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ihni · 2 years ago

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Every weather is sweater weather in Hawkins

For Harringrove Harvest day 3: ”Claudia Henderson’s hand-knit sweater”

(Read on AO3)

~~~

“I’ll miss you.”

The voice is low, and coming from outside the partly-open kitchen window that is facing the back of the house. Claudia Henderson pauses on her way to the sink with a pile of plates in her hand and listens, because it’s not the voice of any of the kids – they were all accounted for in the living room, ten seconds ago – but whoever’s speaking sounds … sad. And tonight is supposed to be a pre-Christmas celebration; a night of family and friendship and cheerfulness. She doesn’t want anyone to be sad in her house, especially today. That’s why she insisted on cooking for everyone.

“I know,” another voice says, and this one she recognizes as Steve’s. Which means the last speaker must have been his friend, Billy Hargrove. Max’s brother, the same boy that the kids had such a hard time accepting in the beginning, for whatever reason. Claudia can’t imagine why. He seems like a sweetheart to her.

Steve continues, “I wish I didn’t have to go. But mom got it into her head that we’d spend Christmas together as a family, and –“

“No, no, I know,” the voice of Billy Hargrove comes through. “I’m happy for you. Getting to spend time with your parents, in Europe? Sounds awesome.”

“Won’t be so awesome without you. I wish I could take you with me.”

“I know. But it’s only two weeks.”

There’s silence for a while, and Claudia carefully sets the plates down on the formica countertop and takes a step closer to the window under the guise of reaching for the dish soap.

“Are you gonna be okay, Billy?”

There’s the sound of a laugh, and Claudia’s heart twists with how forced it sounds. “Of course, pretty boy. I think I can handle two weeks without you.”

“That’s not … I mean with your dad. Are you gonna be alright at home, if you can’t come to my place? I can leave you a key, if you want?”

“A key to …?”

“To my house.”

Billy’s voice softens when he says, “It’s alright. What reason would I have to go there, anyway, if you’re not there?”

There’s silence again, but this time it comes with the rustling of fabric and the sound of a kiss. It brings a fond smile to Claudia’s face.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Stevie. I’ll be alright. It’s just for a couple of weeks.” Another kiss. “You’ll be back in no time.” Another. “I can’t wait.”

“Me too.”

Someone calls for Claudia from the living room, and she puts down the dish soap. She can save the dishes for later. For right now, she has dinner guests to attend to and some plans to make.

~~~

It is a lovely evening, all around. Despite what she heard through the open window, the boys don’t let anything show when they come back from their “smoke break”. Claudia, naturally, pretends like she is none the wiser, but watches the boys as they hang out with the rest of Dustin’s friends. Steve is dragged right into the thick of things, of course – her Dusty is so fond of that boy, and by extension so is Claudia – and Billy keeps a little to himself but he looks content enough to sit in an armchair with a mug of eggnog (home-made and very good, if Claudia may say so herself; she used a recipe that was handed down to her by her mother) and watch the kids play their games. After a couple of minutes, his sister rolls her eyes at her friends’ antics and goes to squeeze in next to Billy in the armchair. Billy grumbles, but Claudia can’t help but notice that he doesn’t push her away. She also notices that while Billy’s gaze flits around the room, he seems to be watching Steve the most. And well, it is quite obvious to Claudia that Steve is watching him right back.

Boys. Subtle, they are not.

When the evening is approaching its end – when everyone has had their fill and more of food and drink and snacks and good company – Claudia makes sure to hug everyone goodbye before they leave. And if she hugs Billy and Steve a little bit longer than the others, well. She doesn’t think anyone notices.

They do notice when she steals a couple of hairs from their heads though, if the “Ow!” they let out is any indication, but she laughs and apologizes and says that their hair must have gotten tangled up in one of her rings, and it is soon forgotten.

She puts her plan into motion that very night. When the house is empty and the dishes are done and Dustin has gone to bed, Claudia takes the hairs – blonde and brunet – and carefully braids them together. She goes to her yarn basket and picks out a nice dark blue cotton/wool blend, brings out her knitting needles, sits down in her favorite chair in a well-lit corner of the living room, and starts knitting.

~~~

Christmas in the Hargrove-Mayfield house is … Well. Not something to write home about, even if Billy had had anyone left to write to, back in California.

It could be worse, he guesses. Susan loves Christmas, and Billy’s dad usually tries to keep his temper over the Holidays, which means less bruises for Billy. But it also means more tension, as his dad doesn’t have an outlet for all his frustrations over the course of several days. Billy will take what he can get, though. He’ll take these days of peace, knowing it’ll most likely cost him a blow-out some time in the time between Christmas and New Year.

It’s a farce, of course. One they all play along to. Neil pretends that they’re all picture perfect, when he makes them go to Church and have a family outing to the Christmas fair on the Sunday before Christmas. Susan plays along, only too happy to have the kind of husband that she deluded herself into thinking she’d get when she married Neil. Max rolls her eyes, but has learned enough by now not to rock the boat when the sea is calm. And Billy? Billy plasters a fake smile onto his face and says thank you for dinner and offers to help with the dishes before Neil can tell him, and he buttons his shirts almost all the way up and wears a small ring instead of a dangly earring and generally tries to keep his head down.

It’s easier that way.

He draws the line at caroling, though. Luckily for him, Neil doesn’t seem to expect him to join in when he drags his wife and daughter out to bond with some of their neighbors, so Billy gets a whole evening to himself in the house.

If Steve had been home, Billy would have gone over to his place. They’d have made some crappy food together, eaten in front of the TV, kissed a bit … But Steve is not home. Steve is in Prague, and has only been gone for two days.

Billy has been missing him since before he even left.

It’s fine. He’s fine. He managed just fine before he got together with Steve, and he’ll manage now. It’s just. Breaks from school are not Billy’s favorite time. Don’t get him wrong, he quite enjoys not having to do schoolwork, but he doesn’t quite enjoy having to stay in the house for an extended period of time. Back in Cali, he could go to his friends’ houses, or go to the beach or just hang around downtown. Here, he doesn’t really know anyone well enough to show up during the Holidays without there being a party – which there isn’t – and it’s too goddamned cold to just hang around somewhere outside.

To put it simply; when Steve’s not here, he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. He’s got nowhere to escape to. He can’t do anything but keep his head down and grit his teeth and play the part of the perfect son in the perfect little small town family.

It’s going to be a long two weeks.

He has just settled down in the couch – making the best out of his time alone by eating his heated-up dinner in the living room instead of the kitchen; something he is never allowed to do when his dad is home – when the doorbell rings.

He rolls his eyes and ignores it, turning his attention back to the TV. But it rings again. And again.

With a great big sigh, he heaves himself out of the couch and makes his way to the door. If it’s carolers, he’s gonna scream.

He’s only in a T-shirt and gym shorts, so the cold air hits him as soon as he opens the door, covering his skin in goosebumps.

Outside the door is … Dustin Henderson.

Billy frowns. “Max isn’t here,�� he says, and starts to close the door. He is fine with the kids nowadays, and he likes to believe they are fine with him. That doesn’t mean that he is keen to hang out with them.

Before he can close the door, though, Henderson puts his foot inside to stop him. Billy graciously doesn’t slam the door shut anyway, but pauses. “What?”

“I’m not here for Max,” the kid says, grumpily. “Mom sent me. Said to give you this.” He hands Billy a package, wrapped in brown paper and tied together with red yarn. There’s a cardboard tag on it which says Merry Christmas Billy.

Billy takes it, out of surprise more than anything else. “Why?” he asks, dumbly.

“I don’t know,” Dustin says and rolls his eyes, as if his mother’s whims are beyond even his understanding. He indicates his backpack, which seems to be bulging. “But I have more deliveries to make, so. Bye.” Turning his back on Billy, he trudges back down the newly cleared walkway (Billy shoveled it this morning, as a way to keep his dad happy and also to get out of the house), and only belatedly throws a “Oh and merry Christmas, I guess” over his shoulder without even looking back.

Billy doesn’t bother answering. Instead, he closes the door and examines the parcel. It’s something soft, probably clothes of some sort. The paper crinkles when he presses down on it. Part of him wants to open it right away, but it’s only Christmas Eve and there’s something thrilling to know that he will have something to open tomorrow, too. He doesn’t put it under the tree, though. Instead, he goes into his room and places it under the bed. For safekeeping.

~~~

Christmas morning is about what Billy had expected. A slightly stilted family breakfast while they open presents – Billy gets a dress shirt from Susan that he’s pretty sure he’ll never have an occasion to wear, two slightly crumpled ten dollar bills from his dad, and a lighter which actually has a pretty cool skull logo on it from Max – and in the lull that follows Billy retreats to his room for a bit. He puts some music on, but keeps the volume low – it wouldn’t do to interrupt the Christmas music playing from the tinny radio in the kitchen. Then he takes out two more presents. Ones he wouldn’t want to open in front of his family.

The first one is from Steve, who gave it to him before he left with the promise that he would bring back something better from Europe. It’s a small box, the kind that jewelry comes in, and Billy’s heart rate speeds up as he opens it. For a second, he thinks it’s a ring, and he doesn’t know what to do with that. But then he sees that it’s not, not really. It’s a keyring, with a shiny metal lightning bolt attached to it. There’s a note, too. “For your key to the apartment we’ll get when we move in together”, it says. There’s a little heart drawn in the corner, and Billy’s own heart does something complicated in his chest.

Suddenly, he misses Steve so much that he aches with it.

The second present is the one that Henderson brought him, apparently from Claudia Henderson herself. Billy likes Claudia – she is friendly and caring and has never held the fact that he used to be an asshole over him, like the rest of the Party. He flirts with her when he’s over, but she just laughs fondly and leaves him to it without acknowledging it. She’s safe.

But they’re hardly close enough to exchange Christmas gifts. Or so Billy had thought.

Tearing the paper open, his fingers brush over something soft. After pulling it out and holding it up in front of him, he finds that it’s a sweater. A knitted sweater – dark navy blue and simple in design. It looks warm and cozy, but also kind of stylish, and from the looks of it it’s about the right size.

He stands up and goes to stand in front of his mirror. Holds the sweater up in front of his chest. Runs his fingers over it and admires the way the color seems to accentuate his hair and bring out the blue in his eyes. Billy doesn’t usually do knitwear, but Hawkins winters get cold and for something knitted, this sweater isn’t actually that bad.

On an impulse, he pulls it over his head. He’s only wearing a T-shirt underneath it, and is half expecting it to feel prickly – he had a knitted sweater when he was younger that itched like crazy – but it’s not. It’s soft, and strangely warm and …

He runs his hand over his own chest, to feel the texture of it on his skin. It feels like safety. It feels like a hug.

No, really. It feels like a hug. And not just any hug.

Closing his eyes, he can almost hear the whispers of Steve’s voice. Can feel the ghost of his boyfriend’s hands encircling his torso, and feel the warmth from another body at his back, as if he’s being spooned. It’s almost enough to make him imagine Steve’s calm breath on the back of his neck.

He opens his eyes and is almost surprised that he can’t see Steve behind him in the mirror. Because he can still feel him. There’s a smile on Billy’s face that he hasn’t seen in a long time – a smile, not a smirk or a leer. He wonders, absently, if this is how he looks like to Steve.

It’s weird. That a sweater can remind him so much of his boyfriend, when none of them have made a habit out of wearing knitwear. But he can’t deny that wearing this one feels a little like coming home. He decides, then and there, that he’s not taking it off for the rest of the day.

~~~

It helps. Keeping up appearances during Christmas in the Hargrove house is stressful at best, but wearing the sweater somehow makes it more manageable. He doesn’t know how, but it makes him feel less alone, somehow. He even finds himself smiling when he’s helping Susan by setting the table for dinner – because it almost feels as if Steve is there with him, nudging him out of the way and laughing softly in his ear. Unfortunately, Neil sees him and barks, “What are you so happy about?” and Billy has to school his face into something less love-struck.

“Nothing,” he says, shrugging. “It’s just … Christmas.”

He’s in luck. Neil’s face is getting red and he doesn’t look pleased about Billy’s answer, but at that very moment Susan flutters into the kitchen and, having obviously heard what Billy said, sends a blinding smile his way. “I know, there’s just something about the holidays, isn’t it?” Susan loves Christmas. Billy hasn’t been able to relate until now.

He keeps the sweater on for the entire night. While they have dinner, while Billy and Max do the dishes (without arguing, even – Billy goes as far as putting some foam on his chin and pretending to be Santa Claus, which makes Max laugh), and while they all sit down in the living room to watch some Christmas movie.

Neil, Susan and Max sit in the couch. Billy sits in the armchair off to the side. It’s his usual spot for family time like this – always on the outside, never fully a part of the household. Normally, that would make him feel a complicated mix of emotions – because it’s not like he’d really want to sit squeezed in next to Susan or his dad – but today, it doesn’t bother him at all. Because today, he’s wearing Claudia’s home-knit blue sweater, and when he crosses his arms over his chest it sort of feels like they’re someone else’s hands.

He is so distracted by it that he barely knows what goes on in the movie.

When it’s over, Billy knows that his Christmas obligations have been fulfilled, and asks to be excused. Neil grants it, barely looking up, and Billy goes back to his room, where he lies down on top of the covers and looks up at the dark ceiling. Colored lights from the neighbors’ Christmas display light up parts of Billy’s room at random intervals. Outside his window, the snow falls down slowly over Hawkins and covers the world in white.

He rolls over to the side and closes his eyes. Imagines Steve’s arms around him, hugging him close. It feels real enough that he can almost imagine Steve’s heartbeat against his back. It makes him feel safe, and the beat of it lulls him to sleep.

He falls asleep like that, and dreams of Steve.

~~~

There’s something strange about Claudia’s sweater. Not bad-strange. Good-strange. But still. Feeling your boyfriend’s presence whenever you wear it is not exactly a natural thing, Billy thinks.

That doesn’t stop him from wearing the sweater to bed every night. And Steve keeps appearing in his dreams.

~~~

Two days before New Year’s Eve, Neil’s patience for Billy runs out, which is longer than Billy had been expecting. Max is out with her friends, apparently learning how to ski, and Susan is nowhere to be found when Neil finally snaps and lays into Billy for playing his music too loud and leaving dirty dishes in the sink – not caring that it was Max’s turn to wash them.

After, Billy’s got a smarting left side of his face and is tasting blood from where his teeth cut into his cheek, but he looks in the mirror and doesn’t think it’ll leave any marks. Even though he’s on break, Neil is usually aware enough not to leave too much visible damage on his face. Instead he normally concentrates on Billy’s torso, which he’ll be able to cover up with clothes.

Today was no different. Billy got pushed up against a wall while Neil hissed accusations at his face, and then he got a sucker punch to the gut which made him double over. But he barely felt the hits that came after that.

Neil must have been holding back this time, because when Billy lifts up the hem of his sweater (Claudia’s sweater) to inspect the damage in front of the mirror in his room, he finds that there isn’t a mark on him. The pain from the hits has already faded, and it doesn’t hurt at all to breathe or move. He tests it by taking a deep breath, and reaching up and out with both his arms. Nothing. Not a twinge.

Neil must be losing his touch.

~~~

When the break is over, and the Sunday before they’re due back at school, they have another get-together at the Henderson house. The official excuse is to have a nice ending to the break, but the unofficial excuse is to celebrate Steve getting back from Europe and having everyone back in the same state again – Lucas’ family spent New Year’s with relatives in Pennsylvania, and he only returned two days ago.

Billy hasn’t actually met Steve since he got back. He and his parents flew in late last night, and Billy hasn’t dared to call his house in fear of disturbing him or his parents if they’re sleeping. Billy himself has never flown anywhere and hasn’t ever experienced jet-lag, but Steve assures him that it’s the worst.

There is too much nervous energy buzzing under his skin all day, and not even wearing the blue sweater can calm him down. Wearing it today almost itches, with how much he longs to have Steve’s arms around him for real. But they’re not supposed to be at the Henderson house until five.

At four, Max barges into his room. “We going, or what?” She hasn’t met with Lucas in almost a week, so she is almost as anxious to leave as Billy.

Almost.

He doesn’t even scold her for barging into his room, instead he just nods and gets up, grabbing his keys and his jacket as he goes.

They’re the first ones to arrive at Claudia’s house, which he knew they would be since it’s just a five minute drive. Max and Henderson chat loudly while she takes off her winter gear, and then they disappear into Henderson’s room, leaving Billy with Claudia in the hallway. She looks at him, wearing the sweater, and smiles warmly.

Before she can say anything, Billy speaks up. “Thank you,” he says. “For the sweater. It’s … it’s perfect. My new favorite.” He swallows. “Thank you.” It’s just words – not enough to convey how much this one piece of clothing has managed to get him through the last couple of weeks, but he needs to say it anyway. Needs to try.

She seems to get it. Her smile softens. “You liked it, then?”

“I loved it,” he says. “I mean, I love it. Present tense.”

She laughs and opens her arms, and he can’t help himself; he takes a couple of steps and ends up in her arms, with her hugging him and him hugging back. There’s no one here to see him, after all, and despite the strange way the sweater has made him feel embraced for the better part of two weeks, it pales in comparison to Claudia Henderson’s arms around him, and her gently patting his back.

“I’m glad,” she finally says, still smiling, when she releases him. “Now, what do you say about helping me prepare dinner?”

Billy can only nod, and give a shaky smile of his own.

~~~

The others show up, one by one, but it’s not until Billy hears a familiar car in the driveway that he bothers to look up.

“I’m gonna … go smoke,” he says by means of explanation, and leaves Claudia and Mrs Byers and mini-Byers in the kitchen, where they had been helping put everything in order.

For once, he has no intention of smoking. Instead he just gets out on the porch in time to see Steve’s BMW roll to a stop behind Mrs Byer’s little green Pinto. Steve gets out of the car, struggling to bring a handful of bags with him, and Billy’s heart jumps in his chest at the sight of him.

He’s beautiful. His hair is perfect, he’s wearing a new coat that brings out the width of his shoulders, and under the jacket …

“Nice sweater,” Billy says, not even pretending to play it cool as he walks down the steps to meet Steve by his car. Steve turns, and at the sight of Billy his face splits in a grin that makes warmth spread through Billy’s veins. A second later, Billy’s words seem to register, and Steve looks down at himself. Pinches the dark red, almost maroon sweater that he’s wearing under his open coat.

“Thanks,” he says. “It was a gift.” When he looks back up, he seems to notice what Billy is wearing for the first time, and his smile widens. “I see you got one too.”

Billy walks up to him. Reaches up to run his knuckles over Steve’s sweater. “Yeah. Yours is as soft as mine is.” When he looks up, Steve is right there. Looking into his eyes. “It’s gonna sound weird, but it made me think of you.”

“No,” Steve says and reaches out, too. Lets his hand feel along the sleeve of Billy’s sweater, and then up his arm. “Doesn’t sound weird at all. It was the same thing for me, actually.”

“I wore it to bed,” Billy confesses, and doesn’t know why. “Kept dreaming of you.”

“Me too,” Steve breathes. And that’s it. Billy can’t stop himself from dashing forward and pressing a kiss to Steve’s lips, not even caring that they’re in front of the Henderson house and that they can be seen by anyone who walks by or looks out the window.

“I’ve missed you.”

Steve kisses back, almost fervently. “I missed you too.”

And Billy finally, finally – after two long weeks – gets to feel Steve’s arms around him for real.

~~~

In the house, Claudia peeks out through the little window in the front door.

She knows that her particular brand of magic is small-scale. Nothing big, nothing life-changing. She can’t fight monsters or stop time or bring back the dead. But she can bake courage into cookies and bring comfort with her hugs, and with a little bit of effort and a few strands of hair, she can weave love into her knitting, so that two people who are separated by an ocean and a twelve-hour flight can still feel close when they need each other.

And sometimes, that’s enough.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #claudia henderson #harringrove #harringroveweek #harringrove harvest #ihni writes #every weather is sweater weather in hawkins #claudia henderson's hand-knit sweater #honestly she is even more magic for managing to knit two whole sweaters in a matter of days #the woman is a superhero

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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

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Merry Christmas | Fred x Reader

Prompt requested by @n3ssm0nique: Best friends were all that you and Fred were. Right? Or at least that’s what you thought. But will Christmas at the Burrow change things?

Warnings: literally absolute adorable fluff JFC, Fred being adorable, George being George

Word Count: 5.6k words

A/N: I AM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC IT IS SO FUCKING CUTE My first Fred fic, babeyyy!! Weasley Nation Rise! Just an FYI, we are wholeheartedly pretending that the Burrow didn’t get destroyed for this fic hehe.

Flashbacks told in italics.

“Thank you for letting me stay with your family for the holiday, Mrs. Weasley,” you graciously tell the woman in the kitchen who hovers over a kettle, brewing you a cup of tea. You sit on a chair in the dining room, keeping quietly to yourself, hands folded in your lap. The sunlight streams in from the window, warming you up, the tip of your nose still chilly from your travels here. The Burrow was still quiet; it was early in the morning when you arrived, expecting everyone to be up, but you should have known better that only Molly Weasley would be up at this hour. Everyone wanted to catch up on their sleep while on holiday from school.

Mrs. Weasley turned around to offer you the warmest smile, “No need to thank me, dear. You are always welcome in our home. And please, call me Molly.” She pours you a cup of tea in a delicate piece of china that you knew she saved for when guests came in fear that if she used it in her regular rotation of dining wear her children were bound to break it. “Drink up, dear. You must be freezing. The wind is unforgiving this time of year,” she adds, wrapping a blanket around you making you smile at her motherly gesture.

This year you were spending the Christmas holiday with the Weasleys due to your parents work schedule. They were traveling abroad for work which made you upset that this would be the one year you haven’t spent the holidays together. But when you mentioned in passing that you would be spending the holidays alone this year in passing to George Weasley, he insisted that you would spend it with the Weasleys. You told him that the offer was kind, but you didn’t mind going to your aunt and uncle’s house to spend it with them and your cousins, but George said you would have more fun spending it with his family. Which you knew he was right, so you eventually gave in.

Spending Christmas with the Weasleys also meant more time with Fred which made your heart flutter. You had been best friends with the twins since year three, but you and Fred became especially close in your fourth year. Since then, you two were inseparable. But the more time you spent with Fred, you eventually grew romantic feelings for him. You feared that these new feelings towards Fred would ruin your friendship, so you had kept it all bottled up, knowing that it was best to just stay friends and nothing more.

As you sipped on your tea, still wrapped up in the blanket Moly gave you, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Molly hovered over the stove again, this time cooking up a large amount of breakfast foods for the many people who would be dining this morning. “Oh, (Y/N)!” Ginny says when she reaches the bottom of the stairs. “I didn’t know you were coming this early,” she skips over to you, giving you a large hug. You had always taken a liking to Ginny and how outspoken she was. You had to be if you were the only girl amongst the Weasley boys. “Fred! George! (Y/N) is here!” Ginny yells up the stairs. “Wait until they see you. They couldn’t shut up about how excited they were for you to get here. Especially Fred,” she tells you with a wink. Ginny knew about your little crush on Fred after she coerced you to tell her after she told you about her crush on Harry.

