#it was just at my friends back yard pool so it wasn’t like in public or anything lol

[rosicheeks]

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

18: Do you believe in karma?

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

9. Still can’t believe it but yes, 2 poems 🥺🫶

18. Yes

22. Yup 😇

51. Depends on the situation and how badly I was hurt.

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (6)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 9.4K+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, kissing, ableism, mention of past alcohol abuse, talk of previous sexual encounters, talks of bullying, probably poor swimming terminology, I also have no idea how swim events work so might be wrong about that too, talks of possible inappropriate coach-athlete relationship, lots of insecurities, survivor's guilt, lots of guilt and shame actually, reader needs to be kinder to herself, we all deserve a Jimin, he's still best boyfriend, SMUT, smut warnings under the cut...

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Smut Warnings: virgin!Jimin, both of them are inexperienced, bad past sexual experiences, vaginal fingering, praise, public sexual contact, denied orgasm (unintentional), very vanilla and tame all things considered

Jimin stood a few feet away, his hands tangled in his hair as he smeared a thick layer of gelatin through the strands. The sight of him working so meticulously brought a smile to my face. It was a familiar scene for synchronized swimmers, their hair slicked down with the sticky goo to ward off chlorine’s wrath. But I knew a few racers who swore by it too. Jimin had never bothered before I pointed out how his hair was looking increasingly parched from our relentless days in the pool. I had shown him how to do it a few weeks ago, and now it was a daily ritual for him.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, fighting the urge to reach out and trace my fingers over the smooth expanse of his back. The phases of the moon inked down his spine were an irresistible temptation; I longed to press my lips against the artwork.

The event had been a last-minute switcheroo—originally slated for solo swimmers covering 250 yards (10 laps in this community pool), but changed when the organizers realized the length of the meet would be an endurance test in itself. Now, competitors were grouped into teams of five, each swimmer tackling two laps. Jimin was content with his team but jittery about being assigned breaststroke, his weakest stroke. Yet, I had no doubts. After months of grueling practice, his team wasn’t about to falter.

“It is what it is,” he muttered, rinsing the gelatin from his hands. “I’m more bummed about having to redirect our donations, but at least it’s still going to cancer research. Can’t complain too much.”

“Just have fun,” I offered. “Trey got to pick the charity because he pulled in the most personal donations from your team. Just do your thing and it’ll be great.”

I fiddled with the collar of my polo shirt, still struggling to accept the coach’s uniform of polo and jeans. It seemed every other coach in the pool wore it, but I felt more like a middle-aged man at a barbecue than a swim coach. The Sketchers I wore didn’t help. Jimin had picked the dark blue color for me, which was comfy enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I looked ridiculous.

“You look great,” Jimin said, catching my eye in the mirror.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. He’d been saying that all day, but I struggled to take him seriously. My reflection told a different story—frumpy and awkward. At least the bit of makeup I’d applied managed to make me look somewhat alive.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, adjusting his swim cap. “You look nice in that color. I even like the eyeliner thing you did. You look pretty. You always look pretty.”

I smiled, wanting desperately to kiss him but feeling too on edge. We’d sworn to keep our relationship under wraps. This year was bound to be chaotic, and the last thing we needed was reporters sniffing around if the word got out. We were confident we could manage it, but as I let my eyes roam over his mostly naked body, and with the thrill of his compliment still fresh, I wasn’t so sure.

How was I supposed to keep my hands to myself when he looked like that? His presence was almost a tangible force, and the temptation was just too great. 

“Thanks,” I said, trying to mask the tension in my voice. “Are you almost ready to join the others? William seemed really excited to work with you.”

He shook his head, a pout forming on his lips, and the sight of it made my heart race. 

“Socializing is important,” I teased, reaching out to touch his arm. “What would people think if you spent all your time locked up in your changing room with your coach?”

A mischievous grin spread across his face before he leaned in and stole a quick kiss. I gave him a warning look, though the smile I couldn't suppress gave away my true feelings. 

“I think they’d take one look at you and understand.”

I giggled, “Such a flirt.”

Jimin wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. The heat of his bare skin against mine sent shivers down my spine. It had never really occurred to me that he might be doing this on purpose. Hoseok’s words still echoed in my mind. Right now, Jimin seemed at ease with physical intimacy, but I knew better. If I tried to take things further, he would retreat and change the subject. 

This was something we’d have to address when we got home. For now, I wanted to see how far we could push things. If he wanted to stop, we would. But I didn’t mind being the guinea pig for this exploration.

I hopped onto the bathroom sink, wrapping my legs around one of his. We had taken over the family restroom at the event center, Jimin having convinced the others he needed solitude to get “in the zone” before his swim. I trailed behind him dutifully, my sunglasses barely hiding my excitement.

Jimin’s hands traced down my sides as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He fit against me like a perfect puzzle piece. When his fingers slid under my shirt to grip my waist, I couldn’t help but grind my hips against his thigh. The jeans dulled the sensation, but I sighed in pleasure. Jimin froze.

“Sorry,” I murmured, nuzzling into his neck, mortified. “Got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, his voice deep and rugged, stirring something primal within me. I bit back the more selfish, needy side of me and just held him. If he couldn’t see my face, maybe he wouldn’t know how desperate I was. “Do you want to do it again?”

I leaned back to look at him. His shyness was evident, but he wasn’t scared. I needed to be sure before getting excited.

“Do you want me to?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

“Are you sure? We can talk about it later if you want.”

Jimin shook his head, his grip on my waist tightening. The sensation was almost too much to bear. I suppressed the intense arousal for his sake. I wasn’t going to get off on his thigh, especially with these jeans on, but I was willing to go along if it meant something to him.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said softly, as though confessing a secret. “I just don’t know if I’ll be good at it.”

“Baby,” I cooed, gently caressing his face. He avoided eye contact. “Hey, look at me.”

He did.

“Don’t worry about that stuff,” I whispered, kissing the tip of his nose. “Whatever we do together is going to feel good because we’re together.”

He shook his head, resting his forehead against mine. He seemed anxious, almost sad. I wished he’d open up more; it might ease his burden.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he groaned. “I want you so bad but I get nervous.”

I nodded. “That’s okay. You make me nervous too.”

We stood there, both caught in our tangled emotions. We had arrived early so Jimin could scout and time his warm-up routine before the event. I felt conflicted—my body was slick with desire, and despite knowing he was upset, I still wanted him to touch me. The fact that I was even keeping track of time for a quickie was almost criminal.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Chim,” I breathed, kissing his cheek. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Is it because you don’t want to or because you’re worried about me?”

I didn’t have a good answer. I didn’t want to make him feel guilty, but I was so afraid of hurting him that I struggled to articulate what I wanted. My fear of rejection was overshadowed by concern for him.

“Can I touch you?” he asked.

I nodded, “Of course you can. I’m just worried about you right now. You seem upset.”

His hands slowly traveled up my shirt. I leaned back slightly, granting him better access. His hands ventured higher, and he admitted, “I’m not very experienced. It makes me feel insecure.”

His hands stopped just below my bra. “I know you’re older and have been with more people.”

I nodded, understanding his hesitation. I didn’t need the whole story to grasp what he was trying to tell me.

“I’ve only been with one person,” I confessed. “You don’t have a reason to be insecure. It’s just me. Just us.”

He kissed me, and my fingernails dug into his shoulders. He pulled away, and I nearly cried out in frustration. He was driving me insane.

“It was one for me too,” he said, his hands tracing down my back. “It couldn’t… perform.”

The pieces fell into place. He was a virgin. It all made sense now.

“Did you ever…?” I asked, kissing up his neck.

“No. She told a bunch of her friends, and I got picked on for a while. I never tried again. Swimming took up so much of my time that it never came up.”

My heart broke for him. I wanted to know who had hurt my beautiful boy. I took a moment to calm myself, planting gentle kisses on his skin to soothe him.

“Fuck her,” I said softly.

He chuckled, his hands moving back to my stomach, then lower. I bit his ear playfully, and he moaned, slipping his hand into my pants. I could barely contain my pleasure. 

“We’re not having sex here,” I said, trying to ease the pressure. “I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

He nodded, his gaze focused on my lap. He was still touching me over my panties, and the sensation was almost unbearable. I was almost ashamed of how wet I was, but after months of frustration, it felt almost justified.

“What time is it?” he asked.

I lifted my wrist. “We have twenty minutes before warm-ups.”

He nodded, slipping a finger into my panties. I jolted at the cold touch. He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

“Do you want to stop?”

I shook my head, “Not if you don’t want to.”

He looked into my eyes as his finger gently traced up and down my folds. I sighed in relief, letting my eyes slip shut, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me. 

His finger pressed against my entrance, and when he felt no resistance, he pushed it in all the way. I moaned, opening my legs wider. His movements were tentative at first, but soon became more confident, his strokes deep and deliberate. My body was on fire with need.

“Right there,” I choked out, leaning back into the mirror.

His fingers hit the same spot again, and I shuddered, trying to muffle my cries. Jimin’s touches were more assured now, making my toes curl.

“Yeah?” he cooed, adding another finger. My eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “You’re so perfect.”

I could feel myself shaking, my hands gripping his arm for support. I was so close, and my muffled moans were becoming harder to control.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My eyes flew open. I looked at Jimin, then the door, and back to him. His pupils were almost entirely dilated, and he was flushed a pretty pink. His fingers were still deep inside me.

“Tara?” a voice called out. “Are you in there?”

“Wrong bathroom,” Jimin called out, fingers still moving. I watched him, biting my lip to keep quiet. “Sorry.”

“Oh! My bad.”

The man’s footsteps faded away.

“Time?” he asked.

I checked my watch and sighed. Jimin slowly withdrew his fingers, and I almost choked on my own breath when he put them in his mouth. 

“Later,” he promised.

It was a promise that weighed heavily. I fought between being his girlfriend and his coach. The girlfriend wanted to forget everything else and keep him here. The coach knew better and that I would regret keeping him from something so important to him. 

“Let’s go kick some ass,” I said, kissing him one last time before sliding off the counter. “You leave first. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

He scoffed and took my hand. “I’m not leaving you after what we just did.”

“Such a gentleman,” I giggled, leaning into his side. “Make sure no one’s around, and we’ll leave together.”

We were the first ones at the pool, a handful of reporters already lurking around the bleachers, eager to catch the first glimpse of the swimmers. Jimin and I had let go of each other before entering the pool room, our roles as coach and trainee now firmly back in place. My steps slowed as I turned to him.

“I’ll hang back,” I said, my weariness of the press still gripping me. No one seemed to recognize me yet, and Jimin was an effective buffer. “Go and play nice.”

He flashed me a grin. “I’m an American sweetheart, angel. The people love me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, sweetheart, you better start talking. We’ve got warm-ups to do. Unless you want to cramp up and lose. If that’s your plan, be my guest.”

As Jimin charmed the cameras, I mentally reviewed our plan for the day. Regardless of the outcome, we were hitting the town for food and drinks. It was a perfect way to build rapport and expand our network. The more connections we made, the more likely someone would pass our name to a sponsor.

It struck me as odd that Jimin wasn’t a sponsor or ambassador for any major brands despite his popularity. When I asked him about it, he mentioned Hamilton’s belief that endorsements would be a distraction. His mother thought Hamilton was just jealous of Jimin’s success. I had to side with Nayeon on this one.

I was already working on securing a deal with Nike or Adidas. Their sportswear was among the most recognized worldwide, and getting Jimin’s face out there would set him up nicely for life after the Olympics. He had at least one, maybe two, more Olympics before retirement, and sponsors could provide the financial cushion he needed while he focused on swimming.

I’d reached out to an old contact at Speedo, who was eager to get the endorsement process rolling. Miguel, the rep I’d always dealt with, was thrilled about the newest hot swimmer in town. A shipment of gear was on its way, and I was awaiting confirmation from advertising about a potential campaign. I hadn’t anticipated this, but Speedo seemed eager to be one of Jimin’s first endorsements. I planned to discuss it with him once the charity event was over.

“Ready?”

I jumped, Jimin’s laugh ringing in my ears. 

“Yeah, yeah,” I teased. “Laugh it up. Just take off your clothes and get in the water.”

Jimin stuck his tongue out at me, peeling off his jacket and tossing it on his gear bag. His flip-flops followed, and before long, he was in the water. I stood at the edge, watching him as he began his laps. This was more about stretching than training, and I reminded him to take it slow.

The pool began to fill with other swimmers practicing their strokes. Jimin and the others tagged each other in and out, getting used to the relay transitions. I watched with pride. His breaststroke was impressive. His progress was a testament to his hard work, and I felt honored to be part of his journey. Relationship aside, he was dedicated, and it was a pleasure to work with him.

“He looks good,” Coach Tyler Moore said, his gaze fixed on Jimin. “Better than when he was with that other guy. Kid’s a beast.”

“Good for a short guy,” Nicole, another coach, joked.

Jimin’s height was always a topic of discussion. His shorter stature seemed to be a disadvantage, especially against the taller Olympic swimmers. Most of the men in the category were at least six feet tall, and the women were often taller than Park, myself included.

“He’s a great swimmer,” I replied. “He’s fast and strong. Could probably bench-press a bear if he tried.”

Tyler chuckled. “Do you think he’ll place at the Olympics?”

I nodded. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Girl’s a recluse,” a familiar dry voice drawled beside me.

I chuckled. Summer Lewis, an old friend from high school, had unexpectedly shown up. It was a welcome surprise that eased some of my nerves.

“Thought hell would freeze over before she was back in public,” Summer said. “Do you even leave the house?”

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep the smile on my face. “Obviously. I’m here right now.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked, glancing at me as the others dispersed to speak with reporters. “Leg holding up?”

“Yeah. I still get some pain, especially in the cold, but I’m managing. Alive, so I can’t complain too much.”

The same couldn’t be said for Namjoon. I pushed that thought aside. There was no room for survivor’s guilt today. I was happy. Everything was coming together. He would be happy for me. But he’s dead.

I took a deep breath, my anxiety escalating. The reporters were closing in, and the thought of interacting with them made me physically ill. My stomach churned, and I fought to keep the panic at bay. It was irrational, but I was sweating like a pig.

“Do you miss it?” Summer asked, gesturing toward the pool.

“All the time,” I admitted, a bead of sweat trickling down my neck. “Hey, I’m going to use the bathroom real quick. Let Park know if he starts looking for me.”

Summer nodded. “We’ll be starting in ten.”

“I’ll be back before then.”

Jimin looked my way as I glanced back at him. He gave me a thumbs-up, and I nodded in return, signaling that I’d be back shortly. He needed to stay focused on the water and his team.

I squeezed my hand into a fist, tucking my thumb underneath my index finger and popping it through the other side. I waved my wrist, signaling that I needed to use the restroom. He nodded, and I saw him relax a bit. Good. I just needed a few minutes to collect myself.

I splashed water on my face, my reflection in the bathroom mirror staring back at me. Today was overwhelming. My anxiety was through the roof, and the makeup on my face felt like a mask. It looked fine, as it always did, but it only made me feel more insecure. I looked like I was trying too hard, and everyone knew it. God, I was such an idiot.

And then there was Jimin.

I let a single tear slip. It was inappropriate and disrespectful. He was so nervous and scared, and I’d brushed off his vulnerability because of what? I hadn’t had any in a while? I was no better than the men I despised.

I gave myself two minutes to cry, letting the guilt and shame flow out. Once my watch beeped, I dabbed my face with tissues and fixed my hair. Whatever was going on with me would have to wait. Jimin was counting on me.

As I opened the bathroom door, I collided with a solid chest. I stumbled back, barely catching myself on the wall. The person I bumped into remained still.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, adjusting my clothes. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine.”

The voice was unmistakable. 

Standing in front of me was Matthew Hamilton, his blonde hair starting to silver and slicked back with too much hairspray. His pale blue eyes, devoid of warmth, still unsettled me. He was built like an ox and as healthy as ever, but age was catching up.

“Good to see you, Otter,” he said, his tone dripping with boredom. “Seems like you got stuck with my leftovers.”

I was too furious to speak. How dare he speak about Jimin like that? I had to hold myself together before I lost control. I was already at my breaking point, and his condescending attitude was the last straw.

“Too bad they couldn’t find a swimmer up to your caliber,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to the offense. “Even with a limp, you deserve better than Park. Kid’s got no spirit, and don’t even get me started on the drinking.”

I scoffed. “Jimin doesn’t drink.”

“Not anymore, maybe,” Hamilton said casually, as if trying to make small talk. “He used to drink like a fish until his brother died. Working with him was a nightmare. Glad you’re not dealing with that shit with your bum leg.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my leg,” I snapped, at least making him look slightly chastised. “And for the record, that ‘nightmare’ you keep talking about beat your personal best in his last competition. So if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than listen to a has-been who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

I shoved past him, barely moving him an inch. My steps were heavy as I stalked down the hallway, my anger searing through me. I knew my face betrayed my emotions, and the cameras would catch every detail. It was almost enough to make me turn back and hide in the bathroom.

But I had someone counting on me, and he was far more important than protecting my pride.

Jimin was standing with the group when I returned, three minutes to spare. He clocked something was off right away, and so did Summer.

“What crawled up your ass?” she asked.

“Some dumb bitch,” I huffed, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. “I bumped into an asshole on my way out of the bathroom.”

“Are you okay?” Nicole asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Do we need to tell security?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I think I gave him enough of an earful to keep him the hell away from me.”

I didn’t want to reveal who had bothered me. It would only cause unnecessary drama and upset Jimin. We had an event to focus on. 

“Let's go over the plan one more time.” 

Taking over as head coach, I directed the team. The others were happy to hand over the reins, and the boys took direction well. We reviewed the order of events, their best times, and their confidence levels. After a pep talk and some words of encouragement, it was time for the boys to swim.

Jimin was third in our group of four, and I watched him intensely. How well he performed today would set the tone for the rest of the season. He was signed up to compete in the breaststroke event at the Olympics, along with other solo swimming events. I knew just how skeptical people were about his chances. Today’s performance could reignite interest in him, which was crucial for securing sponsors.

Jimin took his place on the block, laser-focused and ready to dive in as soon as Trey tagged him. Trey was the fastest in the pool today, giving Jimin a head start before the others were halfway back across.

I held my breath. Jimin was a bullet in the water. Not as perfect as I wanted, but much improved. He reached the touchpad and pushed himself back across the pool. Team 3 was catching up, but Jimin would finish first. I watched as he gave one final push and tagged in D’Angelo.

