over the day, a look of mild confusion on Amy's face as she inspected one, "How can you tell if they're poison?" She wondered aloud.

I saw Lori shrug with a slight smile on her face, "There's only one sure way I know of."

I couldn't stop the chuckle coming out of my mouth, my eyes catching Lori's at her insinuation, knowing full well we were screwed. None of us had any idea which mushrooms you could eat, which were poison and which ones were going to make you see dead people walking.

Oh wait, you didn't need drugs for that one.

But Amy clearly didn't understand the joke, and instead just flickered her eyes up to Lori's in question, "Wait until Shane gets back?"

Amusement covered Lori's features and I'd bet my life that it had on mine too, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. Instead of explaining, Lori simply nodded with an attempt at a serious face, "Yeah, you've got it. Thank you." As soon as I saw her push herself onto her feet, I took a few steps towards them with folded arms, but she only arched her brow at me, "You know, you don't have to come with me."

Shaking my head adamantly, I spoke, "And you know I'm not letting you go out there alone."

Lori had quickly become a motherly figure to me, I mean, she always had been considering my mom was never in the picture and how close her husband was to my dad, but since she outbreak our connection had really grown. Carl was my brother, I don't care what any DNA test said, he was exactly that. And I promised Rick that I'd protect him as he was, because he was.

"Alright," she tutted, dusting off her palms as she turned to look up at Dale, raising her voice slightly, "Dale, we're heading out." She turned back down to Carl, placing a protective hand on the top of his head, "Sweetheart, I want you to stay where Dale can see you, okay?"

Carl, already knowing what was coming, simply nodded, his tone flat, "Yes mom."

I quickly pointed an accusing figure towards him with a mischievous smile, "And no kissing Sophia, we can't have her running off because of you."

Pulling a disgusted face, Carl's cheeks burnt bright red as he ran away from his laughing mother, a sound that we didn't get enough these days.

Dale stood slightly, resting his binoculars to the side as he glanced down at the two of us, "You too. Don't wander too far. Stay within shouting distance. And if you see anything, holler. I'll come running." He promised.

With a teasing eye roll, Lori nodded, "Yes, mom."

Chuckling at the two, I gave Dale an acknowledging nod before Lori and I made our way into the surrounding woods. "I love old men," I laughed out slightly, loving Dale's constant, accidental, wholehearted humour. He was so precious.

"Don't tell your dad, he'll freak out," Lori pulled her own repulsed face, the similarities to Carl uncanny.

"Ew, gross, not like that," I automatically defended, feeling bile raise in my throat. It only earned a loud laugh from Lori.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed my dad sneaking up behind Lori, his finger to his lip in attempt to shush me.

This'll be funny.

Pretending not to notice, I continued walking by Lori's side, deeper into the woods when suddenly my dad's hand came around Lori's mouth, pulling her tightly against his front. She muffled out, fear evident in her eyes as they widen but my dad was soon to shush her, his grin large.

As soon as he let go, I let out my laughter as Lori instantly spun around to slam her hands against his chest, "You scared the hell out of me."

Knowing their time in the woods was the only time they would openly show their affection to each other, I was quick to put my hands up in fake surrender as I back away, "I'll leave you two to do whatever old people do."

Just as I turned back to camp, my dad playfully threw his arm over Lori, hearing him call out as I walked away, "It's just the birds and the bees, darling."

"Not listening," I hollered back, shaking my head as I continued my way out the woods.

I know anyone who knew them would instantly look down on their kind of but not really relationship. Sleeping with your best friends' wife is morally wrong by anyone's standards, but I always knew my dad had some type of feelings for Lori. She was the mother and wife he never had; seeing how she was bringing up Carl, imagining how it would've been different if she brought me up too.

I think my dad did fine on his own, but I'm probably biased. I am talking about myself, after all. But I'm polite, I respect my elders, I don't curse despite his foul mouth and I did everything to protect the ones I loved. I'd say that was pretty well raised.

But the grass is greener and that, my dad would always think what if.

He'd never acted on his emotion, hell, if the world hadn't gone to what it is, I doubt he ever would've. But after he risked our lives to save Lori and Carl's, there was no denying what he felt for her, and it seemed to be reciprocated, at least a little bit.

I did feel guilty, but Rick's gone, and my dad's more than willing to protect them like they are his own family, like they mean just as much to him as I do. They probably did, sometimes it felt like more.

I didn't mind. I love both Lori and Carl and if they were to become my real family, I have no issues with that.

—

Later that same day, while my dad was off making knots or something ridiculous with Carl, I noticed Amy pacing the ground slightly, a sickly worried expression on her face, "It's late. They should've been back by now."

Dale just merely peered over his shoulder, "Worrying won't make it better," he explained, but it didn't seem to calm her nerves.

I stepped forwards hastily, trying my best to give her a supportive smile but I knew it would've come out as a grimace, "Andrea's strong, she'll be back." Comforting people was something my dad didn't find easy, in fact, he was terrible at it if it didn't involve sleeping with them. I guess I inherited half of that, the bad at comforting part, not the sleeping with them half. I don't think that would work on Amy.

Before she could reply, static sounded from the radio near Dale, the faint voice of an alive, but panicked T-Dog ringing through. I couldn't make out what he was saying exactly, and apparently Dale didn't since he replied with, "Hello?" Nothing. "Hello?" Nothing. "Receptions bad on this end." Again, nothing. "Repeat." Silence. "Repeat."

After a moment, his voice rang through again, "Shane, is that you?"

Lori came striding over, a concerned look on her face as she looked at Dale, "Is that them?"

"We're in some deep shit," he spoke through the radio, "We're trapped in the department store."

"He said they're trapped?" Apprehensive looks appeared on everyone's face, not having any idea what to do, or how to even do it. Some more words came through the radio, but the static was too overpowering, making it almost impossible to make out.

"He said the department store," Lori confirmed, to gain an agreeing nod from Dale.

"I heard it too."

Lori turned towards my dad, a questioning look, "Shane?"

This was common, asking my dad for directions, since he was a cop and clearly strong-willed, though they didn't always agree with his actions. It was hard being the person everyone relied on, especially when you didn't have a clue what you were doing, being thrown into a completely new situation. I honestly felt bad for him sometimes.

"No way. We do not go after them. We do not risk the rest of the group. Ya'll know that." He shook his head firmly.

But that didn't mean I had to agree with him either.

"So we're just going to leave them there?" Amy cried out, disbelief in her tone but I'm not sure why, those had been the rules since the beginning. You don't risk the whole group.

But my dad only shook his head, his inability to comfort coming through yet again, "Look, Amy, I know that this is not easy..."

Before he could finish, anger shot through Amy's eyes, "She volunteered to go to help the rest of us." She defended.

"I know, and she knew the risks, right?" He tilted his head, already knowing the answer, "See, ifs she's trapped, she's gone." He shrugged, like it was nothing and I could feel the anger building inside me, an emotion I tended to express too easily, again, something I probably inherited from him. "So we just have to deal with that. There's nothing we can do."

But Amy just seethed, pure hatred on her face as she flared her nostril at my dad, "She's my sister, you son of a bitch." Before storming off somewhere in the distance, probably towards the RV. Lori sent my dad an annoyed look before quickly following after the distraught Amy.

Turning towards my dad with my arms crossed, I tried my hardest not to snap and instead just raised my brows in obvious disbelief, "Really?"