After the words fall out of Ginny’s mouth, you hear bumbling and crashing from up the stairs before wild running down the stairs. “Easy, boys!” Molly yells at them while flipping bacon over in the pan. “(Y/N) is not going anywhere! No need to rush,” she laughs at them before looking at you with a smile. Molly knew how much her boys loved you. She shook her head while laughing, continuing to cook up enough sunny side eggs to choke a horse.

George saw you first and a beaming smile came on his face. “There she is!” he yells as you laughed, scooping you up in the biggest hug, spinning you around. “I’m so glad you’re here!” he exclaims as you wildly giggle. He places you down gently before looking over at his mother, “Merlin’s beard, Mum, the poor girl is in a straitjacket the way you bundled her up.” George helps you get out of the blanket, wrapping it over your shoulders lightly. “Much better, right? Now you can give people a proper hug,” he teases, hugging you once more.

“Hey, save some for the rest of us,” a voice calls from behind George. You pull away from George and see Fred patiently waiting to give you a warm welcome. When your eyes meet, your heart instantly starts beating faster and a pink hue makes its way up to your cheeks, warming your face instantly. A small smile dances on your lips as Fred gives you a cheeky grin. “Hey, you,” he winks, making his way over to you.

Fred engulfs you in a hug, picking you up and spinning you around similar to George, holding onto you tightly. He puts you down as you beam, hands resting on his shoulders. “Hi, Fred,” you smile up at him, eyes locked on his, allowing yourself to relax under his touch. The joy on his face was evident, his eyes twinkling with happiness and his mouth drawn into a toothy smile.

The two of you just stood there for a moment before George clears his throat, making his presence still known. “Alright, enough of that you two,” he speaks, knowing very well that the two of you had unspoken feelings for the other. George liked using that as leverage against the two of you when he wanted something to go his way. And this holiday, he was going to make sure that the two of you were going to confess those feelings to each other. “We’re glad that you came for the holiday, (Y/N). It’s gonna be wicked time.”

You pull your gaze away from Fred, peeling your hands away from his shoulders, but Fred keeps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug as you smile. This was fine for best friends, right? “I was just telling your mum thank you for having me. I’m excited that I can spend it with my best friends and their family,” you beam as Fred squeezes your shoulders.

“Breakfast!” Molly calls to the rest of the house. With that, you immediately hear footsteps run down the stairs that are unmistakably Ron’s.

Behind Ron follows Harry, the both of them with major bedhead, still in their pajamas. “When did (Y/N) get here?” Ron asks, raspy with morning voice, rubbing his eyes as he tries to get used to the sunlight.

You shake your head, “Good to see you too, Ronald.” He chuckles as you pull him into a big hug, Ron squeezing you tight. Ron was like your younger brother. He was always pushing your buttons, but in the most playful way possible. “Hey, Potter,” you rustle the other boy’s hair as he laughs, giving you a small hey.

Everyone gathered around the table, taking a seat and a plate, piling mixed breakfast foods onto it. The sounds of happy munching and forks hitting plates filled the air. Light chatter between siblings and friends ensued as you sat and took in the atmosphere. The Weasleys were always so happy and that’s why you loved the family so much. They always managed to make the best out of whatever situation was thrown at them. No matter how dark times got, they were able to find lightness and laughter. When you first became friends with the twins, you were in a really sad place, always very homesick. But when the twins came into your life, they brought so much joy and hope into your life. Now you can’t help but feel out of place when you are not with them.

Fred interrupts everyone’s conversations and speaks, “Since (Y/N) is the guest of the house, sorry Harry, you don’t count anymore,” Harry shrugs, “(Y/N) gets to pick what’s on the agenda for today.” Fred sends you a smile and a wink making you lightly chuckle.

“That seems like a big responsibility,” you say as everyone looks at you.

But before you can say anything else, Ginny grabs your hand and pulls you out of your chair. “I need (Y/N) first to help me with something,” she tells the group. The twins look at her suspiciously, knowing that the youngest sibling was up to something. “It’s girl things. You wouldn’t understand. Right, Mum?” Ginny looks at her mother for support as Molly gives her a thumbs up and wink. “Right then, come on (Y/N),” she drags you to the stairs.

“Ginny, I didn’t even finish breakfast,” you laugh at the girl who has an iron grip on your hand as she pulls up the winding stairs of the Burrow.

Ginny just looks at you quickly before saying, “Ron can finish your plate. Besides, if you think breakfast was a lot of food, just wait until lunch.” With that, you make it to Ginny’s bedroom as she slams the door behind her. The fourteen year old sits on her bed as you slowly take a seat next to her. “So, are you and Fred gonna get together now that you’re here?” she excitedly ask.

You sigh. You wish it were that simple. “I don’t know, Gin,” you softly smile at her. “Anything can happen, honestly.” Ginny rolls her eyes as you laugh. “Give me your brush. I’ll braid your hair,” you tell her. A bright smile finds it way to her face as she grabs her hairbrush from her desk, handing it to you, turning so her back is facing you. Carefully, you brush out her long ginger hair, pushing it away from her face as Ginny happily sighs. “I’ve always wanted a younger sister,” you tell Ginny honestly. You did feel like Ginny was your sister in an odd, yet comforting way. When you first started hanging out with the twins and Ginny arrived to Hogwarts, she kind of latched herself onto you. At first, you were a little shocked, knowing that Ginny wasn’t like this around most people. But for some reason, she trusted you and you with her. Ginny became your little sister very quickly, always coming to you for advice and guidance when it came to school, boys, and everything in between.

“I always wanted a sister,” Ginny retorts, making you chuckle. “Seriously. It can be so much sometimes with all these boys in the house and it’s just me and mum. It’s always nice when you or Hermione visits. It gives me someone to talk to rather than having to constantly hang out with those bloody idiots,” she rolls her eyes, making you laugh.

From outside the door, you hear a hey! The two of you look at the door as Ginny springs to her feet and opens the door to reveal a Harry and Ron eavesdropping on your conversation. “Get out of here, you stupid gits!” Ginny chases them down the hall as the boys laugh wildly. You laugh at the young girl’s antics before she returns into the bedroom. “Do you see what I have to deal with everyday? Drives me mad.”

Ginny returns to the bed, sitting back down as you start to braid her hair. “Poor you,” you tease. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as you braid her long hair, the ginger hair now perfectly styled and swept back from her face. You pat her shoulders, letting her know she’s done as she takes a look in the mirror, smiling at the results. “Like it?”

“Love it,” she looks at you before coming back to sit next to you. “But anyway, I really do hope that you and Fred get together. You’re perfect for each other. And Merlin, he never shuts up about you. It would just make so much sense if you two were together.”

You knew Ginny was right. Fred and you were a match made. The two of you knew how to have a good laugh, but you balanced each other out. He was always there for you when you needed him most. Fred was everything you wanted. But you feared that he didn’t feel the same in contrast to what everyone told you. The fear of rejection from your best friend was a terrifying thought, so keeping things to yourself seemed like the best option. “We’ll see, Ginny. I’m hopeful,” you brush her cheek.

As you and Ginny sat in her bedroom, what you didn’t know was Fred and George were outside, leaned against the wall, eavesdropping on your conversation much more slyly than Harry and Ron. George bumps Fred in the shoulder with a smile as Fred blushes. This just made holiday much more interesting for everyone.

------

The week has gone nothing, but smoothly. Matches of quidditch in the backyard, playing chess, late night bonfires, and long chats all ensued throughout the week and it just made you sad that the holiday would be coming to a close in the upcoming days. You were having so much fun being around the Weasleys and staying in their home. It felt like home to you in a comforting, yet odd way. It felt like you belonged here. Molly treated you like a daughter and Arthur even forgot that you were going to leave at one point, thinking that you had moved in.

But in all of the fun, you and Fred hadn’t got a moment alone. You knew that George and Ginny both were anticipating when you two would finally make a move. Hell, everyone in the house was anticipating when you two would do something. But within the week the most intimate thing that happened was you waiting to use the bathroom and Fred getting startled that you were outside waiting, him still wet from the shower, towel tied around his waist. The two of you just stared at the both, bright red blushed on your cheeks. “I didn’t know you were waiting for the bathroom,” Fred had said. “You could have just come in. You know you’re always welcome too,” he said with a wink making you gulp. And with a wink he was gone, leaving you shocked and unable to speak.

Tonight was another bonfire, everyone in the backyard circled around the roaring crackling fire. The flames were the only things illuminating everyone’s faces. You looked around with a smile, enjoying the night. Ginny sat disgruntled and mad at Ron who sat in between her and Harry, Harry also a little pissed that Ron couldn’t take a hit that he would rather be snuggled up to Ginny rather than his best mate. You giggled at the sight, sipping on your hot chocolate as Ginny just glared at you. With her eyes, she gestured for you to git next to Fred would was just a seat over from you. George was too busy telling Ron a story about one of he and Fred’s many adventures when they first got to Hogwarts, Ron completely enthralled. Sit next to him, Ginny mouths to you.

Absolutely not, you mouth back, eyes darting to see if Fred was watching you. He just stared at the fire, legs kicked up resting on a log, his hands behind his head. I’m not gonna make the first move.

Ginny rolls her eyes. Just do it, she mouths before returning her attention to George and his story. You sigh, looking at your almost empty mug of cocoa. You look at Fred longingly, wanted to be cuddled up next to him under the blanket that rests on his lap. You imagined being able to rest your head on his shoulder, his strong arms wrapped around you, protecting you as you felt safer that ever. He’d kiss the top of your head before resting his head on yours, enjoying the way your body melted into his. As you get lost in your imagination, you realize that Fred has caught you staring at him. Your breath hitches in your throat and you blush, unable to look away from him.

Fred chuckles and smiles at you softly watching you as you are curled up in a ball on the chair just a few feet away from him. Your lips were perfectly pink and the tip of your nose a little red from the windchill in the air. The jumper you wore was pulled over your hands as you cradled the mug in your hands. You looked absolutely adorable as a small smile was on your lips. Fred sighed as you giggled a little at him. He just shook his head at you jokingly before dropping his left eye in a wink.

“I’m gonna go get more cocoa,” you announce to the group, but your eyes don’t leave Fred’s as if you were just directing the statement to him, as if you were telling him to follow you. You rise from your chair and make your way inside. There are small whispers being exchanged behind you that sound like words of encouragement as you smile to yourself before going inside. Shortly after, you hear footsteps follow you inside. As you go into the kitchen and pour yourself more cocoa, you turn your head to see Fred beside you. “Hey, tiger,” you tease him.

He laughs at your nickname for him, “Hey, gorgeous.” Your heart flutters, knowing that he’s been calling you that for years, but now when he says it, it has new meaning to you. “You alright?” he asks.

You nod, happily, turning to face him, ignoring the task you originally came in here for. “More than alright. The week has been lovely,” you tell him as the two of you walk aimlessly around the lower level of the Burrow. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay with you and your family for Christmas. It means the world to me,” you genuinely tell him.

Fred smiles, “Of course. There was no way George and I were gonna let you spend it alone or with some weird family members.” You play with the cuffs of your jumper nervously, a thousand thoughts dancing around in your head about where this conversation was going to go. The two of you come to a halt as Fred speaks, “You mean a lot to me, (Y/N).”

His confession makes your heart speed up. “You mean a lot to me, too, Fred,” you confess to him, looking deep into his eyes. “Truly.”

“I don’t think you quite understand how much you mean to me. You make me feel really happy, (Y/N),” Fred tells you, taking a step closer to him. The two of you were so close that you could hold a magazine between the two of you. You can feel his breath on your cheek as you look up at him, biting your lip gently. “I really don’t know what I would do if we had never met that day at Hogwarts,” he recalls making the two of you chuckle. You remember when you met in the common room, them mid prank on a poor first year student as you had joined in on the prank. From that moment on, Fred was infatuated with you, much to your surprise. “And now we’re on our last year at Hogwarts and I’m just scared that I won’t be able to see you as much as I’d like to.”

Impulsively, you take his hand in yours. “Don’t say that,” you shake your head. “I’ll see you all the time. I’ll make sure of it. I can’t imagine living life without you, Fred, honestly,” you tell him, speaking so raw and genuine from your heart. You wanted to kiss him so badly, comfort him that there was no way he was going to get rid of you. He had you and there was no way that either of you were letting go of the other. You were so deeply connected to other that the notion of losing each other was nauseating.

Fred smiles gently before looking upward, you following his line of sight. Above you dangles a small bunch of mistletoe. Your heart stops and then starts beating impossibly faster. The both of you look back at each other, a little smile dancing on both of your lips. This was a good excuse as ever to share a kiss, you could just blame it on the mistletoe. “Mistletoe,” Fred breathes out with a light laugh, you joining. “I hate breaking traditions,” he teases you as you laugh.

“I hate nothing more than breaking a tradition,” you tease back.

Fred looks at your lips and then back at your eyes, waiting for you to do something. Gently you nod as Fred leans in closer and closer. It was like this whole scene was in slow motion as you both lean in, waiting for your lips to collide gently. You couldn’t believe this was finally happening after years of waiting and longing. You were going to kiss Fred Weasley.

“Oh, sorry,” a voice interrupts you both as you jerk away from each other. “I didn’t know I was interrupting something,” you look over to see Ron awkwardly standing in the doorway before darting away back to the group outside as the group yells at him, Ron yelling back he didn’t know in defense.

Fred huffs, “What a bloody moron.”

The moment was gone. It was over. Your chances of getting that kiss from Fred was gone. You both knew it. The two of you looked at each other sadly as you sighed. You gave him a look that said I wanted you to kiss me. He gives you a sorry look as you just stand there for another moment. “Stupid Ron,” you break the silence, making Fred laugh.

He pulls you into his side, wrapping an arm around you. “Come on, the fire is still burning,” he tells you, walking outside. “I’m not letting you get away so easily, no matter how much of an idiot Ron is,” he whispers in your ear, making you blush. What a flirt.

As you return to the group, everyone stares at you two as you walk back together. “Nothing to see here,” Fred dismisses them all as Ginny groans loudly. Fred pulls you next to him on the loveseat that was outside, not wanting you away from him now that Ron disturbed your moment. “You really are a moron though, Ron.”

Ron furrows his brows and raises his arm in defense. “What’s going on?!” he says, completely confused. Was the boy really this clueless?

“Oh, you’re bloody joking,” George says, throwing a pillow at Ron, everyone joining in, hitting Ron with a pillow, everyone erupting with laughter as Ron tries to defend himself.

Although the moment was ruined between you and Fred, this moment was heartwarming as you all picked on Ron before returning to watching the fire burn out.

-----

Two days later, Christmas morning rolled around and Ginny jumped on top of you waking you up, excitedly. “Merry Christmas, you animal!” Ginny hugs you as you groan, slowly waking up. “Mum made pancakes and there’s presents downstairs! Come on, (Y/N)!” she pulls your hands up and out of bed.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you laugh.

Suddenly, every Weasley is up and down the stairs in seconds as everyone takes their usual seats around the table. Arthur proudly shows off his muggle radio and explains that muggles listen to Christmas music this time of year, him tuning it until pleasant music emits from the small box. Molly plates everyone a large stack of pancakes dosed in maple syrup. You watch as Ginny squeals in excitement, sitting herself down next to Harry as you watch with a smile.

“Merry Christmas,” George gives you a hug.

You smile at your best friend and squeeze his torso. “Merry Christmas, Georgie.” He rolls his eyes at the nickname you coined for him as you laugh. You see Fred at the bottom of the stairs as he makes his way to you. “Merry Christmas, Fred,” you smile.

Fred pulls you into his chest for a bear hug as you sigh in him. “Merry Christmas, darling,” he whispers into your hair, placing a gentle kiss on the top. You can’t help, but blush at the gesture before the three of you take your seats at the table. “Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast? Merlin, mum, you really pulled out all the stops this year,” Fred teases his mother.

Molly smiles, “This Christmas is special this year so that warrants a special breakfast.” Molly sends a wink your way as she hands you a plate. “Merry Christmas, darling. Eat up.”

Everyone munches on the delicious plate of breakfast food, complimenting Molly on how extraordinary the meal was. And that’s when the presents start to come out. Molly and Arthur hand out presents to each of their children as the impatiently unwrap them. Each Weasley gets a hand knit sweater with their respective initial on them as you giggle as Ron pulls his over his head. It was absolutely adorable that they all had matching sweaters. “And don’t think we forgot about you two,” Molly speaks as she hands you and Harry boxes.

“Oh, you didn’t have to, Molly,” you tell her as she insists to open it. When you open it, you see a navy sweater with your initial on the front. “Oh, I love it!” you cheer. “Thank you so much,” you beam. You really did love it, immediately pulling it over your head to wear it over your pajama top.

Molly claps as you do so. “Now, you’re officially a Weasley. No need to marry Fred anymore,” she teases as Fred nearly spits out his pumpkin juice. “What?” she asks. “Did I say something wrong?” You just blush a wild shade of crimson that matches Ron’s sweater as Fred excuses himself, making George let out a wild laugh.

As if the timing couldn’t be anymore perfect, an owl flies through the window with a letter in its mouth. Arthur gets up and retrieves the letter from the owl before it flies away. “It’s for you, (Y/N),” he smiles, handing you the envelope.

You furrow your brows, not knowing who it could be from. You rip open the seal of the envelope and peel the letter open which reads:

Dearest (Y/N),

Merry Christmas, darling. We miss you so much. We are so upset that we cannot be with you on your favorite holiday. But rest assured that we will see you soon after our trip comes to a close. We have beautiful gifts for you from the places we visited and we cannot wait to give them to you. Paris is truly the most beautiful place on Earth.

We hope that you are having a grand time with the Weasleys. Give them our love and gratitude for hosting you.

We are so proud of you and everything you have done at Hogwarts, love. You are truly remarkable. We love you so much and are so excited to be reunited with you soon.

All the love in the world,

Mum and Dad

XXOO

“It’s from my parents,” you tell the group with a smile as everyone softly smiles. You look at the Polaroid pictures that they attached in the letter. Your parents are smiling in front of the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Louvre. “They’re in Paris. They send their love and gratitude to everyone. They said that they love me and miss me and they’re proud of me...” you trail off as tears start to form in your eyes. A lump starts in your throat and you become very sad and embarrassed at how you are reacting. You just miss your parents so much. “I’m sorry could you excuse me for a moment?” you ask as everyone nods, completely understanding how you feel.

You rise from the table and move into another room of the house, letting the tears slowly fall from your eyes. You are sure not to make any sounds, too embarrassed that you’re even crying in the first place. Sucking in a shaky breath, you try to collect yourself, squatting low, burying your head in your hands.

As you breathe in and out shakily, you feel a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. “Hey, shhhhh, come here,” Fred’s voice says as he pulls you into him, as you cry into his jumper that his mum made. “It’s alright, darling, it’s alright.” He sits on the floor as you rest next to him, holding onto him tight as if he would leave you. But Fred wasn’t going anywhere. “I know you miss them, but they are right. They’ll be back so soon. You know that they love you and they’re proud of you. What’s not to be proud of? You’re brilliant,” he tells you, rubbing your back in circling, gently comforting you.

Moment pass and you slowly pull away from Fred, looking at his now tear stained sweater. “Oh, man, I’m a mess,” you wipe your tears away as Fred shakes his head, brushing your hair away from your face. “Sorry about your sweater, I can clean it up.”

“I like it better like this,” he says with a smile. You just laugh at him as you sniffle. “I have something for you,” he tells you as you furrow your brows.

He pulls a small box out of his pocket. You sigh, “Fred, I thought we weren’t buying gifts for each other this year. We said we were saving money to go on a trip after graduation.”

Fred shakes his head, “I couldn’t resist.” You slap his arm teasingly. “Open it.”

You slowly open the small box and your eyes widen. Inside is a small golden locket engraved with beautiful detailing. You open the locket and inside is a picture of you and Fred from last year in the common room, laughing on the couch together. The memory brings an instant smile to your face. This was the sweetest, most thoughtful gift anyone has ever bought for you. “Fred, I don’t have any words. This is beautiful,” you tell him.

“You like it?” he asks, nervously.

“Do I like it?” you laugh. “I love it. Thank you so much,” you tell him. “Could you do the clasp?” you ask, turning around and handing him the necklace. Carefully, Fred places it around your neck and clasps the necklace. You hold the locket in your fingers as you smile at him. “Why did you do this?” you ask, furrowing your brows.

Fred nervously gulps. “Because...” he starts. “You know, (Y/N)...like I said the other night...we’re close and I really cannot see myself without you.”

Your heart flutters as you look around only to recognize that you and Fred are in the same spot as you were the other night from the bonfire. Mistletoe dangles above you again and Fred follows the sightline. He stops talking and looks at you. This time no one was going to stop from you from doing this.

In this instant, you lean in and press your lips to Fred’s, connecting you two in a sweet kiss. At first, Fred is a little shocked, but takes no time in kissing you back, his hand cupping your cheek, pulling you closer to him. You hands cup his face as your lips move in sync with each other. His lips taste of syrup and you smile into the kiss. It just felt so right like this was how your first kiss was supposed to go.

Slowly, you pull away from the kiss, searching his eyes for what he was going to say. But for the first time in forever, Fred is speechless. “I hate breaking traditions,” you tease him, making him chuckle.

Fred shakes his head and kisses you again, this time more excited and passionate. His arms wrap around you, letting you know that you aren’t going anywhere. You were his now and there was no way he was letting you go. Not like you wanted to. This was home. The kiss is gentle, but loving and passionate. Your heart is beating so fast and your mind is reeling. This felt like a dream.

You pull away again from the kiss, pressing your forehead against each other. “Just so you know,” Fred speaks, “I was going to kiss you whether there was or wasn’t mistletoe.” You giggle at his antics, knowing that he was telling the truth. “This does mean you’re my girlfriend now, right?” he asks, genuinely asking, making you laugh.

“I hope so, Weasley,” you tell him. “That’s my present to you.”

He jokingly pumps his fist in the air. He places a quick kiss to your lips again. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” he whispers to you.

Smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt, you whisper back, “Merry Christmas, tiger.”

Fred pulls you up from the floor, giving your hands a squeeze. “And now to face the taunting,” he warns you. “Be prepared. But on a brave face. This is just the beginning. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into dating a Weasley.”

The two of you emerge back into the dining room, hand in hand making Ginny cheer and George stand up, clapping. “It’s a bloody Christmas miracle!” he yells, making you laugh as Ron just sits there, absolutely lost at what is going on, mouth full on pancakes. You blush wildly as Fred pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead. “Welcome to the family!” George mockingly yells, embracing you and Fred in a dramatic hug.

In this moment, you have never felt more at home. It was the most wonderful Christmas you had ever had and you couldn’t wait for more.