Take that, you old bastard, I sneered internally. My anger surprised me; Hamilton deserved my contempt. No one gets to talk about Jimin like that. Ever.

D’Angelo butterflied us to victory. Our team hugged each other as the announcer declared our win to the cheering crowd. The bleachers were filled, the audience screaming their praise at the four men. They basked in the glory. All I could do was stare at my pretty boy’s smile in awe.

I really did love him.

Even if I didn’t tell him right now, I knew in my heart that I did. I went up against Matthew fucking Hamilton for him, came to this charity function, and kept it together. Now, I was going to talk to some news reporters, all because I loved him.

I love him, I love him, I love him…

“You’re a damn good coach, Y/N.”

I turned to smile at Summer. She was beautiful, her brown eyes warm and kind. She reminded me of Giselle, but her features were sharper, her nose broader. I remembered us cutting up after placing in nationals right after we turned 21. I hadn’t thought about her in so long I forgot what it was like to miss her.

“So are you. D’Angelo is one of the best I’ve seen for his age group. How old is he?”

“Sixteen. Turning seventeen next month. Hope he’ll be Olympics-ready next time, but I don’t know if he’ll stick with it.”

“He will. You can see it in his eyes.”

D’Angelo was talking to Jimin, the high schooler bubbly and starry-eyed. He had a slight stutter and kept apologizing about his tics. D’Angelo had Tourette’s and clicked his tongue and winked a lot. He attached himself to Jimin once they got comfortable, and my boyfriend told me he had followed the younger swimmer on social media.

“Where does he go to school?”

“Pioneer High,” she replied. “His family moved to Ann Arbor a few weeks ago. He was going to school out here in Allendale.”

What a small world.

“Does he need a new coach?” I asked. “I’m out in Saline. It’s only twenty minutes away from Ann Arbor.”

Summer seemed excited about the prospect of us working together. She said this was their last meet as coach and student, and she was sad to see him go since he was the only person serious about swimming professionally on their team. I gave her my contact information and asked her to pass it on to D’Angelo’s parents. I saw potential in him and wanted to keep that fire in his eyes.

“He’s going to be so excited.”

“Well, he’ll have to wait until after the Olympics,” I reminded her. “I’m up to my neck in work right now.”

“What about weekends?” she countered.

“Maybe Saturday,” I sighed. “We’ll see. I’m not sure if I want to commit to it right now. I’ll be in hell until July. Between Nationals and all the other competitions Hamilton signed him up for, we’re not getting any breaks.”

Summer hummed, eyeing the reporters. They had gone to speak with the boys, all of whom seemed eager to share their happiness about the win. St. Jude’s would be getting a hundred thousand dollars from today’s event. Reaching into my pocket, I asked Summer if she had recorded the race.

“Nicole did,” she told me. “She sent it to the group chat already.”

“Excellent,” I grinned. “Jimin’s mom wanted to see him swim. She was so disappointed she couldn’t come.”

I felt Summer watching me as I unlocked my phone. Watching the video, I was pleased at how well-shot it was. You could see all of our boys on full display. I thanked Nicole for the video and saved it. Pulling up Neyeon’s number, I sent the video and promised her to have Jimin call her as soon as he was available.

“You two together?”

I looked at Summer, keeping my face neutral.

“Sorry if I’m overstepping,” she laughed. “It’s just…you two seem very close.”

I raised an eyebrow. Lying wasn’t something I did often, and this felt wrong but necessary. I didn’t want anyone to know about us. It took one person saying the wrong thing, and we’d be up shit’s creek come July. Our relationship was frowned upon by SafeSport and would be considered imbalanced.

“We’re not.”

Summer did not look convinced.

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Y/N. You’re just a trainer while he’s still in Michigan. A stand-in until Bunch finds him a new coach. We all know that, and you’re not breaking the code of conduct.”

“I’m not a temp,” I sighed. “We haven’t disclosed anything yet. I wanted to wait until after the Olympics, but I’m afraid I’ll have to step down before that happens.”

Summer placed a hand on my shoulder. “He’ll be in Colorado in April, right? Tell Bunch your job as coach is over and you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“You don’t get it,” I shook my head. “Ozzie wants me to be his permanent coach. That’s been the expectation this entire time, and I know Jimin would want the same.”

“Well, he can’t have his cake and eat it too,” she said, glancing at the reporters. “Get him to understand the position you’d be in. I’m sure if you told him your romantic relationship would make you look bad, then he’d be more willing to get help elsewhere.”

“He wants to finish the season with me by his side. It was the only compromise he was willing to listen to.”

“Put your foot down. Find other options. Christmas is around the corner. Spring won’t be too long after that. You should step down before Oswald finds out. Don’t screw yourself over, babe. You’ve worked too hard for this to let some kid take it away from you.”

I snorted, “He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“No,” she argued. “He’s being selfish. You both are.”

I knew she was right. I should have waited until I was no longer attached to him in this way before starting anything. I knew it from the beginning, and I still allowed myself to be in this position. Summer had a point. Finding him a permanent coach before we went to Colorado in April was a good idea. If I was just a trainer, then nothing would be inappropriate, and I could still help him out in the gym.

“Are you looking for anything?” I joked.

Summer laughed. “Girl, I’d love to work with that boy, but I don’t think we’d line up this year. I have kids now. I can email you a few recommendations.”

“Thanks, Summer. I don’t know how big of a deal it’s going to be, but I’ll talk to Bunch about it.”

“Anytime, Otter. I’m just speaking from my experiences. He might tell you something different. Don’t spiral over it. I know you.”

I always hated that stupid nickname, but I had to put on a smile. Cameras were coming our way, and I needed to be sure I was on my best behavior. For Jimin’s sake.

The interview went better than I expected. I didn’t have to talk about myself a single time, and it didn’t look like any of the reporters here knew who I was. It wasn’t pleasant, but I couldn’t complain. We spoke for five minutes before they moved on to the others. Taking that as my cue, I went to collect my athlete.

We had a lot to talk about tonight.

Jimin smiled when I approached. The other three boys greeted me just as eagerly, and I was more than happy to hand out my praises. D’Angelo and Trey went to mingle with the losing teams. Paul went to find Nicole, leaving Jimin and me alone.

“You look upset,” he said, handing his duffle bag over when I held out my hand. “Something the matter?”

“No,” I shook my head and smiled. “Nothing’s wrong. I just need to talk to you later.”

“Is it bad?”

“Not bad,” I reassured him. “Something private. I don’t want to do it here.”

“Okay, Coach.”

That night, as I lay in bed, I thumbed through the email Summer had sent me earlier. Jimin had been invited out with the other boys, and I had pushed him to go. I told him I had paperwork and reports to handle, that he should enjoy his night off. He seemed reluctant but left anyway.

The truth was, I wasn't ready to have this conversation with him. Every time I tried to bring up our relationship, he brushed it off, saying he was fine with waiting until after the Olympics. But I knew better. It would look worse if we waited until he won a medal to disclose everything. I was his coach, temporary or otherwise, and it was my responsibility to make sure boundaries weren't crossed.

I should have never come here. Not when I knew exactly how I felt about him before I did. I was such an idiot.

Finally, ready to face the music, I called Ozzie. It was still early in Colorado, but I knew he'd answer. I never called him unless it was important. Maybe, if I was lucky, Whitney would pick up, and I could chat with her first. She always had a way of helping me get my head straight before unleashing my worries on Ozzie.

"Hello?" No such luck tonight.

"Hey, Oz," I greeted, the worry in my voice making me want to hang up. "How are you?"

"Fine. What's wrong, Otter?"

I sighed, "I fucked up."

"Tell me about it."

So I did. I spent half an hour unloading everything that had happened since I moved to Michigan. How attracted I was to Jimin, but how I pushed those feelings aside to coach him. The months of slowly building longing. Sushi night in Detroit. The date when I came back from visiting home. The kiss on his couch. The brief sexual encounter this morning (though I left out most of those details). I told him everything.

To his credit, Oswald just listened. He only spoke every so often to clarify something or ask about a small detail I left out. As my story came to a close, the pit in my stomach felt like someone was sitting on me. My hands began to tremble.

"I'm so sorry, Ozzie," I cried. "You trusted me, and I fucked it all up."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he finally said, his voice soft and gentle. "Summer was being dramatic earlier. What you two do is your business as long as you disclose it."

"But-"

"Katinka Hosszú and Shane Tusup are married. Coach-athlete relationship. They've disclosed it, and they're fine. You and Park are doing the same thing. I'll let everyone else know, and you'll be fine once the Olympics come around."

"I just don't want to be a bad person, Oz."

"You're not," he soothed. "You did the right thing by telling me. I'm happy for you, Y/N. You've been alone for too long, and that kid needs someone like you in his corner. He's been through a lot."

Wiping my face, his words brought back my encounter with Hamilton. The words he used to describe Jimin were so far from reality, but I still couldn't find it in me to not believe him. Matthew was a jerk, a stupid one at that, but he was sincere in his annoyance.

"I ran into Hamilton today. He said some shitty things about Jimin. Called him a drunk."

Ozzie cursed under his breath.

My heart rate sped up. So it was true? But that didn't make sense. Jimin didn't even drink. I had never heard of a drunk who didn't drink. Unless he was in recovery.

I thought about my dad. He'd been sober for five years now. It was one of the only compliments I could give his new wife. She kept him on the straight and narrow. Imagining Jimin in my childhood basement, too drunk to stand up, crying for a wife that wasn't coming back felt wrong. I could never put him in that position. That wasn't him at all.

"That's something you should talk to him about."

"But it's true?"

"To an extent," Ozzie admitted. "I wouldn't call him a drunk, but the kid can hold his liquor. He was worse a few years ago, but he's been great for a long time. Hamilton is just exaggerating."

But I had a gut feeling he wasn't.

"Thanks for talking to me, Oz."

"Anytime, Y/N," he chuckled. "And delete that damn email. He doesn't need a new coach. You're working magic on him."

"Night."

"Night."

Tossing my phone on the bed, I slammed my laptop shut and put it on the nightstand. Today had been a disaster. We came here and won, did exactly as well as I had hoped, but it felt hollow. I didn't know who to believe. Summer's concerns were valid from an academic coach's perspective, and I understood her worries. It was strange to me as well. Ozzie was a far more reliable source, but it felt too easy. Things were never that simple for me, and it was difficult to calm down enough to believe what he said.

Curling into a ball, I stared at the front door. He'd be back soon, and I'd have to explain my strange mood. I knew he'd be upset with me for sending him away after saying we needed to talk, but I hoped he'd forgive me once I explained why I needed space to think. So many decisions needed to be made, and I knew I would only hurt him if I tried to do anything before screwing my head back on.

For now, I decided to go by Ozzie's advice. If any issues came up, we'd deal with them together. As a team. Jimin would prefer it that way, and I could take some of the pressure off my shoulders.

A beep. A wiggle. Another beep. The door opened.

"Stupid keycard doesn't work right," Jimin grumbled to himself, slipping out of his shoes. "I knew there was a reason it was so cheap."

I slowly sat up and watched him. His hair was in his eyes, and his skin looked a little pale, but he seemed to be in a good mood. I couldn't smell alcohol either.

I wanted to punch myself in the face.

I wasn't ready for that conversation yet, but I knew avoiding it would only make things worse. If I let my mind wander, it would spin the worst story ever told, and I'd constantly be checking to make sure he wasn't drunk.

Jimin didn't drink, I told myself. Jimin's been doing great.

He went straight to the bathroom, giving me a few minutes to collect myself. I needed to be honest but cautious. If I told him word-for-word what Hamilton had said, it would only make him feel bad. Starting with the good news first might help. Maybe learning that we didn't have to hide our relationship status going forward would ease the sting of his old coach's words.

I would have to approach this delicately. The toilet flushed. The water ran. The bathroom door opened. It was showtime.

"Had fun?" I asked him, knees pressed against my chest.

He smiled at me, "They're all really nice. Wish you were there."

"Next time," I promised. "Want to put the TV on?"

Jimin shrugged, "Sure. Food Network?"

"Chopped might be on."

It was actually Iron Chef, but we both liked that show too, so we kept it on. I tried not to stare at Jimin as he got undressed. He only wore a shirt and boxers to sleep, so it was very distracting. I needed to be focused and ready for anything.

Climbing into bed, he wrapped an arm around my waist and buried his face into my side. I was still sitting up, cradling my legs, but Jimin's whining finally got me to relax. Sliding down, I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him throw the blanket over me.

This was my happy place.

"I missed you," he mumbled, fingers playing with my hair.

"I missed you too," I told him. "Sorry I've been weird."

"What's wrong, angel?"

I felt my eyes welling up. "Good or bad?"

"Good."

I took a deep breath.

"I told Coach Bunch about our relationship. He said we'll be fine, and he's going to put in a disclosure form with the board for us. We'll probably get an email to sign a few documents in a couple of days."

He kissed my forehead, a large, toothy grin overtaking his entire face. I couldn't help but smile back. I knew it would make him happy. Gripping my hair, he yanked my head forward for a kiss. He couldn't stop smiling even as our lips collided. His joy eased some of my anxiety about the conversation that was to come.

"I'm so happy right now," he giggled, kissing me again. "I can finally show you off like the pretty girl you are."

Relenting, I tightened my grip around him. I needed to focus on the good. Jimin wasn't going to get mad at me for being honest, and I had to hope Hamilton being a jerk wouldn't burst our perfectly formed bubble.

"I ran into Coach Hamilton today."

Jimin's smile dropped in sync with my heart.

"He said some things," I averted my gaze. "It upset me. That was my issue when I came back from the bathroom."

"What did he say?"

I shook my head, "It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter."

Jimin cupped my cheek.

"You were upset before you went. Why?"

I sighed, burying my face in his neck. It was easier to talk to him when I didn't feel his eyes on me. It never ended. The anxiety. The shame. The guilt.

"I just felt so bad about the bathroom thing. You told me to drop it, but it's still there. I don't want to make you feel pressured. I want you to feel loved when I touch you. I just want to make you feel good, Jimin."

"You do," he soothed, kissing my head. "You make me feel amazing. There's nothing wrong with the things we do. We're going to be okay."

I couldn't help but cry. I loved him so much. I could never, ever, let him go. He was everything I ever wanted. Perfect.

"And then, here comes this goddamn asshole," I cried, the words spilling out of me like a busted dam. I was past the point of no return, the fury and frustration rolling off me in waves. Any semblance of calm had fled, replaced by a raw, unfiltered torrent of emotion. 

"He kept yammering about my 'bum leg,' saying you were no good, calling you a drunk. I don't know what came over me, but I just snapped. I never lose it like that, but I did. And now, I feel like I've ruined everything—your meet, your moment. And to top it all off, I went behind your back and talked to Ozzie—"

"Stop." Jimin's hands were on my face, his grip firm but gentle, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Stop it. Please, don't hide from me. You didn't ruin anything, angel. I promise. I'm so happy we won, and you talking to Bunch is the best gift anyone’s ever given me."

I shook my head, unable to accept his words. The day had spiraled into a nightmare, and I felt responsible for every second of it. I couldn't celebrate with him, couldn't touch him, couldn't even look at him. I was a failure. I was a mistake. This whole thing was a mistake. I was going to ruin his career. His life. His—

"One," he took a deep breath. "Two," then another. "Three," he kissed my forehead. "Come on, angel girl. Breathe with me."

I blinked, following his lead. One deep breath in. One big exhale out. One breath in. One breath out. One, two, three, four; five. Ten, nine, eight, seven; six. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. 

"There you go," Jimin mumbled. "Just calm down. I'm not mad. I promise you I'm not mad."

I nodded, my breath catching up with me. With my head cleared, the weight of my earlier words hit me like a sledgehammer. So much for being gentle and kind. I wanted to punch myself in the face. God, I was a horrible girlfriend.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "That was unnecessary. And selfish. And wrong. I promised myself I'd stay calm, and then I just freaked out on you."

Sitting up, I wiped my face roughly, angry at my tears. I was too old to act like this when I was upset. I needed to learn how to stay composed and communicate. No one wants to deal with a crybaby who explodes all the time.

"It's okay to be upset," he replied. "That's a lot to handle alone, and you did so well today. I want you to know you can have these moments with me. It's what I'm here for."

"But you shouldn’t have to."

"I want to," he said, grabbing my face again. I hadn’t realized I had looked away. "I want to because I love you."

Automatically, I laughed. My disbelief was so great I was positive Ashton Kutcher would jump out of the bathroom and tell me I was getting Punk’d. But this wasn’t 2003. It was 2024, and no one had thought about that blemish on MTV’s record in over a decade. This was just me and Jimin in our hotel room, and he was telling me something profound, and all I could do was laugh.

He cracked a smile. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I shook my head, almost giddy with joy. "Nothing. I don’t know why I can’t stop laughing."

His smile widened. Sitting up, he leaned in and kissed my cheek. I squeaked, giggled, and threw myself at him.

My mood swings had to be exhausting. I knew I had to be as well.

But he loved me. Jimin loved me. Even if I was the most exhausting girlfriend, he loved me.

"I love you," he repeated, his eyes soft and glowing with unmistakable fondness. "I don’t like it when you talk about yourself like that."

"I love you, too," I whispered back like a secret. "I’m sorry."

He shook his head. "Don’t feel bad for telling me these things. You’re not ruining anything for me. I’m just happy you’re giving me the privilege to hold you when you’re down. You’re a suffer-in-silence type."

I snorted. "Woe is me."

Jimin leaned back and took me with him. Laying across his chest, I got comfortable and stared at him. He was the prettiest man I had ever seen. He needed a haircut soon. It was past his ears and too hard for him to manage. I’d let him go early next week so he could fit in a trip to the barber.

"There’s nothing wrong with your leg, by the way."

I snickered. "I told him the same thing. May or may not have called him a has-been, too."

That made Jimin laugh. The sound was like music. I loved it when he was happy. I was worried he was putting his feelings aside to make me feel better, but I had to force myself to let him come to me on his own time. Whatever Jimin wanted was what I wanted, and if he wasn’t ready to tell me about his past yet, I would accept that.

Because I loved him. And he loved me. I smiled. He loves me.

"You have questions, right?"

"About the drunk comment? Sure, but you don’t have to say anything. You can talk to me or not, and I’ll still be here."