He just tilted his head, something that annoyed the hell out of me, knowing it was his way of questioning why I'm questioning him, "Those are the rules."

"What if I was me trapped?" I was quick to counter, tilting my own head, imitating him just to get under his nerves, "Or Lori, or Carl?"

He just firmly shook his head, "That's different." He tried to explain, but I wasn't having any of it.

"How?" My voice raised slightly. "Because we're your family? Well those people trapped are these people's family."

He just glared down for a moment, clearly trying to control his own anger bubbling in him, "It's different because none of you would be in that situation in the first place."

Then he just shoved past, barging his way in a direction I didn't even know, or care. So, to get the final word, I just yelled out to him, "You're such an ass." Before making my own way over to Lori and Amy, wanting to try my best and comfort the girl. Even if I'm not good at it, the effort counts, right?

[unholyhelbiglinked]

Camp Beaverbrook | 020

A/N: Well, that's about it for Camp Beaverbrook. And I must say, I'm super proud of myself for actually sticking with it even if I did go off schedule a little bit. Either way, I want to thank everyone who has stuck with me during this absolutely insane reimagining of classic 80's horror films. You guys are truly amazing and supportive and I'll never forget that.

(Oh, and uhhh I'm going to take a month or two to focus on getting my other stories filled out before I tackle the sequel, but the girl's stories don't' end here. I'll answer any lingering questions you have, just keep your eyes peeled for what happens next. Because we all know final girls don't necessarily stay final girls)

READ ON AO3  | READ FROM THE START 

Chloe Beale had read somewhere that Hospitals were liminal spaces. An area akin to a waiting room, or a train station, even a bus stop across from a cemetery in the middle of New Orleans. A place that was meant for transition. Somewhere no one stopped for too long, heading to the afterlife or simply to the nurses at the front desk who reluctantly handed over discharge papers.

Chloe felt like she would be here forever. There was no second stop for her, instead, there was a dark examination room where she had been separated from the rest of the world. There was a slight hum from the x-ray chart that lit the room in a blue glow. A slight breeze against the robe that she was instructed to put on- they had taken her clothes and stuck them in a little clear baggie. She hugged herself closer against the sterile air.

Parchment paper against the examination table was stuck to her bare skin. She waited for a knock, or simply for the slate wooden door to open. A doctor of a police officer- that’s what she was expecting. Someone to handcuff her or probe at her already stinging injuries. Anything but this stalemate.

She tried to count the number of casualties like sheep with sloppily painted numbers against fleece. There was Jane, Jane who could have gotten lost in the woods but couldn’t have been a simple accident. Then Gail- sweet Gail who had run the camp in her stead for years and years. And Wilkens. A man she didn’t know but felt as if she did, smelling of cigar smoke and spilled blood.

“Ms. Beale?” It was a voice instead of a knock, but the door seemed to creak open immediately after that. She jumped despite knowing that someone would be coming for her. It was the same nurse that was dressed in washed pink scrubs. The one who had given her the robe and looked at her with inept solitude. “Sorry to startle you but, the doctor would like to see you now.”

Chloe nodded and fought back a wince at the pain it caused. She felt stiff, the bruise that wrapped around her skin like a choker was burning hot like a branding iron and she fought the urge to run her fingers over the raw spot.

The doctor seemed to be a woman straight out of med school. Her hair was darkened, almost black under the blue glow. It was thrown up in a messy bun but strands fell evenly into her ghostly stare. Her face was bare of makeup but pretty, a white lab coat over a button-down shirt that was an even forest green. Her nametag read Dr. Mary Saxe.  

She had a soft way about her, but not obnoxiously so like the bubblegum nurse who had tried her best to make Chloe feel at ease. It didn’t work so well, but this woman had a presence around her. An authority that was otherwise unmatched.

“I don’t want you to speak, okay? Not before I can take a look at your wounds.”

Chloe didn’t do anything this time. She didn’t answer or nod. Instead, she just watched the woman wet her hands under the sink and slide on a pair of purple nylon gloves. She didn’t bother pulling up a seat, instead, she stood right in front of the young girl, eyes hard and focused.

She couldn’t’ help the sharp inhale that filled her lungs as Dr. Saxe made the first contact. She traced the ring of clotted blood with delicacy before applying certain pressure beneath where Chloe thought here tonsils were. Before she got her tonsils removed as a kid, a lot of other doctors poked around there too. This time it brought tears to her eyes and she felt a certain heir of embarrassment, to choose now to cry. To break over a soreness rather than when the actual cord wrapped around her throat.

“Right,” The doctor seemed unphased. “I’m going to need to do some x-rays, make sure nothing got crushed or fractured. Amy here is going to get some pain medication and that should stop the discomfort.”

Dr. Mary Saxe did something unexpected then, she put her hand on Chloe’s shoulder. Maybe in an attempt of comfort or to get the girl to focus on something other than the tears that dripped off her chin and soaked into the ugly turquoise gown she wore. “Chloe, we’re going to catch the guy who did this, alright? You’re safe here. I don’t want you to believe otherwise.”

Chloe knit her eyebrows together, staring at the stressed features of the stranger in front of her. The woman who had such intense focus. The one who still had her hand on her shoulder and her eyes level. She mustered the courage to speak- much against the woman’s orders.

“He’s… dead.”

A flash of horror shifted to understanding in a moments time, she nodded her head, squeezing Chloe’s shoulder. Did she know? Had Chloe been the only one not to give a statement in the nightmare that took place over these last few weeks? She had a feeling that all four of them had been separated for a reason- Dr. Mary Saxe turning to leave before Chloe grasped onto the fabric of her lab coat.

“Emily?”

“Your friend.” She responded, eyes flashing down to the death grip Chloe held. “She’s lost a lot of blood. The shrapnel split an artery and we stitched it up as well as we could, but we had to put her in a medically induced coma. It’s up to her to wake up now.”

It was Chloe’s turn to nod and think, her stare focused on the cross-sections that the tiled floor created. She heard the door open and shut and acknowledged the presence of the nurse who handed over a Dixie cup of water and a little orange pill. It burned on the way down.

Beca Mitchell was slumped against a chair in a way her father would call despicable. Her back was touching the wall through the open design and her legs were spread against blue scrubs that were too big on her. A sickeningly gross blue that made her look pale, her bare feet cold against the tile floor.

They let her take a shower.

She made one of the orderlies sit on the toilet seat while it filled up with a toxic mist, heavy and hard to breathe through. The woman made small talk with her about the weather and how it was unseasonably cold for this time of the year before moving into the topic of her newborn grandbaby. Beca had allowed herself to focus on her soothing words as she stared up at the stream of water, refusing to blink, watching as the muck and blood washed down the drain. Her chest ached.

Beca stared blankly at the floor in the hallway. She hadn’t looked up as the food cart passed, or when another nurse handed her a Dixie cup with a little orange pill. She tipped her head back and swallowed it and crushed the frail paper between her fingers.

The girl didn’t glance up with the chair next to her suddenly became occupied with another. Instead, she stared, stared at nothing in particular and thought about the throbbing in her nose and the throbbing in her heart. She had shot someone- nonfatally.

“What if you’re right?” She finally whispered, “About me being a terrible person. About it being in my blood.”

Aubrey Posen drew in a calculated breath. She had on her own set of scrubs, the cut on her hairline had been stitched cleanly and was coated in a thick smelling medicine to quell the pain. Her arms were bruised, and her hair was wet- thrown into a dark ponytail. Despite her injuries, she sat up straight.