#fred weasley #fred and george #fred and goerge weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader imagine #fred x reader imagine #fred weasley x muggle!reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x female reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine

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heavenunderthemoon · 4 years ago

Note

can we please get more jj and daughter!reader? it’s genuinely such an amazing series and i’d love to read more about them :)

JJ x daughter!reader content!

Move-Ins and All-Nighters

"There's a boy in my bed."

You turned over, sleep clawing at your eyes.

There, in your bed, clad in an old and fading FBI t-shirt and holiday pajama pants (even though it was mid-may) laid your mother. Her eyes were settled onto the ceiling, your fan creaking and shuttering as it ran. It always did that, some kind of screw loose that made it clatter the way it did and the sound soothed you to sleep, thankfully, because god knows the image of your mother with any kind of tool to fix it in her hand simply did not fit.

The images of your dream, Harry Potter singing opera at a talent show, were fleeting and you groaned, shoving your face into your pillow with a 'humph'.

Will had moved in that day- or yesterday? You were too tired to check the clock but judging on the darkness you could only assume it was well into the early morning, your mother too jittered from the sudden moving in of her boyfriend to sleep. She had been practically bouncing all morning, the pregnancy, sudden and shocking, had made the couple move far faster than they had planned. Will had agreed to move in with the two girls and JJ had practically been flying ever since, making way for the man in their tiny three-bedroom house.

"He doesn't snore, he just breathes really loud. Like, really loud. I think he has asthma or something, and there was a tiny lull for like two minutes where I thought he was dead but I think-"

You groaned again, this time flipping onto your back and joining your mother in watching your creaky, shaky ceiling fan shudder and moan as it whirred in circles. "You're killing me, smalls." Your voice was a tired whisper, but it wasn't irritated. No, you couldn't be irritated because you knew just how stressed your mother was.

Your mother was stressed because of the new baby, her hand constantly flying to the non-existent bump throughout the day, throughout the night, throughout the morning, as if checking to make sure the baby was still in there. She was stressed because of Will, of what the baby meant for them, of what it meant for you and her. The two of you had only ever had the two of you. The two of you, which had been incredibly difficult and terrifying for her when she was just a pregnant teenager leaving her small town home for the first time, a baby in her belly and a father that wanted nothing to do with her. Difficult when she was the only one on diaper duty or school drop-offs, or first days of school. But had become her favorite thing in the world because you were something that she had never planned for but everything she was thankful for. A good kid, a great kid, a best friend who knew her and that she knew like the back of her hand. Someone she could climb into bed with at four in the morning because her...boyfriend? Baby daddy? Her Will, was snoring and she had never had someone stay in her house, sleep in her bed, and promise to be there to take half of the diaper duty, school drop offs, or first days. She had never had someone who said they would be there unless it was you and the idea of an outsider joining the Jareau girls was too foreign for her mind to understand alone and so here she was, in your bed.

"He cooked chicken." Your mother said absentmindedly, hand flying down to rub her belly.

You wondered if it would be a boy or a girl. You and Penelope had bets, she bet that it ws a boy, but you bet it was a girl. Honestly, it was just hope that it was a girl because you had no idea how to be a big sister to a boy. Although, you also had no idea how to be a big sister to a girl, in fairness, but you were a girl, so you figured the learning curve was a bit smaller.

"He did." You agreed. "Little spicy for my taste, but I'll get used to it." Your mind flitted back to dinner, the sight of Will Lamontagne in your kitchen, using your stove, searing chicken not something you had ever imagined. To be fair, you hadn't imagined him doing a lot of things in your kitchen, partly because your mother and you hardly ever used your kitchen. She couldn't cook for the life of her unless it was microwavable or instant pot and that was one of the many things you had inherited.

"He washed dishes- he took out the trash." She continued absently.

You nodded with a sigh. "Mhm."

"My bathroom smells like boy. Like boy soap and boy shampoo-"

"Ah, well at least he uses different bottles. If he used the three in ones I would've had to tell you to kick him out, that's a non-negotiable."

Your mother remained in her trance, her thoughts raging about her brain like a balloon deflating.

The fan teetered on.

"He put a book on his nightstand, in case he can't fall asleep. You know what genre he reads? Non-fiction. It was about WW2. Who reads about World War 2 when they're trying to fall asleep?"

"Well, to be fair, history class provides me a pretty good nap time and I wouldn't say that it's too bold of an assumption to claim that the content serves as an effective lullaby."

She turned, a puff of air being released as she did so. With as dark as it was in the room you could hardly see her, in fact you couldn't. Not really. Only the outline of her, but your memory filled in the blanks. Your memories filled in her face, her eyes which were probably wide as saucers, lips turned into a frown, one that turned down more with stress, eyebrows knitted, a face of panic, of terror, of uncertainty.

"I finally get what Penelope means when she says she doesn't like change."

You nodded. This change was...weird. Will had come to your house before this. He had visited on weekends, showed up to soccer games, even grabbed you from school a couple of times. He was nice and reliable and...strange. Strange, because, suddenly, you weren't all your mother had. Sure, she had the BAU, she had always had her team. The team that had watched you grow up. Spencer who helped with your homework and told you bedtime stories- stories that you forced him to make up because you knew that he could recite every book he's ever read in its entirety without breaking a sweat and you told him that that was 'cheating'. Bedtime stories had to be made up, you had told him, and he obliged because he was Spencer. Or Morgan who showed up to your games when he could and had gotten kicked out on multiple occasions for yelling at the refs. Penelope who played Princess with you and saved every single drawing you had ever made her, or Hotch who had let you dance on his feet. Elle who sang to you when you had begged her, or Emily who made it her life's purpose to show you all the good music and movies. Your mother had a village, but she had never had a single person.

A person for her. A person who you watched her slowly trust. Trust to grab you from school, or go to your games, or sear chicken in your kitchen. You watched her make room in her closet for him, and clear out underwear drawers, and you knew that he was there. He was there and he was good.

"This change is good, though." Your hand went down to grab hers. "When I was growing up, I had you, and I had you all to myself, and that was pretty amazing. But this baby is gonna get to have you and Will, and Will is...well, he's a dork."

Your mother chuckled.

"He likes to read history before bed and sings along to the radio when he drives. He likes strawberry ice cream over chocolate, and his favorite Christmas movie is Die Hard. He's a weirdo, Mom, but he's good, he's here, and he's willing to put up with us, that's a pretty hard sell, if you ask me."

Her hand squeezed yours, a lessening of the tension and you knew that whatever you were doing was working because when she next spoke it wasn't as stressed. "We're not that bad."

You snorted. "We talk through every movie, go through four tubs of ice cream in a week, and last week, for three days straight, we spoke only in transatlantic accents just to see what it would be like. We are annoying and if he didn't run within the first two minutes of living with us, then he's not going anywhere."

The pillow case ruffled as she nodded, and you gave a tired smile at the tiny victory. "Now, go be a big girl and sleep in your own bed, I have a Geometry test in five hours."

#Jennifer Jareau x daughter! reader #jennifer jareau x reader #Jennifer Jareau #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds

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marvel-sluts · 4 years ago

Text

Christmas with the avengers

pairing: avengers x teen!reader, Peter Parker x reader.

warnings: maybe some swearing?

summary: your first Christmas with both the avengers and with Peter, what could possibly go wrong?

a/n: merry Christmas everyone! this is absolute shit but I wanted to write something Christmassy, I hope you all like it!

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

you hadn't been part of the avengers long when you started dating Peter, causing this to be your first Christmas with the both of them.

you get dressed in the matching Christmas jumpers you and Peter both had, because apparently it was tradition in the avengers tower to wear Christmas jumpers on Christmas day, so you had both agreed to wear the matching jumpers. (see gif)

you pulled on a pair of jeans and tied your hair up in a ponytail, with a small peice tinsel wrapped around your hairband. you did light makeup with f/c (fave colour) of eyeshadow.

you walk out of your room in the avengers tower and bump into Thor and Loki, heading to the kitchen.

"hello lady y/n, you look ravishing. I love your jumper." Thor said smiling at you.

"thanks Thor, you look good too." you say smiling at him.

"I like the tinsel" Loki muttered to you on the way past. you and him had become quite close over the past few months you have spent at the tower, but it still shocked you that he would say something like that with Thor around. normally he was a lot quieter in the shadow of his older brother.

"thanks loki." you say cheerfully, getting into the lift with them.

when the three of you get to the living room and kitchen you go your separate ways. Thor to the kitchen, no doubt to raid the cupboards of poptarts and you and Loki to the living room. you take a seat next to your boyfriend and smile at him.

"you look amazing" Peter says, looking at you lovingly.

"so do you." you say giggling.

"I know" he said, pretending to do a hair flick. but failing miserably and accidentally hitting himself in the face.

you laugh at him, and he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes that you can never resist. "sorry love" you say before kissing his cheek where he hit himself.

both of you head to the kitchen and after collectively deciding on cereal for breakfast, you go back into the living room with bowls full.

just as you both sat down on the sofa at your previous spots, Tony came in with Morgan trailing behind him, also wearing matching Christmas jumpers. "Merry Christmas everyone!" he says, sitting next to Steve and Bucky on the sofa.

Morgan runs over to you and attemps to scramble onto your lap. after realising what she was trying to do you help her get up and she sits on you happily.

Morgan had begun to like you in the short time you had been here, you were good with kids and would often play with her causing you two to become immediate friends. she was your little partner in crime and the pair of you would often adopt Loki to help prank Tony and Steve.

"I know its Christmas but there is a lot to get done, Pepper, Wanda and Bucky are on cooking duty first and then we will rotate, check this peice of paper that was kindly provided by Bruce for the timetable. everything else should have been done already."

"I can't wait to see what I got from Santa!" Morgan squealed excitedly, eyeing the pile of presents under the tree.

"I'm offended" you say dramatically, "are you not exited to see what I got you?" you asked laughing.

"yep, I'm exited for all the presents!" she said before getting off of your lap and running into the kitchen to 'help' with the cooking.

after half an hour of chatting and crimes cookies Nat decided she was bored.

"who wants to play Christmas games?" she shouts holding up a box. you glance at the box before bursting out laughing.

"o-deer! really?" Sam said, laughing at what happened last time you played it.

"do you remember Rhodes last time, he looked like he was going to take off." Scott said laughing.

"erm, excuse me. but who won?" Rhodes said pointing to himself. "this guy, so don't get ahead of yourselves." he said.

"I personally think I'm gonna win this time" you say sticking your tongue out at Rhodes.

"not gonna happen doll" Bucky called from the kitchen.

"just watch me win" you say.

everyone comes in from the kitchen and takes a break from cooking to play.

you all take turns having the antlers and throwing the hoops, when both you and Peter had finished you both collapsed on the sofa. he put his arm around you and you nestled your face in his chest, breathing in his warm sent.

after Nat announced that the winner was Wanda (everyone thinks she used her powers, although she swears that she didn't) you changed around kitchen duty, next up it was you, Peter and Steve.

Vision had mysteriously disappeared from the cooking rota, despite the fact that Wanda had been helping his cooking skills he couldn't seem to get any better.

you got started on the brussel sprouts, how anyone could eat them was beyond you but apparently some people *cough* Sam *cough* liked them.

Peter had gotten started on the stuffing, making the mixture and rolling it into balls. whenever he would walk past u he would kiss you on the forehead, or whatever part of you that was facing him at the time. Steve was watching this behaviour and wasn't sure to find it cute or disgusting.

Steve was getting busy with the mashed potatoes and checking on the turkey every once in a while.

a gasp echoed through the kitchen as you burnt your hand on the oven attempting to check on the turkey per Steve's request.

"what happe-" pete asked trailing off when he say u nursing your hurt hand, "oh baby, are you okay? did you burn it? don't worry it will be okay. I'll get some ice for it" he said, completely freaking out.

you watching him frantically searching for some ice for a minute before saying "don't worry petey, it's fine. it's only a burn. and it doesn't hurt that badly" you say giggling at how concerned he was.

"but what if it gets infected? or if it swells up?" he asked finally managing to find some ice and putting it on your hand.

"honestly, you kids." Steve says rolling his eyes and chuckling. "are you sure you are alright y/n?" he asks, his eyebrows knitting in concern.

"yeah I'm sure" you say, smiling up at him.

"okay" he says checking on the turkey himself.

you checked the clock "our shift ended five minutes ago! those little fuckers didn't tell us!" you say taking off the apron. you go into the living room and find Morgan and Loki laughing on the sofa.

"I'm truly sorry Lady y/n, it was my shift next and I didn't want to do it." Loki said, smirking at you.

"your not sorry" you say.

"no, your right, I'm not" he said, grinning again.

you roll your eyes and resume your earlier position on the sofa, Peter sitting next to you.

"secret santa!" came a shout from the doorway, you looked up to see that it was Tony. he was carrying the secret santa presents in his arms and Clint and Rhodes were behind him also carrying armfuls of presents.

Morgan jumped up from her seat next to Bruce squealing excitedly.

"don't we have to wait for our special guests to get here?" Pepper asked eyeing Tony.

"oops I forgot, yes we do" Tony said putting down the presents bashfully.

"what special guests?" you ask, having not heard about this at all.

"you will see" Tony said, with a shit eating grin.

about ten minutes later a knock was heard at the door.

Vision gets up to answer it and you soon here a shout from the doorway.

"do not fear, Christmas is saved. for the overrated king of wakanda and his amazing and beautiful genuis sister is here!"

"SHURI!" you and Peter both yell in unison.

"it is I" she said flicking her hair (and actually succeeding) before running to hug the two of you.

"not that anyone has noticed but I'm also here" Doctor Strange says from the doorway.

Tony and Bruce look up from talking to T'Challa and go over to shake hands with Strange.

"presents now?" Morgan asks, tugging on Tony's trouser leg.

"yes sweetie, go over and open some of them." Tony says. patting her on her head and sending her on her way.

everyone gathers around the tree and watches Morgan open her presents from santa. when she has finished you give her a wrapped package with some art supplies in. she jumps up and hugs you with a massive grin on her face.

then someone (you guess Scott but your not sure) yells secret santa.

everyone gets the presents they had gotten for their secret santa, you had gotten Thor and after asking for help from Peter you ended up making him something. when it was time for you to give thor his present you presented a wrapped up package. it was a knitted jumper with tiny hammers and lightning bolts on it.

he opened the present with a massive grin on his face and pulled you into a bone crushing hug.

"thanks you Lady y/n, I couldn't have asked for anything better."

"your welcome Thor" you said, smiling up at him.

when everyone was done with the secret santa, you had received a few scented bath bombs and a silver snake ring from Natasha, some people trickled out to go and help in the kitchen.

you handed Peter a package wrapped in red paper, "here you go Petey" you say.

he takes it and opens it, you had given him a watch with the millennium falcon on the inside of it.

"thanks baby, I love it!" he says hugging you tightly and kissing you square on the lips. "you will get yours tonight" he says with a grin.

not even five minutes had passed when a yell was heard from the kitchen.

"you idiot, you were meant to take out the turkey while we were opening the presents!" Sam yelled.

"well its not my fault that the timer didn't go off!" Clint yelled back.

"FRIDAY, did you set the timer like I asked you to?" Sam asked.

"you never asked me to set a timer sir" FRIDAY replied.

"shit" Sam muttered kicking the table in frustration.

after a few minutes of chaos Steve managed to find a ham in the back of the fridge, everyone decided that the ham was the best thing to have so you cooked it up and it didn't get burnt.

everyone gathered around the table, the food was delicious, and you almost couldn't tell that there wasn't a turkey.

"hey Bucky, could you pass me the potatoes please?" you asked. piling your plate high with good food.

once everyone was done eating you all sat in the living room and put on a Christmas movie.

you and Peter wanted to watch the muppets Christmas Carol but you both were outvoted and you ended up watching the Nightmare before Christmas.

Tony got the movie set up and you curled into Peter. an hour later when the movie was finished you were still in the same position, you were very happy next to Peter with him stroking your hair lovingly. you buried your head further into his chest until you had to upstairs to bed.

Peter offered to carry you and you glad fully accepted, completely worn out from the chaos filled day.

when you had both gotten up to your bedroom he presented a wrapped up gift from his pocket.

"I'm not done with you yet y/n" he says with a grin on his face.

you open the package and inside find a box. upon opening it you find a beautiful silver heart locket. you open up the locket to find that Peter had already put a picture inside, it was a picture of you and him on Valentines day, on the date that he had set up for the two of you.

"omg, Pete I absolutely love it!" you say with a massive grin on your face, "can you put it on me?" you ask.

"turn around" he says, taking the necklace from you and clasping it up. "all done"

he spins you around and you land in his arms, he kisses you passionately and you kiss back just as fiercely. the kiss was filled with passion and promises.

that night you fall asleep in his arms, with a massive grin on your face.

you couldn't have wished for a better Christmas, even if it did include burnt turkey.

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wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! I just discovered your blog and I was wondering if you'd be okay doing a Lance tucker x reader where they get in an argument but it has a fluffy ending where they're closer than they were before? Maybe they confess their feelings to each other? I totally understand if you're not able or comfortable to write this.

Merry Christmas! 🎄🤶🎅🌲🎁

Authors Notes: Hey! I hope this is something similar to what you were looking for. They’re expressing their feelings in some way, just maybe not the way you’d think. I hope you like it!

Lance Tucker x Reader

Warnings: Arguing, swearing, insinuation of possible cheating, and some downright shitty friends.

Word Count: 3K

Trouble in Paradise

(Not my gif)

_______________________________________________

It was New Year’s Eve. The year had been stressful to say the least but even worse, Lance’s buddies were coming over for a party. It’s not that you didn’t like his friends. Well, it was that. You didn’t like them. Ever since you and Lance got together three years ago, they have done nothing but try to convince him to date hotter women. “Date” being a loose term.

Overheard conversations during football games and dart/pool games and the basement went something like this.

“Oh, come on Lance you saw the chicks you used to pull. They were smokin’. Why don’t you just live again? Or better yet, you don’t even have to break up with her! Just, you know, tell her you got competitions and when she doesn’t suspect it, book a couple hotel rooms. What’s the harm?”

“Lance, buddy, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you don’t exactly have a trophy wife. Aren’t you the one with the gold medal? Shouldn’t you be looking for a gold medal wife instead of a bronze one?”

“I like her Lance, I really do, but remember that Victoria’s Secret model you hooked up with regularly like 5 years ago? What was her name... uh... Serenity! Yeah, why don’t you give her a call. You guys seemed to really click.”

The worst part of it all was they never really got to know you. They brushed past you while you cooked some food for them in the kitchen. You and Lance took turns cooking but somehow you always found that you were cooking when his friends were coming over. You had never really put much thought into it, until tonight.

“Honey! I’m home from the gym!”

You were making taco dip, guacamole, homemade Mac and cheese, and Buffalo chicken dip for the big party. You ordered pizzas, subs, and other sides to top it off. You never knew how much 8 men could eat, until you started cooking for 8 men.

Lance came up behind you and gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “How’s my pretty girl doing?”

“Fine, I guess.”

You both knew you weren’t fine.

Lance sighs loudly. “Angel, what is wrong? You know I just want to help you.”

“We can talk about it later. Right now, I just want to get in my cooking zone and not think about anything.”

Lance puts his hands on his hips and stares at you authoritatively.

“Well, I’m gonna go quick grab a shower and come back down to help you finish cooking before the boys come.”

“Sounds good” you said with a half-smile. You were dreading tonight.

_______________________________________________

True to his word, Lance came down and helped you finish cooking the rest of the food. It remained quiet for most of the time you spent together. Lance could feel the tension in the air but didn’t want to ask again if anything was wrong before the party. It was New Year’s Eve, he was supposed to be celebrating with his friends, not trying to start a fight with you.

You were infuriated Lance didn’t bother to ask you why you were so upset. You always felt second to his friends, why is that? The first year you were dating it wasn’t like that. You were the center of attention in all regards, you didn’t want to be, but he treated you like the only girl in the world. Now?

“Hey babe I’m going out with the guys I’ll see you tomorrow.” You knew full well he would drunkenly slip under the covers at 3AM. Why was he out so late? What was he doing?

“Sweetheart the guys are coming over to play pool do you mind ordering us some pizzas?” Why couldn’t he do it himself?

You really did not mind that Lance had friends. You encouraged him to hang out with them even though they said horrible things about you, but enough was enough. There’s hanging out with your friends, and there’s being with your friends 24/7, leaving your girlfriend to stay home and watch movies by herself.

After you finished cooking you went upstairs to the bedroom to watch a movie. By yourself.

Surprise, surprise.

You heard the front door open for the first time tonight. You wondered if any of the guys would bring over their girlfriends or “hot dates.” You didn’t know if that would relieve your stress or infuriate you even more. If they did bring someone, they wouldn’t be so focused on it being a “boys’ night.” However, if they did bring someone, why couldn’t you come downstairs to hang out with them?

You heard a slap of hands exchanged and what you assumed to be a half hug after it.

The men continued to pile in around 8PM. Some of them brought a date, but others didn’t. However, you noticed one of the guys brought two girls. Why would he do that?

You decided to put on some nice clothes to go downstairs. Other men were bringing their dates, and this was your house. You deserve to celebrate too.

You worked your way down to the basement, wanting to spend time with your definitely above average looking boyfriend. You were so happy to call him yours, even though he frustrated you to no end sometimes. From what you overhear, he never sticks up for you.

You strutted over him and placed your hand on his back gently. He quickly turns around, angry almost and begins to say something “I told you I don’t want.... oh, hi baby.”

You looked at him confused. What was that about?

“Hi... what’s uh, what’s going on?”

“Oh nothin’. Just Evan and I got into it earlier about something and I thought he was coming to bother me about it again. But then I turn around to see your pretty face and that doesn’t even matter.”

He brings you in for a tight hug and rests his chin on your head. You loved him. You loved him so much.

Out of nowhere Evan comes up behind you, noticeably drunk, the scent of liquor oozing off of him. There’s a girl attached to his right arm. She’s tall, slender, and blonde. You thought she was too attractive for Evan, until he started to speak.

“Lance, meet my girl Lindsay here. She’s really interested in you and wants to talk to you about your gold medal.”

You can’t say this never happened. You were used to women throwing themselves at Lance. You were always so proud to call Lance yours, but other women wanted that opportunity as well. It got so bad to the point where women would send random lewd photos to his work email to gain his attention. It never worked thank god. Every time you saw pictures like that you got suspicious, but every message read “don’t you want to see what you’re missing out on?” or something to that degree. Lance was always patient and kind with you about it, knowing you were easily frustrated and cautious of him because you knew what he was like before. However, you knew he wouldn’t cheat on you, and he always has an explanation if he thought you were ever worried.

“Excuse me?” You said looking at Evan.

“Come on Y/N. Let the man have a little fun.” Evan retorted.

“This isn’t letting him have ‘a little fun.’ Letting him have ‘a little fun’ is hosting this party, not you trying to actively encourage him to cheat on me, right in front of me no less.”

Lindsay sneers at you. “Who are you? Get in line sister. Evan told me I would get to talk to him.”

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

“I don’t know if I have to spell it out for you, if you can even spell, but I’m his girlfriend.”