He regarded me for a moment before nodding. "Thank you."

I simpered. "You’re welcome."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Wanting to break the tension, I made a show of stretching my arms above my head. Yawning melodramatically, I curled up against his side. Jimin’s arms wrapped around my waist as if they were always meant to be there. As it turned out, a new episode of Chopped had come on.

Jimin was very pleased with this, and we lapsed into a comfortable silence as we watched the chefs open their baskets. We had gotten lucky enough to only miss the introductions. For their appetizer basket, they got mofongo (something I had never heard of before), English peas, sparkling cider, and catfish filets. I marveled at the ingredients. I would have been utterly clueless.

"What’s mofongo made of?" I asked Jimin.

"Mashed up fried plantains," he replied calmly. "They put garlic paste and chicharron in it. You’d usually eat it with beef broth, but it can change depending on the recipe. It’s a Puerto Rican dish. I only heard about it after swimming with Luis Rivera at Nationals. It’s really good."

"It sounds good. Summer? Her family is Nigerian, and if we were lucky, her mother would bring these massive pots of food to our training sessions when we were in the U.S. Olympic swimming team back in 2012. I dream about her jollof rice. And the soups? Don't even get me started."

I watched as one chef used the mofongo to create a marinade for his catfish and raised an eyebrow. Points off for lack of creativity. Another person had taken the mofongo and turned it into a thick gravy. Both seemed like safe choices, but at least they were using it. The other chef hadn’t even touched it. They were very focused on a pot of boiling potatoes and frying the fish.

"Boiling more potatoes seems pointless," I muttered.

"Let him cook."

I snorted. "Yes, sir."

Jimin was right, of course. A few moments later, the man was mixing the potatoes and mofongo together to make a hybrid of sorts. After that, he assembled his fish pie. He used the cider to make a base gravy for the fish and peas, added in a few other veggies for more flavor, and piled on the potatoes. I did not think I would like the flavor of fish with heaps of mash on them, but it looked delicious as he plated them. Far better than the other two’s strange and avant-garde style.

It just wasn’t something I would consider an appetizer.

"That’s an entire meal," Jimin scoffed. "He’s going home."

"Get out of my head, kid."

He kissed my cheek. "Make me."

"Punk."

"You love me."

"I do."

"Say it again," he giggled.

I rolled my eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he sighed happily. "I’m so happy I can just say that now. You have no idea how hard it’s been to just... not say it."

I thought about the semi-panic attack I had in Hoseok’s car and laughed. He had no idea how much I understood where he was coming from.

"Say it as much as you want, love," I kissed the underside of his chin.

We had both been right. The judges thought the pie was too much to be an appetizer. 

The hiss of the shower jolted me awake, the sound slicing through the thick, restless silence of the early morning. I fumbled groggily for my phone. The screen lit up: 3:17 AM. The bed beside me was a cold, empty expanse, and a tight knot of worry coiled in my gut. I slipped out of bed, the chill of the floor biting at my feet, and crept toward the bathroom door.

“Chim?” I called softly, barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile night.

“Yeah?” His voice was close, too close to the door for him to be in the shower. 

“Can I come in?” 

The moment of silence that followed was heavy, like the air before a storm. Then came the soft click of the lock, and the door creaked open just enough for me to see him. As I’d feared, he was still fully clothed, slumped on the toilet with that distant, haunted look I’d hoped never to see again. It had been months since he’d looked this lost.

I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, the small space barely accommodating us. We were so close our knees touched, but I didn’t care. He needed me, and I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, my voice barely a breath.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on some dark chasm only he could see. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, broken only by the steady drip of the showerhead. Eventually, he reached over and turned off the water. The steam billowed around us, wrapping us in a dense fog.

"Her name was Jackie," he said finally, his voice a whisper lost in the fog. "She was a friend of Annie’s. We were in college, and Annie practically forced us to go out so she could double date with Tom."

I hummed softly, encouraging him to continue. I didn’t understand why Jackie was surfacing now, but I had a sinking feeling she was the girl he’d mentioned earlier—the one who had made him feel small and worthless. Jackie. What a godawful name.

“She was one of those people who wore a mask around her friends and was someone else entirely when we were alone. I was 18, and she was pretty, so I let it slide. We had things in common, and we laughed a lot.”

He paused, drawing a shaky breath. “Her friends thought I was weird and didn’t want her with me. They’d been tight since middle school and still acted like high school mean girls. I didn’t care much for them either, but Jackie always said she didn’t care what they thought.”

My heart twisted in my chest. I had a gut-wrenching feeling where this was going, and it made me sick. My poor baby. I placed a hand on his knee in a futile attempt to comfort him.

“We’d been seeing each other for a few months, but we hadn’t done more than a few kisses and hugs. I was gearing up for my first professional championship swim meet, and she was buried in schoolwork. Double major or something, I don’t really remember.”

He took another deep breath. “Our clothes were off, and I was so nervous. She seemed okay with it. We just got dressed and watched a movie. We both knew that things weren’t going anywhere.”

“That’s normal, Jimin,” I murmured, trying to fill the void of silence. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head. “She told her friends, who told their friends, who then told everyone in my frat about what happened. Then she was too much of a coward to face me and acted like nothing had ever happened. I was humiliated, mortified. I just didn’t want to have sex anymore. The drinking started after, but that was more a side effect of being in a fraternity with undiagnosed depression.”

I was at a loss for words, so I stood up. Jimin watched me as I lowered myself onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tight.

Even if it wasn’t some grotesque horror story, it was still a deep, festering wound. Trauma was trauma, regardless of its shape or size. This morning had uncovered more than either of us was willing to admit.

For Jimin, it was confronting his fears of rejection. For me, it was the struggle to finally move on from guilt and shame. Namjoon's face came to mind, and I had to make my brain stop itself from going there. He would want me to be happy. He would want me to live. I relaxed into him, hoping that we could both find a way to heal.

Jimin sucked in a few deep breaths before his arms enveloped my waist. He hiccuped once, then twice, and finally, he began to cry.

I buried my face in his hair, my own tears mingling with his. It was heart-wrenching to see him in such pain, but I felt deeply honored that he was finally allowing his walls to come down. For all my talk about suffering in silence, Jimin was far more adept at hiding his pain than I was.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You didn’t deserve that.”

He cried harder and nodded. “I know,” he wailed.

I didn’t want to talk anymore. Holding him in my arms, this beautiful, broken boy, I wished I could keep him locked away in this bathroom forever, safe from the cruelties of the world. I didn’t care if my legs went numb from sitting or if the grip he had on my ribs was starting to hurt. Jimin cried, and I stayed in his lap, a silent promise to be there, come what may.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[thephilosopheroftheboudoir]

PAUL REUBENS WAS AN HONORARY PUNK

My earliest memory of Paul Reubens was his role in Cheech and Chong’s Nice Dreams where he played a coke dealer. Cheech and Chong give him all their money to buy some toot but Pee Wee disappears. They track him down, only to find he is a patient at a psychiatric hospital and they have to wander through a crowd of lunatics only to find that he is mentally too far gone to tell them what he did with their money. If you watch any DVD’s of this movie that were made after 1988, you will notice this scene has been permanently deleted.

So a few later, I was getting involved with the small but growing hardcore punk scene in my city. Pee Wee’s Big Adventure was released in the theaters around then. It was an instant success and I went to see it three times. By the second and third viewing I started to recognize that more and more audience members were people I knew from the punk scene.

Many of us in the counter-culture loved Pee Wee. For one thing, many of us rode bicycles. It was our second favorite form of transportation behind skateboards since most people we knew couldn’t afford cars back then. City buses were still the primary method of movement in a dark city where wind, rain, and snow were the norm. But when the sun came out, we rode around in packs on our bikes. Any time there was a show, you could see them chained up by the dozens somewhere near the venue. They were our vehicles out of our world. We rode them in the moonlit cemeteries. They were safer than public transport when we went off to buy drugs. Sometimes we rode out to the suburbs to go pool hopping; that meant skinny-dipping, uninvited of course, in people’s back yards while they slept comfortably in their beds. That stunt ended one night when some guy fired a shotgun at us from his bedroom window.

Being the city kids that we were, we got used to our bicycles disappearing. It was always the same. No matter what kind of lock we used, somebody from the deep inner city used their ingenuity to find some way to pick the lock or cut the chain and they always left a beat up old bike in its place, the kind of rickety thing that looked like it had been stripped of all its parts, beat down and battered to the point where some kid knew if he didn’t ride it one last time out to the edge of the city to steal a better one, he would be bikeless for a long time to come.

When Pee Wee Herman’s bike got stolen, it resonated with us punks like nothing else ever could.

Pee Wee was one of us. It wasn’t just that his bicycle got pinched in Pee Wee’s big Adventure, he was also an inherently subversive character. He lived in some nether-world where he was not quite a child but not quite a man. His friends were all unapologetically freaks and weirdos, some of which were of other races and some of which even had mohawks. When his bike got stolen, he lost his soul. It was a hero’s journey through the underworld of America, the story of a man who knew when he found that one missing piece all the magic would return to his life. Punks were often people who felt that same absence, When we spiked our hair, ripped out clothes, donned combat boots or Chuck Taylors, drove pins through our noses, and sliced up our arms with razors, we were embarking on our own journey through the underbelly of the world, one that involved drugs, alcohol, slam dancing, record collecting, and sex between cars in restaurant parking lots. If you ever wonder why your car door handle is sticky, I can tell you there is a sickly humorous reason for that. Sometimes we spent nights in jail and had fist fights on street corners with conservatives who didn’t approve of our way of living free in a supposedly free society. If you think the MAGA crowd is anything new, you are wrong; these Republican maggots started crawling out of the rotten woodwork all the way back in the 1980s. But our bikes were like magic carpets that, at times, could transport us to some place better.

It gets deeper than a stolen bike though. As punks we called ourselves anarchists. However wrongheaded and naive that might have been, it’s what we thought we were and we hated the establishment. Pee Wee’s bike was stolen by Francis, a perfect symbol of capitalist greed. Francis was an immature, trust-fund baby and a bully who could use his dorky father’s money to get anything he wanted. What he wanted was Pee Wee’s bike so he payed some 1950s rocker with a greasy DA and a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the short sleeve of his undershirt to steal it. In the end, Francis didn’t really want the bike. What he really wanted was for Pee Wee NOT to have the bike. See, the bicycle is the one thing that made Pee Wee Herman happy and happiness was what Francis coul not have because, true to the nature of a capitalist pig, he always wants more than what he has. He dealt with his misery by making others miserable and so the bike got stolen and sent away. Pee Wee’s jounrey to find it began there. If there ever was a prototype of Rush Limbaugh, Francis was it. This movie came out four years into the Reagan administration so it doesn’t surprise me that it sticks a finger in the eye of Republican party economics. Seeing Francis get his come-uppance made us cream in our jeans.

Along the way to Hollywood via the Alamo, Pee Wee Herman made friends with a whole cast of characters and all of them were outsiders. He hitched a ride with an escaped convict, for instance, and together they outsmarted the police. ACAB. He shared an intimate moment with a waitress who dreamed of escaping from her marriage to a redneck and flying off to Paris the way Dorothy dreams about some where over the rainbow in the colorful land of Oz. (Try watching Pee Wee’s Big Adventure and The Wizard of Oz back to back and notice all the parallels). Pee Wee also got inducted into an outlaw motorcycle club.

Pee Wee even makes friends with a homeless man while train hopping, something us punks could relate to as well. We liked hanging out with the bums in our city. One of them used to shoplift porn magazines and sell them to us at discount prices so he could buy bottles of Thunderbird or Mad Dog. That’s the kind of $3 rotgut that will fuck you up even worse than a 40 oz. malt liquor. While no two bottles of Mad Dog ever taste the same, the flavor approximates some unholy combination of cough syrup, vomit, and rubbing alcohol. Some say that at higher quantities of consumption it can even be hallucinogenic. And then there was also an African-American guy with blue eyes named Ulysses; we used to drink Bully Hill with him in the alleyways and he was one of the most kind-hearted and humorous men we’ve ever met. We’d buy him food just to hear the stories he’d tell. Then one day I saw him well-dressed and selling newspapers on a street corner. The headlines said something about UFO’s coming to save Black people from white America. Ulysses had joined the Nation of Islam. Oh well, at least he is now sober and off the streets. I wish you the best, Ulysses.

And punks always loved animals. We loved our dogs. We loved our cats. Some of us kept rats, iguanas, and snakes as pets. So speaking of snakes, what did Pee Wee do when he saw the pet shop burning? He rescued all the animals and in the end he even rescued the snakes even though he obviously didn’t like them. Punks were the snakes of American society and Pee Wee was on our side.

Finally, what could be more punk than sticking your middle finger in the face of the Hollywood establishment? Pee Wee’s bike ends up as a prop in a Hollywood movie. He snatched it and rode away, wrecking movie sets as he went. Instead of arresting him, they decide to make a movie based on his life. But look at the movie they made. It is a pretentious, no-brain blockbuster with perfect looking actors that bear no resemblance to the real life events that inspired it. The movie uses postmodern framing by using the medium to critique the fake and shallow medium of the Hollywood film industry.

Then there is one final question. Who was Pee Wee’s family? Did he have any parents? How old was he anyways? Punks were part of the latchkey kid generation. We either grew up in a one-parent home or else both our parents were absent from our lives because it took two working adults to support a family with children. As teenagers we ran free and encountered the adult world at a very early age. Pee Wee Herman appeared to have no role models in his life and had to find his own way around. That was what hardcore punk was all about. We couldn’t fix the world’s problems so we created our own scene and did things our own way. FTW (fuck the world). If you didn’t like us you had best stay away.

Pee Wee’s Big Adventure become one of those movies you can watch over and over again without getting bored, making frequent appearances at cult classic film festivals, revival theaters, and occasional TV reruns. There were many times we watched it through the bleary haze of bong smoke and blurred whisky vision, maybe while coming down from an acid trip or two or three. It is like an old familiar friend that is always happy to see you for the sake of sharing old memories and telling half-forgotten jokes.

Pee Wee Herman’s next move as an honorary punk came in the late 1980s when his television show Pee Wee’s Playhouse went on the air. The Residents played the theme song. How cool was that for underground music fans? Although it was meant for kids, some of the jokes were a little bit naughty. Pee Wee and the genie’s head in a box sang a song about hiney-holes and a female dancer lifted one leg in the air while standing on the toes of her other foot and Pee Wee took a peak up her skirt, only to be given a reprimanding look from the dancer when she saw what he was up to.

A couple years later the big bombshell hit the news. Paul Reubens had been caught masturbating in an adult movie theater in Florida. My immediate reaction was not, “Oh my god, what a pervert.” Actually I was just shocked that they still had adult movie theaters in Florida while they had gone the way of the dodo bird everywhere else. Hadn’t people there ever heard of VCR’s? Florida must be a pretty fucked up place, I thought. I still think so to this day. The fact that Pee Wee played with himself in the porno playhouse never really phased me though I still wonder why it is a crime to whip it out while in a darkened theater, watching movies of people fucking. America sure does have some stupid laws. Don’t even get me going on the legality of drinking alcohol like how dumb it is to make the drinking age 21 thanks to that asshole Ronald Reagan or why we are obsessed with hating drunk driving while so few bars are within walking distance of people’s homes. Europeans sorted these kinds of things out centuries ago. It is like the government wants us to get caught screwing up. Rich capitalist pigs like Francis are getting their miserable way at our expense.

Soon after the arrest of Paul Reubens, I went to a punk show at a bar. The singer of the band called out, “I don’t know how many of you heard, but Pee Wee Herman got arrested for jerking off in a porn theater. How many of you hate him more know that you know this?” About half the audience cheered. Then he asked “How many of you love him more now?” Again, about half the audience cheered. Oh yeah, we loved him even more because his mugshot made him look like a Hells Angel. The biggest audible difference between the first and second cheers was that the former was mostly women and the latter was mostly men. By 1991, the mean-girl Andrea Dworkin style of anti-porn feminism had infected the punk scene like an STD. If you think polarization in America is a Trump-era phenomenon, guess again. It just seems that way because internet pundits and the media keep drawing our attention to it even though the hate has always been there.

Just a few years ago, I heard an interview with Paul Reubens on NPR. They asked the question of what message he wanted to send to the world. His answer, and I paraphrase, was “It’s OK to be different. You don’t have to be like everybody else.” It’s so simple, so true, and so sad that so few people understand what this means. And it's so "punk-is-an-attitude" up your fucking ass.

Good bye Paul Reubens and thank you for the memories. Thank you for the wisdom you shared. Thank you for being an inspiration, an idol and an icon for those of us who follow Jimi Hendrix’s advice and wave our freak flags high. You are forever an honorary member of the hardcore punk community.

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

I was a queer kid in the 90’s/early 00’s. Here’s some shit I dealt with when I got a haircut that made the kids and adults around me decide I wasn’t performing my gender correctly anymore.

A friend and I were hanging out in her front yard, minding our own business, when older girls walked by and started harassing us for being lesbians because I had a pixie haircut.

I was 9.

My friend was 7.

We had been riding our bikes up and down her driveway.

Neither of us knew what a lesbian was at the time. We still understood that they meant us psychological and physical harm.

Her mom stepped in, thank goodness and brought it up to their adult.

It made me mad that they had thrown things at us and were just getting scolded, so I went home. I was later lectured that my “silence and leaving” was the wrong move. I was expected to stay there and wait for their insincere apology.

On a separate occasion from the same year, different older girls tried to stop me from entering a changing room (and were violent about it) at a public pool. Also because of the haircut. Again, an adult intervened before it got to bad, but it happened. They continued to make me uncomfortable in the changing room once I’d gotten access. I’ve posted about this one before.

Also that year, a girl in my class, who had been my friend, turned into a bully overnight. When I confronted her about it, she told me it was because I got the haircut. She didn’t care why I got the haircut. I decided that was a dumb reason to suddenly be mean to someone you’d previously gotten along with and wrote her off as a bad person actually.

This same year, I weaponized the “misgendering” (turns out it wasn’t but I didn’t know that much less anyone else at the time) to convince my mom that she needed to let me get my ears pierced so that the misgendering would stop. I reinforced this by wearing my brother’s old clothes exclusively from my hand-me-down wardrobe. Sure enough, strangers “misgendered” me left and right and it drove her nuts.