Beca sniffed and turned to face the girl completely. “We learned about Aristotle in summer school. How he thought people were born amoral- not good or bad. It’s something that’s learned over time and cultivated and” She took a shaky breath. “What if I was just born bad, and that’s what made it so easy for me to shoot Jesse?”

“That theory has been argued amongst centuries, It’s not even-“She got ahead of herself, stilling her thoughts. “It was easy for you to pull the trigger because someone you cared about was in danger. You weighed the options and no matter what, you didn’t fire the killing shot. Don’t blame yourself for helping us live.”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” Beca’s voice was watery. Aubrey grimaced and looked away. “About what happened in the car? That you did what you did because Emily was going to die if we hadn’t of driven away?”

They returned themselves to the quiet that wasn’t quite silence. Aubrey slumped in her seat and tapped her fingers against the armrest. The phones rang at the reception desk a few corridors down. The machines beeped in unison and a man with an awful cough hacked up his second lung for the night.

Then there was the sound of loafers tapping against the linoleum and Beca’s Chest seized. She wasn’t sure if all people in law enforcement were required to wear the same type of shoes or if there was a convention every year under big-top tents to purchase them. He walked with vigor and purpose.

Detective Luis Desmond, Beca remembered. She had seen him more than once at her hearings, his suits always pressed neatly and his hair cut close to the scalp. His dark skin popped against the lavender tie he wore, opting out of the blazer jacket that hugged his frame in court. Wilkens and Desmond shared cigars as they leaned against the car that was wrapped in neon tape at this point.

Beca pushed herself up in her seat and ignored the discomfort it created as the scrubs rolled up against her skin. Desmond didn’t say a word as he sat across from the two girls who cast a wary glance between one another before returning their attention to him.

“Well, girls, I’m going to be frank with you. None of this looks good.” He formed his fingers into a teepee and leaned forward against his knees. It made his pant legs ride up and expose his black socks, but not quite far enough to show his ankles. “We have a dead camp director, a dead federal agent, a body burned beyond recognition and one with an arrow expertly shoved into his throat.”

“We told you everything we know.”

“I’m not finished yet.” He said sternly. “There’s a blown-up shed, a dead little girl with parents who just want answers, and a sizeable dent in a car that you stole.”

There was enough quiet that followed to inform them that he was done now. Beca didn’t’ think it a good idea to mention that it wasn’t technically grand theft auto if the man who held the title was gutted like a fish. She also didn’t’ find it the right time to disclose the fact that she was about to lose the rest of the lake water in her stomach all over those nice leather loafers.

“We’ve called your parents, and then your guardians. They’re all on the way.” Desmond said with a slight twinge in his voice before he stood. “I’ll advise the four of you not to leave town in the following months. It was nice to see you again, Rebeca.”

“Pleasure.” She croaked out, giving a halfhearted wave. He walked back the way he came, and they watched with laser focus before he pushed through the double doors and vanished completely.

“He’s just trying to scare us.” Aubrey exhaled in a shaky breath.

“Yeah, it fucking worked.” Beca slumped further in her chair until she could feel the cold air against exposed skin again, her eyes trained on a little dip in the floor in a space that seemed entirely too liminal.

[lets-talk-appella]

Bechloe #10 for the dialogue prompt challenge? Thanks so much and have a great day!

Hello, thank you for the prompt! Um, very sorry it’s taken me this long. I hope you have a great day as well :)

Prompt: “Come over here and make me.”

Pigtails

Summary:

"Her stomach fills with hot dread. They’re in a rural town in a state known for anti-LGBT attitudes. And they’re obviously together. Of course. She’d been stupid; at home in New York, it’s so easy to forget. At home, they can touch each other, can hold hands, can kiss in public. At home, they can be together.But not here."

Added to “PP3 Doesn’t Exist Here” series.

Tagging for side Saubrey (like, blink and you miss it).

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: T for homophobic attitudes, homophobic slurs, and general intense situation.

AO3 and FFN

Lookingaround at the multitude of fruit, vegetable, and homemade goods vendors linedup along the aisle, in which flows a sea of strangers, Beca has never been soon edge in her life.

Louisianais hotter than she’d expected it to be in March, and the outdoor market they’reat seems more crowded than it should be for such a small town.

“Where thehell are we?” Beca mutters to Chloe, tugging on her hand to pull her closer.Even after almost a year of dating, the feeling of Chloe’s hand in hers stillmakes Beca’s body hum.

“Um, some townthat starts with a T,” Chloe replies absently, her attention more focused onthe beautiful scarves laid out for display on a table next to the walkway. “Ormaybe an F. Or L. I don’t know, ask Amy.”

Beca huffsand cranes her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of Amy, or any of the others, toask exactly why they’d detoured to an outdoor market in the middle of a parkduring what was supposed to be a beach vacation. The whole thing had beenAubrey’s idea, actually, that they all take off work for a long weekend and gettogether for some Bella bonding time; by some miracle, they’d all managed it,even Emily, who was on Spring Break.

Shefinally spots Amy and Aubrey talking to an elderly man selling apples, whileFlo and Stacie carefully examine glass sculptures a few stalls beyond them.Lilly has already disappeared into the crowd, probably in search of a weaponsvendor of some sort. The rest of the Bellas had decided to continue driving totheir hotel rather than stopping. Beca finds herself wishing she’d chosen toride in their car rather than in the van dictated by Amy.

Beca huffsagain and looks forward in time to narrowly avoid being plowed over by a tallman carrying a crate of broccoli. He turns, probably about to apologize foralmost killing her, only for the words to get caught in his throat as he does adouble-take. His eyes flick down, and Beca instinctively follows his gaze towhere her fingers are interlaced with Chloe’s.

She looksup again and the man’s already turning away, never having apologized. Becafrowns, unsure what had happened there. Before she can say anything to Chloe,though, she’s being dragged off in another direction.

“Bec, lookat the honey!” Chloe squeals, stopping in front of a table piled high with jarsof the stuff.

“Mmm, verynice,” Beca replies, more focused on the way the older woman running the standglares at them. She’s wearing a heavy frown and a cross around her neck. Hereyes are fixed on their joined hands.

“Uh, Chlo,maybe –”

“How muchfor a jar?” Chloe asks the woman, who flinches as if stung.

Chloe’shand twitches in Beca’s, but she doesn’t pull away. Beca glances at her, butshe’s just watching the woman expectantly.

The honeyseller stares at Chloe for perhaps a second too long before replying. “Just…one jar, or two?” she asks in a tight voice that seems to carry a heaviermeaning than the sentence should.

“Justone,” Chloe chirps, moving even closer to Beca and momentarily dropping herhand to loop both arms around her waist. “We’ll share.”

The woman’seyes slam shut, then flutter open a second later. “It’s raw honey, so… $7.99.” Shespeaks slowly, as if every word pains her. Her fingers play with the cross ather throat.

Understandingbarrels into Beca’s mind like a freight train. She lets her own eyes slideclosed briefly.

Herstomach fills with hot dread. They’re in a rural town in a state known foranti-LGBT attitudes. And they’re obviously together. Of course. She’d beenstupid; at home in New York, it’s so easy to forget. At home, they can toucheach other, can hold hands, can kiss in public. At home, they can be together.

But nothere.