“Y/N come on baby it’s not that big of a deal. She just wants to talk to me about my gold medal that’s all.”

“The gold medal you won in the Olympics or the one tattooed around your dick Lance?”

“I’ll only talk to her about the one I won in the Olympics and you know that.”

You had had it. You were so incredibly tired of Lance never sticking up for you when it came to situations like this. You never threw a fit when his friends would make stupid remarks, but this was the last straw.

“I don’t care anymore Lance! Talk to her about your dick tattoo. Hell, let her even see your dick tattoo close up while she’s sucking you off. I’m done.”

Without giving him a second glance. you turned on your heel and walked upstairs to grab your car keys.

Lance sprinted up the stairs after you, shouting your name. You didn’t care. You ran to the garage and hit the button to open the door. Lance thought you went to your room, so he sprinted to the third floor thinking you were there. He finally realized you were actually leaving when he heard the start of your car. He saw you back out of the driveway like a bat out of hell, and all he could do was watch from the window.

_______________________________________________

You drove to the nearest diner, hoping they would be open even though it was New Year’s Eve. Thankfully, they were. You always comforted yourself with food when shit like this happened. Who doesn’t love food? You can’t say that entirely though. You also tended to starve yourself in situations like this as well. Neither coping mechanism was healthy, but it got you through it.

You ordered a breakfast meal, quickly glancing at your phone to see if anyone had texted you.

24 missed calls from Lance❤️🥇

You knew he was worried about you, but you weren’t ready to call him back yet. You knew he couldn’t come searching for you either, all of his friends still being inside, waiting for the ball to drop. This was going to be the first year you and Lance wouldn’t kiss at midnight, all because of his stupid friends who hate you for no reason.

You ate your meal as you saw Ryan Seacrest introduce one artist after another on the television.

The clock was nearing midnight. You didn’t seem to care. You contemplated going to your friend’s house, knowing they would gladly accept you and support you, especially when they knew how much of an ass Lance’s friends could be. You decided against it, not wanting to bother anyone.

You glanced at your phone again.

28 missed calls from Lance❤️🥇

Not only that, but it had looked like he texted you as well.

“Where are you going???”

“Y/N???”

“Baby come back here please I’m very upset and I want to talk”

“Baby please come back and talk to me.”

And about 15 other messages similar to those.

You were heartbroken. You wanted to go home, but you knew you needed to stand your ground.

As the many thousands of people in NYC count down to the New Year you sat and ate your bacon and pancakes.

Lance saw all of his buddies laughing and having a good time. He couldn’t have a good time until he knew you were safe and that he would have everything fixed. He knew he fucked up big time, but he thought you were overreacting to the extreme. Was it really that bad you needed to leave right away?

His annoyance throughout the night grew as Lindsay began to pester him about his interests.

“Lindsay, I don’t know how to tell you this in a nice way, so I won’t. I have a girlfriend. She’s the sexiest, smartest, and sweetest woman on this planet, and that’s all that matters to me. Now please, go bother Johnny or somethin’.”

Lindsay didn’t like that. So much so, she dumped her whole glass of whiskey on his brand-new Nike shoes. He didn’t care she was upset. All he cared about was you.

Evan came back up to Lance for the last time of the night.

“Heyyuh pal. I didn’t mean to make your lady run out on ya.”

“But you did Evan. You fucking idiot, you stupid fucking fucker. You ruined this night for not only me, but my girl who is probably out sobbing to her friends about how much of a shit boyfriend I am. And you know what? I don’t blame her. I deserve it.”

“C’mon man don’t be so *burp* hard on yourself. Hey, at least you can go have fun with Lindsay eh?” He says while wiggling his eyebrows.

Lance was fuming. “Evan if you don’t get the fuck out of my face, I’m going to floor you in about 6 seconds.”

Evan held up his hands and backed away, finally getting the hint he was becoming a nuisance to not only Lance, but the party itself.

He listened to all of his friends count down to the new year in a drunken haze. He slouched over the home bar, drinking himself into a stupor with his seventh gin and tonic. He didn’t care about any of the calories he was consuming. He didn’t care about anything. He knew he wouldn’t have his Angel to hold and kiss into the new year. He wanted nothing more for this night to just end.

_______________________________________________

You snuck back into the house around 4AM, hoping Lance wasn’t awake. You drove around for hours after the ball dropped, the diner closing at 1AM anyways. You listened to 80’s music, calming yourself down. Music always helped you meditate.

As you slowly closed the door you saw Lance sitting miserably in his recliner. He was no longer drunk. Just incredibly depressed.

He turned to look at the door, hoping that the door opening and closing wasn’t just some sleep induced hallucination. As soon as he realized it was you, he jolted up and ran to give you a hug. You stuck your arm out before he could reach you.

He looked devastated.

“I want to talk Lance. I-”

“No, no I fucked up. Let me do this. I have been shit. I have been absolute and utter fucking garbage to you when it comes to my friends. I let them talk to me like I’m still a bachelor. I know you overhear the things they say, and it hurts you. And I let them do that. I don’t know why. I have no reason. It was so fucking stupid of me. You have to know I don’t want any other woman on this planet. You’re my day and my night. I would be lost in this depressing ass place of a world if it wasn’t for you my sweet Angel. My beacon of light.” He stopped his rant briefly to cup your face and stare into your eyes lovingly.

“It all stops here. No more stupid guy shit. You’re my number one and you deserve to be treated that way. If any of my friends continues to disrespect my baby, they’re out. I don’t care who they are and how long they’ve been around. You’re my baby. You’re the only thing that matters.

It felt like a weight had just been lifted off of your chest. You loved him. You really did.

He pulled you in for the tightest hug that he could have possibly ever given. He kisses the top of your forehead for what seems like a hundred times.

You look up to him while he’s still embracing you.

“I like Johnny. Johnny can stay.” You say with a smile.

“Keeping Storm it is, got it.” He returned with a smile.

A lightbulb goes on in Lance’s head. “Oh! Come here, come here, come here. I saved this for you.”

You follow him into the living room, your hand wrapped in his. He flicks through the TV menu, clicking to find the recording from earlier.

It was the ball drop.

“I recorded this for us. I didn’t want to miss kissing my baby into the new year.” He said with a smile.

“Lance Tucker, you are the sweetest man alive, do you know that?”

“C’mon, you know I’m still an asshole. I just have my moments.” He says with an eyeroll.

You slapped his chest playfully as you both slightly laughed.

As the seconds ticked down to midnight for the second time of the night, Lance stared into your eyes with the most love you have ever felt from a person.

“10!”

“Where did you even go anyways?”

“9!”

“Our spot.”

“8!”

I’m gonna take you on the best date there ever was. Just you wait.”

“7!”

“I’ll be counting on that Tucker. A promise is a promise.”

“6!”

“I’m really good at keeping promises.”

“5!”

“Oh really? Just like that time you promised to give me a castle made out of gold?”

“4!”

“You’re still getting that y’know.”

“3!”

“What other promises have you kept huh?”

“2!”

“I promised to love you forever. And I always will.”

“1!”

“I love you too, Lance.”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

He kissed you with a ferocity you didn’t know existed. He took your bottom lip into his mouth and held it there for what seemed like forever. Forever was okay though, as long as you were with him.

Lance finally broke the kiss, pulling away softly and cupping your face in his left hand. He whispered.

“Check your cardigan pocket.”

You looked confused. He knew you would be. You felt a tiny box in you right hand pocket. It was covered in felt. You slowly pulled it out to see that it was a ring box. You opened it and it had a ring pop inside.

“Ha-ha. Very funny Tuc-”

You looked down to see Lance on one knee. Holding the most beautiful ring you had ever seen in your life.

“I’m going to love you forever, Y/N. Will you marry me?”

You were stunned.

“...Yes.... oh my god, YES!”

He smiled, standing up and wrapping his arms around you as fast as he could.

“I’ll love you forever too, Lance.”

#lance tucker #sebastian stan characters #lance tucker x reader #lance tucker x you

157 notes · View notes

whatamidoingwithmylifeman · 3 years ago

Text

MK OC Randomness part 8... I think. Fuck it! We're going with it!

Welcome back to the shit show. Let's go!

also some of these jokes are from lamas with hats

Qiao Fu is my name for the Lin Kuei Grandmaster

Also some of these jokes are based off skits done by Moonkitti on YouTube. Just re-worded a bit

Nozomi: Hey uncle Shinnok! Do your old man voice!

Shinnok, in his normal voice: What old man voice?

Nozomi: Yeah! That one!

------

Nozomi: ooh who's this?

Qiao Fu: That's my old wife.

Nozomi: The one who died long ago?

Qiao Fu: The very same

Nozomi: *eyeing the picture* That's too bad. She looks really cute.

Qiao Fu: I'm sorry, do you find my old wife attractive?

Nozomi: Do you not!?

------

Nozomi: I wanna see my little boy!

Shang Tsung: *helping Meat walk* Here he comes!

Nozomi: *scooping Meat up and hugging him* I wanna see my little boy!

------

"Revenant" Reiki: WHY WOULD YOU THINK ANY OF THIS IS A GOOD IDEA!?

"Revenant" Michiko: Probably because I'm a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence.

"Rev" Reiki: Oh.

"Rev" Michiko: I don't understand how you keep forgetting that.

------

Shinnok: Shh, do you hear that?

Shinnok: That's the sound of forgiveness.

Melantha: That's the sound of people dying dad!

Shinnok: That is what forgiveness sounds like. Screaming and then silence.

------

Shariah: How did you even do this!?

Meat: A dollop of fairy dust!

Shariah: Meat!

Meat: I ripped the tag off a mattress.

Shariah: This isn't funny Meat!

Meat: Who's laughing? Clearly not all the people that just exploded.

Shariah: I'm leaving! I've had enough of this!

Meat: But thank of all the perfectly roasted faces we get to munch on now.

Shariah: What? Why?

Meat: Because we're friends. And friendship is two pals munching on well cooked faces together.

------

"The bar was so low it was practically a tripping hazard in Hell! And yet, here you are limbo dancing with the devil!"- Melantha to Hotaru at a family dinner.

------

"Oh no. There are consequences to your actions? Who would've thought?" Krow to Raiden and Flamus, still pissed at them for completely destroying a village that housed the remaining nymphs and nymphlims their husband made.

------

Nozomi: I'm just here to collect Michiko

Qiao Fu: *tries to stab her*

Nozomi: YOU'RE AN UNFIT FATHER FU! THAT'S NOT EVEN YOUR DAUGHTER! YOU HAVE A HUMAN CHILD! WHO THE FUCK'S DEMON CHILD IS THAT! WHO ARE YOU STEALING CHILDREN FROM!?

------

Michiko: You are not my father!

Qiao Fu: Bring proof you are not my daughter!

Meixiu's ghost in the background: Bitch! You literally murdered her birth father!

------

Nyx: Get out

Reiko: Aww come on. Can't I check in on my favorite little sister?

Nyx: If you don't leave me my room Reiko, I will stab you. And when I do it won't look pretty.

Reiko: there's a pretty way to stab people? Like with a butterfly knife or something?

Nyx: yup. Handle and all.

Reiko: oh... OH!

------

Nemos: Greetings Thunder God!

Raiden: Eh? Nemos what are you doing here?

Nemos: I'm taking advantage of your guilt-ridden personality to get a head start on being a better realm protector while no one is looking.

Raiden: Nope. New timeline, new Raiden. Go- Go play with your sisters.

Nemos: I'll have you know I've lived 15 lives in which I've played with my sisters, and none of them have been consequential!

Raiden: *sighs* I'm trying to take you seriously. Really. But it just feels like an even smaller Shinnok is yelling at me right now.

------

Hotaru: *busting into the Sky Temple and picking up Nemos* My beautiful son, I am back from my epic battle of driving out the rebels!

Nemos: Tell me, man who sired me!

Hotaru: We were fighting when suddenly Soldier B produced a substance that burned through their skin!

Nozomi: That sounds like my poison...

Hotaru: Oh no! We'd never poison anyone. Only ambush them in the middle of the night, kill them through physical violence, and intimidate them in other wise orderly court proceedings. Poison is bad.

Nozomi: Have you considered maybe, asking him if he poisoned them?

Hotaru: Oh no, I trust him completely.

Melantha: *holding Discordia and Harmonia* But, what if he did?

Hotaru: *small whimper before glaring and shouting* Solider B! Come here and apologize to my wife for making her think about things immediately!

Solider B: Hi, what?

Hotaru: I said apologize to Melantha!

Solider B: Uh yeah, sorry for poisoning the rebels or something..

Melantha: Hey, has anyone seen Nemos?

------

Darrius: It seems one of the soldiers has summoned Melantha to their side.

Hotaru: *spying on the rebels* Gonna go see Melantha. I'm gonna see Melantha at the meeting. Gonna see Melantha. Melantha.

------

OB: I made a perfectly good Titan

Fuyuka: You fucked up my daughter is what you did!

Fuyuka: Look at her! She's traumatized!

------

Amara: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve.

Leila: I think you mean cards.

Amara, pulling knives out of her sleeves: No, I do not.

------

Ermac: Bad things keep happening to us, like we have bad luck or something.

Zyta: Ermac, you don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass.

------

Zyta: You love me, right, Ermac?

Ermac: Normally, we’d say yes without hesitation, but we feel like this is going somewhere and we don’t like it.

------

Kristy: *steps on her glasses by accident*

Kristy: *inhales* If I knew that this would be the fate that befalls me and these damned glasses, I would've just let the fire reach my left eye and burn it out completely!

------

Megumi: I turned out perfectly fine!

Ayeka: Megumi, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast

Megumi: I DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!

------

Zyta: Stop buying plastic skeletons for Halloween! It's terrible for the environment!

Philomela: Yeah! Locally sourced, all natural skeletons are much more environmentally friendly!

------

Discordia, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Harmonia: You did WHAT–

Nemos: William Snakepeare

------

Discordia: Hey Harmonia,

Harmonia: Yes?

Discordia: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?

Harmonia:

Harmonia: Where’s Nemos?

------

Discordia: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.

Harmonia: Discordia no.

Nemos: Mistlefoe.

Harmonia: Please stop encouraging her.

------

Store Worker: Would a Ms. Philomela please come to the front desk?

Philomela, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem?

Store Worker: *points to Amara and Zyta*

Store Worker: I believe they belong to you?

Amara and Zyta, simultaneously: We got lost :(

Philomela: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

------

Erron, driving Ash and Kamden: So how was your day?

Ash: We almost got surprise adopted!

Erron: What?

Kamden: We almost got kidnapped.

Erron: Oh, okay.

Erron: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

------

Nozomi: Welcome, fellow idiots

Kung Lao: Hello, Nozomi

Nozomi: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot

Kung Lao: You underestimate me

------

Nozomi: What are your goals?

Kung Lao: To pet all the dogs.

Nozomi: No, fitness goals.

Kung Lao: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

------

Liu Kang: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword.

Nozomi: That's why I carry two swords.

------

Sareena: Ok, maybe playing ‘whose family is most dysfunctional’ wasn’t the best idea we’ve had. Michiko's been crying in the bathroom for an hour. We can’t get her out...

------

Sareena: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?

Michiko: You mean literally or figuratively?

Sareena: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

------

Sareena: Michiko... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?

Michiko: Your text told me to Satanize the house before you returned.

Sareena:

Sareena: I wrote sanitize, Michiko.

------

Sareena: You kill people for money?!

Michiko: I can explain!

Sareena: And all this time I’ve been doing it for free like a chump!

@deepinthefog @merplderpl @yuvononik @dontunderestimatemypoison @feistyfandomthings @toomanyf4ndoms7 @daddydestrey @tora-lotus @calcium1790 @starneko123 @dinogoofy @bar10du @cyberbloodgoddess

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angrylizardjacket · 3 years ago

Text

dirtbags // 3: Charlotte

Summary: High school AU, 1985, Winter. The year’s off to a strange start as Charlotte and her friends find out that not only does Lola work at the new diner that opened up in town, but her dad owns it! Charlotte humbles Nikki in a very un-Charlotte manor, and Vince’s parents decide to host an English exchange student in an attempt to give him a good role model; instead, they get Razzle.

A/N: 8466 words. Do I care too much about this AU? Yes. as always, for my dears @misscharlottelee and @newyeareva ft. a softer world quotes

the city sometimes feels like a movie set. maybe this is the big scene. maybe i can be an extra at least.

Charlotte’s only a few practice hours away from being able to get her provisional license, and she berates her past self for not getting it sooner, especially not when her Winter Break has been kind of a shit-show and she’d rather tear off her own arms than ride in Tommy’s shitbox of a car with Vince Neil.

Since his blowout house party, Vince had essentially been grounded for the rest of the school year, had his car privileges revoked, and the only people his parents apparently trusted him to hang around with outside of school, were Tommy, Charlotte, Eileen, and Peach. Tommy was delighted. The girls, unsurprisingly, were not. Vince himself was downright somber, and had sulked for the remainder of the semester, and well into the break.

He had been in a particularly sour mood since last night, New Year’s Eve, when his parents had announced they were going to be hosting an exchange student from England for six months. Vince is convinced it’s an attempt to give him some sort of role model his own age, and spent most of his parents’ New Year’s Eve party ranting to Tommy and the girls while they played cards in his basement.

Her saving grace is Eileen, of course, who’s father had bought her mother a shiny, new car for Christmas, and had given Eileen the keys to her mother’s old station wagon.

“It’s kinda dumb that we’re taking two cars,” Peach, Eileen’s little sister, pipes up from the back seat, hands fiddling in her lap. It’s New Year’s Day, and while their various parents were sleeping off their hangovers, they’d suggested the kids check out the new diner that was opening today. Vince jumped at the suggestion of freedom, and everyone was in agreement, but Eileen and Charlotte took Peach in Eileen’s car the moment Vince slid into Tommy’s front seat, holding the flyer he’d gotten at the mall that told them all about the diner’s opening day, “just saying, we could all fit in one.” But she’s met with silence, “are you going to be mad at him forever?” She finally sighs.

“Yes.” Both Charlotte and Eileen answer automatically. Peach sighs as dramatically as she’s able, and sinks as low into the seat as she can. Charlotte turns on the radio, and hums along to something familiar, but that she doesn’t quite recognize, staring out the front window at the back of Tommy’s car. Vince turns around in the front seat and flips them off.

“I’m gonna ram them,” Eileen says, with absolute sincerity and serenity, leveling an intense glare at where Vince was now waving.

“Don’t,” Charlotte advises, equally level.

“I don’t get why you’re still mad, I’m not even mad,” Peach huffed, pouting. Charlotte and Eileen share a look; at sixteen years old, Peach was top of almost all of her math and science classes, but she was still a teenage girl, and an absolute fool for a blonde boy who made her cry. Charlotte knew that feeling all too well, but thankfully she’d moved on from the ‘wondering why she wasn’t enough’ stage to the ‘realizing her ex is a cheating douchebag and it was never her fault’ stage. She really hopes Peach can move on to ‘realizing Vince made her cry and hasn’t even tried to change since then and deserved to get his car keyed’ stage quickly.

The diner was bustling when they arrived, a large decal on the inside of window, black, thick and flowing lettering, outlined in gold, reading Leo’s. Through the window, several booths were already filled, as were a host of the stools along the counter. It looked warm inside, inviting in golds, yellows, peaches and oranges, neon signs and rusted street signs, band and comic book memorabilia, and photos. Behind the counter -

Lola. Smiling.

“I’m freezing my butt off, can we go in?” Peach asks, hands shoved deep in the pockets of her parker, the only person who did not recognize the girl currently pouring coffee for an elderly gentleman at the counter.

Inside, the diner is warm, filled with the sounds pleasant chatter, and of the Beatles coming from a cherry wood jukebox in the corner.

“Lola!” Tommy can’t help himself, lighting up at the sight of her, and once Lola finishes pouring her customer coffee, she looks to their confused little group, and waves.

“Find yourselves a seat, I’ll be with you in a moment,” she calls back, smiling bright and wide, hair tied back with a bright, red bandana.

The teens do as they’re told, pulling off jackets and gloves and scarves, sliding into a booth by the window, looking around, wrapped up in the smell of warm food, and the confusion of Lola’s presence, and completely unfamiliar demeanor. There’s an uncertain kind of quiet among them, having just expected to spend lunch at a cool new diner, but this has shift everything, only Peach, blissfully unaware of who Lola even was, seemed at ease, rearranging the sugar packets in their little holder.

Lola comes by with menus, and cups, and a pitcher of water for the table, looking pristine and put together in a tight, black blouse, skirt, and scuffed black combat boots, little peach-coloured apron tied around her waist. She pulls a notebook and pen from the pocket of the apron, looking around at them all, as if finally taking a moment to assess the situation.

Charlotte picked up a menu.

“You work here?” Tommy asked, and Lola confirms brightly, but doesn’t give any further details. She does, however, thank them all for coming, and recommend a few of her favourites.

“I’m also partial to The Lola, for obvious reasons,” she gives an actual laugh at that, as if implying one of the burgers was named after her was giving away too much information, and Charlotte was quickly scouring the menu.

Beef patty, double bacon, American cheese, lettuce, tomato, and a home-made smokey maple-barbeque sauce, on a toasted bun.

“The menu’s kind of misleading,” Lola admits, moving to look down over Charlotte’s shoulder as she was reading, “all the patties are home made too, with Leo’s signature blend of herbs and spices.” That asked more questions than it answered. No-one’s quite sure what to say.

“Can I get a milkshake?” Peach pipes up, and Lola’s smile grew wide as she asked what flavour, “chocolate, please, and do you have curly fries or regular?”

“Hand cut,” Lola tells her proudly, but that means very little to Peach, who’s just glad to be having food, “still need time to think?” Lola asks the rest, and they all give her awkward, quiet smiles and nods.

Lola leaves, heading back to the counter, and the moment she’s gone, the whole table explodes with whispered confusion, leaning in, asking questions and not getting any answers.

“You guys are being super fucking weird,” Peach hisses loudly at them all, while Charlotte and Tommy argue about how the other should have known. Eileen, quietly delighted by the chaos, demands to know if anyone else thinks Lola might secretly have a twin, and Vince, who’s had the least contact with her aside from Peach, is babbling about how it’s weird to see Lola so chipper; their mutual confusion is enough to set aside Eileen and Charlotte’s hatred of him, at least for the moment.

When Peach demands they explain what they’re all whisper-shouting about, disturbing the booth behind her, they all quiet down, and Tommy and Eileen take it in turns explaining their full understanding of Lola. Charlotte takes the time to actually look around the diner now that she was inside.

There’s two other waitress, one behind the counter, the other always moving on about the various tables and booths on one side, making sure the customers are happy and food and drinks are delivered, both in the same outfit as Lola, though with varying footwear.