Imagine the increase of vitriol I got from classmates and other kids who knew my name and assigned gender. It wasn’t pleasant.

She finally agreed to let me pierce my ears. I went back to wearing whatever clothes, masculine or feminine in nature. Random adults stopped misgendering me to my mother. Kids did not stop taunting and bullying me.

(None of the previous stories occurred during the “boys clothes only” era. I had been wearing clearly feminine clothing designed for 9 year olds in the other examples of homophobia in the 90’s/early 00’s.)

About a year or so later, I decide to grow my hair back out. I was still bullied relentlessly during that time, but suddenly it was because I liked to sing and didn’t have access to TV at home instead of my hair and not presenting my gender correctly. Wild.

Later in my childhood, I went back to a pixie cut without issue, but I had also beaten up several kids twice my size and gotten them expelled for it without being in trouble myself, so idk if it’s because kids realized messing with me REALLY want worth it anymore or if attitudes towards haircuts had loosened a little.

By then, I’d also realized I was at least one type of queer and was friends with all the other queer kids. I broke a few hands and teeth of bullies on their behalf as well.

The teasing didn’t stop for a lot of them, but it significantly dropped for all of us.

Again, don’t know if that’s because I stopped taking shit or if life had gotten a bit better.

Doesn’t change how homophobic kids had been to me in elementary school.

[equallyshaw]

remember me- trevor zegras imagine.

Warnings: none.

Word Count: 1.8k+

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I couldn't believe that they had remembered me. Quiet, book lover and sarcastic brunette who unfortunlty (at times) lived next to the Hughes Brother growing up in Canton. I am gonna be honest, I never really knew them. Seeing as they played hockey all day everyday, went to the public highschool while I went to private and played volleyball. Total opposities.Which meant I never met any of there friends, which I was more than thankful for. Those three by themselves during the summertime hanging out by there pool, always distracted me from my pool reading sessions. Which usually led to me going inside frustrated. Not that I didn't mind them, it's just I knew for a fucking fact, that I would never introduce myself first. It just wasn't who I am. So I spent the better part of three years watching them go in and out, or trying to kill one another during street hockey.

It wasn't until the summer going into my senior year of college at USC, that there was an oppurtunity to speak to them. I had 3 girls fly out to see me from school, to spend a week with me. Seeing as it was our final season together, we wanted to make the most of our time together. We never knew when or if we would ever play together but simply, be able to hang out with one another without any big pritiroties. We were walking outside towards my car, heading into Detroit to eat and shop. Again, I have barely spoke five words to any of these dudes over the years and I was for sure not going to change that. The three brothers walk out with maybe 5 or 6 other dudes, who honestly look like a copy and past of one another. "Abbs!" Jessica called for me, as I neared the end of my driveway. "Are we going to the one on the border?" She questioned and I nodded, unlocking the car. I could feel the guys watching us as we made our way out for the evening. In our short but tasteful dresses, and you can maybe throw in some heels and some nice handbags. We had buisness to attend to in the name of seafood. "Dude look at Paxton." Morgan said laughing as we all looked towards my childhood dog, watching out the front door with my mom behind him. I smiled, hopping in the car and turning it on. "Dude, who are those people?? And why are they so damn hot??" Frankie questioned from beside me, almost drulling. I gave her a side eye, turning up the ac. "Man, I wish I saw them the way you did. Maybe I would of said hi one time." I mused, making sure everybody was buckled before I took off. "Wait what?" Frankie screamed, alerting the group outside. "Dude, shut your door!" Jessica laughed. I rolled my eyes and drove past the group, turning out of the subdivision. "Youre telling me, that after four years almost, you havent said jack shit? Oh my god- that's chaning this week." Frankie demanded and I shook my head. "They'll probably be at there lake house in new hampshire honestly. That's all I know though." I responded and so it began, the three girls that I call my bestfriends, plotting to set me up with one of them. And honestly, themselves. "Nothing serious Abbs, we promise." Morgan smirked from the backseat. I rolled my eyes, preparing myself for what they had to say at dinner.

We came back around 11 oclock, after much needed seafood and frozen yogurt. "Let's go get some drinks and sit around the pool?" Frankie asked us and we all nodded. They all grabbed some drinks, as I cleaned up the outside. We all sat down and took in the peaceful, not too hot not too cold night. "I can't believe we've made it." I stated, looking up at the sky. "Me either. I for sure thought you would of been long gone after year 1!" Morgan joked, causing us all to laugh. I playfully slapped her leg, shaking my head. "Ill be right back, I totally forgot what I had in my back trunk." I said jumping up and jogging out towards my front yard. I can't believe, I forgot about it. I smiled, opening my trunk and pulling out our team usa ball from worlds last year. We had somehow made the team and well, that was for sure the highlight of our career. I shut the trunk as a car rounded the culdesac, and I turned to look and saw that it was the Hughes car. I made my way to my front seat to stall, and they got out, hollering like there was no tomorrow. I internally cringed and made sure I had what I needed, before shutting my door- maybe a little too hard. Four of the boys including I think Jack all look towards me, and I froze before walking back up my driveway. "OH MY GOD NO WAY!!!!!" Jessica said running out to meet me, and freaked as soon as she saw the ball. "Holy crap! Is that it??" She questioned taking it from me and began to hit it on the ground like you do before serving. I giggled, nodding as the rest of the girls came out. "2 on 2, lets go Abbs." Frankie said pulling me with her, and we all made our way out to the street for a little 2 on 2 drunk game. Well, tipsy but soon to be drunk. I turned to look over at the dudes who were very interested in the game at hand, and I sighed getting into position. "No funny buisness, this is real shit." Morgan demanded causing Frankie and I to burst out laughing, probbaly not as funny as we thought it was due to our intoxicated state. "Lest we forget, punctality and the art of competativness." I mused as Jessica hit the ball to me and I set it up for Frankie who then hit it back to me and I hit it back over, keeping my spike for later. It was five minutes later when Morgan spoke up, causing me to grow with butterlies. "Hey boys, instead of watching - you should just come join us. It'll be more fun." She said placing a hand on her hip and smiling her charming smile towards the group of 8 dudes. "OH its on!" One of the yelled, causing us to laugh. I stayed with Frankie as they broke up into our two teams. "Abby right?" One of the brunettes questioned and I nodded, looking over towards him. "Yeah, and you?" I questioned. "After spending countless nights over here- you still don't know who I am?" He said, a smirk toying at his face. I shrugged, "I know you aren't a Hughes." I said matter of factly and he laughed. His eyes crinkling in delight, flashing a smile. "No, but Im Trevor." He smiled and I nodded. "Stand here." I said pushing him into a spot and he obeyed, giving me a tiny salute. I rolled my eyes playfully, and looked towards Jack who was on my team. "Please tell me you know a thing or two?" I sarcastically asked. "Obviously! Don't think we didn't see you outside for hours doing the same thing over. and over. and over. again." He said dramatically, and I playfully pushed him. "Ok.Ok. Just stand here." I said planting him in position. I later came to find out that Alex Turcotte and Cole Coulfield on my team where Morgan and Jessica had Quinn, Luke, somebody named Brendan Brisson and Thomas Bordealou. Brendan wasn't half bad for a recreational beach player. Which Morgan made sure to pound into him, just because. We played for around an hour, basking in the almost child like aura that filled the air. We were 4-4, so whoever won this game, won the whole thing. "Jack!" I screamed, alerting the boy to hit it. I set it up after he hit it to me, then I placed it towards Frankie who did a semi-jump spike, which in turn couldn't be picked up. Meaning, we had just won the game! "YES!" Frankie and I screamed at one another, running into eachothers arms playfully. We parted as we went to go fist pump with the boys, which wasn't enough for Trevor. No, he picked me up from my backside and spun me around. "Let's goooooooo!" Jack screamed, rubbing it in the other team's faces. "COME ON BEACH!" Morgan screamed at Brendan, causing the other guys on the team to laugh. She always had a thing against beach players, and she made it known always. Trevor set me down, and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Celebratory drinks at Sinclaires house!!!" Jack announced, and I looked at him with playful surprise. "How dare you you!?" I playfully questioned, before he looked at Trevor. The groups settled down, and we made our way towards my backyards. Well, I thought I was. No. Trevor picked me up, and ran with me towards the backyard. Brendan had the same idea with Morgan, and so everybody took off running towards the pool. "NO NO TREVOR!" I Screamed as he jumped with both of us going in. We hit the water, and quickly swam up to the surface as everybody jumped in. Trevor popped up and I swam towards him to dunk him in. His hands found my waist as I did so, sending a shock of nerves through my system. "RUDE!" I said splashing him playfully, causing him to laugh. A little while later, we all sat around the firepit, the boys had started in my backyard. We all shared stories about the sport we loved to play, funny stories from the USNDP while I lived oblivious next store. Trevor and I sat close together, so close I could feel the body heat he was radiating. Unbeknowst to me, he wanted to be even closer. Not gonna lie he was attractice, but seemed to much of a pretty boy for me. Like, there was some ulterior motive. I smiled softly, looking down at my hands just listening to the group talk back and fourth. "You good?" I heard in my ear, and I nodded, slowly turning towards Trevor. He smiled down at me, almost begging me to shift closer to him. His arm found it's way around my shoulder as I did so. "Please tell me this is where you ask me for my number." I said with a sly grin. The ever existing smile grew wider, as I saw his cheeks flush. He nodded, "Been wanting yours since the 11th grade." He mused causing me to giggle. "Well, im glad you rememeberd me- Mr.Zegras." I smirked, his not understanding how I knew his name.

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just a short, cute imagine! please like and reblog-- if you enjoyed :)

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (6)

(c!Technoblade x fem!Reader)

(some of y’all seemed to like chapter 5! so here’s chapter 6 like promised! and remember, you get chapter 7 if this one is shown some love, so remember to comment and reblog! thanks y’all! <3)

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True to their word Tommy and Tubbo came back to see you the very next day, having gotten up early (well early for them) to get ready and head out. Wilbur had wanted to go with them but he’d gotten caught up in presidential matters and couldn’t, much to his dismay. Too bad for him though that neither boy cared to wait on him since according to Tommy,

“It’ll take you hours to handle that stuff, I’m not waitin’ that long!”

So the pair bailed and Wilbur was left to sigh as he continued his work. And the following day he was blindsided by plans for a new public building everyone was wanting to get built in L’manburg. And they couldn’t plan it without Wilbur’s approval and supervision so while he handled that for the next few weeks the two boys would sneak off to spend time in your village.

They were both pretty good workers, at least when they weren’t goofing off and getting into shenanigans. You can’t count how many times you’d caught Tommy trying to build structures out of cobblestone in the village. He’d argued that he was improving the village but you threatened to eat his portion of the day’s lunch if he didn’t get rid of whatever tower or thing he’d started construction on. He’d always kick up a fuss but would take them down before the day was done. A few times Tubbo would run screaming for you, telling on Tommy for whatever new cobble thing he was trying to build in secret. Tommy either rushing to tear the structure down or chasing after his friend and screaming at him for being a ‘little snitch’.

You knew the two were just playing and they never failed to finish the tasks you gave them so you were mostly just amused by the pair. Though that didn’t stop you from scolding them when they inevitably broke something of yours or the villagers’. But thankfully the times when scoldings or lectures were needed were pretty rare. You’re not sure if this is because the two boys were actually taking your words to heart or not though. But regardless, the time spent together was nice.

Which meant when the two boys mentioned them needing to go to the Nether and asked if you wanted to tag along you said sure. You remembered the classic Nether and even saw parts of the Nether update, but you’d never gotten a chance to explore it in depth. You’d planned to before.. well before you’d ended up here. But that never happened. And once you ended up here you could have gone to the Nether but to be honest it just wasn’t on your list of priorities. You’d been too focused on improving the village and then building your home and stuff. But you figured there was no harm to checking it out now.

-0-

“We’ll either have to go back to L’manburg where there’s already nether portals or we’ll have to find a lava pool around here to make a new one,” Tommy said to you and Tubbo, though more specifically to you. 

You raised an eyebrow and asked why, and both boys started replying at the same time, Tubbo trying to explain that they didn’t have any obsidian on them so it was the only options and Tommy just saying ‘because that’s the options unless you’ve got obsidian’ in his usual blunt manner. 

Without thinking about it you opened your inventory and took out a stack of obsidian and a flint and steel and held them up to the pair. Their eyebrows raised and Tommy started asking you why the hell you had so much obsidian on you! But you just half shrugged and glanced away, saying you kept an approximate assortment of items on you at all times. The boys gave each other a ‘what the hell’ look before Tubbo shrugged and said who cares then asked where they should build the nether portal.

Tommy suggested building it in the village, but you nixed that idea right away. Tommy huffed and asked WHY NOT and you said you weren’t going to open an actual portal to HELL in the middle of your village. Any number of hostile creatures could come waltzing through and kill your villagers or even burn the place down. Tommy winced and softly mumbled that yeah that was a possibility. You rolled your eyes and Tubbo suggested building it outside the bamboo walls surrounding your village. You agreed and then you three set off to find a good spot. 

Thankfully finding a spot a safe distance from the village, on a hill too, was pretty easy. And you made the portal as one usually does. At one point you misplaced a block of obsidian and the two boys laughed and Tubbo said that now the portal was going to be all wonky looking. And Tommy was in the middle of saying you sucked at building when you thoughtlessly deleted the block of obsidian before lighting the portal with the flint and steel. All was silent. 

. . . .

“WOT!? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?” Tommy practically screeched. 

You blinked and looked at the two gobsmacked teens before realizing you’d just pulled some not exactly possible shit. They were giving you two twin Looks that basically screamed for you to explain yourself. But you just stayed silent for a minute before just saying not to worry about it. Internally you winced at that unintentionally dodgy answer but the two boys just kept pestering you, demanding to know how you’d done that. You sighed, knowing they’d keep on pestering you. So you decided to tease them a bit, just for laughs.

“You two can’t expect me to give away all my mystical secrets, can you~?” You said with a sly grin, waggling your fingers when you said ‘mystical’, just to play up the drama.

The two clearly did because Tommy went on a rant about how that was ‘such bullshit!’ and you can’t just ‘pull some weirdo shit like that and expect no questions!’ and more. You laughed and held your hands up in mock surrender before sighing a dramatic sigh and said fine, you’d reveal one of your secrets. But they had to swear not to tell anyone. Like you expected the two agreed without a thought. Then you took a deep breath and laced your fingers together in front of you, telling them to copy you. They did without question, both looking eager to learn. You told them to close their eyes and breathe steadily and listen to your voice. They did and you couldn’t hold back the smile as you continued,

“Alright, keep your eyes closed. Focus on my voice. The key to my master block breaking skills is quite simple really,” you said as you silently inched back, keeping an eye on them both as they stood there, eyes closed and hands clasped in front of them. Your smile grew into a grin as you felt the strange warmth of the nether portal envelop you, purple tinting your vision as you continued,

“The key is to just never reveal your secrets!”

By the time they registered exactly what you said you were almost totally through the portal, and you started laughing your ass off when you heard Tommy scream,

“READER! YOU BASTARD! COME BACK HERE-”

But it got cut off as you were sent through the portal, the last thing you saw was the two boys lunging for you before your view darkened and the almost suffocating heat of the Nether hit you in the face. You stepped forward and yelped as you almost walked right off a cliff into a lava lake. You hurried to put up a wall of obsidian for the boys coming in after you. You didn’t want them to fall, it would have ended poorly for them if they did. 

But you couldn’t focus on that shit right now! You had to hide! There wasn’t much around you to hide behind. You were in a large mostly flat area with some flames here and there and a lava lake behind you and a large wall of netherrack in front of you some ways away. You glanced back when you heard the portal activating again, signaling the two coming through. That’s when you glanced up. With a snicker you jumped up onto the top of the portal and laid down on your side, perfectly able to see down. You stayed perfectly still as the portal made its usual strange sound before it spat out the two boys you’d come to care for in a maternal fashion. You’d almost laughed when they smacked right into the wall you put up to keep them from tumbling to their doom. Tommy cursed before following Tubbo to the other side of the portal.

Tommy was definitely fired up, Tubbo laughing as they boys scoured the area for you. They didn’t see a glimpse of you, which felt crazy because you’re in WHITE. In the Nether! You should stick out like a sore thumb! And there was nowhere within running distance to hide so that made Tubbo sputter and ask how fast you were exactly! You bit your tongue to keep from laughing and watched them start walking away from the portal, calling your name and demanding you ‘show yourself this instant!’ as they did. You just watched them go with a grin, deciding to let them wander around a bit before you popped back up.

You laid there as they got further away, heading for what looked to be a crimson forest about 50 or so blocks to the left of the portal. As you laid there you sighed. Breathing in the Nether wasn’t fun. It honestly just made you want to grimace, this place honestly felt like a shitty dry summer day in a desert. Overwhelming and too humid to do anyone any good. You just wished it wasn’t so warm to breathe in. If the air was cooler, at least by a handful of degrees, then you’d probably be able to enjoy this place. But you supposed it could be worse. It could be a suffocating WET heat, like trying to breathe through a bowl of hot soup. 

At that point you glanced around and noticed you couldn’t see either Tommy or Tubbo anymore. So you figured it was time to go hunt them down so they could try to interrogate you. You walked along, passing a couple zombified piglins as you did. They each had thousand yard stares like regular zombies so you didn’t pay them much mind. Though you noticed when you passed by the regular non zombie piglins they all looked at you, snorting enviously at your golden jewelry. You couldn’t keep the smile from your face. You had to admit that it was nice to have someone appreciate your accessories. The number had increased since you’d started wearing the bangles. The armorer who first made them saw you liked them and so started making more jewelry.

Now you had the bangles, a couple anklets, more than a couple necklaces (both chokers and longer ones), plenty of rings, and even some pretty dangly earrings coupled with some studs. Your ears shockingly hadn’t been pierced when you’d gone to put them in after getting the gift. Which was weird since they’d been pierced before? But it wasn’t a big deal, you’d pierced your own ears before so you just did it again. And when you’d shown the boys they’d said you looked nice but they just didn’t appreciate jewelry like you did. Though you could see the piglins certainly did, but that was probably just because they were gold. But it was nice to have someone like them regardless.