Beca fidgetsin Chloe’s embrace, unsure how to convey that they have to be more careful –that while they’re there, they can only be “just friends,” but Chloe only holdsher tighter. For the first time ever, Chloe’s arms around her feelconstrictive.

On a whim,Beca glances at the sign taped to the front of the vendor table to checkwhether the listed price is the same as the price the woman had said. It is.

“Oh,okay,” Chloe says brightly, apparently oblivious to the woman’s demeanor. Shedoes have to reclaim her arms from around Beca to dig for her money in herpurse, and Beca takes the opportunity to shift away from her girlfriend, everyinch between them an unsurpassable wall.

Chloe paysthe woman – who is careful not to let their hands touch – and selects a jar ofhoney with a smile that the vendor doesn’t return. Before Beca can resist orpull away, Chloe’s hand finds hers again and they’re off deeper into themarket.

As theywalk, the back of Beca’s neck prickles with the stares – real or imagined, sheisn’t sure – of the people around them. Her head swivels, on the lookout forany sign of hostility. Most people around them, either going in the oppositedirection or just in their general vicinity, don’t spare them any attention.But the more Beca looks, the more she sees: a husband and wife stare openly atthem as they walk past, headed back toward the honey vendor; a man sellingcarrots and peppers scowls at their joined hands; three women waiting in linefor a sample of homemade jam watch them, eyebrows raised, and start whisperingamongst themselves as Beca and Chloe pass.

Theintense scrutiny makes Beca’s stomach roll. The edges of her vision turn fuzzy,and a weight settles on her chest, filling her lungs. She’s pretty sure thehand holding Chloe’s has started sweating.

Sheloosens her grip on Chloe’s hand. “Chloe, maybe we shouldn’t –”

Someonebumps into her, ramming into her shoulder with enough force to knock her offbalance until Chloe steadies her. She looks around wildly, but whoever did itis already gone, swallowed by the crowd at the market. There’s no way it was anaccident, not when it had been that forceful.

“Keep up, I don’t want to lose you in thecrowd,” Chloe calls back to her, her hand only tightening on Beca’s.  

Settingher jaw, Beca holds tight to Chloe; she has a wild desire to protect Chloe fromthis, to keep Chloe unaware of the simmering anger directed at their conjoinedhands. Chloe doesn’t need to know; it would only make her sad. They just needto find the others and get out.

Beca looksaround, but Amy, Aubrey, Lilly, Stacie, and Flo are nowhere to be seen. Becahopes that Aubrey and Stacie have the sense to avoid touching too much.

Maybe holdinghands isn’t enough to give them away. Maybe people just assume they’re onlyfriends trying to stay linked in such a busy area. Maybe Beca’s imagining thestares.

“Can webuy oranges?” Chloe pulls Beca aside abruptly, pointing at a stall overflowingwith the delicious-looking fruit. “They’re supposed to be good here I think.”

“Uh, yeah,sure,” Beca replies, trying to force a smile as she continues to tell herselfshe’s imagining everything.

“Awes!”Chloe beams at her, leaning in to peck her quickly on the lips before Beca canstop her.

It’s a quickkiss, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kiss, but it still sends a bolt of white-hotpanic firing down Beca’s spine.

Ordinarily,kissing Chloe is bliss. This kiss feels like a death sentence.

Beca’s eyesfly wide and she chokes out, “We can’t –”

Before shecan get another word out, Chloe’s turning and leading her (by the hand again)toward the oranges. As they walk, Beca locks eyes with an elderly woman headedin the opposite direction; she’s glaring with open hostility, brow furrowed andlip curled, and Beca instantly knows she’d seen the kiss. Beside her walks alittle girl with her hair in brown pigtails, no older than three or four, thewoman’s granddaughter maybe. She’s also staring, her mouth agape, but her eyesare focused on Chloe.

As Becawatches, the woman and child draw closer and closer, until they’re about to bypasseach other; the little girl’s arm flies out to catch at Chloe’s leg. Chloestops instantly, looking down at the little girl in confusion. Beca stares directlyinto the old woman’s angry eyes, wanting desperately to ask what her problemis, but something large seems to have lodged itself in her throat.

“S’cuseme,” the little girl says in a small voice.

“Yes?”Chloe asks, dropping Beca’s hand and kneeling to match the girl’s height.

Beca holdsher breath, knowing the girl is goingto ask about them, that she’s going to comment on their kiss and call themgross or weird or wrong or any of the far, far uglier words she knows are currentlyflying through the old woman’s mind, and –

The littlegirl reaches out a tentative hand. “Can I touch your hair?”

Chloe’sstartled laugh breaks the staring contest between Beca and the girl’sgrandmother, and both look down.

“Yeah, youcan touch my hair if it’s okay with…?” Chloe looks up to the old womanquestioningly, faltering at the open hostility still on the woman’s face. Thenlittle girl looks up, and the woman’s face shifts to a more neutral mask. Shenods once, stiffly.

The girl’ssmile turns huge and she reaches a small hand forward to gently brush throughthe ends of Chloe’s red curls. “It’s so pretty,” she says happily, reclaimingher hand after a moment.

“Thankyou,” Chloe smiles. “Your hair is pretty, too,” she says, gesturing to thegirl’s brown pigtails. It makes the girl grin shyly, hiding behind a hand.

As Chloerises from her kneel, Beca again makes eye contact with the elderly woman. Thehostility is back, unmistakable in the set of her jaw and the deep furrowbetween her brows. Absurdly, Beca almost wants to laugh at her; then, sherealizes what kind of influence the little girl will grow up with if the oldwoman truly is her grandmother, and her amusement is replaced with heavyfatigue.

Chloewaves goodbye to the little girl, Beca glares at the old woman, and theycontinue on their way. As Chloe reunites their hands and they reach the tablewith oranges, Beca searches for the other Bellas. She finally spots them whileChloe talks with the orange vendor; they’re almost halfway down the market fromthem, Stacie and Aubrey looking over an arrangement of handcrafted soaps whilethe others wait for them (Lilly is still missing). Beca’s relieved to see Stacieand Aubrey still standing without touching and that no one seems to be payingthem any extra attention, beyond the occasional wandering male eye.

“What areyou looking at?” Chloe asks, her voice suddenly closer than Beca had expected.Beca glances over to see Chloe clutching a small bag of oranges in the samehand already holding the jar of honey.

“Just theBellas,” Beca replies. “Think we should wait for them, then head out? You know,before you buy the entire market,” she manages to tease, trying to hide her owndiscomfort and keep Chloe oblivious of the surrounding hostility aimed at them.

Even asshe speaks, another middle-aged couple walking by glares at them. Beca feelsher face warm and turns, pretending to look over at the Bellas again.

“Oh,sure,” Chloe agrees easily, regaining Beca’s attention. “Let’s look at…postcards?” She points to a spinning rack of the souvenirs standing just a fewstalls down, located in a cramped-looking vendor tent for cheap trinkets andother gifts. In order to get to the postcards, they’ll have to move behind theseller’s table.

Beca nodsand follows her, weaving around people and ducking behind the selling table tofinally squeeze into the little space around the postcards. It’s even smallerthan it had looked from the main area, with cheap tables for key rings andother Louisiana-themed trinkets set up on either side of the revolving postcardrack. The position of the rack means the vendor – a middle-aged man – sits betweenthem and the main walkway of the market.