The view to the kitchen is unobstructed behind the counter, a half wall where meals ready to be delivered were sat, but a clear view to where three people in the kitchen, two by the grills and fryers, turned away; a broad-shouldered man towering over the grill with the longest hair Charlotte’s ever seen braided neatly down his back, and a comparatively shorter man, also with far shorter hair, though enough to be pulled up into a messy pony tail. The shorter man’s working the fryer, and putting together burgers as the taller man cooked up their various ingredients. There was also a strangely familiar kid with a mop of dark, curly hair washing dishes on the other side of the kitchen, barely visible.

Lola worked diligently, smiling and chatting away; she collected dishes, and ferried meals, and handed out slices of desert from the cute, multi-tiered desserts display on the counter. When she came back, milkshake in one hand, basket of fries in the other, Peach is fully caught up on each of her friend’s short but confusing histories with her, and blurts out -

“You’re Lola?” Injecting new meaning into the words, into the name, as if anyone else at their entire school had the same name. Lola’s smile goes a little tight as she places the fries and the milkshake before the redhead. Standing back up, she taps her nametag, which reads Lola, with little flowers drawn around it, and confirms, though it’s clear she’s more on edge than she was before.

“You guys ready to order?” She asks, still trying to keep up her chipper attitude, pulling out her notebook again. Everyone’s quieter this time, looking over the menu and finally deciding on food.

“My mom heard the owner was a chef, is that true?” Tommy asks, looking up from the menu to Lola again, and the tense set of her shoulders loosens considerably at the question.

“Leo is a chef,” Lola nodded, grinning broadly, “trained at the Culinary Institute of America back in the sixties, and worked his way up to being the head chef of Parker House in Boston, which I know probably doesn’t mean much to you guys, but it’s,” Lola laughs a little struggling to describe it, “it’s fine dining at it’s finest, but for the past twelve years, he’s been running Leo’s in Salem, and now he’s here, still using all that fine dining training for the anyone who wants a good meal at a good price.”

“Is that something they have you memorize in training?” Vince says, a little awed, and Lola gives a strange little smile.

“Leo’s my dad.”

Everything kind of fell into place after that, finally making sense, and the gang’s confusion quickly shifted to understanding, and the air around the table seemed to clear. It was easier after that, the teens in the booth ordering quickly, and the chatter picked up to a normal level as she moved away, shouting their order back to the kitchen once she was back at the counter.

She doesn’t spend much time at their table, still in charge of waitressing half of the tables and booths, but she always gives them a nod as she passes, and their meals are being delivered efficiently, so there’s no reason to complain.

The food itself, for diner food, is nothing short of spectacular, which kind of just raises more questions - why if Leo can cook food that tastes this good, and with all the experience he evidentially has, would he open a diner in suburban LA, and not a high-end restaurant? But it feels kind of intrusive to ask, so Charlotte simply enjoys her food, and her friends’ company.

Up until Vince starts complaining about the exchange student again.

“His name’s Nicholas, he shows up in a week, and mom’s making me clear out the basement so he can sleep there,” he’s despondently poking his milkshake with one of his fries, head propped up on one hand, “I’ve been asking for years if I could move into the basement, and this fucking Nicholas just gets it?” His whole expression scrunches up at the thought, and he angrily eats his fry.

“Wait, so the issue isn’t that you have to clean up the basement, it’s that he gets to use it as a bedroom and you don’t?” Charlotte frowned, lowering her own burger, “why would you even want to sleep in the basement?”

“Privacy!” Vince throws his hands in the air, eyes wide, “Tammi keeps complaining about getting cramps in the back of my car, but my bedroom walls are paper thin,” he huffs, “I need my own space.”

“Tammi?” Peach asks, her voice high and almost painfully chipper, “Tammi Frisk? She scored the winning goal in the softball final, right?” She’s not looking at Vince, when Charlotte looks over to her, she’s looking at her plate of fries, pushing the few left around without eating any, smiling in a way that’s clearly forced.

“You were at the softball final?” Tommy asked, frowning slightly. Peach did not look up.

“For the school paper,” she explained, voice still strange.

“You’re still with Tammi Frisk?” Eileen asks, making sure the disgust is clear in her voice as she draws the table’s attention away from the clearly uncomfortable Peach. Charlotte’s lip curled; she wanted to make sure her expression was as judgmental as possible when Vince turned back to her.

It’s not that she cared about who he was dating, she was mostly apathetic to Tammi, and knew little more about her than the fact that she was on the softball team, but Charlotte knew Vince had been dating Tammi when he’d decided to crush Peach’s heart publicly at the start of the last semester.

Neither Peach nor Eileen had told any of them exactly how, but apparently Eileen’s hatred was well warranted, both against Vince, and according to Eileen, Tammi too.

Vince, immediately sensing Eileen’s shift in tone, and seeing the look on her face, frowns.

“Kind of,” he responds flatly, and his gaze flicks to Peach, “not really,” he backtracks, and his indignation at the whole situation seems to fizzle out with a sigh, and he slouches, going back to paying attention to his burger, “she’s sort of hanging out with one of the second-string football guys, but they’re not... and we’re not really...” he trails off, despondent once more.

At least Vince seemed to be self-aware of the fact that he was an asshole to Peach, at least he had the decency to feel bad about it. Why he kept inviting Peach to hang out, despite the fact that he knew Eileen, who hated his guts, would come along too - invited or not - baffled Charlotte.

Tommy was his friend, and a guy, Charlotte was a cheerleader and technically popular, and so was usually begrudgingly invited too, but Peach, sweet Peach, recent Science Fair Winner, junior reporter for the school paper, treasurer for the AV Club, by all accounts ‘a nerd’ when judged by her interests, was still on the guest list of Vince Neil’s life, even if he wouldn’t admit that out loud.

It kind of made Charlotte want to punch him in the face.

But that’s not news.

“I hope the English exchange student is a decent influence on you,” Charlotte tells him. Vince scowls.

“You sound like my parents.”

you make me want to pretend to be a better man.

Now that school has started back up, Vince has thankfully had his car privileges returned, and Charlotte can return to not glowering in the back seat of Tommy’s car when he picks her up on the way to school, and drops her home on the days they both have practice.

But it’s Wednesday, first week back, and he’s uncharacteristically quiet. Usually he’s babbling about practice, or cheerleaders he thinks are pretty, or Lola, but today, he meets Charlotte in the carpark, leaning against the trunk of his car, hands in his pockets, quiet. It’s decidedly unnerving.

“What’s wrong, Tom?” Charlotte asks, yanking the passenger door open once he unlocks it, sliding into the seat and putting her bag by her feet.

“Nothing,” Tommy voice betrays the lie, the thoughts so clearly on his mind that he was trying to avoid talking about. Charlotte won’t push him, if he wanted to tell her, he would, and he usually does, “put on some music, will you?” And Charlotte obligingly opens the glove compartment in front of her to look through the collection of 8track tapes he keeps in there, several of which had been Christmas gifts from Charlotte herself.

Feet on the dashboard, Charlotte’s more than content listening to Bon Jovi, bopping her head to the beat, when Tommy finally finds the words for his thoughts.

“Lola and Nikki Sixx are friends.”

Up until now, Charlotte was under the impression that Tommy, like her, thought Nikki and Lola would be great as friends, Tommy’s current tone implies otherwise.

“Is that not good?” Charlotte’s careful about her words, still not sure where Tommy’s hesitation was coming from.

“No, they make sense,” he’s quick to try and backtrack, words spilling from him almost too fast, “they make sense as friends.” He deliberates, before asking, “Charlie, you’re not friends with Nikki Sixx are you?” And it sounds like he already knows the answer. Charlotte hesitates.

“He keeps bothering me during my free periods, I wouldn’t exactly call us friends -”

“He called you Charlie,” its deadpan and accusatory in equal measure, and Charlotte shrinks back into her seat as Tommy keeps talking, “he called me ‘Charlie’s cousin’. It was weird.”

“I thought you wanted to be his friend -” she tries, right as they pull up to a red light, and Tommy fixes her with an unamused look, the only expression that makes him seem older than his years.

“Did you tell him I was obsessed with him?”

“No!” Charlotte snaps, automatically defensive.

“Because I’m not -”

“I never said - I told him you were a fan! That’s all! Like Duff was!” Charlotte tries to clear up, and Tommy looks back at the road, though this time he thankfully looks more pensive than angry. Only Bon Jovi cuts through the tense air between them for the rest of the drive back to Charlotte’s house, and when Tommy pulls up outside, he doesn’t say anything to her when she gets out.

The next day, like clockwork, fifteen minutes into her free period, Nikki Sixx comes climbing over the school’s fence, into the garden Charlotte had been trying to force herself to study in. In all honesty, she’d been waiting for him, picking at her nail polish beneath the table and reading the same sentence in Moby Dick over and over again.

“Miss Lee,” Nikki nods to her, a little gruffer than usual, “you seem more tense than usual; I can help you with that if you want,” but he still manages to smirk his way through an unsubtle come-on, and Charlotte rolls her eyes, not in the mood for their usual banter.

“I’d rather sit on a cactus,” she tells him icily, without even a teasing edge. Nikki’s eyebrows shoot up at the hostility, and he puts the packet of cigarettes that he’d about to offer her on the table, knowing she’d turn them down anyway, “I thought people weren’t meant to know that we know each other.”

“What people do?” Nikki frowned, raising his lighter to the cigarette between his lips, “is this about yesterday? I talked to your cousin, big deal. Everyone knows you two are related, and everyone knows you,” he looks pointedly to the embroidered logo on her cheer uniform, “I wasn’t even looking for him -”

“Dude,” Charlotte felt as though she was about to tear her hair out, “you called me Charlie to him, people don’t just call me that!”

“Plenty of people call you that! That leggy redhead you’re always hanging around calls you Charlie -”

“My friends call me that -” Charlotte snaps, “and I know you know that’s Eileen Austen.” And Nikki’s wearing a dreamy look, like he’s thinking unholy thoughts about Eileen as Charlotte speaks, before snapping out of it as the first of her words register like a bucket of ice water to the face.

“I’ve called you Charlie before. To your face.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Charlotte tells him dryly, crossing her arms, “it’s less effort if I don’t correct you. We’re so not friends that I don’t even care about correcting you.” Back when this school year started, Charlotte wouldn’t have dreamed saying half the nasty shit she’s thrown at Nikki Sixx, and at some point she may have to confront the idea that being around him has made her meaner, “but did you tell my cousin that I told you he was obsessed with you? Because I never -”

“I said I was glad he was a fan!” Nikki scowled, sitting back and glowering at her across the table, “all I wanted was to ask Lola if she wanted to sit on the roof with the rest of the smokers, and your fuckin’ yappy, dumbass of a cousin -”

Punching someone in the face hurts a lot more than Charlotte had been anticipating, but it’s worth it to see Nikki toppling backwards off of the picnic bench and onto the cold grass. His cigarette lies some few feet away while he lays groaning, clutching his cheek, and Charlotte’s standing, leaning, thighs pressed against the picnic table for support as she’s staring down at him, breathing heavy through her nose while the adrenaline rushes through her system.

“What the fuck, Charlie?”

“Don’t talk shit about Tommy,” her heart’s thundering in her chest, she can feel the blood rushing in her ears, and when she looks at her hand, she sees the skin of one of her knuckles has split enough to draw blood, “he has done fucking nothing to you apart from support you, and think you’re really fucking cool, for whatever dumbass reason, so don’t you dare talk shit about him.”

“Jesus Christ,” Nikki groaned, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath after being winded so thoroughly, hand still cradling his cheek. That’s how Charlotte leaves him, slinging her bag onto her shoulder, and stalking towards the library to finish the rest of her free period in peace.

When Tommy drives Charlotte, Eileen, and Peach home after school that day, he’s quiet once again, but it somehow feels completely different to the oppressively accusatory air of the day before. The three girls were chattering away, trying to plan a trip to the mall for the upcoming weekend, and only when Peach and Eileen were waving goodbye in the rearview mirror did Tommy speak up.

“Did you punch Nikki Sixx in the face?” There’s a smile in her cousin’s voice, and Charlotte’s not quite sure how to react.

“I had good reason to,” she says, carefully guarded.

“He said you guys were friends, and then he thanked me for being coming to the gig a while back; told me he’d asked you to bring me specifically,” Tommy’s tone was oozing pride, and if Charlotte had been looking at him, and not frowning out the window, she would have seen how he was all but preening.

“He told you all that?” Charlotte’s anger at her memory’s of the morning’s altercation was fading fast.

“He hung out with me and Lola by the carpark for lunch,” Tommy paused, snorting a laugh, “didn’t want his buddies to find out a cheerleader gave him a black eye.”

“I - what? No I didn’t...” Charlotte’s eyes went wide, and finally she looked at her cousin’s beaming face.

“You definitely did; Lola laughed at him for a full ten minutes because of it.”

“Serves him right,” Charlotte said, with a begrudging little smile.

Nikki sits with Tommy and Lola on Friday too, which Tommy is delighted to inform Charlotte on Saturday while he’s driving them both to Vince’s, where his parents have invited them over to meet the exchange student. Nicholas.

He arrived on Wednesday, but Vince’s parents have given him the rest of the week to settle in, and had invited around the few friends Vince has that they deem to be a positive influence, if only so he knew a few faces around school.

Charlotte had been picturing some over-gelled boarding-school boy, used to itchy uniforms and strict rules, and about to get a good deal of culture shock hanging around Vince and the rest of their motley little pack, but when Charlotte brings this speculation up in the car, Tommy’s quick to dismiss it. Vince, from the little Tommy had spoken to him in the past two days, was over the moon, claimed that Nicholas - Vince had called him Razzle - was amazing. If Charlotte felt an quiet sense of foreboding at that sentiment, she felt it was justified.

The first thing either of them hear after being directed down to the basement by Vince’s mother, is Alice Cooper playing almost obnoxiously loud; Charlotte’s not sure why, but it eases something in her chest.

Nicholas’s - Razzle’s? - room, first and foremost, is possibly the coolest bedroom Charlotte’s ever been in. He’s decked it out with movie and band posters, though most of the band’s she’s never heard of. There’s string-lights above a desk, a bed crammed into one corner with a bright duvet, and even a sofa, and a few beanbags all crowded around a low, wooden table that had mostly been taken up with a record player, which is where they found their friends.

The name Razzle suited him, Charlotte considered, as she took in the newcomer’s appearance, all spiked up dark hair and ostentatious clothing, animatedly telling a story while Peach and Vince hung onto his every word. He looked almost wild, like collection of half-thought ideas all vying to become a reality through the texture of his clothes, the height of his hair, the hint of amusement that tailed his words, the passion shining in the blue of his eyes when they flicked to look at her and her cousin, standing on the stairs and watching him.

His words grow quiet as he takes them in, as if waiting for something to happen, for someone to introduce them.

“You must be Charlie and Tommy!” His accent, thick and bright, made her nickname sound so familiar on his lips.

“Charlotte,” Vince corrects, giving a surprisingly respectful nod to Charlotte, who tries to shrug nonchalantly.

“Charlie’s fine. You’re,” and Charlotte hesitates for a moment, ignoring Vince’s eyeroll, “Razzle, right?” Razzle’s smile is blinding at her immediate use of the nickname, and he waves them in.

Peach throws Tommy a cushion from the sofa when he asks, and he settles himself on the floor next to Vince, while Peach and Eileen squeeze over to make room for Charlotte on the sofa clearly only made for two people.

“I was just telling these guys ‘bout my band’s very first gig, ‘nd how I had to sneak out just to get there,” Razzle settled back into his own beanbag, hands out and ready to return to his story, eyes still shining with anticipation at the memory, or possibly just glad to have an audience.

Oh, Charlotte thought, looking at this boy she barely knew, already fighting off a smile in the face of his infectious enthusiasm, maybe Vince was becoming a better judge of character.

“You’re in a band?” Tommy’s eyes light up, and Charlotte gives her cousin a fond smile; Razzle has already won his seal of approval.

we need more good crazy. it'd be nice to watch the news, and think, 'that's fucking insane', but feel a little jealous instead of just alone.

Heather hasn’t been glowering as much at lunch, and the rumour is that it’s because she’s getting laid. Well, it’s less of a rumour to Charlotte, since Heather confirmed as much to the rest of the cheer squad when one of the girls asked her, but she’s being coy and secretive about who she’s with, which is the really weird part; Heather won’t say, and no-one’s coming forward, and lord knows that most guys at their school would jump at the opportunity to claim they’re banging the Vice Captain of the Cheerleading Squad.

But Charlotte knows not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and instead just smiles back when Heather gives her a sunny smile in the cafeteria.

Tommy is less than thrilled with the news when Charlotte brings it up in the car after school. Nikki’s still sitting with him and Lola during lunch, despite his bruising going down considerably over the weekend, and Tommy is equal parts delighted and uncomfortable, for reasons he can’t seem to put into words.

“At least Pam’s single,” he says it with as much of a dreamy sigh as he can manage, though it comes out more forlorn than anything else. Charlotte pets his shoulder, and reminds him that so is over half the squad; he perks up a little at that.

They pull into Mick’s gas station, and Charlotte waves to Mick and Lola, who are sitting on the step by the door sharing a cigarette. Lola waves back.

“Meant to give this to you,” Lola says to Charlotte, still sitting while Mick begrudgingly heads inside. Tommy follows him in, not needing to fill up the tank, but rather just looking to drown his sorrows regarding Heather in a jumbo slurpee. Outside, Charlotte waits with her hands in her pockets, giving Lola an amused smile, watching as the dark haired girl pulls a pin off of the jacket she practically lives in, and hands it over.

It’s a piece of black card stock cut into the shape of a star, barely an inch in diameter, taped to a safety pin. It say Punched Nikki Sixx in silver pen, one of the points of the star already a little bit crumpled.

“You’re a little bit punk, so you get a pin,” Lola tells her, smiling around her cigarette, looking quietly pleased, and perhaps even a little bit proud; whether of herself or of Charlotte, Charlotte can’t tell, but it still makes her flush.

“I thought Nikki didn’t want anyone knowing that a cheerleader gave him a black eye,” Charlotte mused, looking at the little pin, and Lola’s face scrunched up, expression falling.

“So? Who gives a shit?” She shrugs, looking away tone having shifted to almost forcibly neutral in an instant, “wear the pin or don’t, I don’t care.” Lola stands with a groan, without giving Charlotte a chance to respond, and calls to Mick that she’s heading to the diner. Mick waves, Tommy calls out a farewell, and Charlotte frowns, wondering what just happened.

“I hate that,” Nikki says flatly, the moment he spots the pin where Charlotte’s fixed it to the strap of her backpack. There’s no hard feelings between them after last week’s altercation, thankfully, though they don’t talk about it. If Charlotte’s glad that he still showed up, if she’s realised she may, in fact, enjoy his company, she keeps that information to herself.

“Lola made it for me,” Charlotte tells him. Nikki leans in, squinting at the handmade pin.

“Of course she did,” he sighs, leaning back. Surprisingly, there’s quiet between them for a few, long moments; maybe, Charlotte considers, this will be one of those mornings where Nikki uses their time together to catch up on sleep, and Charlotte can actually use her free period for it’s intended, study-related purpose, but then Nikki sighs like he wants her to ask what’s wrong.

So she does.

“I need a new band.”

“I can’t help you.”

“I know,” Nikki nods with resignation, “I was gonna ask this guy I work with, Slash, he plays guitar, but he’s already in one -”

“Wait, you don’t mean Duff’s friend Saul Hudson, do you?” Charlotte frowned, intrigued despite the stab of anger she felt at the mere mention of her ex. Nikki seemed taken aback by her question.

“You know Duff McKagan?”

“I dated him for a year and a half,” Charlotte finds herself suddenly very interested in drawing connecting triangles in the back of her notebook, not looking at Nikki, who’s quietly processing this information.

“He’s in a band now,” and neither of them seem to be quite sure why he offered that information, but they both let is hang between them for a moment.

“Makes sense,” Charlotte nods, tone flat, “with Saul - Slash?”

“Yeah,” is all Nikki has to say.

“Slash is a good kid, I always liked him,” Charlotte offered, and finally she looks up, “Tommy plays drums.”

“Marching band isn’t exactly -” Nikki begins, but Charlotte’s shaking her head.

“No, like, legit drums,” she enthuses, “his parents fixed up their whole garage to make it sound proof for him,” but she doesn’t want Nikki to think she’s pushing her cousin on him too hard, not after last week, so she sits back, and crosses her arms, trying to play it cool, “I mean, you can ask him yourself, see if he’s any good.” She shrugs, but Nikki looks like he’s already considering it.

“How many musicians do you know, Charlie?” He finally asks, giving her a faint, amused smile.

“Probably too many,” Charlotte responds with a longsuffering smile, before her mind turns to the things Tommy himself had told her, “I heard you and Lola are getting along; what’d I tell you?” She teased, and much to her surprise, what she could see of Nikki’s face, for his hair, was turning pink.

“She’s a bitch; you know she’s a bitch, right?” He asks, but he’s grinning, all sharp and dangerously amused.

“I knew you guys would get along,” Charlotte gives a pleased little sigh, as if she’d manufactured their whole friendship herself. Nikki rolls his eyes at her, and the bell goes.

Tommy, as it turns out, thinks they’re sleeping together, at least that’s what he tells Charlotte when they’re on their way to Leo’s after school to meet up with Vince, Razzle, Peach, and Eileen. The news of Nikki and Lola’s potential affair surprises Charlotte at first, but after a moment of consideration, she thinks she should have seen it coming.

Tommy’s reasoning is that they’ve become friends far quicker than he’d realised, and Nikki’s always giving Lola lifts after work, like they’re going in the same direction, even though he’d pretty sure Nikki doesn’t live near Leo’s. It also turns out that that was what had been bothering him about Nikki and Lola being friends; he still tries to insist he doesn’t have a crush on Lola, but he and Charlotte both know that’s mostly a lie.

So Charlotte can see how conflicted he is when he tells her that Nikki’s looking to start a new band, and that he asked about Tommy possibly playing drums. A beat of silence follows, and then, without looking away from the road, Tommy mutters a quiet thanks, knowing without asking that Charlotte had been the one to recommend him. Charlotte leans over and bumps her forehead against his shoulder in unspoken acknowledgment.

“Duff’s in a band,” Charlotte’s voice is soft and a little unreadable.

“Sorry,” Tommy mutters, tone somber like it’s the worst news in the world, “we could throw rotten tomatoes at him?” He suggested, at the mental picture alone was enough to make Charlotte laugh, “or is that just in the movies?”

“I think that’s just in the movies,” Charlotte says, amid giggles, “besides, the rest of his band doesn’t deserve that.”

In the week that Razzle’s been in LA, Vince and his family have taken him to several, sophisticated restaurants in the vicinity, and Razzle had apparently loved them all; Leo’s was no different. He was sitting across from Charlotte in the booth, at the end of the table, reading the menu intently as the others chattered away about their day, making noises of intrigue every time he spotted something new he wanted to try. His knee knocked hers under the table, but it barely seemed to register, so engrossed in the menu that he muttered the faintest apology.

“Afternoon, guys, welcome,” Lola at work never failed to startle Charlotte, despite the fact that she’d been here once already since the first time. At least her chipper introduction seemed to bring Razzle back to reality.