You were appreciating the gold rings on one piglin’s tusks (and idly wondering if you’d be able to do the same for your antlers?) when suddenly you heard Tommy start shrieking. And not his usual angry shriek but instead one that was full of panic and fear. You jolted when you heard him yelling Tubbo’s name frantically, sprinting towards their cries without even saying a parting goodbye to the nice piglin you’d been standing with. Which was good because without wasting time with pleasantries you were able to find Tubbo and Tommy fairly quickly. Only downside was when you found them it was with them backed against a wall in the crimson forest with nowhere to run with a very angry hoglin ramming its huge tusks against Tubbo’s rapidly breaking shield, Tommy right behind him, both screeching and cursing at each other.

You didn’t even think as you charged at the hoglin. When you got up behind it you acted on pure instinct, desperate to get it away from the two screaming kids. So you grabbed its hind leg and yanked it back, momentarily shocked at how easy it was to do so. But you couldn’t worry about that right now. You pulled the hoglin back then swung it around before tossing it a few yards back. It landed with a heavy THUD, clearly taking damage, squealing in anger as it got back up and shook itself off. Though it snorted angrily it didn’t try to attack you but instead tried to go around you to reach the two boys. But you didn’t give it the chance before you were literally grabbing it by the tusks and spinning your body around before slamming the hoglin into one of the nearby tree sized crimson fungus. It smashed through the trunk, destroying two blocks in the process. The hoglin lay crumpled on the ground, weakly trying to stand only to die shortly after when you stomped on its neck.

It disappeared with a small ‘poof’, leaving behind a hide and some raw pork. You grabbed them up before walking over to the stunned teenage boys by the wall. You started checking them over to see if they’d taken any damage and then once you were sure they were okay you started asking them why on earth they’d come to the nether without shields and weapons! Tubbo said his sword had had lower durability than he’d thought and it broke when he was fighting off the hoglin! And Tommy shamefully admitted to having his sword but… dropping his shield when they were climbing across the crimson fungus. Then he’d apparently fallen and gotten surprised by the hoglin, who had done a good chunk of damage to him before Tubbo jumped down (taking damage in the process) to try and help him. All in all the two looked super embarrassed. You just shook your head and said they were idiots, but you were glad they were alive. 

While you grabbed two shields and a sword from your inventory Tommy went nuts, saying that was the coolest shit he’d ever seen anyone do ever! You gave him an amused look and asked what he meant. The killing the hoglin thing? He’d never seen someone kill a pig? He gawped at you and yelled out that NO he’d seen people kill hoglins, but he’d never seen anyone basically fight one with their bare hands! Tubbo cut in and added ‘and live!’ to the blond’s statement, which Tommy nodded along with. You just rolled your eyes and handed them the shields and Tubbo the sword before calling them silly for getting so worked up over you killing a hoglin. Then before they could rant more you pulled them both into a gentle side hug and sighed,

“I’m glad you’re both okay though, you scared me back there. I don’t want either of you getting hurt. So please be more careful, okay? For me?”

The two boys softened at that and each timidly wrapped an arm around you, feeling bad they’d worried you but�� oddly happy that you cared enough to even BE worried. Which was a weird train of thought for them. Neither had any parents save for Philza, and he was mostly just a loose dad figure. He was a good guy and helped care for them but he also believed in letting them figure stuff out on their own and didn’t really offer help unless they asked for it. But you felt different. They’d only known you for a few weeks but it felt like longer. They felt safe with you in your village and yeah you had your rules but they strangely didn’t mind following them. It made you happy and when you were happy they were happy too.

Though the touching moment was brought to a sudden halt when Tommy suddenly shrieked. You and the boys looked down to see a baby hogling ramming its tusks against the blond boy’s ankles. You laughed and reached down before smacking it on the haunch, causing it to squeal in shock and run away. Tommy grumbled and cursed the small thing, making you and Tubbo snicker. But then you asked them what they needed from the Nether. Turns out they needed blaze rods and were going to loot a nether fortress. You said that sounded dangerous and asked them if they had any food to restore their health or even fire resistance potions. And well they had food so, not a total facepalm moment. But then they asked you where your weapon was, and your shield! Did YOU have food or fire resistance potions? You blinked and said you’re sure you had some of that stuff yeah.

They pestered you until you pulled out your enchanted axe and shield. You didn’t really need the shield you didn’t think but it seemed to put the two boys at ease so you carried it as you followed them through the nether. Idly you made sure to leave a trail of cobblestone behind you all, so you’d know where you’d come from and could find your way back easier. And it turns out that was a smart move because you all walked a long way, through at least 4 different biomes, before you stumbled across a nether fortress. Said structure loomed over you three, looking utterly massive and low key intimidating. You squinted and told the two boys you could see a couple zombie piglins and wither skeletons up on the landings walking around. Tommy groaned and said the wither skeletons were a pain in the ass but knocking them off the edge was pretty easy.

The rest of the evening was spent following the two around the nether fortress, helping them collect potion ingredients and fend off mobs. And to your utter shock you three had discovered that you just… didn’t take fire damage! Like, at all. You’d been busy helping them knock back a couple wither skeletons when unbeknownst to you three a blaze had approached and shot fireballs at you, hitting you square in the back. You honestly hadn’t even noticed, being too busy with helping Tommy fend off a skeleton. It was only after you knocked them all off and Tubbo yelped about you burning did you pause and ask what he was going on about. You understood when he screamed that you were on fire. And yeah, when you looked down you actually were. But it… didn’t hurt? It wasn’t even burning you or your clothes. You just blinked stupidly before simply patting it out. As you three stood there silently it seemed Tommy became fed up as he shouted,

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU!?”

Which just made you start laughing your ass off, only able to offer him a shrug because honestly you didn’t even know yourself at this point. Tubbo started giggling as well which eventually got Tommy to crack a smile before he broke out into laughter too. You all finished laughing and Tubbo suggested that maybe it was a fluke? Tommy nodded and said maybe you just got lucky or were in shock or something? Though that was disproved when you checked yourself and your skin and clothes were totally fine, no burns at all. Tubbo grinned and suggested testing it. You raised an eyebrow and he pulled out a flint and steel before lighting a patch of the ground on fire. Tommy’s eyes were wide but he was grinning and looking at you, probably wondering if you were actually going to do it. You were anxious, because all your previous life experience told you ‘fire bad’ but… you were curious too.

So you stuck one foot into the fire. And… nothing. It felt warm for sure. Sort of like if you stuck your hand in front of a space heater. Very warm but it didn’t hurt. So you just stepped into the fire and it crawled up your skin until it was licking at your face. But you were totally fine. Tommy and Tubbo laughed incredulously, with the blond saying this whole thing was fucking insane. He asked if you were sure you hadn’t drank any fire resistance potions? You shook your head no and Tubbo pointed out that surely they would have seen the potion particles if that were the case. Tommy hummed but agreed before saying that despite this all being neat and shit that they still had the rest of the fortress to scavenge. Tubbo followed him with you leading the rear and on your way inside the brunet laughingly said he was going to use you as a blaze shield. You just gave a fake offended gasp and just said, “Rude.” which made both boys snicker.

-0-

True to their word they’d used you like a human shield. But since you took no damage you just rolled with it, actually finding all of this pretty amusing by now. And after you’d all gathered more than enough blaze rods you’d separated from them for a bit. Mostly just sticking around the sand path that led back to the portal while they searched the rest of the fortress for nether wart and mined for glowstone dust. And while they did that you sat on a block of sand and pulled out some food to eat, mostly out of boredom than from any real desire to satiate any hunger. But while you were munching on a golden carrot a little piglin child came up to you to admire your golden jewelry. You smiled down at them, inwardly cooing over how adorable they were with their little baby tusks. And you almost died when they let out a happy squeal when you offered them a chunk of your golden carrot. You’re not sure how long you sat there with the baby piglin but after eating a couple carrots together you placed down another block of sand before using your finger to draw pictures in the sand, much to the child’s delight. They copied you and started drawing pictures too. Most of which you couldn’t recognize but they were still cute.

“OI! Reader! C’mon, we’re done!!” yelled the blond boy from up the path a ways. 

The baby piglin snorted in distrust and hid a bit behind the sand block, showing they didn’t really trust the two players. You chuckled and said you were coming to the two boys before standing up and dusting yourself off. Then you glanced down at the tiny little piglin and smiled before pulling a gold ingot from your inventory. The baby piglin snorted enviously then squealed loudly when you handed them the ingot. They couldn’t take their wide eyes off of it, making you giggle at how precious they were. But sadly you had to go so you gently patted their head and said goodbye. They managed to tear their eyes away from the gold to snort sadly as you left. Part of you felt bad but the bigger part knew they couldn’t follow you to the Overworld..

After leaving the Nether you broke the portal, not wanting to risk any nether creatures accidentally stumbling through and getting hurt. And with a glance around you saw it was getting late. To the point where Tubbo and Tommy would have to rush to get back to their houses before night fell. So you saw them off, giving them some food for the trip and even giving them another hug goodbye. One you noticed they relaxed into faster than before. Then they were off, calling out goodbyes and saying they’d be back either tomorrow or the next day. You waved bye and said you looked forward to it, calling out your usual ‘be careful!’ before you couldn’t see them anymore. You frowned a little. Despite them having armor and weapons you still worried about them travelling alone at night after they visited you. You think next time you’ll walk them home. Just to make sure they were safe.

-----------

@salinesoot @lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @hufflepuff-demigod @corpiet @beepa99 @anxiousnarwhale​

[riversofmars]

Interrupting my usual broadcast of DW fic to bring you another British gay mess: Please enjoy my first attempt at Caroline/Gillian! And as if I haven't got enough WIPs on, this is gonna be four parts, as it turns out! I don't know why I'm like this :D Anyway here we are due to popular demand!

Gillian takes Caroline up on her offer of moving in together and pooling their resources. A month has gone by and Caroline is surprised at how easy and comfortable life on the farm has become. The arrangement works for both of them: Gillian's financial struggles are a thing of the past and while it isn’t exactly the traditional family set-up Caroline would have wanted, Gillian turned out to be exactly what she needed in a partner to help raise her daughter. Adding romance to the otherwise perfect set-up is a pipe-dream on the headteacher's part, but the more time she spends with the sheep farmer, the more drawn she is to her. Rating: M (language & sexual themes)

Home Is Not A Place - Part 1: The Dinner

“For goodness sake,“ Caroline groaned, as she stepped out of her SUV and right into a puddle. Resigned to her changed situation, she decided from now on she would have to switch shoes after work, from her favourite heels, to a lesser loved pair. There was no two ways about it. But at least then there would be absolutely no danger of ruining a two-hundred pound pair of Jimmy Choos, upon her arrival at Greenwood farm. Of course she wouldn’t mention this to Gillian, God no, otherwise her Christmas present to her might end up a new pair of wellingtons.

In the open court yard of the farm, the wind was biting cold and encouraged the headteacher to hurry up the stairs to the relative safety and comfort of the house. Caroline cursed under her breath as the wind wreaked havoc with her hair, and the cold crept up her legs, underneath her woefully-inappropriate-for-farm-life pencil skirt. The British weather was really giving its all this year to live up to its reputation. Well in the grip of Winter already, it only took Caroline to stay late at work by an hour - like today - and night had already fallen. Preparations for this year’s Nativity were gathering steam and - being the hands-on headmistress she was - there was no way Caroline would allow the theatre department to shoulder the burden all on their own. Working late would usually have required a lot of planning for a single parent such as herself, but things had gotten a lot easier, recently.

“Hiya Caz,“ Gillian called from the lounge, when Caroline closed the front door of the farm house behind her and smiled at the chipper greeting.

“Hiya!“ She called back and pushed her soaked shoes into a corner. With any luck, Gillian wouldn’t spot them and she could deal with them later. The sheep farmer would only get suspicious if she lingered in the hallway for too long. “Evening,“ Caroline smiled as she stepped into the living room. Flora and Calamity were sitting on the sofa in front of the tv, dressed in pyjamas. She walked over to them, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s head and then, for good measure, repeated the gesture on Calamity. The girls were the closest of friends and since Caroline and Flora had moved in at the farm, they had become closer still - almost like real siblings - and Caroline had found herself treating them as such with increasing frequency.

“Wet out, is it?“ Gillian smirked, observing Caroline’s dishevelled head of hair, drawing her attention. The sheep farmer was leaning against the kitchen counter, mug in hand, assessing her over the rim of it.

“What’s this?“ Caroline raised her eyebrows, as she spotted two - and only two! - places set at the kitchen table, complete with wine glasses.

“Girls have eaten. Just having a bit of telly before bed,“ Gillian explained, nodding towards the pre-schoolers that were engrossed in their cartoons. “Lasagne is in oven, thought you might be hungry, with your long day n’all.“

“You made lasagne?“ Caroline asked, though it sounded more bewildered than she had intended. It wasn’t uncommon that Gillian would cook for all of them. She was the one at home, her work was here, it made sense. Caroline was a woman of science, of hard facts, so she liked things to make sense. But for some reason, coming home to Gillian Greenwood - who had cooked for her and looked after her daughter - was still something of curiosity, despite empirical evidence to the contrary. Caroline was still not quite used to it, no matter how much sense it made.

Caroline had managed to convince Gillian of the sense behind them pooling their resources not long after she had floated the idea for the first time. Her and Flora moved in at the farm a month ago, and much to everyone’s surprise - and her mother’s dismay - it worked surprisingly well. This was not the first time she had come home to a cooked meal, it was becoming a regular occurrence, so Caroline was at a loss as to why this time, it felt different. Perhaps it was the absence of Raff and Ellie who - as Caroline now remembered - had been invited to Ellie’s mother’s to parade around the little one. Perhaps it was because there were only two places set at the table. Or perhaps it was the warmth of Gillian’s chuckled as she replied:

“Well, had to make something.“

“You really didn’t have to, I don’t… expect to come home to a home cooked meal every day,“ Caroline felt obliged to state, just for the record, though she knew that Gillian would do whatever the bloody hell she wanted anyway. It wasn’t like Caroline - or anyone else for that matter - had any bearing on what this infuriatingly independent and bull-headed woman did or didn’t do.

“Nice though, innit,“ the sheep farmer shot back with surprising enthusiasm. “Guess that was part of the deal. Least I can do, mind the kids and cook you some tea.“ She gave a shrug like it was nothing; when to Caroline, it was a huge deal. This wasn’t something she would have admitted to, of course; just as she wouldn’t have admitted that there was something very appealing about coming home to Gillian.

“I’m not expecting you to pretend to be my stay-at-home housewife or something, Gillian,“ Caroline tried to brush it off with a joke.

“You better not. Cause that’s not me,“ Gillian retorted with good-natured humour, and it struck Caroline that she was a far cry from the tense, short-fused woman she’d met seven years ago. It was moments such as these, that the headteacher realised how much she had changed. Healing would be too strong a word for it; Caroline couldn’t imagine how anyone could possibly heal from what Gillian had been through, but she seemed to be doing, better. She seemed more comfortable in her own skin, and more comfortable with her life. Secretly, Caroline hoped she had contributed to her wellbeing in some small way; even if it was just by giving her the security that she wouldn’t have to give up the farm.

“Don’t I know it,“ Caroline chuckled. “Wine, too, is it?“ She picked up the bottle on the table and checked the label. It was one of her favourites and for a moment, she wasn’t sure whether Gillian had remembered, or if they’d still had that bottle lying round somewhere. “Is there a special occasion? One month since we moved in?“ It wasn’t like she had been counting…well, she had. But only to be able to lord it over her mother about how long they had managed to stay under the same roof, without tearing each other’s heads off…or each other’s clothes…she added as an after thought. But only for her own amusement, not for public consumption.

“I guess I just…wanted to say thank you…for agreeing to this,“ Gillian huffed, suddenly appearing self-conscious, as if she wondered whether she had made a mistake. Caroline felt guilty immediately. For someone with self-esteem as fragile as Gillian, doubts came quickly, and cut deep.

“It was my idea! It’s to both of our advantage. I couldn’t have carried on the way it was, particularly now that our parents aren’t…able…to help as much as before…“ Caroline was quick to assure her. It had made a lot of sense, and she was glad she had managed to persuade Gillian of the proposal’s merit. Even once their parents had volunteered the money to pay for the work on the roof, it didn’t change the fact that Gillian was barely breaking even financially. Certainly not with the sheep that had escaped a few months ago, and once Raff and Ellie moved out - which was only a matter of time - they wouldn’t be contributing anymore, either. Gillian needed someone with her, and Caroline was more than happy to be that person, for numerous reasons. Some of them she cared to discuss, like the practicalities of it, some she would keep to herself, thank you very much.

“Just wanted to say, I do appreciate it, Caz,“ Gillian interrupted and held her hands up, as if she just had to get that out there - and would shut up now that it was said. “And I hope you’re not gonna regret it.“

“Gillian, we’ve known each other seven years now,“ Caroline couldn’t help but point out, as she set the bottle of wine back down on the table. “Yes, we’ve had our ups and downs, but all things considered, I think we’re about as steady as our parents, don’t you think?“ She gave her a soft smile. They really had come an incredibly far way since they first laid eyes on each other. To this day, Caroline was still embarrassed about her behaviour on the day they’s met, and was beyond relieved that with time, Gillian had come to see the funny side of the whole thing.

“Suppose so. Just without the sex,“ Gillian snickered and took a sip of her tea, hiding her grin in her mug as she seemed to relax again.

“I don’t want to think about our parents having sex, thank you very much!“ Caroline exclaimed, mortified, and quickly turned to check the girls hadn’t accidentally overheard. To her relief, she found them still very much engrossed in their tv show.

“God no. I don’t know if they still can, I mean, at their age…“ Gillian huffed, matter-of-factly. “And with his heart too, better mind his blood pressure hadn’t he… Mind you, probably wouldn’t be worst way t’go. Right in throes of…“

“Yes, right. That’s it, change of subject please!“ Caroline shook her head vehemently and Gillian laughed.

“Go and get changed, didn’t mean to ambush you, it’ll keep.“ She gestured to the oven. “I’ll get little ones in bed.“

“If you’re sure.“ Caroline glanced at the clock. She hadn’t realised how late it was. “How about bath time?“

“All this fun stuff you miss out on when you work late. It’s done and dusted. Go on. You don’t wanna be throwing lasagne down that fancy blouse o’ yours,“ Gillian observed, nodding towards her cream blouse.