Becacatches his eye and swallows hard at the frown on his face. From where he’ssitting, he easily could have seen them kiss, and Chloe’s hand is still firmlywrapped around hers. She shifts her weight uncomfortably as Chloe sets honeyand oranges down on the ground, freeing a hand to browse through the postcards.

The mantwists his upper body in his seat to stare at them with blatant aggression.Beca pivots her own body so her back is to him, rather than the side of herface, but she can still feel the heat of his gaze searing into the back of herhead.

It’s unfair, she thinks tiredly. It’s so unfair.

Her eyesstart to prickle and burn with frustrated tears, and Beca blinks rapidly beforeChloe can see any sign of them. She can’t let anything break the bubble Chloe’screated for herself. Beca takes a deep breath through her nose as Chloe rotatesthe postcard rack.

Beca takesa moment to be grateful for that innocent obliviousness, and the sight of Chloeacting so calm and normal makes the unpleasant heat in her eyes recede.

“Hey,dykes,” a rasping, gravely male suddenly voice rings out from behind them. Becaknows instantly it’s the vendor. Her heart clenches.

Chloedoesn’t react. So, Beca doesn’t either.

“I’mtalking to you. Do you hear me? How dare you go out in front of children?” the mansneers. “Showing them your ways. Infecting them.”

At that, amuscle in Chloe’s cheek stands out, and Beca knows she’s clenching her jaw.Beca looks around, purposely avoiding making eye contact with the angry facestaring at her, searching for the Bellas. She spots them still shopping only afew stalls down, near the orange vendor, but they don’t see her and Chloe.

The manrises from his chair to stand purposely between them and the only exit; thesurrounding tables block them from movement.

Chloe’shand trembles as she replaces the postcard she’d been looking at.

“How dareyou flaunt your sin like that,” the man continues, careful to keep his volumeat a level only they can hear. “You disgusting whores.”

Beca hearsherself make a weird gasping noise. She’s never been called a whore before.

Chloe’shand shifts in her own. With a pang, Beca realizes she’s trying to pull away toput some space between them. Instead of letting go, Beca only tightens her gripon Chloe’s hand, holding her in place.

Instantly,Chloe’s eyes – wide and frightened – snap up to meet Beca’s. Cheek musclesstraining with the effort, Beca forces her face into what is hopefully areassuring smile as she runs her thumb over the back of Chloe’s hand. Theaction seems to soothe Chole marginally, her expression relaxing and eyessoftening around the edges.

In thatmoment, Beca wants nothing more than to wrap Chloe in her arms and protect herfrom this man and from the outside world, but she knows that any further signof affection will only make it worse for them.

“Hey, fire-crotch,come here,” the raspy voice drawls.

Theinstant the slur leaves the man’s mouth, Beca twists so she’s standing betweenChloe and the vendor, facing him. Their hands are still linked, Beca’s right inChloe’s left, so the action pulls Chloe close against her back.

A quiet“Bec, don’t,” is breathed into her ear, but Beca doesn’t budge, even when Chloetries to drag her aside. Her eyes dart around, first from the man to thepassing crowd; a few people seem to have heard, or at least understand thatsomething is going on, and have stopped to watch. Over their heads, Becafinally makes eye contact with Aubrey, who’s looking over at them with a frown.Her eyes flick to the man, then back to where Beca stands protectively in frontof Chloe. Her eyebrows lift and she whirls to Stacie.

Relieffloods Beca’s veins at the silent communication, but the man still has themtrapped in the corner.

“I’llpersuade you to like men,” he continues addressing Chloe, lips drawn into a pervertedsmile and hand gesturing obscenely at his crotch. “You just haven’t had onegood enough.” Chloe stiffens against Beca’s back. “You’ll like it. I can makeyou scream more than that little dyke ever does. Ginger, I’ll fu –”

“SHUT UP!”Beca roars, finding her voice. Several more people stop to stare. Beyond them,Aubrey, Stacie, Amy, and Flo push through the crowd, trying to get to them.“Just shut the fuck up and leave us alone.”

The manstraightens his posture and blinks at Beca in surprise. He recovers, though,and with a greasy smile, takes a step forward. “Well, well… come over here andmake me.”

Furycourses through Beca. Her vision blurs and she takes a step forward at the sametime Aubrey and Amy break free of the crowd and move toward the man with firein their eyes, Amy (for some reason) shouting, “I eat Krauts like you forlunch!”

Before anyof them can touch the man, though, Lilly – out of nowhere – launches herselfout from under one of the tables of cheap souvenirs in the tent and tackles himaround the knees. He goes down with a loud yell, but Beca’s moving before shecan see what happens next. She drags Chloe by the hand out of the stall, pastwhere the man and Lilly are struggling on the ground, and back into the mainaisle of the market.

“Go!”Aubrey yells at them, her eyes on the fight.

“We gotthis,” Flo assures, and Stacie and Amy nod.

Beca spinsaround, looking for an exit. For a wild second, she thinks they’re going tohave to shove their way out of the throng of people staring at them. But then,a man looking to be in his twenties moves aside to give them room.

“Get outof here,” he says, not unkindly. “And… sorry.”

Then why didn’t you help? Beca wants to snap back at him,but then Chloe’s urging her forward and they’re half-jogging through the massof people and breaking away from the market. Footsteps follow and Beca glancesover her shoulder, ready to punch someone, but it’s just Stacie making surethat no one threatening comes after them.

They move quicklythrough the park surrounding the market, seemingly without any destination inmind apart from away. As they flee,Chloe leading, all Beca can see is the man’s twisted, hateful face. Hisdisgusting words fill her ears on a loop and she wants nothing more than to goback and join the fight, to cause him as much pain as he’s caused her and Chloe.

Becadoesn’t realize she’s crying until Chloe drags her to a stop beside a parkbench far away from the market, wiping at her face with shaking hands.

“Bec,breathe, you need to calm down –”

“Didn’tyou hear what he said to you?” Beca half-shouts as she shakes off Chloe’s hands,all her fear and anger from the past hour boiling over and bursting out in awild torrent.

Stacie’sstill following them, but she stops running well before she reaches the benchto give them room. She turns, presumably looking for Aubrey and the others soshe can wave them down.

Chloenods, her eyes wide and hands still shaking, half raised as if yearning toreach out to Beca. “Yes, I did hear it, and it was – it’s horrible, I hatedevery second – but Bec, you can’t freak out at –”

“Chloe, he–” Beca has to cut herself off and turn away for a second, both hands runningthrough her hair. She takes a quick breath in an attempt to quiet her voicebefore continuing. “Those – fucking – those people would rip us apart for beinghappy. Did you see that? Did you see any of that fucking bullshit? They hateus, just because we’re happy with each other and we happen to be two girls!”

By the endof the sentence, she’s yelling again, her hands gesturing wildly through theair. In the distance, she can see Amy, Lilly, Flo, and Aubrey exiting themarket; Stacie waves at them to get their attention.

“God,Chloe!” Beca keeps going, anger rolling off of her in waves. “It’s so fuckingunfair that we can’t – that I can’t hold your hand in public without feelinglike someone’s going to attack us or something! I hate that we can’t beourselves here!”

“I know,Beca! I know!” Chloe cries back,tears forming in her own eyes. “It’s horrible! But please don’t yell.”

“Don’tyell?” Beca shouts, her voice cracking. “Don’t yell?! Do you realize if we’d wanted to – Chloe, until a few yearsago, we wouldn’t have been able to get married! Do you know how fucked up thatis? We shouldn’t have to hide what we have to be safe from those assholes!”