“Hi, yes - oh! I know you!” Razzle lit up at the sight of Lola, and the rest of the gathered teens watched with interest, trying not to give away how intrigued they were to see Lola’s reaction, “Miss Honky Cat, you work here?”

What?

“Alright, Razzle, you found me, did you wanna order something?” Lola says, with a good-natured eyeroll, and an easy grin, hip cocked to one side. Razzle asks her what she recommends, and orders that, and then the rest of them, who had been sitting in stunned silence, are quick to order for themselves.

When she leaves, it’s mere moments before Tommy asks what that was all about, and Razzle’s eyes go wide.

“That’s Lola, innit? From school? She’s in my music class, was playing Honky Cat on the piano in the second music room, the Elton song, you know, when we had some free this morning,” he explained, confused, “she called me Rocketman when I picked what she’d been playing, but I told her my name’s Razzle.”

“You’re an enigma,” ironically, it’s Eileen who says this, wearing a fond little smile, while Razzle just looked bemused.

“I think it’s the accent, chicks fuckin’ love it,” Vince pipes up, smirking, and Razzle tries to hide his own pleased little grin since he can’t very well deny it, “Pam was all over him in Phys Ed yesterday -”

“We were just having a conversation -” Razzle was quickly turning red, while Vince clutched at his arm, putting on a high voice, twirling his blonde hair around one finger as he pretended to be Pam.

“Oh Nicholas, tell me more about The Clash, please, I want to know more!” He ended with a fake moan, which had Eileen and Peach laughing, while Razzle grabbed Charlotte’s hand and exaggeratedly mouthed ‘help me’.

“Pam’s into Razzle?” Tommy groaned, breaking the moment, falling dejectedly against Vince, who was already leaning pretty heavily on Razzle, who was then ejected from his seat and onto the floor, while Vince was draped over where he was just sitting, and Tommy was draped over Vince, “I’m gonna die alone.”

Despite Tommy’s despair, the rest of the table was greatly amused.

Thankfully for Razzle, it wasn’t a far fall, and he’d held tight to Charlotte’s hand, so at least he hadn’t ended up flat on his back, and Charlotte gave him an apologetic grin as she helped him to his feet. He lets go to dust himself off, and it’s here Charlotte notices his maroon, velvet pants, and black and white leather shoes with their little heel.

“Fancy threads,” Charlotte points out, notes of approval in her voice. Razzle makes a move to straightening a jacket he’s not wearing, and clicks his heels together, drawing the attention of the rest of the table to his shoes, of which they all make various noises of approval, or at least interest.

“I dress to impress,” and judging by his tone, if he were as crass as Vince or Nikki, he would have winked, but Charlotte’s kind of glad he refrained. He then shoves Vince, and by extension Tommy, back up to a sitting position, retaking his seat across from Charlotte, this time purposefully knocking his knee against hers.

Charlotte’s glad that Lola’s back with their drinks, so she can look at something that’s not Razzle’s sunny smile, because she doesn’t want to think about how pretty it makes him look. Stupid, British, band boy and his stupid, blue eyes.

But then she’s looking at Lola, and all she can remember is Tommy’s dejected expression when he told her that Lola and Nikki were possibly sleeping together, and Nikki’s half-hidden, bashful grin when he calls a bitch with a kind of fondness that Charlotte had never heard from him before. The urge to protect her cousin, from harm, from heartbreak, is carved into her bones, but part of her knows it would him hurt more to let him keep falling for Lola when she’d never really end up catching him. Suddenly staring into the depths of her soda became the safest option.

i have loved since you. but when the new paint gets scratched, there you are underneath.

Heather, of all people, is holding a party, and she tries to limit the amount of people she tells - the squad and her friends were the first to be invited - but of course, the guest list spirals out of control, and it’s exactly one and a half days before Tommy’s mooning over the fact that he’s been invited to a party at an actual cheerleader’s house.

“Dude, you’re killing me here,” Charlotte tells him at lunch; she’s finally sitting with him, Lola, and Nikki, though Nikki’s late. Heather had coyly asked her to ask Vince to bring Razzle - the cute English guy, specifically - and Charlotte had picked up her bag and left. Something about Heather in a good mood was worse than when she was being catty.

“You don’t count, you’re my cousin,” Tommy waived her off, and Lola snorted a laugh from where she was laying in the grass, using her backpack as a pillow. “You going?” Tommy pokes Lola in the ribs and she smacks his hand away, but makes an affirmative noise, and throws her arm over her eyes to shield them from the sun.

Something about how that makes Tommy smile, almost pleased, has worry sinking heavy in Charlotte’s gut.

“Heather asked me to ask Vince to invite Razzle,” Charlotte’s not quite sure why she says it, or why it makes Lola bark a laugh of her own, but at least it get’s Tommy’s mind off of last time he and Lola were at a party.

“Of course -” Tommy sighs, but then, in the very same breath, he lights up like a lightbulb, “wait! If Heather’s preoccupied with Razzle, and Pam’s going, then I -” he turned sharply to Charlotte, eyes wide, “is Pam seeing anyone?” Charlotte gives him an amused, but longsuffering look, shaking her head.

“You gonna put the moves on her?” Lola’s smirking, and Tommy’s steadily turning red, but refusing to be embarrassed.

“It’s now or never, you know? She’s graduating in a few months, will go to college and date some meathead, college footballer, this is my chance,” he enthused, and Charlotte pet his shoulder in solidarity.

Nikki joins them halfway through lunch, right as Lola and Charlotte find themselves playing angel and devil on Tommy’s shoulders regarding how he should dress for the party. Charlotte’s firmly of the opinion that he should be be wearing bright, eye-catching things - “Come on, you know Pam likes those new-wave guys!” - while Lola was adamantly recommending to go all-out punk.

“Don’t ask Nikki’s opinion, you know who he’s going to side with,” Charlotte implored, and as if to prove a point, Nikki throws his bag to the side, and lays down with his head pillowed on Lola’s stomach.

“Because Nikki has taste,” Lola throws her arm above her head, into the grass, neck at an awkward angle as she looks, wide-eyed to Tommy.

“Thank you,” Nikki grumbles, and immediately closes his eyes, “what are we arguing about?” A pause, then, “and why is Charlie here?”

“Heather asked Charlie to bring Razz to the party next weekend,” Tommy says, the words sounding rote off his tongue, before he gets into the meat of the argument, laying himself back in the grass. Somehow it makes Charlotte feel left out, being the only one left marginally upright, and she slouches a little lower against the fence.

Tommy explains his conundrum, and much to everyone’s surprise, Nikki refrains from giving his opinion, sighting that he has no clue what Pam would like, and that he’s not taking the fall if Tommy looks like a dickhead and crashes and burns while talking to, arguably, the most popular girl in school.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole,” Tommy groans, without really thinking, and as the realization and subsequent horror took over his expression, Lola barked a laugh, and even Nikki was grinning.

The moment was surprisingly light, Tommy’s face buried in his hands, though he’s now hiding a smile, and Charlotte is surprised at how easy it is to smile and laugh here, these people accepting her presence without another thought. The politics of the cafeteria make it all feel so foreign, but Tommy said ‘Charlie’s sitting here now’ and Nikki and Lola took it in stride.

And later, Eileen will ask her where she was at lunch, will go on to sigh and roll her eyes as she recounts barely sitting through five minutes of the cheerleaders buzzing like cheerful, little hornets, discussing who would be at the party, and how they would coordinate their outfits. She’d spent another five minutes with the swim team, who spent the entire time picking apart her backstroke technique since she ‘finally decided to join them’.

“This is why I don’t sit with them,” Eileen had frowned, sitting in the McDonalds carpark, absentmindedly violating her soda with it’s straw out of frustration, Charlotte, wide-eyed, quietly eats her terrible, oily fries, and lets Eileen vent, “if I have to listen to one more five-am-gym-going-wannabe-sports-scholarship tell me my form is off, I’m going to go full Carrie-At-The-Prom at our next meet,” Eileen warned, and reached over to snatch a fry. Very few people were ever privy to Eileen’s frustration, as the redhead seemed to do a rather good job of bottling it up, but Charlotte personally felt honored that her friend could be so honest around her.

“I was thinking of joining yearbook, maybe? Or the school paper with...” a strange moment of hesitation, “with Peach,” Eileen paused, taking a long moment to think, and take a sip of her drink, eyes glass as she stared out at the highway as cars passed before them, “auditions for the school play are on Friday,” she adds, like she’s seriously considering it, “it’s Singin’ In The Rain, Keanu actually suggested I should audition.” The idea that Keanu and Eileen have talked enough for him to suggest that she audition for a musical and for her to serious consider it is kind of baffling; Charlotte doesn’t process the meaning behind any of this now, however, just files it away in the back of her mind for later.

“Macy moved to Portland over the Summer,” Charlotte feigns seriousness with her suggestion instead, trying not to give away how amused she is, already anticipating Eileen’s response, “we’re holding cheer tryouts to replace her on Tuesday,” Eileen’s expression is already souring, almost comedically disgusted at Charlotte’s implied suggestion, though she lets the blonde finish, “you were the best bottom-right to the pyramid we’ve ever had,” she said, barely stifling giggles as Eileen turns to her.

“I’d rather die,” her lip curled, and Charlotte leaned over the center console of the minivan to press her forehead against Eileen’s shoulder, and Eileen reaches up with her free hand to scratch gently at Charlotte’s scalp, before bursting out with, “and my form’s not even bad! The coach loves me, Charlie, she loves me, they just think they’re better than me, bunch of clique-y, insular, webbed-toe bitches.”

The words hang in the air, a surprising outburst from the usually reserved and thoughtful girl.

“Do they really have webbed toes?” Charlotte asks, turning so her temple still pressed against the soft cashmere of Eileen’s sweater, but she was following the ginger’s gaze out to the highway ahead. Eileen gives a tired, little laugh, as if her outburst had left her exhausted.

“No.”

Charlotte wants more than anything to ask her what’s wrong, but knows better than anyone that Eileen only says exactly what she wants someone else to know. Instead, she offers her fries silently. Eileen takes one.

“Peach and I got into a fight today,” voice barely above a whisper, Eileen follows her words with a sigh, and suddenly her out of character frustration made complete, and utter sense. For all that she’s known both Peach and Eileen, Charlotte has never known their altercations to be quick or painless affairs, “Vince invited her to Heather’s party.”

“He invited her himself?” Charlotte’s not sure what the issue is beyond their general dislike of Vince, but if Vince himself is starting to possibly change, then it’s hard to see the issue.

“Yeah,” Eileen seems to know what Charlotte’s thinking, and pauses to find the right words, “I don’t trust him, and I don’t know how she can trust him either.” There’s a quality to her voice that Charlotte’s only heard rarely; uncertainty, “and I don’t want her going to Heather’s party, I barely want to go myself, and what if she drinks, and what if she does terrible things she regrets -?” Eileen cuts herself off, squeezing her eyes shut and leaning her head back against the headrest.

“I get it,” Charlotte says, so gentle, so understanding, but Eileen’s still quiet.

“She’s my little sister, Charlie,” Eileen sighed, “and it’s like our parents couldn’t care less, so I have to protect her, and I have to keep her from the guy she thinks is the love of her life, and I have to be the one to always remind her of all the shitty things he’s done and remind her that life isn’t a goddamn fairytale.” She sounds close to tears, soda cup between her knees and hands clutching, white knuckled, at the steering wheel, or else she may have been tearing her hair out.

There was a shake in her voice, tight and exhausted in equal measure, like the words had sat, unspoken, pressed against her teeth, for far longer than Charlotte had realized she’d been thinking them. Charlotte rests her hand on Eileen’s.

“She loves you more than anyone else in the world, you know that right? She’s just sixteen, you know all the drama and shit we went through last year -”

“I can’t watch her go through what you went through with Duff,” the words escaped Eileen in a rush, and she clamps her mouth shut, sitting forward in the driver’s seat, lips pressed into a thin line, as Charlotte’s heart sank in her chest, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Charlotte sat back in her own seat, nodding dejectedly, fiddling with her bracelet.

“You... Charlie, you know you’re my best friend, and I love you, and seeing you in pain with no way to help,” Eileen’s hands slid down the sides of the steering wheel as she forced herself to relax, though her words have Charlotte’s heart swelling with fondness, “it fucking killed me,” she admitted, leaning back, letting her shoulders sags with the weight of her words, like the weight of the world, and as she leaned back, she looked to Charlotte, so unguarded, so sincere, “I can’t let Vince break Peach’s heart like that.”

Eileen has always looked and seemed older than her seventeen years, but it’s strange to see her like this, to be reminded that she holds within her this unassuming duality. To protect is her first instinct, herself, her feelings, her friends, her family, but she’s still so young, just a kid; she still deserves to be protected too.

“I’m so tired,” Eileen murmurs, gaze dropping to her hands, now folded in her lap, and she huffs a humorless laugh, “I’m seventeen, Charlie, I’m fucking tired of feeling thirty.”

#nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #nikki sixx imagine #tommy lee imagine #vince neil imagine #motley crue #the dirt #the dirt imagine #motley crue imagine #the angry lizard writes #charlotte & lola #lola&charlotte

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h2bakugou · 5 years ago

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hi! may i request a scenario where bakugo is helping his s/o with homework, and he keeps yelling at her for not focusing, and she gets really self conscious/upset bc she has ADHD and can’t help getting distracted? maybe he feels bad after and the next day he brings her to his room to help her again and does it much more softly, and cooks up her favorite meal as an apology for yelling at her before? thank you!! (*´꒳`*)

a/n: hi love! of course!! i apologize if i get some things wrong, please feel free to correct me, i used google for a little bit of help with getting things accurate!

summary: during a study session with bakugou, he gets onto you for losing focus, but he eventually finds out that you have ADHD and he comes up to you to apologize.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, a smidge of angst

wordcount: 1.4k

»»————-　★　————-««

“Can you please focus? You’re not going to learn anything if you keep spacing out.” Bakugou groaned, continuing to scribble down notes into his notebook neatly.

You were trying to focus. Keyword, trying. Little things kept earning your focus, like the sound the clock was making, the small ticking noise happening every second.

You wiggled your pencil between your fingers, anxiously re-reading over the question. You’d read it a thousand times it seemed. It was getting any easier to understand.

You were bored and Bakugou yelling at you wasn’t helping.

“Yeah, sorry.” You said quietly, trying to ignore the urge to yell at him back. You couldn’t help that you were losing focus. Maybe if this history worksheet was a bit less wordy it’d be okay.

But before you could re-read the question for the thousandth and second time, you took interest in Bakugou’s collection of All Might figures, which you had been sworn to secrecy about.

Bakugou’s eye twitched as he noticed your head moved and your eyes moved away from the paper. He let out a low growl and slammed his hands onto the table.

“Pay attention! It’s not that hard!” Bakugou was losing his patience with you. Everything was fine until it came to your study sessions. He’d never been this angry with you before. But you were just wasting his time if you weren’t going to pay attention.

Your head snapped back to Bakugou, a feeling of guilt washing over you.

“What did you get for number five.” Bakugou asked monotonously.

“Uh...” You looked down at your paper. On the thousandth and third time, it seemed to click.

“Oh well, it’s obvious the guy was a controlling leader so his people killed him.” You answered, a small feeling of relief washing over you. Bakugou sighed and accepted your short response.

“Was that so hard?” Bakugou mumbled. You looked down at your lap and began moving your leg. Sitting criss-cross, your right leg was now moving up and down.

You went back to wiggling your pencil and reading the next question.

You got lost in your train of thought to the point you didn’t hear Bakugou yelling at you again.

“Focus!” Bakugou slammed his hands down on the table again. But this was enough to make you snap out of it and bring tears to your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” You apologized. Bakugou softened slightly when he noticed a tear roll down your cheek.

“I’m sorry I can’t fucking help I can’t focus.” You groaned, grabbing your things and standing up.

“Hey wait-”

“No. Go spend your time with someone useful who can pay attention.” You slammed his door on your way out.

You made it back to your dorm and sat on your bed. You’d struggled with ADHD for as long as you could remember. Focusing in school was hard, paying attention was hard. You’d even gotten in trouble for trying to control your fidgeting.

You’d always end up moving a leg, or a pencil in your fingers. But hearing all that stuff from Bakugou, the guy you liked, your boyfriend.

It hurt on a whole other level.

- - -

“How’d your study session with (y/n) go?” Kaminari asked, devouring another bite of his food.

“She kept losing focus. It was annoying.” Bakugou left out the fact that he’d made you upset. He didn’t think it was really anyone’s business what happened between you and him behind closed doors.

Especially not Kaminari.

“Oh dude, that’s a little harsh don’t ya think?” Kirishima chimed in. Bakugou raised his eyebrow and rolled his eyes.

“What was I supposed to do?!” Bakugou groaned.

“Did you yell at her for not paying attention?” Mina asked, worry filling on the rest of the Bakusquad’s faces.

“Yeah? I’m not gonna waste my time for her to just sit and stare at walls and shit.” Bakugou was getting fed up with all these questions.

“Bro.” Sero looked upset.

“That’s a little messed up.” Kaminari added. Bakugou was now utterly confused.

“What am I missing!?” Bakugou raised his voice. He felt tense. Something wasn’t right.

“She has ADHD dude.” Kaminari spoke.

Bakugou’s face drained of color.

He’d royally screwed up.

“Don’t tell me you-”

“I didn’t know.” Bakugou mumbled.

“You owe her an apology.” Mina stated, going into mom mode. Bakugou nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, his appetite had disappeared.

“It’ll be alright, you didn’t know, but you still talk to her about it, and apologize.”

“Yeah, you messed up big time bro.”

“Sero!”

“Sorry.”

- - -

Bakugou knocked on the door to your dorm. When it pulled back and he saw you, he engulfed you in a hug.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou apologized. You were confused, but eventually, you connected the dots and assumed he was apologizing for before, during your study session.

“It’s fine-”

“It’s not. Even though I didn’t know, I shouldn't have raised my voice at you like that. I hate seeing you cry.” Bakugou said softly. This side of him was rare. You’d only ever seen him like this once before.

“I thought you knew, I figured Kaminari would’ve told you as soon as he figured it out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bakugou asked. You didn’t have an answer to that. It never crossed your mind, especially since Kaminari had found out pretty early on, it made sense that Kami would have told Bakugou.

“I assumed Kaminari would’ve told you, he found out pretty early on, like the second week of school. You wouldn’t even look at me then.” You laughed.

Bakugou remembered. He wouldn’t even talk to you, let alone be caught looking at you. Until the two of you got paired up for a project and Bakugou fell head over heels for you.

“Let me make it up to you. We can study again tomorrow, and-”

“Okay.” You agreed. You didn’t let him finish, instead, you pulled him in for a kiss.

- - -

When you got to your study session with Bakugou, he had prepared your favorite food. You smiled and didn’t hesitate in taking a bite of the yummy food.

“Did you make this?” You questioned, your eyes filled with joy.

“Yeah. I had stupid IcyHot help me with the recipe. It’s his sister’s.” Bakugou grumbled. You giggled and raised a piece for Bakugou to try.

“Are you feeding me?” Bakugou asked. You nodded. He opened his mouth a tried a bite.

It was good. Bakugou was proud of himself. He assumed you must be really happy about it too.

“Alright let’s get this done!” You said happily.

You and Bakugou began your session. Bakugou paid close attention to you, making sure you were staying on track.

You began to lose focus again. You could feel his eyes on you.

“We can take a break if you need too.” Bakugou said calmly. You looked up, a small smile on your lips.

“O-Okay.” You blushed. He was being nicer. Bakugou and you stood up, taking a quick break to stretch and get a sip of water. You sat back down, this time beside Bakugou instead of in front of him.

“Changing up on me now?” He chuckled. You smiled and looked at his worksheet before your own.

“Okay let’s read this passage. You start and I’ll finish.” Bakugou awaited your response. You gave him a nod and began reading the long passage for your literature class.

About halfway through you could feel yourself beginning to fidget. Bakugou’s thumb rubbed your leg, tracing small shaped into the fabric of your pants. While you still fidgeted, you felt at ease, calm.

You stopped after the sixth paragraph, allowing Bakugou to take over. Listening to Bakugou read was nice. His voice sounded good, and it was funny when he pronounced big words wrong.

“It’s pronounced-”

“Are you listening to me reading or how I’m saying words?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow.

“Both...” You blushed. Bakugou leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“We’re almost done and then we can watch a movie.” Bakugou whispered in your ear.

- - -

The study session was over before you knew it. And as Bakugou had said, the two of you watched a movie in his room, cuddled up beside each other on his bed.

You snuggled under his All Might blanket, the one you had gotten him for Christmas that he loved but would never admit.

“I love you.” You said softly. Bakugou smiled, unbeknownst to you.

“I love you too, you nerd.”

»»————-　★　————-««

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thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 3 years ago

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Falling For You But You Are Worlds Away: Chapter 2

A/N: So, I'm not Latino but I do come from an immigrant family so I may end up basing Simon's experience moving to a whole new country with my own experiences. I also consulted Hispanic friends on the language and culture I used here but forgive me if I get anything wrong. Please feel free to suggest or correct me on anything.

AO3

Simon had never been on a plane before. In fact, he had never traveled before.

It wasn’t like his family had copious amounts of money to spare for a fancy vacation. The most they probably did was spend a weekend in Stockholm, sightseeing and doing tourist-y stuff during one of his mother’s birthdays.

So, to say that he was overwhelmed by the process of traveling by plane, internationally, and as a minor, was an understatement. He was utterly terrified and anxious.

When his mother and Sara had dropped him off at the international airport in Stockholm (that place, alone, was overwhelming to see, even if he had looked at the pictures online beforehand), their hugs were long and teary. His mother barely let him go and Sara clung to his arm, crying silent tears into his jacket. They made sure he had enough snacks to fill him up on the 8-hour flight and his mother must have lectured the airport official tasked to escort him (because he was a minor) for so long that the woman had to gently tell her that Simon would miss his flight if they dallied any longer.

So, reluctantly, he said goodbye to his family.

Simon was given a badge to wear that indicated he was an unaccompanied minor and the stewardess seated him towards the front of the Economy class next to the window. She asked him if there was anything else he needed before leaving him to tend to other duties. No one was seated next to him yet so Simon took his time looking at all the knobs and buttons, familiarizing himself with them. He spotted magazines tucked into the little pocket in front of him so he took one out.

Just his luck, Wille’s face stared back at him. It was one of those tabloids and, fortunately, this one didn’t have Simon on it. The words on the cover spoke about the Royal Family’s Christmas celebrations.

Unable to help himself, Simon ran a gentle finger over the image of Wille. He missed him. He missed him so much. He missed his smiles. His hugs. The way he made noises when he was embarrassed. The way he tried to sing but was always off-key. Damnit, Simon really missed him.

When Wille first denied it was him in the video and Simon decided to break up with him, he was angry. So damn angry. Wille had promised him that they were in it together, that Simon wasn’t going to be alone. And he broke it.