“Right.“ Caroline gave a soft smile and watched the sheep farmer gulp down the rest of her tea, before sitting it down in the sink.

“You want me to make you a cuppa first?“ Gillian asked, seemingly confused as to why Caroline hadn’t taken her up on the offer yet, instead lingering in the kitchen.

“No, no, it’s fine, I’ll have wine if that’s going,“ Caroline answered quickly, snapping out of her moment of marvelling at how bloody perfect life was right about now to retrieve the corkscrew.

“Well, you know where everything is by now, don’t you. It’s your home too,“ Gillian observed, with an ease that astounded Caroline, that Gillian didn’t seem to think anything of. She just headed to the sofa where she put an arm around each of the girls from behind. “Right you two monsters, show’s over, off to bed wi’ you,“ she announced, leaving Caroline to forget all about the wine. She just watched the display of perfect family life in awe.

——

“Is it bad that I’m sort of looking forward to Raff and Ellie moving out?“ Caroline mused, watching Gillian’s reaction over the rim of her wine glass. “With the baby and everything, the walls aren’t exactly thick.“

“You knew that before moving in,“ Gillian pointed out. She wasn’t unkind about it, she was amused if nothing else.

“Yes, and I’m not complaining. I just didn’t think I’d be doing this still, at gone fifty, I mean…I’m just glad Flora is through the worst of it now.“ Even now, there were still times where Caroline wondered whether she was too old for all this. She had two grown up sons, starting again with Flora and doing it all on her own had been tough. Thankfully, finally, she wasn’t alone anymore. It wasn’t exactly the traditional family set-up she would have longed for, but she knew Gillian would be everything Flora needed in a second parent. She could also be everything Caroline needed in a partner, but that was just wishful thinking on the headteacher’s part. She would content herself with the way things were, as it was shaping up to be everything she wanted, just sadly minus the romance.

“Nowt saying William or Lawrence couldn’t have started early,“ Gillian retorted and Caroline laughed:

“William? Please!“ They were on their third glass of red and Caroline was feeling warm and relaxed. Her reactions had lost the restraint and reservedness she usually maintained with people, even the ones closest to her. “And Lawrence needs to seriously work out whatever he is doing with his life. And with Angus!“ She had often wondered about his relationship with his best friend. At this point, things could go either way.

“Fair. Not much of a chance of getting knocked up there,“ Gillian chuckled.

“Raff’s done alright though, hasn’t he. Becoming a dad so young and still seeing through his education and getting a good job at the end of it, it’s quite the accomplishment,“ Caroline smiled and delighted in the way Gillian’s face brightened with pride.

“He’s a good boy, our Raff,“ she commented, and Caroline was determined to push the matter over the finish line:

“That’s a credit to you. He couldn’t have done it without your support,“ she added kindly, as she put her cutlery down. Dinner had been a delight, but then by this point, Gillian could have probably fed her anything and she would have thanked her with a dreamy eyed smile. Caroline felt the warmth radiating from her cheeks; a combination of wine, the fire going in the adjoining room, and her own conflicted feelings towards her step sister. For the sake of her own sanity, she refused to refer to her as that whenever possible, particularly in her own head.

“More like in spite of me,“ Gillian huffed, her mood swinging like a pendulum. She had been much more steady in recent years, but that wasn’t to say she was free of the crippling self-doubt that always chose the most inopportune moments to rear its ugly head. “Never would’ve happened wi’ someone else. Not like your boys went and knocked up their girlfriend, is it.“

“Don’t be ridiculous,“ Caroline cut in quickly, but Gillian just downed the rest of her wine and carried on:

“You know it’s true, ‘as bad as his mother’ is what they were saying, and if they weren’t, they were thinking it.“ She gave a bitter laugh that stood in stark contrast to the carefree atmosphere they had enjoyed.

“You have many flaws, Gillian, it’s part of your charm, but being a bad mother? That’s certainly not one of them.“ Caroline was quick and decisive, in intervening. There had been times where she had been quite happy to shoot a snide comment her way herself, but not anymore.

“Hm.“ Gillian’s response was minimal, which indicated to Caroline that she hadn’t listened or taken in what she’d said.

“It’s not!“ She insisted firmly.

“Alright!“ Gillian exclaimed, exasperated.

“Do you think I’d have come here, to live with you, having you help look after my daughter, if I didn’t think you were a good mother and a good person?“ Caroline leaned forward onto her elbows, regarding the farmer with a stern look that she had perfected in many years of teaching.

“’suppose not.“ Gillian folded, just as one of Caroline’s six-formers would have done.

“Well then.“ The headteacher straightened herself up again and proceeded to divide the rest of the bottle in between their two glasses.

“Their faces. When you told them.“ Gillian suddenly burst out laughing and Caroline grinned, recalling the conversation in vivid detail. The pendulum that was Gillian’s emotional well-being, had swung back around.

“Of all the stupid, stupid videos Lawrence has done… that would have been the moment to capture,“ she shook her head to herself, remembering how comical and surreal the whole thing had been.

“It was your Mum more than me Dad, that face she pulled!“ Gillian couldn’t stop laughing; it was infectious and prompted Caroline to launch into a scarily accurate imitation of her mother:

“Caroline, you can’t really be considering moving to a farm, and HER farm of all places. Is that any way for Flora to grow up? What if she…catches something or…“ Caroline could hardly breathe for laughing. “Honestly Mum, what is she gonna catch? Fresh air?“

“Touch of the common farmer, more like,“ Gillian grimaced, but she didn’t seem to care, not really.

“Like she’s never stayed here herself.“ Caroline rolled her eyes at the hypocrisy.

“I think she was more concerned with me, than the farm,“ Gillian pointed out, taking a deep breath to calm herself down - but her face continued cracking up and gave her away.

“Well obviously.“ Caroline just waved it off. They were both used to her mother’s strong opinions, and readily chose to ignore them.

“What will you be doing with Gillian around all the time?“ Gillian tried herself at Celia’s accent which caused Caroline to launch into another laughing fit.

“I don’t know, Mum, maybe we will have a wild sapphic love affair,“ she reprised her witty response with tears of laughter in her eyes.

“You nearly gave her a heart attack an’all,“ Gillian snickered.

“Well, it’s none of her business.“ Caroline took a deep breath, regaining some small measure of self control. “And really, she only has herself to blame. If she hadn’t been on at your Dad about lending you that money, and then telling me they wouldn’t be picking up Flora anymore, none of this would have happened.“

“So really, we should be thanking her, shouldn’t we.“ Gillian grinned after brief contemplation. “To your mother.“ She raised her glass and Caroline toasted her:

“I’ll drink to that.“

The evening wore on, and just as they contemplated opening a third bottle, Raff and Ellie returned with the baby, who was sleeping soundly in his car seat. Thank God for small favours, Caroline thought. They had cleared up from dinner and were lounging on the sofa with the telly on.

“Mum. Caz. Alright?“ Raff greeted them.

“Had a good evening?“ Gillian asked, looking around.

“Yeah great thanks,“ Ellie smiled in response and made her way up the stairs with the little one.

“You watching University Challenge, Mum?“ Raff asked, bemused, as he noticed the program they were watching.

“Through no fault of my own!“ Gillian was quick to point out. She shot Caroline a look who was sitting to the other end of the sofa.

Caroline considered it a safe distance, but not as safe as the other sofa would have been. It was one small thing she allowed herself. It was innocent enough, and Gillian didn’t seem to think twice when their legs intertwined on the two-seater.

The sheep farmer carried on explaining their television agreement to her son: “We compromise, see, she gets to watch something she wants and then I get to watch something I want.“

“Trust her to chose the most obnoxious thing she can possibly find, just to wind me up,“ Caroline interjected but without averting her eyes from the screen. She mumbled the answer to yet another obscure question under her breath.

“Sounds about right,“ Raff chuckled and Gillian leaned over the back of the sofa to slap her son’s arm.

“Remember, it’s a school night,“ she pointed her finger at him.

“Bit rich coming from you.“ He eyed their empty wine glasses. “I feel like the alcohol consume in this house has sky rocketed in the past month.“

“Yeah, well, got to knock ourselves out somehow between the baby crying and you two going at it,“ Gillian quipped, and returned her attention to the television as well.

“You’re just jealous cause you haven’t go a fella right now,“ Raff teased.

“Yeah well, I’m over that for the time being,“ Gillian gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Think you’ve finally gone through all the eligible bachelors in West Yorkshire?“ Caroline saw an opportunity to jump in and tried her best to keep the smallest twang of jealousy from her voice.

“And some of the ineligible ones too,“ Raff added, with a smirk.

“OI!“ Gillian exclaimed, shooting him a glare and kicked Caroline’s leg for siding with him.

“I’d better see if Ellie needs some help…“ Raff was quick to make his escape.

“Yeah, you’d better,“ his mother shouted after him.

“I have to say, you have come a long way since we met. From having three blokes you’re shagging staying over in this place,“ Caroline couldn’t help but comment, recalling the fateful night their parents had gone missing and they had stayed at the farm with Gillian’s three merry men - Paul, John and Robbie - all crammed onto these sofas.

“Bet you wouldn’t have come to stay then, would’ya,“ Gillian hummed, her voice surprisingly neutral.

“Could have joined that exclusive club,“ Caroline smirked, the alcohol loosening her tongue enough to make a joke, one too close to the truth for comfort. She forced herself not to think about what else she could be doing with her tongue right about now.

“Caz!“ Gillian exclaimed, and the headteacher couldn’t quite tell whether she was offended, self-conscious or flattered.

“It really is easy to tease you,“ Caroline back-peddled to safer waters.

“Yeah well, you’re living with Yorkshire’s greatest slapper so jokes on you,“ Gillian huffed. “Watch your f-bloody University Challenge.“

“Hm, yes, what will people think,“ Caroline chuckled and did as she was told.

[crackinwise]

Mondo having a thing about coating Taka with hickeys and Taka having a thing about very much enjoying the process is a good headcanon I've seen used several times, in both fic and art.

I see it causing an issue for them at least once.

Kiyotaka has the syllabus and upcoming events memorized before he and Mondo have a "session" so he won't be caught broadcasting his love life unwelcomed. Besides, he always fears he'll be accused of being hedonistic and immoral just for using some free time to feel wanted by the man he loves.

Meanwhile, Mondo knows to keep it below the uniform collar, but that's a lot of fair game there. After one night where they get carried away, Taka's torso from the base of the neck down looks like a leopard. Taka looks like he lost a fight with an octopus. But it's fine because a)Taka wanted it, and b)he can still look presentable in public with them covered.

But, the next day at gym, the class is told the schedule had to be rearranged and everyone is to head up to the pool. Taka instantly panics.

As everyone starts walking, he grabs Mondo's arm and pulls him to the back of the group.

"Mondo," he hisses, "I can't go to the pool!"

"Why?"

Taka fully despairs for a brief second. "If I take off my uniform, everyone will see the marks you've made!"

The caveman part of Mondo's brain makes his chest want to swell with a mixture of pride and possession, but it plummets down to become a lead ball in his stomach the instant he notices the unshed tears and fear in Taka's large eyes.

"It's okay. S'okay, I'll figure somethin out. Let's just get goin," Mondo promises him.

He can't let Taka feel humiliated. He mostly trusts his classmates by now--Taka would never have another middle school experience--but this wasn't a couple hickeys to get teased over and laugh off. Their peers' first reaction might be to get Taka a bodyguard and Mondo a muzzle. The teacher might investigate; Taka's dad might be called. Mondo shakes away the mental image of a mortified Taka and tries to actually problem solve.

He couldn't picture Taka sitting the period out on the bleachers and risk being a bad class leader. Taka could lie about feeling sick or needing somewhere else to be to work on his Talent, but he wouldn't. Taka wouldn't forgive him for pulling the fire alarm either. He didn't know of any clubs Taka could help at this hour. Would anything at the pool hide him when they got there?

Mondo's head snaps up with an idea and he walks faster to catch up with the classmate who made swimming pools her domain. "Asahina!"

Hina stops hopping around excitedly next to Sakura and turns to address him. "Mondo? What's up?"

He starts to whisper while also glaring at any classmates daring to curiously rubberneck. "I need a favor. Do ya have one of them, like, swim shirts? Y'know, surfers and shit wear 'em?"

"A rash guard?"

"Sure."

Hina frowns, apologetic. "No, I never thought to bring one here since the pool is indoors." She gives him a once-over. "And I'm not sure we'd be the same size."

"It's not...for me." Mondo rubs the back of his neck anxiously. He makes sure to keep his voice low. "It's for Taka."

"Since when does Ishimaru prefer a rash guard while swimming?" Kyoko asks, suddenly appearing on Mondo's other side, startling him.

"Holy fuck! Who who asked you?!" he yelps.

"You're not as quiet as you think you are," she helpfully warns them. "Here, let's walk to the side a bit."

The three step to the outside of the pack of students to continue talking a bit more covertly.

"Now, Oowada, what's this about?" Kyoko asks, eyes sharp.

Yeah!" Hina loudly whispers back. "Is Taka all right? Him asking for cover is concerning, ya know!"

Mondo's defensive annoyance threatens to flare up. "He's fine, but he can't go in the pool today. I can't tell ya why, so don't ask."

Maybe if another teacher needed help, but Mondo didn't know of any and unless one walked down the hall, he couldn't beg them. Or the headmaster!

"Oi!" Mondo's outburst causes Hina to jump. He lowers his voice once again, "Kirigiri! I need ya to ask yer dad if he has anythin he can call for Taka to work on. Like, now, for the whole period."

Kyoko's cool eyes narrow at him. He knows she's still trying to suss out his motives.

"If it were just for you, I'd demand more of an explanation, but this is for Ishimaru, right?" Even as she asks, she has her phone out, texting the headmaster. Mondo catches a glimpse of her text starting with "URGENT" and feels a wave of appreciation.

Finished, she looks from her phone back to Taka, still uncharacteristically silent and walking yards behind everyone else. She notes how he's hugging himself and darting his unfocused eyes around.

"Hmm." Her hand is up to her chin in thought. "Well, all we can do is wait for my father to answer me or make an announcement on his own. I could always just lie and say my father requested him."

"Y'know damn well he'd hate that and give us both detention when he found out," Mondo gripes. He understands why Taka refuses a little dishonest help, but it's still frustrating as hell sometimes.

"Yes," she agrees, her voice was as level and confident as always, "but that depends on how much he'd rather be tricked than show off your love bites."

"Right? Damn."

Hina, still close by and listening, covered her mouth to muffle a giggle.

Then Mondo's steps faltered. "HEY!"

His shout echoed around the hall, causing a few students to eyeball them. Makoto was clutching his chest, about ready to imitate a fainting goat.

Kyoko didn't so much as blink though. "It's as if you forget who I am. But don't worry, I'll take all the blame for lying to Ishimaru if it comes to that."

"Thanks," Mondo sighs out. "If you two didn't help, I was gonna pay Hiro to predict a pool disaster big enough to stall."

That causes Hina and Kyoko to realize the severity of the situation might be more than simple awkwardness.

"You know Hiro would try to charge you, like, hundreds of dollars for that," Hina says, worried. "Maybe thousands. Is Taka really that embarrassed by a hickey?"

Mondo swallows thickly but doesn't answer. He feels incredibly guilty. He feels like a danger to Taka's reputation for a new reason than the usual ones that sometimes haunt him. He knows hormones and his lack of self-control are a bad mix, but add in Taka enthusiastically praising his mouth, and he has zero hope of restraint.

They arrive at the changing rooms for everyone to switch into their swimsuits before going to the pool. The other students file inside while Mondo, Hina, Kyoko, and the trailing Taka hang back.

When Taka stops in front of them, his wide eyes finally focus on Mondo. He glances at the girls then says, hopefully, "Any, um, ideas?"

Mondo worries Taka is going to have a panic attack with the way he's breathing and clutching his blazer closed. As if the marks were magically visible through his uniform shirt too.

Kyoko brings her phone screen up to her face to check for a reply, then shakes her head at Mondo. Hina wrings her hands.

Deciding he's just going to kidnap Taka for the rest of the day and risk his boyfriend never speaking to him again, Mondo starts to grab Taka's arm.

The P.A. system squeaks on. "ISHIMARU, YOUR ASSISTANCE IS NEEDED IN THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE, PLEASE!"

All four friends sag with relief. Hina does a little cheer, gives them a thumbs up and skips into the girl's changing room. Kyoko nods at Mondo's thankful expression and follows her inside.

Taka runs his fingers thru his hair, laughs bubbling out of him. He has no idea what had happened to save him, but he wasn't going to question it just now. He squeezes Mondo's wrist once with his left hand and smiles to convey he was never upset with his partner about the situation. Then he proceeds to speed-walk to the office.

Mondo's frayed nerves want him to break the rules and embrace Taka, but his impulsive actions have caused enough problems today. He turns to go get changed for the pool, his caveman pride starting to return after helping to protect his Kiyotaka.

Following this, Taka didn't let them have another "session" for a month, and when he did he made contingency plans to be nowhere near the pool for a full week.

[transrevolutions]

Les Amis Childhood Headcanons: Part One (Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac)

Enjolras grew up in a suburban upper-middle class family, cookie cutter house, yard, etc. His parents both were pretty high up in the tech industry (you know, the kind of jobs where they pay you a ton but also treat you like shit), so materially, he was pretty privileged. (Of course if we're talking about like, how his childhood was from an emotional standpoint, it was shit.)

His parents were big on the whole "respect authority" stuff, there was a lot of "know your place" talk around the house. It was kind of the beat-it-into-the-child philosophy, except the beating was emotional rather than physical. Except it backfired, because instead of making a kid who learned to keep his head down and follow orders, it made a very, very, angry kid who learned that authority was never to be trusted and would do pretty much anything to protect the little guy.

Enjolras's parents would tell him that they were mild compared to most parents, and the fact that his first friend was Eponine, whose parents literally neglected her, accidentally drilled this into his head more. It wasn't until about high school that he met a wider group of people and realized, oh. It's not until college, when he finally moves out, that he can take a step back and say never, ever again, I'm free, they were wrong, never again.

Combeferre, on the other hand, grew up in a family living paycheck-to-paycheck. He never went hungry, or got evicted, but money was a little tighter. His parents encouraged him to pursue academics, and he liked it, so it worked out well. They weren't touchy-feely parents at all, and that was mutual, so Combeferre was generally a pretty quiet, independent kid, and that was fine by everyone.