Aubrey,Amy, Lilly, and Flo have reached Stacie, and the five of them pace nervously,faces turning between where Beca and Chloe stand and the market.

“Yes, Beca, I do know! It’s completelyfucked up!” Chloe’s chin wobbles dangerously as a few tears fall from her eyes.The sight makes Beca’s own eyes sting again and she wipes at them angrily.

“Of courseI know! I saw it!” Chloe continues, her own voice rising in volume with everyword. “Do you think I didn’t notice the honey seller close her eyes? Or thatperson bump into you? Or all the staring? Or how that – that old crone was ready to personally slit ourthroats for that little kiss? Did you really think I didn’t see any of that?”

“I –”

“Yes,Beca,” Chloe plowed on, “we shouldn’t have to hide, and it’s not fair – but pleasejust listen to me for a second. Okay?” The volume of her voice dropped to alow, soothing tone and she took a step forward, back into Beca’s personalspace.

“Please?”Chloe whispers, slowly bringing her hands up to again wipe at the few residualtears Beca can feel on her face. “Breathe, baby, just breathe for a second.”

Beca takesa deep, shaking breath. Chloe’s stopped crying, but her cheeks are stillflushed with emotion. The careful, tender expression on her face makes somethingsettle in Beca’s chest, calming her. She feels a little ashamed for losingcontrol, but the way Chloe looks at her now tells her that it’s okay.

She nodsafter a moment, wanting Chloe to continue.

“Okay,”Chloe breathes. Her hands fall from Beca’s face to slide down her arms untilshe links their fingertips. “I know we shouldn’t have to hide, and I know it’snot fair,” she says quietly, so only Beca can hear. “But listen to me. We’relucky to even have what we have, Bec. There are… in some countries, being likeus is illegal. Not even marriage, just… being.”

A freshwave of sadness crashes over Beca, but before it can drag her down, Chloe keepsgoing.

“Listen tome, okay? There’s nothing we can do to change other people, and I – I’m sorry.I’m so sorry. But we need to focus on the good. In New York, nobody cares. Wecan be us at home. And the Bellas…”  Chloe lets out a huff that might be a laugh asshe glances toward the others, still waiting quietly. “The Bellas are so happyfor us. Bec, most people don’t care or they support us. Like – that littlegirl. Do you remember that little girl?”

Beca nodsand feels her lips lift into a small smile, already knowing where Chloe’s goingwith this.

“Thatlittle girl,” Chloe says, “saw me kiss you and – and all she cared about wasthe color of my hair. Bec, focus on her. Focus on the guy that let us leave.Focus on everyone who walked by without a second look at us. Focus on the good.”

“Yeah,”Beca sighs, her voice a little hoarse. She closes her eyes to see the shy smileof the little girl.

“Yeah,”Chloe repeats. “It’s getting better. Every day, it’s getting better. Focus onthat.”

Beca drawsa lungful of air through her nose, the last of her anger and anxiety drainingaway. After a moment, she reopens her eyes to see Chloe smiling tentatively ather. It’s her favorite sight in the entire world, and in that second, it’s theonly thing that matters.

“Okay?”Chloe asks quietly, her eyes flicking between Beca’s. “There are some peoplewaiting for us.”

“I’mokay,” Beca replies, then leans in to press her lips briefly against Chloe’s. Maybeit’s a stupid thing to do, but she needs to kiss Chloe right then.

She turns,a little unwilling at first to meet the others’ eyes, but there’s no avoidingthe sympathy in Amy’s and Flo’s expressions and the understanding in Aubrey’sand Stacie’s. Lilly, Beca is pleased to see, looks as stoic as ever and doesn’thave a single scratch on her.

“That wasa sweet tackle, Lilly,” Beca says with a grin. “Thanks for that.”

Lillyshrugs. “Satan has taught me many things,” she whispers.

“Yeah,sorry about not – we should have been there,” Amy says uncomfortably. “We heardyou yell, but…”

“We shouldhave dragged that man behind a car,” Flo insists.

“Well,”Chloe replies, standing beside Beca and smoothing a hand across her lower back,“that’s a good idea, but probably would have gotten us arrested.”

“Speakingof,” Aubrey adds, glancing around nervously, “we probably should go. I thinksomeone did call the cops.”

Becawinces. “Yeah, are you guys okay?”

Amysnorts. “It was all Lilly. She hit him – well, that guy won’t be able to havekids anytime soon.”

“He waslucky we were there to drag her off of him, actually,” Stacie says with aslightly fearful glance at Lilly, who smiles serenely.

“Oh,here’s these,” Flo steps forward suddenly, pulling the honey and oranges Chloehad left at the market out of her bag.

“Thanks,”Chloe takes them, then looks at Beca. “Ready to get out of here? The others areprobably at the hotel by now.”

Beca nods,the tension in her chest finally lifting. “So ready.”

Chloereaches to hold Beca’s hand again, and Stacie reaches for Aubrey, and togetherthey make their way back to Amy’s van, heads held high.

[yesgalaxies]

Maybe This Time (She Gets the Girl) ~ B99 fic

Pairing: Rosa x Amy (pre-relationship) Word count: ~ 850w. Summary: She just fixes Gina, never blinking, until the other woman deigns to look up from her phone "I think I have a crush on Santiago.”

Note: This is my first time writing for this fandom! I apologize if this is extremely ooc. It’s just an idea I got during my lunch break and I rolled with it. 

(I also want to write autistic B99 fic in the future (after I finish the WIPs I’m currently working on). Anything you'd want to read?)

READ IT ON AO3

Rosa enters the breakroom and closes the door swiftly behind her. Without a word, the detective plops herself down on the chair in front of Gina and waits. Rosa doesn’t even acknowledge Terry who’s eating his yogurt by the sink. She just fixes Gina, never blinking, until the other woman deigns to look up from her phone.

“What? I’m a little busy here,” Gina drones, dragging out every syllable a little longer than truly necessary.

As soon as they make eye contact Rosa, blurts out in a complete, emotionless manner, “I think I have a crush on Santiago.”

The sergeant drops his spoon in the sink; metal clanking loudly against the stainless steel.

“Whoo, alright…” Gina perks up; she is definitely here for that. She puts her phone, screen down, on the table and places one hand atop the other, before leaning forward. She stares at Rosa with a creepy, all-knowing smile that makes the detective shudder on the inside.

Before any of the two women could say anything else, Terry retreats to the bullpen, mumbling a barely audible, “Excuse me, there’s somewhere else I got to be,” as he leaves. The sergeant knows better than to stay, lest he wants to be pulled into the conversation against his will. He likes Rosa, he really does, but romantic affair his not his thing.  

“So strong, yet so weak,” Gina says, shaking her head in judgment.

The door slams shut behind him, and Rosa stands up abruptly, sending her chair skidding backward. Coming in here, talking to Gina was a dumb idea. Rosa has absolutely no idea why she has admitted her attraction to Santiago to her of all people. It’s not like they are friends (are they?). Confessing to the captain would have make more sense now that Rosa thinks of it. At least Holt wouldn’t mock her. She knows because they actually have talked about that kind of thing before.

“Rosa, sit down. Please, tell me more, tell me more,” Gina presses, waving her fingers out in front of her.

Rosa rolls her eyes but does sit albeit with reluctance. She crosses her arms in front of her.

“This is ridiculous. I don’t know why I told you,” she says honestly.