But, now that he had time to think things through and see the situation from Wille’s position, he understood. Sort of. Maybe not completely. The Royal family’s need to stick to tradition and rules in a modern world that had no room for it would always baffle him. But, there wasn’t anything Wille could do. And coming out was such a personal and terrifying thing, Simon could speak from experience.

He wished he could tell Wille where he was going – he knew the prince would worry if he didn’t see Simon at Hillerska. But, Simon promised his mother to keep his whereabouts quiet from others aside from them, Ayub, and Rosh.

His best friends had been upset to find out that Simon was leaving the country. They had tried to appeal to his mother but when she made a decision, she was determined to see it through. Not even her soft spot and affection for Simon’s best friends could sway her.

Thus, here he was. On a plane. To New York.

Someone shuffled to the empty seat next to him, an older man who acknowledged him with a nod. Simon gave him a small, polite smile and tucked the magazine back into the pocket. Then, he took out his headphones and put them on as he waited for the plane to fill up and take off.

During the flight, Simon realized traveling by plane wasn’t too bad. It was probably one of the most luxurious things he had ever experienced. There were movies and snacks and interesting meals. He watched 3 movies, all in English, and snacked on the provided bags of pretzels and sodas. When he had finished those, he dug into his own backpack for the snacks his mother packed. He also napped for about an hour, leaning against the cold surface of the window. He took pictures of the clouds on his phone.

The stewardesses checked on him every once in a while. Then, when the plane was almost to New York, they were given little papers to fill in for immigration. The man next to him, clearly a veteran of flights and traveling, kindly helped clarify the places that confused him.

Then, when they landed at JFK Airport, while everyone else shuffled out of the plane, Simon had to wait for someone to get him. An airport official eventually arrived, a man who greeted Simon in Swedish and led him out of the plane. The official got him through immigration, Baggage Claim to collect his bags, and to the Arrivals area.

Simon scanned the crowd, looking for his aunt.

“Simon! Over here!”

A woman with dark curly hair, wearing a plain white shirt and jeans, waved at him, excitedly. His Tia Elena.

Feeling himself smile, Simon dragged his suitcases behind him as he hurried over to her. She fought through the crowd to get to him.

“Tia!” He was enveloped in her arms, immediately, the hug as tight and warm as his mother’s.

“Oh, look at you, mijo!” She pulled back to look up at him – he was at least an inch taller than her. “You’re so tall now! And so handsome! Look at those beautiful curls!”

Simon laughed. “Gracias, Tia. It’s good to see you, too. Thank you for having me.”

She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “Of course. You’re family.”

She patted his cheek affectionately before turning to the airport official who had escorted Simon. After confirming who she was and her relation to Simon, they were finally allowed to leave the airport.

His aunt drove them in a red Toyota sedan, chattering and pointing out the window at buildings and signs, explaining what they were or where they led to. Simon nodded along, politely, watching New York pass him by. Being here, it finally sunk in – he was no longer home in Sweden. He was no longer going to see his mother, his sister, and his friends for a long while. He wasn’t going to see Wilhelm.

The longing made his heart grow heavy but he kept his face neutral, not wanting to worry his aunt.

At a red light, Tia Elena picked up her phone and unlocked it before handing it over to him.

“Why don’t you video call your mama?” she said. “Let her know you’ve arrived safely.”

Simon took the phone and scrolled through the contacts, looking for his mother’s name. It was probably late there now, as Sweden is 6 hours ahead of New York, but maybe they were still awake.

“Elena?” His mother picked up, immediately.

“Hi, mama. It’s me!”

“Mi amor!” She beamed. “I’m glad you got there safe! How was your flight?”

“Good! Mama, did you know they give you food on the plane? It was really good. Nothing like your cooking though.” Simon bit his lip. “I miss you and Sara, already.”

“We miss you, too, mi amor. Sara! Come here, it’s your brother! Where’s your Tia?”

Simon moved to show his aunt on camera.

His aunt waved at the phone. “Hi, Linda! Simon is here with all his limbs attached, don’t worry.”

Simon’s mother laughed. “I’m glad to hear that. How are you, Elena?”

His mother and aunt chatted for a bit, with Simon holding the phone. At some point, Sara showed up to say “hi” and announce the news that her grant from Hillerska had been approved. She was going to be a resident when the term started.

And, suffice to say, Simon was happy for his sister but was also a little bummed that he couldn’t be there for her. But, he also knew she was in safe hands with Felice and Madison.

“Who’s gonna feed my fish then? That was your job!”

“Mama will, duh!”

“I’ll take good care of them, Simon, don’t worry.”

Simon smiled. “Thanks, mama.” He bit his lip, feeling the longing stir in his chest again. “I… I miss you.”

His mother returned the smile, sadly. “We miss you, too, Simon. Take care, okay? I’ll call as often as I can.”

“Okay, mama.”

“Bye, Elena. Take care of Simon!”

“No need to tell me twice, Linda.”

Goodbyes took another minute or so and finally, Simon ended the video call. He could feel his right eye watering. He turned to look out the window again, not wanting his aunt to see. But, she must have those instincts all mothers had as he felt her pat his shoulder, gently.

The rest of the ride was mostly silent with only the radio and his aunt occasionally pointing out a store or a restaurant that she and his cousin, Ana, would frequent. He assumed he would be doing the same, at some point. But, right at that moment, he didn’t really care. He had only been in New York for an hour and he already wanted to go home.

They soon arrived at the home where his aunt lived with her only daughter. It was painted yellow, one story, and a few steps led up to the front door. A few potted plants and some large bushes decorated the lawn as well as patches of ice and snow.

As soon as Simon entered with his suitcases and backpack in tow, he was greeted by a shriek and arms wrapped around his neck.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here, Simon! Welcome to New York!”

The arms retreated and Simon looked down in surprise. His cousin, Ana, a year older than him and whom he remembered often led him around by holding his hand, was shorter than he was. She must have noticed it, too, as she scoffed.

“Ugh, why are you so tall now?!” she whined.

“Simon probably eats his vegetables and you don’t,” said his aunt, gently bumping her daughter in the head.

Simon laughed, shaking his head as he pulled his cousin back for another hug. He had forgotten how much he had missed her.

Ana, Sara, and he were thick as thieves and the best of friends when they were younger. They grew up together. That was, until Simon turned 11 and Ana and Sara, 12, that Tia Elena’s then-husband and Ana’s father, Ricardo, decided he wanted to try his luck in America and moved his entire family there. Two years later, he left them for another woman. But, that didn’t matter. He left his family but Tia Elena managed to keep the business that she worked hard to put up and grow.

“Take your cousin to his room and let him rest. I’ll start on dinner.”

Before Simon could protest, Ana grabbed his backpack and one of the suitcases before making her way through the house. Sheepishly, Simon followed behind her, eyes roaming around to take in the furniture and knick-knacks.

They walked through the living room with a sofa and armchair, T.V., and a collection of DVDs. A couple of photos on the walls of Ana and Tia Elena (none of Ricardo, of course). He surprisingly found one of his mom with him and Sara wearing their Hillerska uniforms. They had taken that on the first day of school back in September.

They passed by the dining room and he spotted the kitchen through a beaded curtain.

“That’s the bathroom.” Ana pointed to a small door at the end of the hallway. “Master’s bedroom is Mama’s room.” She pointed to a door on the opposite side. “She has her own bathroom so you and I will share. Mine is this one.” She pointed at the door they just passed that had a pink butterfly made from wire and what looked to be stockings stuck to its surface. “And you get this room.”

She opened the door and stepped aside to let him through first.

Pulling his suitcase behind him, Simon cautiously entered the room, still feeling like a stranger in what was supposed to be his home in the next couple of months. Or longer.

There was a bed, a little larger than his own at home, covered in green sheets and four pillows. A window with open blinds was above it (Simon itched to close it). There was a closet on the wall and next to it, a chest of drawers. There was also a desk with a wheeled chair and a lamp as well as an AC with another window with blinds above it.

“The AC is unplugged right now since it’s winter,” said Ana, entering after him and closing the door. She set his backpack on top of the chair and his second suitcase next to it. “There’s a heater but if you still get cold, let us know. We can get you an electric heater. I have one in my room, too.”

Simon sat on the bed. It felt nice. Soft. The sheets smell freshly washed.

“Thanks, Ana,” he said smiling up at her.

She returned the smile and sat next to him. For a moment, they were both quiet. Simon wasn’t quite sure what to say to her and clearly, neither did Ana. The excitement of seeing each other had worn off and the years of their separation finally settled. He wondered what she was like now. It wasn’t like they didn’t talk – they kept in touch through social media. But, it wasn’t the same as before.

“How are you, Simon?” Ana suddenly asked, sounding hesitant. “We heard about… you know… that.”

Heat filled his face and he immediately dropped his head into his hands. “Ana… please don’t tell me you watched it.”

She snorted. “Of course not! I wouldn’t do that to you! Plus, it’s weird! You’re my cousin!” She nudged him. “But… was it really the prince?”

He groaned.

“I mean… you don’t have to tell me or anything. But, I just want you to know that… whoever did that to you, guys, is really shitty. And, I hope they step on a pile of legos.”

The unexpected joke coaxed a giggle out of Simon. Ana was funny. He wondered when she developed this weird sense of humor, but he kind of liked it.

He raised his head to look at her. “Thanks, prima.”

“Anytime, primo.” She nudged him again. “You know that I’m always on your side. I even joined my school’s GSA Club in solidarity! And lemme tell you, we have lots of cute guys for you to meet!”

Simon groaned again. “Ana, I’m not really looking to… date.”

Or be with anyone ever again. Wilhelm had ruined him for anyone else.

“You don’t have to date them. Just meet them. Make new friends. Learn things about yourself.” She nudged his foot with her own. “I mean, I learned a lot about myself there.”

Simon turned to look at her, confused. “Like what?”

Ana couldn’t look him in the eye but she took a giant deep breath. “GSA doesn’t just have cute guys, you know. There’s also… cute girls.”

Oh… OH.

Simon wrapped an arm around her back, squeezing her to his side, like he often did with Sara.

“Does Tia know?” he asked softly.

Ana bit her lip and shook her head.

“Why not? You know she’ll be supportive. She supported me when I came out.”

“That’s different. You know it’s always different when it’s other people’s kids but when it comes to your own kids…” She scoffed. “I love her and I know that she loves me. But, I just don’t know how she’ll take it if I tell her that I don’t just like guys… I like girls, too. I mean, how can you not? They’re so pretty!”

He shot her a look.

“Right, you can’t relate.” She chuckled and then sighed. “It’s just… different. I don’t know how you did that. But, I wish I could, too.”

Simon understood. It was scary when he decided to come out to his mom and Sara when he was 13. He thought they would stop loving him. He thought things would be different after he did. But, nothing much changed, really. His mother and sister simply told him that they still loved him. Now, instead of teasing him about girls, they teased him about boys. He had never been so grateful to have had such a loving and accepting family.

He knew Ana was scared right now. So, if he could be a friend and comfort, he would. They were family, after all.

“You’re on my side so I’m on yours, okay?” he said, smiling, kindly.

She laid her head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Simon. And, I'm not even exaggerating. I’m really excited to have you here.” She patted his knee and stood up. “So… I’ll let you rest now. Mama probably needs help with dinner. It will take a while so you can nap or something. We’ll catch up more later?”

“Yeah, thanks, Ana. And I’m really happy to see you, too.”

She grinned at him before opening the door and closing it behind her.

The sound echoed in the room.

Simon looked around the room – his room – that was full of so many things for him yet felt so empty.

There was no fish tank for him to spend mindless minutes talking to his fish. No second-hand desktop with his Xbox connected to play games with Ayub and Rosh. He did bring his laptop and his game systems but he could no longer make their Friday game nights.

Not for the first time since he boarded the plane to New York, Simon felt all alone.

After taking off his jacket and shoes, he curled up on top of the covers and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was asleep.

He dreamt of Sweden and all he left behind.

.............

The sky outside was gray. Winter was cold and cruel and it seemed like even the sun refused to come out and grace them with its warmth. Wilhelm thought it matched his mood, perfectly

“Your Royal Highness… Prince Wilhelm…”

Wilhelm tore his gaze away from the window and stared up at the face of his concerned-looking Math teacher. Mr. Englund raised an eyebrow at him.

“Your answer?”

Wilhelm looked at the board. There was an equation on it that he didn’t bother to try and answer.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, sir.”

Mr. Englund sighed at him. “See me after class, please.” He moved on. “Frederika, what is your answer?”

Wilhelm tuned out his classmate’s response, choosing to look back out the window again. He had no energy for school anymore.

After class, Wilhelm stayed behind. He stood in front of Mr. Englund’s desk and waited as his classmates filed out. When the last of them was gone, Mr. Englund finally turned to him.

“You’ve been distracted, lately, your Royal Highness. Is everything alright?”

Wilhelm shrugged again.

Mr. Englund cleared his throat. “If you need extra tutoring-.”

Wilhelm’s eyes flashed and his hands shook as he finally spoke, “I don’t need to bribe you to get a good grade in this class, sir.”

Clearly caught off-guard by this, Mr. Englund’s mouth opened and closed and opened again.

“That’s not what I-.”

“It’s illegal, you know,” Wilhelm continued. “To give special treatment to those who can pay when you should be treating all your students, equally. Not everyone has the means to bribe their way to the top.”

Wilhelm was running his mouth, he knew. He wasn’t exactly sure if it was illegal (he should probably look it up) but he knew it was wrong. He knew what the need to get a passing grade in this class did to Simon. He would be damned to let it slide.

He was the Crown Prince, damnit, so he might as well own it in some way.

“I won’t speak of this to the headmistress,” he continued as Mr. Englund continued to stare at him, mouth agape like a fish. “Though I suspect that she’s already aware of your little side business. But, I won’t be a part of it. Good afternoon, sir.”

With his head held high, Wilhelm walked out of the room.

As soon as he was far enough away, he stopped and leaned against the wall. His heart was pounding so fast, he wondered if he was getting a heart attack at the young age of 16.

“Your Royal Highness?”

He looked up to a concerned Malin hovering over him.

He managed a reassuring smile at her. “I’m fine. Sorry. Just… I need a minute.”

She nodded and stepped back.

He knew he was already late for his next class but, nonetheless, Wilhelm dug through his pocket and took out his phone. He dialed the already familiar number, not willing to forget this one thing, just in case. And, just like any other time, the call went straight to voicemail.

“Yo, this is Simon. I’m not available right now. Leave a message and I’ll try to call you back. Bye.”

“Simon,” Wilhelm said in a low voice. “Hey. Um… It’s me. Uh… I did something today. I think you’d be proud. I think. I hope.” He took a shaky breath. “Please call me back. I need to talk to you. Please. I…”

He meant to say, “I still love you. I never stopped. I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone else the way I love you.”

Instead, he said, “I miss you.”

Wilhelm hung up and thumped his head against the wall. It hurt a bit but not as much as his heart right now.

#young royals #young royals fanfic #simon x wilhelm

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twinklecheeks · 4 years ago

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Friends With Benefits (Jeff Wittek Imagine) Part 11

Summary: Jeff and Y/N have been hooking up for a while. The whole vlog squad assumes they’re dating and Y/N does too but Jeff doesn’t like labels. He eventually starts to express interest in Natalie.

Note: Planning on making this a multiple part series, depending on how good it does. You’re 21 & Latina in this (maybe) series. Also, I’d like to apologize for the typos, if there is any. I’m just illiterate lmao.

Side note: Sorry it took me over a week to post this! I just started my last semester of college and I also have a part time job, so I’ve been super tired. I’ll try to be more consistent.

Warnings! Pregnancy, Smut

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,

Word Count: 2k

Christmas Eve 12/24/2019

Y/n: *Wakes up and stares at Jeff peacefully sleeping*

Jeff: *moans*

Y/n: *looks down and notices Jeff has a boner* Hmmm *gently rubs the swollen tip of Jeff’s cock*

Jeff: *thrusts into y/n’s hand*

Y/n: *Smirks and quietly gets out of bed to lock the door* *Pulls Jeff’s boxer’s down and sees his cock slap against his abs* *Softly licks the base of his Jeff’s cock all the way to the tip and sucks the head*

Jeff: *moans* mmm fuck.

Y/n: *You use the entirety of your palms and fingers with just how big and long he is. You hum greedily as you do this*

Jeff: *wakes up and smirks* I guess it’s a very Merry Christmas to me.

Y/n: I can suck on your cock all day daddy *winks*

Jeff: *groaning at how fast you’re going* F-fuck baby the way you’re moaning. You’re gonna kill me *bucks his hips*

Y/n: Shhh, I don't want them to know I’m sucking your cock ;) *continues to deepthroat feeling him twitch*

Jeff: Oh my fucking god baby yesss. Fuck me, fuck me, over and over. I swear I’d be fucking you every nigh- JESUS FUCK *cums inside her mouth*

Y/n: *swallows and sucks his cock clean* That was a great way to start Christmas.

Jeff: *laughs* Me cumming in you?

Y/n: *smirks* Mhmmm, I love it when you’re in me ;)

Jeff: What time is it?

Y/n: It’s 7:42am. I think your mom is already up cooking.

Jeff: Well if you want to see the Christmas parade at 11 w/ Jonah’s family, round 2 in the shower has to be a quickie.

Y/n: *looks down at his cock* You’re still hard? You just came a bunch in my mouth.

Jeff: I’m always hard for you babe *winks*

*After the Christmas Parade*

Suzie: I loved the parade! New York is so pretty during Christmas.

Vardon: Christmas is also more fun w/ snow.

Jonah: Guys it was fucking freezing outside.

Y/n: It was only 38 degrees.

Jeff’s mom: Oh good you guys are back. Marie (Jonah’s mom) and I are almost done with the food.

Jeff: Ma you’ve been cooking since like 6am. Have you had a break?

Jeff’s mom: We also did some last minute shopping/ gift wrapping. Everybody gets to open one present today and the rest tomorrow.

Y/n: You guys open presents tomorrow?

Jeff’s dad: Yeah, doesn’t everybody?

Y/n: Well in the Hispanic/ Latinx community, we call today Hispanic Christmas. So we open our presents today and then we spend the 25th stuffing our faces in left overs. We open on the 24th cause we’re too impatient and yes, we know Jesus was born on the 25th.

Jeff: Maybe we can do that w/ the girls next year.

Jeff’s mom: *tears up* Oh god you’re going to have daughter’s next year.

Jeff: Maaaa don’t cry again.

Y/n: Oh we are definitely doing hispanic christmas. If my sister comes over, she’d want to open the presents like a week before. She’s the most impatient. One year, she opened presents at like 3-4pm.

Jeff’s mom: I’m such a cry baby. Now help me set up the table!

*everybody helps set the plates and food*

Jeff’s dad: does anybody want to start the prayer?

Jeff: I’ll do it.

Karyn: Really? The last time you did it was Easter 2005 and you couldn’t stop laughing.

Jeff’s mom: Karyn.

*everybody holds hands*

Jeff: oh Heavenly Father, thank you for all that you’ve brought us. I know that Christmas is about you but I’d like to say thanks. Thank you for keeping everybody here in good health because I don’t know where I’d be w/ out them. I’m grateful for the supportive family and friends you have given me and most importantly, y/n. I know we were very rocky until recently but you brought her into my life for a reason. She was changing me into a better person and I was too stubborn to accept it. Now she’s going to be the mother of my 2 amazing daughters. Those babies already have me wrapped around their fingers and they’re not even here yet. I can’t wait for the day y/n and I get married and have however many babies you give us but don’t make it twins each time cause that’s gonna make my hair gray fast

Jeff’s mom: Jeffrey-

Jeff: okay I’m just kidding… kind of but you know what I mean. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me and the rest of my family. Amen.

Everybody: Amen

Jeff’s dad: Hun are you crying?

Y/n: *sniffles her nose* NO. Maybe…. I wouldn't have thought Jeff was religious.

Karyn: Only during Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter.

Jeff’s Dad: Karyn stop teasing your brother. Now that the prayer is over with, let’s eat!

Jeff’s mom: Marie and I spent all morning cooking. Also, since this is y/n’s first Christmas w/ us, I wanted to bring some of the food she eats during the holidays.

Y/n: What food?

Jeff’s mom: *shows the Pernil* (pernil is pork shoulder)

Y/n: NO YOU DIDN’T *tastes the food* AND IT TASTES JUST LIKE OUT MY DAD MAKES IT. How did you make it?!

Jeff: She asked me a couple of days ago what you eat during the holidays and I found your sister on instagram. I got the recipe from her.

Jeff’s mom: I saw that it was a Puerto Rican dish so I asked one of my friends who knows how to make it to show me the steps.

Y/n: Oooo imma try not to cry again but THANK YOU SO MUCH.

Jonah: Can we eat now

After Dinner

Y/n: I ate so much, I think I’m having triplets. But thank you once again. I was pretty nervous to come here because I didn’t know how y’all would react to me.

Karyn: Just know that when we get mad, it’s at Jeff cause he’s always the one that somehow messes up.

Jeff: What time is it?

Suzie: It’s 7pm. Should we watch Christmas movies and then open presents before bed?

Vardon: Let’s watch the Grinch

Jonah: *ignores Vardon* Any other suggestions? Please. ANY OTHER.

Karyn: Y/n what do you watch for Christmas.

Y/n: Well, my personal favorite is Jingle all the Way but the Christmas Line up in my family is usually Home Alone 2, A Diva’s Christmas Carol, A Very Brady Christmas, the I Love Lucy Christmas episode and other’s I can’t remember.

Jeff: I mean, we are in New York. Home Alone 2?

Everybody: Sure.

*After watching Christmas movies*

Jeff’s mom: It’s 9:45pm. I think we should be opening our one present before we go to bed.

Jeff: Youngest to oldest! So my niece goes first, then Vardon, Y/n, Suzie, Jonah, etc.

*Jeff’s nieces and Vardon opens their gifts*

Vardon: No way. Jeff got me airpods! Thank you *Hugs Jeff*

Jeff: You’re welcome. Now time for y/n to open her gift from me.

Y/n: Oooo okay. *opens gift and sees two little gold bracelets* what are these for?

Jeff: I always see babies w/ the small little charm bracelet. You mentioned your sister and you never got that from your parents but your older brother did. I wanted to do that for our girls even though they're not here yet. So once we pick out the names, we’ll get the charms.

Y/n: *sniffles* Dammit why do you keep making me cry.

Jeff: Cause I don’t want you to ever forget how much I love you.

Jonah: Can we move on from this sappy shit so I can open my gift.

Everybody: JONAH.

*After everybody opens their presents*

Y/n: Thank you so much for accepting me on such short notice.

Jeff’s mom: Hun we’re family now. You’ll always be a part of us. Same for the Antonyans. We know how much Jeff misses having us around since he’s been living in LA and y’all have been a family to him.

Jonah’s mom: I love Jeff like he my own son. He help us so much.