Combeferre always had a very keen sense of right vs. wrong, and he hated things like wars and killing, which set him apart from the rest of the rowdy elementary schoolers. He was the kid who would sit on the bench at recess reading his book instead of playing. He did get angry sometimes, especially about when things weren't fair, so you'd have this quiet good little student who all of a sudden would stand up and blurt out this cutting remark before sitting back down and continuing to do his work.

Combeferre as a teen/young adult never caught the tear-it-all-down-and-build-it-back-better attitude that Enjolras (and to a degree, Courfeyrac) had. He was always for peace, unity, and negotiation rather than tearing down buildings. But sometimes, in the dark, when nobody else is watching, he thinks burn it down burn it all down they need to pay, and that part of him bubbles just under the surface, but he pushes it down, because what good will it do?

Courfeyrac grew up rich. His family went way back with lots of money and he was totally that kid whose parents took him to Hawaii every summer and he'd tell people about it, and they'd just look at him like wtf kid how because he didn't understand that other people don't live that way. He had a big, warm family who sheltered him from the more ugly parts of the world, so as a kid he was naïve and affluent. He had a great childhood, until the other shoe dropped.

Around middle school was when he had his YA protagonist moment, because that was when he switched from a private school to a public one. And he realized, fuck. And he was torn between being shocked and ashamed when he realized that he had his giant house with the backyard pool and the kid who sat next to him in art class literally lived on the streets.

He didn't cut off his family. He loved them, they loved him, he didn't like their extravagance but he cared about them too much to just walk out on them. He and Enjolras had a huge row about that in college, because Enjolras (who wasn't even on the level of Courfeyrac, wealth-wise, but still grew up with quite a bit) was pissed that he was so fucking indulgent a literal Danton while people were fucking starving, and Courfeyrac was like well what the hell do you want? For me to abandon my family? Like that philosopher guy you basically worship? Some people have a life outside of your fucking cause, okay? (They did work it out, later, after they'd both cooled down. They still fought and bickered, but they both promised to never, ever go that far again.)

[narrators-journal]

A threat appears

So! This one I actually changed the title of this part, but otherwise, not much is different.

Cw: Illumi murders someone, I go into a bit of detail with it. Enjoy!

Previous part: here

First part: here

(f/n) was much more social than you, much more social. Which was a bit annoying to Illumi. Despite having achieved a potential wife...possibly...he wasn't sure, he still didn't like being pulled into a party (f/n) had gone to. But they weren't like you, helpfully isolated and reclusive. No, according to Milluki's research, they lived in a college dorm, so at least one person was around at night, which was the best time for hits so their room mate was quite the annoyance already, and during the day they regularly had friends around or were in class, in public, or otherwise surrounded by students and people of all sorts. Witnesses. So, the man had to once again slip into a social gathering and blend in to get to the person he wanted to kill. It brought back horrible memories of the hit he'd run into you on.

That's why he stood in some strangers living room, dressed in a baggy (college) sweater and some sweat pants, his long, black hair pulled up into a ponytail while faux sipping on a cup of cheap beer and watching while (f/n) danced to some random song he didn't know.

These rare moments where he actually needed to worm his way into social circles like this at least gave him a reason to dip into the small collection of 'casual' clothes he had, but that fact did little to actually make Illumi enjoy the need to listen to annoyingly loud drunk women, or sometimes assure an overly drunk college student that no, just because his hair was long and he wasn't built like some Dorito that did not mean he was a female or a lesser male. But, this was a nuisance he had to deal with. (f/n) had to learn that they couldn't set you up on dates, after all, you were far too reclusive to go on a date yourself, or go dragging you off to distant areas where the assassin couldn't protect you. You couldn't entertain him if you weren't somewhere he could watch you, now could you?

Luckily, Illumi being in sweatpants and a sweatshirt didn't kill the predatory charm he had, in fact, it seemed to increase his draw, judging by the fair number of party girls who tried to talk to him and lure him back to their dorms. (f/n) especially seemed prone to his charms, sauntering over, slightly tipsy, to flirt with him when they'd spotted the tall, handsome assassin standing against the wall.

They chatted for a while over the loud music while people around them danced, came and went from the house, or made out in the corner, then Illumi made his move,             "you want to maybe talk somewhere a bit quieter?" he suggested, letting his voice gain a tiny bit of suggestion to spark their interest. Of course, with the alcohol and abundance of lust coursing through their veins, they took the bait easily, nodding and grabbing his wrist to pull him outside to a more private, quiet part of the yard behind a small shed or whatever the host had in their yard.             "there anything you want to talk about in particular?" (f/n) asked, their own voice full of suggestion and flirtation.             "Nothing really, just wanted to do this," he hummed, swooping in and kissed them, making your friend squeak, but they didn't really hesitate to kiss back.

While Illumi struggled with love, empathy, compassion, so on, he did take some pride in the fact that he wasn't bad in the plainly intimate areas, (f/n) however he couldn't say was outright bad, but definitely not the best he'd had. their mouth tasted of beer and chewing gum, and their kisses were sloppy and uncoordinated, but he could compare and contrast the quality later, right now his main priority was breathing. He pulled away and gave a charming grin to (f/n) when they giggled,            "y'know, maybe we should head off to my dorm~" they hummed, twirling a finger in Illumi's long, silky hair. He hummed and made a show of thinking about it, in reality he knew instantly to agree, than nodded. (F/n) smiled at that and didn't hesitate to drag him back to their dorm. As he was dragged in, Illumi swiftly noticed that your friends room mate was gone. This situation couldn't be any more perfect, could it? And the assassin was happy to take advantage of the rare situation. Illumi kissed (f/n) again, letting them drag him onto their dorm bed and cling to him eagerly. He ignored how their fingers tangled in his hair, instead using the time to mull over how this situation wasn't awakening that primal need to breed that seemed to kick in over simply glimpsing your bare skin. Though, while his thoughts weren't super focused on the act he was partaking in, he still went through the basic motions with practiced ease, running his hands up and down their sides, kissing a trail down their neck, and than pulling their top over their head. Though he didn't toss it away. Instead, before (f/n) could strip his clothes off, he wrapped it around their throat and tightened it until your friends eyes widened and they gasped weakly. He knew better than to use his hands,  that risked getting him scratches on his hands, and leave DNA, so he was extra careful as he stared down at the person coldly. (f/n)'s eyes filled with a primal terror he'd seen many times before when he started strangling them, but Illumi was a trained murderer, (f/n) was a normal college student. When they started writhing and trying to claw at his arms it was easy for him to ignore the meager amounts of pain. Maybe they have a point though. he thought about his current victim's insistence to socialize you, simultaneously moving to straddle his victim better so they couldn't kick him or get free, Dates seem to be a far better option for learning about someone, and it'd be easier on my back than hiding in trees and shrubbery and sitting so still for long periods. He hummed absentmindedly, keeping (f/n)'s shirt tightly around their throat when they went still and tried to fake death to get free,                 "Smart move, but I know how long it takes to die of asphixiation." he told them calmly, which brought another struggle, this one far more primal and desperate, but he smoothly avoided all of their attempts to scratch his face, and his clothes kept them from clawing any DNA from his arms or legs, so despite their best efforts, even such vicious attacks didn't get them free. Eventually, they did truly suffocate, Illumi made sure by keeping the shirt taut for another full minute before loosening the fabric. After that, he simply disposed of the body in a nearby lake and went home. The next month was bland on your front. He couldn't really blame you completely for being so upset, you didn't know he was around to give you company, and your meager friend pool had shrunk by one, so he supposed your mental health was a bit at risk. It surely didn't help that Illumi had also made your date disappear like your friend, but he could help you through depression, and the lonelier you were, the better chances he had when he swept in and dated you. All he had to do was wait for the perfect time. Which was honestly boring.

[prorevenge]

Bridezilla Karen ends up looking like a pauper at her own wedding.

I (F48) have known “Pat” (F48) for decades. As far as I can remember, she was fixated on having 5 children and a picket fence dream life. I slowly cut ties with her in college because she was an opportunist and I didn’t trust her. She is both manipulative and forceful. Her idea of cute rubs me the wrong way. Pat likes to walk like a penguin when she wants to elicit pity, and she usually does this when she wants to evoke the underdog narrative. I’ve never seen someone act so despicable and ridiculous at the same time.

I moved on with my life. Happily got rid of her for years. Pat eventually found me on facebook. I accepted her friend request out of politeness.

Pat has become the epitome of a permissive mother. Her (5) kids do as they please and she never calls them out. She tried to force a relationship between me and her daughters and made them call me Auntie. Pat tried to drop them at my house uninvited. Her phone calls were insistent, she tried to monopolize my time and she began to show up at my job. I created some boundaries so she tried to find loopholes. It was a nightmare.

My husband and I hosted a party for the community center (not the real name) new members. The community center is actually a very informal initiative and my husband and I mainly serve the homeless population. We prefer to help strangers instead of catering to potentially narcissistic acquaintances. We don't mind lending a hand but we have encountered truly dishonest choosing beggars.

There are other services, like one of the members who helps women get their wedding and prom dresses for free.The community center location “headquarters” is actually a farm owned by an elderly couple. There is a barn, a venue and a very nice green field with an artificial lake and some fowl. They charge for the use of their facilities (weddings , etc.) but not for community oriented stuff.

Pat had always been salty at her husband for demanding that she go back to work after baby #3. In the meantime, he worked three jobs. She demanded he get her pregnant to fulfill her dream of having 5 kids. He didn’t agree, because he was already nearly 45 and felt like he might never be able to retire. She got away with bringing new babies into this world anyway. Her fascination with being pregnant comes from all the attention she gets. She had at least one miscarriage in between each kid.

Pat latched on to our group. She never missed any of our activities. I hated having her in my house, but it was an open invitation that included virtually everyone and she was very active as an event organizer. I didn’t like the way her kids behaved. We have a designated area for parties and entertainment, but her kids ended up inside my bedroom. We ended up having to keep watch of them and enjoyed zero of our own party.

I called her days later to get my point across (regarding their overall behavior) but she completely cut me off and began talking about herself and said her kids wanted to come visit again and use our pool. I never answered that. I didn't want to say “no, I will not have your brats over”.

She also called me as summer was approaching specifically to let me know her middle daughter was bored and wanted to spend a WEEK at our home. I politely declined, citing that me and my husband have to work and cannot entertain guests. .

Pat paid no heed. Her kid called me on the weekend,calling me “auntie” and attempted to coax me by saying “Mom says you invited me to spend SUMMER with you”. I quickly clarified, and offered an explanation to avoid hurting a kid’s self esteem. Nevermind. Her daughter just hung up on me.

Pat’s facebook also showed some red flags. Some cryptic rants here and there were visible, along with friends’ comments and complaints on how she asked a particular person to watch her kids only for a couple of hours and ended up leaving them all day. Another of her friends criticized her “girls night out “ because Pat had just asked them to be patient and wait until she could pay back some money that she owed them, yet she had money to spend on Friday night outings. I thought those very public comments on private matters were more like a cry of lost patience.

Unpleasant things began to happen. Like the time she volunteered to wrap the Xmas presents for underprivileged kids. We all wanted to create a mix of less costly gifts with really nice ones. Surprisingly, some nice and eye-catching toys and games went missing but turned up under her Christmas Tree (courtesy of her mother in law’s FB posts). No one could prove anything but it was hate-inducing. Or the time my daughter called me in tears to pick her up after she attended Pat’s daughter’s birthday (Casey). My daughter had been ignored all night because she didn’t gift her the expensive gaming stuff Casey practically demanded. My daughter did ask, but I said no. We would buy her a very nice and thoughtful present according to her taste. So when I went to pick her up my daughter was sitting alone in the living room while Casey and her friends stayed outside.

Stories about Pat and her family multiplied. The owners at the farm (community center) decided keep their their gates locked unless they had guests or events because Pat got in the habit of driving in whenever she pleased and it was either her kids screaming and disturbing on-going weddings, throwing rocks at the koi in the lake or harassing the geese in the yard. Or how she stiffed another soccer mom with the lunch bill and then pulled the struggling financially card. Or how other parents hated her because she created unnecessary hostile competition.

When my daughter turned 13, I allowed her to wear my grandma’s ring. It's not an expensive piece of jewelry, but it's vintage and girls nowadays wanna look boho. My Granny gave it to me when I became a teenager so I passed it on to my kid so she could wear it on her birthweek.

It was weird that she became quiet and distracted after that. She also didn’t want to go to school and my husband and I became suspicious. She never opened up, and my other kids had no clue.

We went to her school but her teachers assured us nothing had changed in her environment. My husband and I suspected she was being bullied but our kid gave us no tools to support her. My kid is very sunny, and very compassionate. She has never had any problems with other kids. I called her best friend’s mom. Natalie, my kid’s BFF, told us what was going on. Casey (Pat’s eldest) and my daughter had become “close”. I knew this and wasn’t too thrilled. I found the age (Casey was 17) gap not exactly inappropriate but I’d rather see my daughter spend time with friends in the same age range. Casey is very beautiful and a gifted student. She is also very conceited. To make this story short, she asked my daughter if she could try on the ring and refused to give it back. She later claimed that she lost it but “would look for it” so my daughter was distraught. My daughter kept asking for her ring and as a result, Casey shunned her and spread the word that my kid was trying to steal HER ring. Some kids at school took Casey’s side. So now Casey just wore my kid’s jewelry to school like nothing happened. If that doesn’t qualify as taunting I don't know what does.

My guilt comes from not being able to get my daughter to open up and feel safe telling me the truth. I talked to her and she burst into tears. I was both pained as a mother and furious that some teenage b!tch was doing this under our noses.

I went straight to Pat’s car after school. I asked to talk as Casey was about to go in. So I grabbed Casey’s hand and asked to see her jewelry. Casey froze and she tried to make a fist, so I became relentless. Casey yelled “Mom!” and Pat struggled to get out of the car. I slid the ring off (Casey has tiny hands and wore the ring on her index finger). First Pat yelled at me. After I confronted her with the engraving on the band (my grandma's maiden name), she argued it was loaned to her daughter by my kid. Then she said she bought it. I paid no heed. I did warn them that I knew Casey had become an abusive friend to my daughter.

Pat called me to tell me off. She said she was trying to raise an assertive young woman and I had just messed that up by being “overbearing”. She never apologized for her thief of a child.

Pat's husband ( Hank) is what can be described as a doormat. Pat wore him down to a knob. He had no choice but to “obey” her to keep the peace. She was a bully who actively withdrew affection when he didn’t follow her wishes, even in public. So she got kids #4 and #5 after a relentless campaign that included leaving him for two months. Her pregnancies were a nuisance because she expected to be treated like the only lady who has even been pregnant. She strolled around in a wheelchair almost immediately after getting pregnant and she would “get very sick” on weekends, so her kids were often sent to friends and family so that she could “rest”.

Pat systematically bullied Hank. She would leave town and take the kids with her. Poor Hank would look distraught, drinking on his porch or just looking really lonely. This is how she got off the hook and was able to leave her job. Hank had virtually no voice, so he struggled to keep the marriage together. Everyone liked him, but hated her equally. Hank loved to talk to other people but seemed concerned that Pat would be upset. Over time, according to my husband, Hank began to show signs of depression and mental distress.

Our friend, Lenah, runs the wedding/prom dress initiative. It's not complicated. Dresses are sourced from donations, ebay, trunk shows, etc. Unusually beautiful dresses are retained so that more than one bride gets to wear them. In some cases, a bride will pay 50 bucks, but most of the time, the dresses are donated to the bride.

Pat was involved in this. Lenah kept her in because they never had any issues and her task was limited to just shipping the dresses out.

Pat decided to renew her vows and her bridezilla Karenzilla attitude became the icing on the cake. For starters, she bullied another couple into giving up their wedding date at the farm because she “needed her renewal to match her exact wedding date”. They were not impressed with her harassment, so they booked another venue. As a result, the farm owners were pissed because Pat was already costing them money after she had successfully negotiated a cut in their rate “because she couldn't afford it but will repay by doing maintenance work around the venue” (she never made good on her word).

Pat became attached to a particular dress that was already assigned to another bride. Lenah made it clear that she would need to pay for her own dress. So Pat played it cool and shipped the wrong gown instead. She was adamant that it was the right dress, despite all the notes on Leah’s agenda. The other bride was truly gracious about it. She was obviously disappointed, but never made a scene.

What bothered me most is that I picked that dress and bought it for 40 bucks at a garage sale (not my money, Leah’s money). It was a vintage dress, ankle length, white with lots of lace and a huge bargain. Again, when confronted, Pat “did a Casey” and used the “this is mine” strategy. We felt so bad for the other bride that we did our best to get her something nice to wear. The other bride was a true fighter, she had pulled out of welfare, earned her high school diploma and was working to get on her feet by trying to earn a certificate as an acrylic nail technician. So, her reward was to have some Karen steal her dress? Pat never admitted to messing up, but just by the fact that she claimed it was her dress, we knew.

Lenah never allowed her in her warehouse again. Their last phone fight ended with Pat bringing up the other bride’s past (like it mattered) and “this conversation is over, it's my dress and you are mistaken”. That was weeks before the other bride’s wedding.

Pat went all out on her wedding decor. She spent way too much. She hired a caterer for some food (mainly mimosas and appetizers), but the wedding invitation included a request for specific dishes for her Sunday brunch wedding. Either she ran out of banquet money or was on a complete moocher mode.I picture the penguin walking upon practically asking everyone to supply her wedding reception grub and I cringe.

There is nothing wrong with potluck weddings. In fact, they can be a nice addition to a very cozy and family oriented wedding reception. But, don’t you need to at least be close to your guests in order to ask for such a thing? Even I got an invitation. I told everyone I wasn’t going because I was very uncomfortable being told what to bring and was probably expected to give them a cash gift on top of that. Some of the older ladies in our group agreed. Some said they would not decline in advance because she is a bully and they didn’t want a confrontation.

Lenah called me the night before Pat’s re-wedding. Lenah was there to close the Saturday night bingo and Pat was awfully friendly, but that’s what she does whenever things are going her way. Lenah peeked into the garment bag and saw the exact same dress while Pat was caught up supervising the wedding decoration.

The thing with Karens is that they expect everyone to suck it up, or make their dreams come true, or they simply underestimate everyone and think we are all fools.