“Because, I’m like, the goddess of love. People confess that stuff to me all the time. Now, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but enough about me. You. Amy. That’s what I want to hear about, come on.”

“I saw these fancy paperclips at the store. 5$ for like, twelve of them. I bought them,” Rosa sort of explains.

“Wow, if I had known this story was gonna be so riveting I would’ve asked Charles to get me some popcorn, ”Gina says, getting bored. “You’re gonna have to elaborate on that, girl.”

“Because they made me think of Amy, and I wasn’t even annoyed I was acting so...gross,” she adds, definitely sounding annoyed now. “Then I could picture that pretty smile she gets when she talks about new binder clips, you know, the one that makes her eyes all bright?”

Gina just stares at her, openly disgusted by the words coming out of the detective’s mouth.

“Whatever,” Rosa continues, choosing to ignore Gina’s expression, “you know what I’m talking about. Anyway, it led me to think about her laugh. I like the sound of her laugh, even though laughing is stupid. Point is...everything I hate, I don’t mind when it comes to Amy. I think I even like it.”

Gina shivers. “Damn, Rosa, I think you are in love with Amy.”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t even know if she likes women. She probably doesn’t.” There’s a resolute finality to the way she pronounces those last words. Rosa has spent her teenage years and early adulthood crushing on girls who would never consider her a possibility. She is used to her feelings being unrequited, never takes it personally, but it doesn’t mean it does not suck.

“I can help you find out.” Gina leans back in her chair, turning her head towards the door but keeping her eyes on the detective. She shouts, “Amy! Rosa wants to know if you are into sexy times with sexy ladies.”

Ten pairs of eyes turn into their direction at once as an awkward silence falls over the 99 precinct. Rosa scans the room behind the window; something akin to relief floods through her when she doesn’t see Santiago.

Placing both her palms flat on the table, the detective hisses through clenched teeth, “I am gonna murder you.”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Gina replies sarcastically. “Police. Police.” The red-head rolls her eyes.  “Relax, Diaz. Amy likes you too.”

“Right. How would you know?” Skepticism mixed with a slice of hope colour her voice.

Gina shrugs, her eyes once again glued to her phone, “I basically had the same conversation with her last week.”

“What?”

“That girl is living under the rainbow flag,” she says, raising her hands above her head, forming the shape of a rainbow, “and it got the name Rosa all over it.”

Rosa’s lips twitch upward. She gets up and leaves without another word.

“You’re welcome,” Gina drawls.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Secondary Location: Chapter 11

(Gif isn’t mine)

Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn Nine Nine) x Frank Castle (The Punisher)

Featuring: Jake Peralta, Charles Boyle, Amy Santiago, and Captain Raymond Holt

Jake wakes up in the hospital.

Warnings: Fluff, Fear, Peraltiago

Tags: @acutecupidity @bullet-prooflove @sonnshineandrainbows @decisivelynotsure @philgemmell @ganzfield33 @raccooneleganza

Read: Chapter 10

Jake blinked slowly, alarms beeping faintly as hushed voices of nurses rang in his ears. Faded memories of sights and sounds he couldn’t quite place rushed in and out of his mind as he tried to make sense of all the noise. How could it be so quiet yet so loud at the same time? He blinked a few more times before he could focus on the blurry yet familiar faces across the hospital room. The hospital room… that’s right, he was in the hospital!

Amy’s arms were crossed over her chest, her feet taking turns tapping an insanely annoying tune as he came to. Charles was whispering something to her, both hands on her shoulders as he undoubtedly attempted to comfort his best friend’s wife.

“Boyle?” Jake broke apart their union as he sat up in bed, the pain from his wound suddenly hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“Jake!” Charles squealed, running over to his side. “You got shot! I wasn’t sure if you were gonna make it!”

Amy slowly walked behind Charles. “The doctors assured me that you would.” She took his hand and smiled, the warmth of her palm masking any pain he might have felt earlier. “Welcome back, babe.”

“Thanks, Ames.” He closed his eyes as she kissed his forehead. “What happened? Did Frank Castle shoot me? God, that would’ve been so cool!” He smiled at his wife and best friend. “Only, that wouldn’t make any sense because he seemed like a pretty decent guy. Even though he was super scary and made me pee my pants a little when he looked at me…”

Amy wrinkled her nose.

“You make that face now, but if you met him in person, you’d understand.” He squeezed Amy’s hand and looked down at the white gauze on his chest. “What’s this?”

“You got shot, Jake! I got your text and found you bleeding on the ground in the middle of Central Park!” Amy’s eyes began to glaze over.

“Text? I didn’t send you a text!” Jake sat straight up.

“Maybe Charles sent it?” She looked over at Boyle, raising her eyebrows at him in an odd sense of hope.

“I didn’t take your phone, Jake. I was too busy being manhandled by The Punisher to have time for that.” He smiled wide.

“Manhandled? Please don’t ever say that again.” Jake frowned then looked back at Amy.

“Manhandled! The Punisher is really aggressive, I wonder if he’s like that in bed with Rosa…” Charles winked and walked over to Jake’s bed.

“Eww, gross.” Amy put her head down, shielding her eyes from the imaginary visage of Frank and Rosa with her folded palm.

“Like I said before, Ames, you say that now, but when you meet him in person, it’s like a religious experience. Or the opposite of a religious experience. Would that be an anti-religious experience? Or a demonic experience? Or was it kind of more like meeting the angel of death, but he was like ‘nah, it’s cool man, I’m not here for you’…”

“Jake! All that matters is that you’re alive. The doctor said you can go home in a few days after you finish physical therapy.” She smiled again and rubbed his hand.

“Yes, you’re alive, and so is Isabella Gnucci.” Captain Holt’s voice boomed in Jake’s fragile chest as he stepped into the room.

“What?” Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did he actually get shot in the line of duty? And possibly by The Punisher? And now he’s hearing that the woman who caused all of his pain for him and his friends was going to pull through? That couldn’t be right. He had to be joking, but with Captain Holt it was impossible to tell.

“It’s true. The paramedics arrived at the scene in record time. One might say suspiciously record time.” Captain Holt paused, looking at Jake. “Sergeant Jeffords and I reviewed the dash cam footage of officer Cannavale’s vehicle. You were shot by a fellow officer, not Frank Castle.”

“What? Charles and I were right? Dirty cops?” He smiled at his personal victory, high-fiving Charles before looking back at his Captain.

“This is not something I would be ‘high-fiving’ about if I were you.” He rose his eyebrows as he spoke, glancing at both of them before resuming his original thought. “It is hard to tell if the policemen in question are the only government employees in the Gnucci’s pockets. The eager paramedics seem highly suspicious, so it is in your best interest not to speak to anyone about this case except for internal affairs.”

“What if they bought someone off in Internal Affairs?” Amy sat up straight, arching her back as she looked at her captain.

“I’ve considered that as well. We’ll just have to be hyper vigilant until…” Captain Holt looked at his shoes, not knowing a safe or professional answer to give the members of his squad. They were scattered, scared, and quite frankly, so was he.

“It looked as if you were trying to protect Mr. Castle before officer Cannavale opened fire.” Captain Holt set his hat on the counter. “He then acted in your defense, stealing Boyle’s weapon before rendering him unconscious.”

“Protecting The Punisher? I did that?” He looked at Amy, his eyes wild with excitement. “Can you please call me The Punisher Protector from now on? That’s like the best nickname ever!”