Jeff’s Dad: Y’all just have to make sure to visit us often. Get’s kind of lonely here w/ Karyn living in Kentucky, Jeff living in LA. I mean Steven lives in the city w/ his kids but we miss having all of you together here.

Jeff: I’m starting to think that having girls runs in the family. Karyn has a daughter, Steven has twin girls and now I’m gonna have twin girls.

Jeff’s mom: I mean you never know if the nurse made a mistake. They thought your brother was a girl for half my pregnancy. Then they did the last ultrasound a week before I gave birth to him and they said he was a boy.

Y/n: Oh god I don’t even want to think about that. I’m already stressed out about the babies possibly being deaf now I gotta be worried if the nurse misgendered them….

Karyn: The babies are gonna be deaf?

Y/n: Hmm?

Jeff’s dad: You just said there’s a possibility the twins will be born deaf.

Y/n: Fuck. I did say that, didn't I… Jeff, you wanna help me out here?

Jeff: Ummm. Damn we weren’t planning on telling anybody this for a couple of weeks. We got a call a couple of days ago after we did some genetic testing and the doctor said the babies have a high chance of being born hard of hearing/ deaf.

Karyn: My doctors told me the same thing. Luckily my daughter turned out fine

Steven: I wasn’t a carrier for the gene…

Jeff’s mom: We’ll love those babies no matter what. If we have to learn sign language for them, then we’d do it. I’ll fly out to LA once it gets close to the due date to help out.

Jeff: Thanks ma. Means a lot.

Y/n: Thank you so much. I don’t know if my own parents would forgive me by then to be there for the birth.

Jeff’s mom: Anytime sweetheart. My god look at the time, It’s 10:15, we have to go to bed before Santa comes.

Jonah: Haha, but santa isn-

Jeff: Jonah you better better not finish that sentence cause my nieces are here and I don’t wanna see the magic ruined for them.

Jonah: What I was saying was, isn't Santa a little late?… He should’ve been here by now…

Going to bed

Y/n: I am so stuffed. Christmas turned out a lot better than I thought.

Jeff: See, you had nothing to be afraid about. Also, good job on keeping the deaf thing a secret haha.

Y/n: Hey! It’s been on my mind since we found out. WAIT. Jonah and Suzie.

Jeff: What about them?

Y/n: they were there…. What if they tell everybody else.

Jeff: Suzie would never… Jonah on the other hand… I have little faith in him.

Y/n: I’m afraid to check my phone.

Jeff: Same. I haven't looked at it all day. On the count of 3…

Y/n: One….

Jeff: Two.

Y/n & Jeff: Three. *looks at phones*

Y/n’s phone: 82 text messages & 24 missed calls

Jeff’s phone: 77 text messages & 21 missed calls

Vlog Squad GC

David: Was what Jonah said true?

Natalie: Is it serious?

Jason: Y’all I’m so sorry

Zane: There has to be a way to fix it. My babies will be okay right?

Erin: I’ll postpone my wedding until the babies are okay

Carly: Oh no Carly and Erin jr :(

Corinna: The babies are gonna be deaf?

Mariah: Is it confirmed?

Heath: Have y’all seen other doctors?

Matt: Guys they’re busy. I don’t think we should be spamming them on Christmas.

Toddy: We’ll stop one they answer us!

David: I’ll put in whatever money you need for surgeries or anything.

Jason: Guys stop. They’ll tell us everything once they’re ready.

(end of conversation)

Jeff: I’m gonna kill Jonah.

Y/n: Oh hun, so will I…

The next chapter might take a bit because I’m still thinking what will be in it. You guys can give be suggestions and I can give you credit for it!

Comment if you want to be on the taglist!

Taglist: @elvlogsquad @siemprestan @zavidzobrik @galxydefender @iminlovewithenchilidadas @ilsolee @ranprivate @one-sweet-gubler @sunwardsss @shamalamashams @michellemxndes

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calypsoff · 3 years ago

Text

Eighty Six.

This sucks so bad, like this whole situation is horrible. Like Robyn really pushing through with this, she could at least come back home. I am not that bad, I made a mistake let me make it up to her but she is adamant in staying with Mel, Rorrey picks up Rylee and brings her here to me, I haven’t seen Robyn since we landed. That was a whole week ago, I have nothing to do but be at home and just run my business that Rorrey is of course helping me with, it is so kind of him to help me with everything. I was wondering if he hasn’t got better things to do then look after me but no, he said he doesn’t mind, he enjoys my company. Getting this home I didn’t think of moments like this, having to get down the steps by sliding down on my ass, it’s a whole mission but I don’t have my wife to help me. The bedsheets haven’t been changed since she’s left so this is fun, I can barely make the bed too, she did everything for me, literally did everything. But Robyn on the other hand, she is having fun since I have broke my leg. She has been out every night, I am seeing pictures of her out, I am jealous because she looks so well, she looks so happy and acting like I am not giving her heartache, but I am sorry. She does do one thing, cleans my clothes and sends them to me but still, I miss her a lot. Rylee is not filling the void at all “I can always hear you coming down” Rorrey laughed as he ate his cereal “I am not carrying you like that, I nearly died” I chuckled, we are dumb “I hate it because like by the time I be getting to bed I burn off all my food, then I be hungry again” shaking my head “should text me, I will bring you some food” nodding my head “I am glad you’re here though, thank you” it is nice of him “it’s fine, but I will say this. You need a cleaner to come, the home is getting dusty” I sighed out, he has a point “let me call Robyn” I joked “you want your head on a plate” Rorrey laughed “she would have your head nigga” he isn’t wrong.

Rorrey can cook, I have to give it to him. He’s been cooking for me every day “I’m gonna ring my dad, finally” Rorrey cheered “stop dodging your parents, they only want the best for you. Just tell them, you messed up” he laughed, I sighed out. I haven’t exactly told my parents about what happened to me, and that my leg is in a cast, I didn’t even tell them about Robyn and I falling out meaning that she left, they know we was arguing but not that she left the home, so this will be fun “son, I am working” oh he is, I forget that he does “sorry; you on a break or something. I really need to speak to you” the line went silent, that is a disapproving silence because I think he knows that I have fucked up more “Christopher” my dad said “yeah” he knows me well “I have time” I chuckled a little “so erm, yeah. Robyn isn’t living with me anymore; you know when you asked. I lied, I have been on tour with Drake all that time and not seeing my daughter, I didn’t spend Christmas with them either. I spent it alone at the house, she is with her friend. I didn’t spend new year with her either, I went out to Tyga’ new year party. But then we met up in New York, like Robyn had been trying to prove a point to me, a point I was ignoring so what happened was I heard drake admitting he was playing me all this time, that he wanted Robyn. I lost my temper and chased him, and we both fell down the steps and I broke my foot so now I am back home in a cast with a semi naked man in my kitchen” Rorrey laughed out “what is funny about this situation Chris, I am angry with you!” my dad didn’t like the joke at the end, but it was funny to me.

This is why I didn’t want to tell my dad any of this, I know what the reaction would be like, he can be so dramatic at times “I am in shock, so the times you have been calling me and your mother you have been single and going around places, like where? You spent New Years where?” my dad is angry as shit, I am glad I am not in VA, he would beat my ass “you stupid boy answer me!” he shouted “just like Canada and then toured with Drake to like near enough every city in the America, and went to parties and on the New Year I spent it with Tyga, and then stayed at his home” I mumbled “is any of this ok!?” he is shouting a lot “no dad, I understand what you are saying. And I know none of this is normal or good, I thought I would tell you because you needed to know” Rorrey cringed, I think he can hear my dad going crazy “we asked you, me and your mother facetimed you and you said we are ok but then it comes together, I asked to see Rylee and she wasn’t there, you are so stupid. Your wife has left you and you did all this!? You know how stupid you look, you aren’t no Picasso Chris, you are in the same position as me. You have a beautiful, respectful wife and she has left you and you do this!? She has left you Chris, how does it feel, I would be losing my mind over your mother, and you are pointless and pathetic, sitting there in her home in a cast. I am angry with you Chris, very angry, she has giving you so much life and opportunity and you give her shit, I was here! I was here when you were speaking to her. I didn’t raise that; you aren’t my son because I didn’t raise such a disrespectful boy. I kept saying jail changed him, yes jail did play a part but not every part, now you are plain stupid!” putting my head down, I am going to take it because he isn’t wrong, what can I say, I fucked up “first thing Chris, first thing in line is your wife is always right. When your wife says that friend is no good, he is no good! You don’t look the other way, he wanted your wife, and you didn’t listen, you heard the opposite, you practically blamed your wife in this. You judged her, I didn’t raise that no. I didn’t, I am so angry at you. That is your family Christopher, you left this home disrespectful, and you got there even worse” my dad would have beat my ass, I am glad I am not there at all.

I remained silent; I respect my dad so much. He is my everything and what he says is right so I wouldn’t back chat him like that “so now what? You have a broken foot, and my grandchild is where? I can’t believe you allowed your child to be away from you that long, you have the perfect opportunity to be there for her every day where I had to work, I am jealous of that, but you did that? So where are they now? What are you doing to fix this” chewing on my bottom lip, oh boy. This next part is going to be fun “she is with Mel, she bought me back home and said she isn’t coming home. We have been back for a week, and she has been out every night, what can I do with a broken foot dad!?” I spat “everything! You move the world, if the world stops you, you move it. What haven’t you learnt Chris, you knock on that door, you be there. Women will push and push and push until they can’t, and they will stop. You fight Chris, what do you want!? Do you want Robyn?” nodding my head “more then ever, I miss her so much, but she is really not wanting to hear me, you know?” Rorrey pointed at my plate before walking off, nodding my head at him “she doesn’t want to hear you, doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to see you. Do you expect her to come to you? A week alone is too long, you disrespected your wife and then more, you need to be there Chris” my dad is right “I have been laid back” I mumbled “moving aside how I am angry at you, you better. I mean it Chris, you fight for her and show her that you mean it. She loves you Chris, it’s so hard to find love and you got it, this is what you do?” I feel so bad right now.

Rorrey is quiet with me, he knows I needed time to think and just digest what my dad was just saying to me, he said a lot and honestly I do deserve it, I fucked up big time “I can’t eat, but thank you” I said “it’s cool” I feel bad I am wasting it “I upset your sister, but you are here for me? I just find it crazy, you know?” Rorrey smiled a little “my sister loves you Chris, if she didn’t I wouldn’t be here. She asked me to be with you, to stay with you because she didn’t want you to be alone, she is caring for you from afar but the longer you wait around it will get boring and she will see you as nothing, my sister doesn’t wait around, and I am shocked she is for you, but she is loves you. She said it’s me he upset, not you. She asked and I came, I am not going to get involved because honestly, it’s not like you cheated but you need to learn how to talk to my sister too, I don’t like it either, but we move forward” Rorrey is a good man “thank you, you think I should go to Mel’ home?” he chuckled “why not, your daughter is there. As long as I can drive your car then nigga I am down” I chuckled “of course, you can take it whenever” I don’t mind him driving them at all “Robyn is going to be fake annoyed to see you but ride the wave brother” I need too.

Everything is so tiring, meaning that I have to drag my leg around. Climbing into my Urus car was dreadful btu I got there “you know what Rorrey, I think I am going to get Drake back. I am going to air him out for this, what you think?” I need to get his advice, he knows his shit “why not, he hurt you. Maybe you can’t do anything meaning like beat his ass, but you can surely air him out for this shit, it is so childish and petty you know” that means I can, I have been deleting all the posts of Drake, everything. All traces of that nigga, I really fucking hate him for what he has done to me. Going onto my Instagram, I have a little something written out, I want people to know what kind of nigga he is, he is a bitch ass nigga, and it may be long as fuck this post, but niggas need to know that he ran from the fade he was going to get, going to my drafts. I have all this written out, I just needed Rorrey to say I should, and I should. Reading over the post that I made ‘Always believe and trust in your wife when she says the nigga is a bitch nigga, your wife knows who is real and who isn’t but y’all king is a bitch nigga. Someone that can’t handle rejection and then runs from a fade. I know y’all seen me with a cast on my leg, that is because this bitch @champagnepapi ran down the stairs because he couldn’t fight me, this nigga thing he could take my wife, this sick motherfucker that caught herpes from a stripper thinks he could be with my wife! I ain’t even going to get you nigga don’t worry; I am done with you and your sly team that lowkey hate each other. You can come at me with anything because I know I didn’t do anything on that tour. I just need y’all to know that it wasn’t some accident, if you ever look at my wife again I won’t miss’ pressing send on the post anyways, I don’t care anymore.

Stood behind Rorrey as we waited on Mel or whoever to open the door, they are taking their time anyways “they see me here ain’t they?” Rorrey laughed shaking his head, the door opened eventually “sorry, we were pointing on who was going to answer. Come in..” Mel dragged out “what a pleasant surprise, you came along?” nodding my head “to see my daughter” I sad, Mel moved out of the way to let us in “she is playing, well I say that but she is on her playmat” I hate these crutches so fucking much, making my way inside “Robyn is not here by the way” Mel added, I sighed out. I want to ask where, but I will anyways “where is she?” I had to ask “a meeting, so it’s just me, Tina and Rylee” I can wait for her, I need to be persistent in this. I need to get my wife back, I am so excited to see her, I love Robyn.

My mind really hasn’t been on Rylee at all, and it sounds bad of me, but I am just waiting for Robyn to come in, she is looking amazing. Like her body is just looking so good, she is doing the most of course but I need to get her back, stop her showing off her body like that I mean I ain’t like other niggas seeing it but who am I to be overprotective like that, I just need her back “this dumb bitch took us to the damn ghetto” my head shot to the door seeing Jahleel first “what you mean, what she done now?” Mel asked, “she wanted food and then we took a turning, we had her fans chasing us” my smile grew seeing Robyn all smiles, she is smiling and that is making me smile “I was hungry” she said, then she noticed me and her smile went “got lost?” she said, I cleared my throat “I came to see Rylee” I pointed out “should have asked, I could have delivered her to you” licking my top lip “I thought I would save you the trouble” the whole room is so silent, they are listening to us both and watching us “I prefer the trouble” she sniggered “clearly, anyways I am going to change” she walked off bag in hand, she is so fine and she looks so much more happier, maybe it’s me I don’t know but she is very vibrant, I am not sure what to do.

#chrianna fanfiction #chrianna #chriannaff #chrianna ff #fanfic #fanficiton

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violetwolfraven · 4 years ago

Text

Peace and Joy

@spot-king-of-brooklyn I’m your secret Santa! @newsies-secretsanta

You said your favorite ships are sprace and/or javid and you’re good with pretty much anything so I’m gonna write two separate vaguely holiday-related oneshots in the reincarnation AU. Don’t worry though nothing heavy, just fluff. No COVID because I’ve had enough of that dude and I say so. Enjoy! Happy Holidays!

Tw: referenced past period-typical homophobia.

...

Spot couldn’t remember being this happy... ever. Not in the early 1900s or in the early 2000s.

Well, the closest he could think of was 1902, when he and Race moved on from being newsies and from being leaders of their respective boroughs and rented that old apartment in Brooklyn together. But that had been muted by the need to be careful. They couldn’t be normal young people in love because they always had to hide.

And that was fine at the time because it was expected. It was them doing whatever it took to be together not knowing they’d ever get the chance to do it another way.

Now, in the bright, beautiful, forward-thinking 21st century, they could be safe. They could be in love without fear of the consequences. They could go out Christmas shopping together, and Spot didn’t know if that counted as a date, but it kind of felt like one as he watched his boyfriend bop a little to Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You as he looked around.

He ended up having to look away before he started blushing too hard. Even if he wasn’t the King of Brooklyn this time, he still had a bit of a reputation as a stone cold badass. For all he knew, one or more of their more mischievous friends could be spying on them right now. And besides, this thrift store probably had stuff he could get the few Brooklyn kids who’d come back, too.

He was still deciding if Hotshot would think it was funny if he got him a tank top that said ‘hot stuff’ on it. The others would find it funny, but Spot honestly wasn’t sure if it would make his former second uncomfortable.

“Hey, Spottie, ya think my little brother would like this?”

Spot turned back to see Race holding up a bright purple worm on a string, but a giant version of one. One that was big enough to be a scarf.

“Knowin’ your family,” he admitted, “I think any of ‘em would be happy to get one of those.”

It was true. Honestly, the most sensible Larkin brother was the second-oldest, Crutchie, but Spot could still see him proudly wearing a worm-on-a-string-scarf to school after winter break ended.

Besides him, Medda, Race’s mom, tended to embrace whatever unique fashion choice she could find. And Jack, of course, didn’t let being the oldest of four stop him from being a theatrical little shit who liked drawing attention to himself.

And Romeo was somehow even more eccentric than Race, so he would definitely like that thing.

Race grinned, “I’m gonna get Ro a worm scarf for Christmas.”

“Your family is ridiculous.”

“Thank you. So, what’re ya gettin’ for Denton?”

Oh, shit. Spot had completely forgotten about getting anything for Denton.

He really should get something for him. After all, the teacher hadn’t even known Spot when Jack asked if he could stay with him. All he’d needed to know was that Spot needed a place to hide from his terrible parents and couldn’t stay with the Larkins, mostly because Medda had a strict rule about her boys’ partners sleeping over unless it was absolutely necessary. (it was also because Spot couldn’t think of anyone he’d want to live with less than Jack Kelly, but Denton didn’t really need to know that, did he?)

So far, Spot’s parents hadn’t shown any signs of missing him, and Spot couldn’t decide if that hurt or not, but it barely mattered anymore.

Because Denton didn’t really have any rules beyond ‘do your homework’, ‘take a shower occassionally’, and ‘if you leave the house, let me know where you’re going.’ He helped Spot pick out a Halloween costume, let him spend Thanksgiving with Race, and gave him money for Christmas shopping. He was fine with Spot being gay and having a boyfriend, even if there was an added rule with that of ‘you can’t have the door closed if you’re alone in your room with Race.’

He gave Spot space, but also made it clear that he could come to him for anything he needed help with. He never hit him, never pushed when Spot wanted to be alone, never even raised his voice unless they were in an already-loud room and he needed to get his attention.

In short, in only a few months, he’d become the best adult Spot had ever had in his life. He wasn’t his father, but he was closest thing Spot had ever gotten to a dad.

The Denton they’d known in their last life had been kind of like that, too. He’d helped as best he could whenever one of the newsies got into trouble, always being there for anyone who needed him since Kath first introduced her new reporter friend to her newsie friends. Of course, Spot hadn’t been living with Denton then, so he’d never really thought about it.

“What do you even get a middle-aged man for Christmas?”

Race shrugged, “Power tools?”

The idea of getting Denton power tools was so ridiculous that they both laughed.

“Uh... he’s a writer,” Race pointed out, “So... fancy pens?”

“Fancy pens? We’re at a thrift store, Racer.”

“Well we don’t gotta stay here forever. There’s a Barnes and Noble across the street.”

He wasn’t wrong about that, but Spot wasn’t sure about the whole ‘fancy pen’ thing. It seemed a little generic.

“Yooooo! Spot, check this out for Jack!”

He was holding up a bright blue sketchbook that said ‘Sketchy Bitch’ on the cover.

“Oh yeah, ya definitely have to get that for Cowboy.”

Spotting (no pun intended) something else on the shelf behind him, Spot grinned.

He had the perfect thing to get for the man who’d taken him in.

...

“This is gonna be so fuckin’ awesome.”

Davey snorted, “You’re way too excited ‘bout this, Jackie.”

He loved his boyfriend, but he had a tendency to get overenthusiastic about things.

Well, he loved that about Jack, too. And he loved being able to call him his boyfriend, now. That they didn’t need to hide this time.

He and Sarah had both been a little worried about their parents’ reaction, but it had turned out to be for nothing. They’d each gotten a t-shirt with their respective pride flag for the first night of Hanukkah, and Jack and Kath were always welcome to come over as long as at least one parent was home.

Davey loved Jack just as much in this lifetime as he had in his first, but it was different, not having to hide it. It was good different, but definitely different. Being able to be who they were and be in love and knowing that it was generally frowned upon to be homophobic now, at least where they lived.

And being able to do random shit that was romantic and fun as hell, but not something would even occur to most people to do.

After a sleepy conversation once Crutchie, Race, and Romeo had fallen asleep watching White Christmas (which Davey appreciated for the choreography in the dance numbers) one time about how there weren’t really any Hanukkah movies, Jack had collaborated with Kath to write a lesbian Hanukkah musical romcom to post to YouTube.

Objectively, it wasn’t that great. It was good for a movie made by a bunch of high school juniors, but they couldn’t afford good cameras or microphones or anything. Plus, it was appealing to a very niche audience, so Davey doubted this movie would get more than twenty views.

Still, it meant a lot that Jack was so excited about it, that he was working so hard on props and editing in the lighting and music for it so Kath and Saz could play Jewish lesbians fake-dating at a holiday party who fall in love. It was cute.

“It ain’t gonna win any awards,” Jack admitted, “But I think we’s got somethin’ good here!”

“We do,” Davey agreed.

Was he actually talking about the romcom starring his sister and her girlfriend? Partially. It was a pretty good movie for something produced by teenagers.

But they had something good there that wasn’t on the screen of Jack’s laptop, too.

Jack seemed to share those thoughts, with the way he was smiling.

“What’s with the look, mi amor?”

Davey rolled his eyes as the other boy put his arm around his waist.

“Like you don’t know, love,” he chuckled, “Remember the last time we did somethin’ like this? And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you.’”

“Shh,” Jack shook his head, “Nope. We don’t talk about the latkes incident.”

“You mean when you almost burned down our tiny little kitchen trying to—“

“We don’t talk about it!”

Davey laughed. It was funny, how Jack couldn’t, in any lifetime, cook anything more complicated than like... chili or stew. While he could make something edible, he couldn’t make anything that was really considered good.

“Davey, love, luz de mi vida, it was literally over a hundred years ago, so stop. Bringin’. Up. The. Latkes. Incident!”

He punctuated the sentence by hitting Davey with one of his mom’s throw pillows.

“Okay, Jackie, I get it! Stop hitting me!”

“Fine,” Jack grinned, “I ain’t almost burned down a kitchen in over a century, babe. I thinks that’s a good record to have.”

“Most people never almost burn down a kitchen,” Davey pointed out, “I know I—wait, did you just call me ‘babe’?”

Jack was definitely not meeting his eyes to try to hide how he was blushing, “Uh... is that okay?”

Davey smirked. Jack didn’t get flustered that often, but it was adorable when he did.

And even if he had almost burned down their apartment, it had been cute back then, how he’d tried so hard to try to do something nice for Davey for the holiday season. It was cute now, too.

That was one thing that hadn’t changed through the decades, he guessed.

“It’s definitely okay, babe.”

...

“Spot, is this a... ‘Best Dad In The World’ mug?”

“...if you cry, I’m outta here.”

#newsies #newsies secret santa #btw i’m sorry i wrote in a nod to wormsies #i couldn’t help it #sprace #javid #javey #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #jack kelly #davey jacobs #reincarnation au #fluff #violet’s writing

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