“No.”

“Come on! I got shot in the chest!” He tilted his head and pouted his lips, hoping Amy would give in.

“The Punisher punched me in the face!” Charles interjected. “Yeah! Right after he killed those cops that shot you, Jake; you should have seen it!” Charles stood in front of him, making a gun with his fingers and pretending to shoot two imaginary targets. “He was like…Not in my city!” He growled the last part in a voice Jake didn’t even know he had.

Captain Holt approached Jake’s bed, looking him over to make sure he was okay. “Castle and Diaz are still in the wind. It’s been three days since her initial disappearance at Castle’s apartment. We can only hope he brings her home safe, and that he does it soon.”

“What makes you think he’s stopping her? I mean, dirty cops send you photos like those, I wouldn’t come back and trust the system to put me into witness protection.” Jake looked at Amy for reassurance, holding her hand tightly as the reality of the situation got heavier.

“Nor would I.”

[logan-are-you-okay]

Valentines Day

Alex jumped on Jim’s back, wrapping their arms around his neck.

“Hey Jim! Whatcha doing?” they ask with glee in their voice.

Jim laughed at the sudden pressure, and spins around earning Alex to laugh as well. Ever since they both agreed to going to prom, they’ve basically been acting like newlyweds.

“Oh nothing much… WAIT! Do you want to see out ‘Ravishing’ Principal in his office, and look disheveled?” a small smirk forms on his lips.

Alex gasp, and quickly hops off of Jim’s back.

“You did not!”

“Oh yes we did.”

“SHOW ME!” Alex yells at the top of their lungs.

Jim quickly pulls out his phone, pulling up his downloads app. His twin Jim never let him touch the camera, but he does allow him to download the footage. Alex rests their head on his shoulder watching the recording.

“Oh my god! Was that moaning in the background?!” They say while biting their lip so it wasn’t as loud.

“Yup! If you look close enough, you can see Wilford’s suspenders on the ground.” Jim says, with maybe a little too much enthusiasm.

“You have GOT to put this on Jim News! Imagine how many people will tune in!” Alex suggest.

“One step ahead of you, Alex~.” He purrs.

A small blush forms on their cheeks, he knows that, that voice was basically her kryptonite. However, they quickly push it aside, and grab ahold of Jim’s hands.

“Remember what day it is?” it takes a couple seconds for Jim to respond, and Alex was getting anxious that he might’ve forgotten.

“OH, it’s valentine’s day right?”

“Hell yeah it is!!” They say while wrapping Jim’s arms around their waist.

“AND, I thought that maybe we can take the day slow, at the park?” Alex smiles, please say that he’ll say yes!

“Slow? Who are you and what have you done to my Alex?” he says with a cute accusing tone. It just sent Alex’s heart a flutter.

“Well, it’s just… I know that Jim and your mother Jim have been telling you to break up with me, because I can be a little extreme. SO! I thought that if we go slowly, I can avoid that same lecture from both of them.” They say that last part a little less enthusiastic. The lecture was so annoying to hear, and it happens all. The. Damn. Time.

“Alright, Alright. We’ll do whatever you want.” He says with a reassuring smile. He hated when his family did that to them. He loves Alex’s craziness and how upbeat they were.

“GOOD! Now, if you play your cards right. You may or may not have a special surprise after the date.” Alex says with a wink. A small smirk comes across his lips.

“How are my odds so far?” he purrs.

“Pretty good so far, Mister.”

———

Amanda stood on the edge of the sidewalk on the verge of tears. This wasn’t fair, how could he do this to her?! Almost every day he’s been helping her calm down during school. Not be as scared or anxious, almost opening up to people! ALMOST! Yet, here he was. Standing on the edge of school hugging that, that cannibal! He agreed to go to prom with HIM! Bim fucking Trimmer!

To make it even worse, Principal Damien was standing right there. Almost as if he was congratulating his little pet… Amanda’s fingers clenched into fists. It wasn’t Nathe’s fault. It was Bim’s, everyone knows that Blank doesn’t have a preferred gender, he just wants to be romantically involved with someone before having those thoughts. Doesn’t that dick know that, that his ‘prom date’ was the pet of the principal that KILLS people?! Doesn’t he realize that Blank has been helping her own anxious thoughts?!

Amanda watches as Bim walks the other way with a little hop in his step. Then as Blank walks away with Principal Damien towards the bus stop. From that second, something broke inside of her. She wasn’t feeling betrayed, or sadness… she felt rage. That’s it! Only fucking rage! She broke into a dead sprint, following that Bim Trimmer down the side of the road. Almost instantly, she caught up to him and pinned him against the building that was on the side of the road.

“Stay away from him.” She didn’t yell, but her mouth was full of spite.

“What are you talking about?!” He yells while trying to get out of her grip.

“He’s my Nathe, my Blank!” she then shoves him against the pavement and let’s go of him.

His eyes where full of fear at the sudden interaction, he didn’t even get back up. Amanda just looked at him with eyes full of anger. She then walks away, returning to her natural shy state. Leaving the threat as raw as when it started.

——-

Abigail had her plan in set. It shouldn’t be hard, she has been with him for days on end with musicals and plays. In and out, easy without a hitch. She walks onto the stage after school has ended singing at the top of her voice with the duet that she needs to do in the musicals. She then hears the other part of the duet, then stops while looking to the side. There he was, the man of the hour.

“Why Hello, Roman. How’s your Valentine’s Day been so far?” She says innocently enough.

Roman looks at her with a small step towards Abigail.

“Hello my Female Evil queen, aka my opposition. It’s been fine, no date, but I like just singing at home.” He says while singing that last part.

She just laughs at his attempt of an insult.

“I’m not your opposition. I am you’re a women as you are… a man?” she says while crossing her arms.

“Actually you are, last musical you took the male lead, because you were willing to cut off your hair. I would NEVER give up such beauty.” He says while making an over exaggerated gesture towards his head.

“Well of course! My precious hair-” she flips her hair to the opposite shoulder. “-grows back fast. When yours is slow, and looks like a teenager going through puberty.” She says with a small smirk.

“How DARE you insult my amazing locks?!” he says while running a hand through his hair.

“Well maybe if you stepped up your game, I wouldn’t have to.”

“And what do you mean by that?” he says with a curious tone. FINALLY HER PLAN WAS SET.

“You say you’re fanciful and romantic… but you have no date for valentines, and for prom.” She takes a few steps towards him.

“I am romantic! I just don’t have a date.” He says with an accusing tone.

“Well, you aren’t doing that well.”

“Fine! I’ll prove to you that I am romantic! You shall be my date to prom, AND my date for valentines today!” he says as if he was giving an inspirational lecture.

“Oh really?” she says while putting a hand on her hip.

“Meet me at the theater in five hours, and I will have you in love with me by the end of the night!” he says while wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“Well them, let’s see if you can pull it off.” She says while getting out of his grip, and walking off the stage. You see, to get someone to ask you out in such away, you need to be creative. Thankfully… she was very creative~.

——

Elizabeth just sits at home comparing different romance novels to the recreation of them on movies, seeing which details that they missed during each movie. It’s really pathetic really, they miss very keen details that they need to do to make the movie a success. She would have gone to a valentine’s day for something but! There wasn’t a lot of girls at school, the only Lesbian that she knew was Amy the therapist, but she was ten years older than her. Also, who wants to go out with an adult? GROSS!

@littleteenblog Au