Lenah is a very straightforward person with a “so sue me” attitude. She told me she would just ruin the dress. After all, it was hers, so she could do whatever she wanted. If Pat wanted to take legal action, and should things get ugly, she needed to prove ownership. However, the dress was the same, the marks inside the hem and the tags were the same. Even the tag numbers that were punched to identify each dress for logistics purposes matched.

Pat had the dress altered, with some extra beading and dyed to a deep cream color. But it was obviously the same garment. Lenah and I snuck in before the venue was closed for the night. All brides are allowed to stay in a small bedroom for a small charge, so that they don’t need to drive in on their wedding day. Honestly, the makeshift chapel was gorgeous, I don’t know how she paid for it but it was full of flowers and presumptuous details. I naively brought in some ink to spill on the dress, but Lenah said she wanted “something more awful, like a nasty surprise”. Ink would be too obvious and if she saw it ahead, she may be able to snag another gown from somewhere. No, the ideal thing was to have her trust the dress was fine. So Lenah locked herself in a bathroom stall and completely cut out the back panel. She patiently put it back on its hanger and zipped the bag. We left through the emergency door with the back of the dress stuffed inside Lenah's purse. I completely hate people who target and steal from anyone they (Pat and her kid) calculate to be in a weaker position.

The wedding was scheduled at 9 AM. Pat called me at 7 AM, but I ignored her calls. I picked up by 8 AM, both curious and wondering if she suspected anything. Pat was frantic.She was crying that her dress was “missing by half”. I purposely made her explain, being annoyingly dense and continually interrupting like she does, and stalling the conversation. She asked me if I could lend her my wedding dress. I said no, sorry. She then asked me if I would help her get a dress. I was satisfied to remind her that the town's bridal shops were closed on Sunday and the others that would open were almost an hour away. The farm is already almost one hour away from our town.

If Pat could get a shop to rent a dress, she would need to try the dress on, and get it steamed. Even if the dress was ready to wear, it would easily take more than two hours (roundtrip). She tried to ask me to go pick a dress (who would pay for this??). Even if a shop were open and brought her a dress, it would add to the cost. Also, these shops open at 10 or 9:30 at earliest. By time they got to her, it would be time to wrap up the wedding because she needed to clear the venue by 12:00 for the next event.

She broke down and mumbled some stupid stuff I didn't understand. So Pat hung up on me and called Lenah instead.. She asked Lenah to bring her “anything she had available”. Lenah and I ended up delivering the most outdated, moss smelling, oversized dressed. Pat’s disappointment was a mix between angry and emotional. She also tried to wear her knee length silk bridal slip as a wedding dress but it was too obvious and it really looked cheap. She tried to get her daughter to give her her own dress to wear with an open back zipper (due to fitting issues) but Casey refused, asking if she was supposed to attend the wedding naked (she got a point, plus Casey is petite).

The dress needed a petticoat to plump up the skirt, which wasn’t available. So it dragged all over the floor and Pat had to keep pulling it up. Pat walked down the aisle with one hand on her bouquet and another one grabbing her dress. The dress looked limp and weird with the arrangements of pins (they didn’t show) that caused the sleeves and neckline to pucker into messy rims. She spent the ceremony looking uncomfortable and out of place. Very few people attended but that was not part of any revenge, that was just how people reacted to her entitled attitude.

The dress looked awful. The reception portion of the wedding had all this princely decoration, a very nice cake and a bridezilla with a dress from hell. I didn’t stay, but I was told, she was so disappointed she spent her wedding sulking. There was no dance, no actual speech. She had to change into a shirt and leggings because the dress was too uncomfortable. Everyone talked about how Pat put on her flip flops and walked around aimlessly until she ordered the ushers to start folding up the chairs within one hour of the reception. So she practically kicked everyone out and the cake was never cut.

Pat wasn’t the same after this.She was not as loud and avoided everyone. I think she was disappointed that nobody ran to her rescue, not even her family who came from out of town.

Her husband finally cracked under all the pressure and sought some help. He was slaving away and coming home to clean the house while Pat used her kids as an excuse to spend like crazy. Hank also had to do kid homework because Pat never had time or never had patience. She also refused to get a partime job so her kids could attend an afterschool and get help with their school stuff. Therapy seemed to help Hank because the last time Pat left with her kids, he didn't seem distraught. He would be riding his bicycle and could be seen more relaxed while mowing his lawn. Hank told my husband that he had contemplated suicide after their third kid. When Pat returned, he maintained the routine but was interested in going out by himself and doing things for himself. We began to see Pat alone all the time. Hank was seen less and less in the same car and eventually moved in with his parents. He filed for divorce on the grounds of emotional cruelty and I don't think he won. Instead (I’m not sure of this because this is what I was told) there was some sort of a settlement or agreement that she would not get close or interact with him unless it has to do with the kids).

I also don’t know if Pat even actually suspected who/what happened to her dress. She slowly pulled away from the community center and became less active in social gatherings. Pat also removed me from her facebook as well as mostly everyone else from school and the center.

TLDR

Bridezilla stole a wedding dress from an underprivileged woman. The actual dress owner destroys her big day.

(source) story by (/u/forestcabin123k)

[miracleonice87]

Make You Feel My Love with Nathan MacKinnon

a Nathan MacKinnon song fic

a/n: season outcome, timing, and stats = totally fake. based on Nate’s public mentions in past interviews of seeing a sports psychologist, which is really inspiring to me. seeking professional advice is a GOOOOD thing! also, wasn’t originally intended to be a song fic, but Adele’s version of Make You Feel My Love (originally by Bob Dylan) came on while I was finishing it up, so I went with it! last note: pretending Tyson never got traded to the Leafs is the best part of writing hockey fanfiction. 🥺

summary: Angry/Sad Nate loses in the playoffs and takes his frustrations out on his girlfriend Sam, who gets comfort and advice from his teammates and friends.

warnings: swearing; isolated, individual outbursts of anger but NO physical violence; mentions of counseling/therapy and the practice of sports psychology (obviously, like I mentioned, this is a good thing but just something to know); crying Nate (I feel like that deserves a warning)

_____

Deflated, I sat in a bulky black chair in the team family room deep in the recesses of the Pepsi Center for several minutes after leaving the wives and girlfriends suite, needing a moment away from prying eyes and cameras to process what had just occurred.

The Avalanche had been one of the highly favored teams in the West all season long, yet had just been swept in the second round of the playoffs. My boyfriend, Nathan MacKinnon, widely regarded as one of the best players in the NHL, had totaled only one point in the 11 playoff games the team had played this year, earning a single assist on a Mikko Rantanen goal.

Needless to say, that hadn’t been sitting right with Nate.

He’d been short with me since the first few games of the postseason; even shorter than he typically got when he was in a drought. I had tried to give him space, but he snapped about the smallest questions I asked or requests I made of him: what he wanted for dinner, or to be sure he called to wish his sister Sarah a happy birthday. He sometimes mumbled an apology in my general direction, but more often than not, he simply left the room in a huff. I tried my best to be patient — to give him space.

It was abundantly clear that the pressure that always loomed heavy over Nathan like a thick, dark cloud had now intensified. I knew, without him ever verbalizing it, that he felt more burdened than ever before to live up to the hype — to the expectations he had for himself, and to those placed on him, either explicitly or implicitly, by the entire hockey community and the media.

When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

I sat still with my head in my hands for what seemed like forever, until sweet Mel Landeskog, whom I had become so close with over the last four seasons of watching our significant others play together, came and rubbed my back gently through the custom Avs denim jacket that hung on my shoulders. I lifted my head to look at her, a sympathetic smile etched on her beautiful features.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Mel offered. “I know he’s gonna be so hard on himself. But he had such a great season — he needs to be proud of that,” she reasoned. I nodded.

Mel was right. He had had a truly remarkable regular season — he had scored 95 points in 82 games after a enduring a considerable slump for much of the previous year. This year stood in stark contrast to last. He had been riding high for many weeks; that is, until playoffs hit.

I stood to wrap Mel in a hug, appreciative of her gesture of support but unwilling to reflect on Nate’s play right now. “Thank you, Mel,” I told her as I squeezed her tightly. “I’m gonna miss you so much this summer,” I added, gesturing to the car seat on the floor beside her. “And Nate and I will both miss that little one, too,” I said as I blew Linnea a kiss, making her giggle, a welcome sound after a heartbreaking display on the ice. Mel glanced down at her baby daughter, beaming.

“I know, honey. We’ll miss you too. But it won’t be long until we’re all back here together, plus we’ll see each other for a couple of these bachelorette parties and summer weddings and get-togethers, yeah?” she said with a nudge.

“Yeah, that’ll be nice. Until then, you guys be safe,” I told her. With one last hug and quick kisses to each other’s cheeks, Mel picked up Linnea in her seat and exited the room. I realized that she and I had been the last two wives or girlfriends to leave, with most of us having exchanged quiet goodbyes in the suite before making hasty escapes to the parking area to console our respective sad hockey players.

With a groan at the depressing thought, I pulled my jean jacket tighter to my torso and walked slowly out the open door.

When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one there to dry your tears

I could hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love

The locker room doors stood maybe ten yards down the hall. The usual rambunctious ruckus that so often echoed off the cinderblock walls was tonight exchanged for a thick silence. It seemed that most of the guys had already left, and those who remained were noiseless. I softly greeted a few of the familiar men who made their way out the doors, offering only a sad smile and a few words of comfort to each, knowing that they weren’t in the mood to engage. They were, however, still polite, with several of the players embracing me briefly or kissing my cheek as they left the building.

Gabe Landeskog was among the very last to leave the room, unsurprisingly, as he was ever the responsible and respectable captain. He spotted me immediately and enveloped me in his strong grasp.

“Hi, friend,” I whispered into his shoulder, worried that my voice would break. “Hi, söt flicka,” (sweet girl) he countered.

“I’m sorry, Cap,” I told him quietly. He pulled back and shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Wasn’t our year,” he replied with a shrug. “As you can imagine, Nate is taking it pretty hard...” his voice trailed off. “I just want you to be prepared,” he finally added, carefully.

My stomach knotted. I tucked some of my hair behind my ear and swiftly licked my lips, feeling anxiety pool in my gut.

Gabe placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Just remember it’s not you he’s upset with. It’s himself,” he said softly. I quickly glanced up at him and nodded. “Thank you,” I choked out. “Now you better get going. You’ve got two beautiful girls waiting for you,” I told him, feigning a bright grin. He tried to mirror my expression, but fell short. It was unnatural to see such sadness in his normally joyful visage. He squeezed my upper arm.

“That I do,” Gabe agreed. “We’ll see you soon, Sam.”

“Okay,” I whispered. “Bye, Cap.” He gave a solemn nod and disappeared down the hallway.

My unease only multiplied after my exchange with Gabe. I began to pace slowly in a circle. I jumped a few moments later when the door flew open with a screech, Nate emerging from behind it, a bitter, dark expression on his face.

I greeted him softly, tentatively, reaching a hand toward him.

“Nate, baby, I —“

My boyfriend brushed past me in a flash, causing a literal draft of air to hit me as he held up his hand, never even making eye contact with me as he practically stomped down the corridor.

My blood ran hot — how dare he not acknowledge my presence after I had attended how many home games, and even road games, supporting him and cheering him on, no matter what? And that was just this season — what about the three prior? Why was he shutting me out? My heart thumped against my ribcage.

“Nathan,” I called, my voice firm this time, whipping around to face his back and then fumbling with the chain of my Louis Vuitton bag as it fell from my shoulder. Discombobulated, I threaded it back over my arm clumsily and took two hurried steps in Nate’s direction, but he was already out of sight.

Just then, I noticed our close friend Tyson Barrie standing a few feet behind me. I could infer from the way he was approaching me gingerly, which was highly unlike him, that he had witnessed our exchange, or the lack thereof. I sighed and pressed a hand to my forehead, his hand coming to grip my other elbow.

“Sam, sweetheart... you okay?” Tyson asked softly. Hot tears pricked my eyelids, but I refused to let them fall, blinking them back with a sniffle. My hand fell back to my side — I was shaking now.

“I knew he would be mad...” I began. “But what the fuck, Tys?” My voice wavered.

Tyson instinctively pulled my waist to his side, giving me a quick, protective kiss to the temple, before pulling away and offering me his hand.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” he volunteered. With another sniff, I shook my head. “No, it’s okay, Tys. I drove, thank god,” I spat. “Besides, you’re dealing with the same disappointment. You need to go home with Em and unwind,” I insisted, smoothing one hand over his suit jacket. His head dropped and he offered a weak nod.

“I guess. But listen, if he’s still not acting right, call me, okay? You know you can come over. You’re always welcome, especially when he’s being such an ass,” Tyson said, the end of his sentence turning into a growl. We both sighed; I nodded.

“Thanks, Tys. I’ll let you know. And listen, I’m sorry... about tonight. I know it hurts,” I told him, hugging his neck with one arm. He spread his fingers over my back and gave me a squeeze before stepping back to look into my eyes.

“It’s just hockey,” he said quietly. I smiled weakly and nodded once. “Bye, Sam. See you soon,” he said, rubbing one hand over my shoulder as he turned and made his way down the hall to find Emma.

If only Nathan shared his friend’s logic and sentiment.

I dropped my head back at the thought, tears once again collecting in my eyes. I forced them closed in an attempt to stay composed. With another sigh, I slowly started toward the private parking garage where my vehicle waited.

Unsurprisingly, as I stepped through the glass door and into the garage where I spotted my Audi, the spot next to me where Nate’s Porsche had been was empty. I unlocked my car, tossed my bag and scarf into the passenger side, and slammed my door shut before giving the steering wheel two firm bangs with the palm of my hand. My body still hadn’t stopped trembling.

I'd go hungry; I'd go black and blue

I'd go crawling down the avenue

No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do

To make you feel my love

I rested my forehead against the leather steering wheel for a moment before drawing a breath and finally backing out of my spot and exiting the garage, apprehensive of the scene I might find at the condo Nathan and I shared.

_____

I stepped through the front door tentatively, chewing on the inside of my lip. I was careful not to make a sound, walking on tiptoes to avoid clicking my heeled boots on the white tile floor. I dropped my purse onto the table in the entryway and reached to hang up my keys on the rack by the closet when I heard the distinct sound of glass — a lot of glass — shattering.

I froze.

The plans I had formulated in my head during my drive to confront Nate as soon as I arrived home suddenly seemed too unnerving to carry out.

My knees were nearly knocking together as I zipped through the living room and tucked myself behind the wet bar in one corner of the room. I hid myself in a partially-enclosed area where the wine and beer fridge stood, then felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I fumbled to answer it, not wanting to make too much noise.

Sidney Crosby, the onscreen caller ID read. I tapped the green button.

“Hello?” I was caught off guard by how frightened my own voice sounded as I answered.

“Sam, hi. Are you home?” Sid’s usually calm and collected tone was now bathed in concern.

“Hi, Sid. Yeah, I just got home. He’s, uh... it’s not good,” I said quietly, glancing at the staircase as I heard another thud upstairs, this time what sounded like a pair of shoes against Nate’s closet wall. On the other end of the call, Sid heaved a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, I figured,” he said tensely. “I tried calling him thinking I might catch him on his way home and talk him down a bit, but he ignored my call. I’m sorry, Sam. Are you alright?”

I glanced down at my free hand which rested on the oak wood of the bar. I was still trembling, my fears of coming home to chaos having been realized.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I choked out, lying through my teeth. “It’s just hard to watch.”

A deep hum of understanding came from Sid’s throat. “I bet. Have you talked to him?”

I shook my head, despite the fact that Sid was nowhere nearby to see the gesture. “No,” I vocalized weakly. “He uh... he kinda... he didn’t wanna talk to me at the arena... I don’t think.” I fiddled with my promise ring on my left hand as I made the admission. It didn’t even sound like Sid was breathing on the other end of the line.

“You’re telling me he blew you off?” he asked gruffly. I could envision Sidney running a hand over his face before gripping his neat curls atop his dark hair, as he often did when frustrated. I opened my mouth to confirm, but couldn’t actually bring myself to do so, knowing what his reaction would be. I also didn’t want to confess to the commotion I had just heard upstairs, knowing that it would further upset my concerned friend, on my behalf. Instead, I let my silence do the talking.

“Goddammit, Sam,” he growled. “I’m so sorry. He’s young. He- he... I used to do this shit, too,” Sidney admitted with a quick breath. “It’s bullshit. He’s just angry with himself and he’s taking it out on you and it’s not fair. I had hoped I had set a better example about how to deal with these things when they happen... but apparently not.”

A couple of hot tears fell to my face as I responded. “This isn’t your fault, Sid.” He retorted immediately, “Well, it’s sure as hell not yours, either.”

We both sat in contemplation for several moments, neither sure of the next step to take. Then, Sid decided.

“I won’t call him again because he needs to talk to you first. But I am going to text him and urge him that he needs to let you in,” Sid insisted. “He needs to let somebody in,” he repeated. “And it needs to be you first.”

More tears were falling now, and I glanced up at the chandelier overhead and pulled my phone from my ear for a beat to try and settle myself. I wiped at my face with the bottom of my thumb.

“Okay,” I finally whispered. I hadn’t ever really cried around Sid, and while he was one of the nicest and most genuine human beings on the planet, I knew he wasn’t quite accustomed to emotional encounters like this one, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by letting him hear the sobs that were bubbling up in my chest.

“It might not feel like it right now,” Sid broached, speaking in a soothing tone reminiscent of my father’s or brother’s when trying to console me. “But you’re right where you need to be. So is he. He needs you, Sam.”

I've known it from the moment that we met

No doubt in my mind where you belong

“Sam?” Nate suddenly called out from the balcony above me, his voice not sounding heated, but doleful instead. From where he stood upstairs, he couldn’t see me.

“Was that him?” Sid asked. “Yeah,” I said softly, somewhat in response to both men. “Good. He’s coming around. Trust me. I’ll let you go. Text me later, eh?” Sid requested, sounding slightly relieved. “Yeah, I will. Promise. Thank you. Bye,” I said hurriedly before ending the call.

“Sam?” Nate’s voice echoed off the walls once more, sounding desperate this time. My pulse quickened.

“Yeah. I’m coming,” I said softly. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, took a steadying breath, and turned to walk upstairs and face him.

By the time I arrived on the second floor only a handful of moments later, Nate was already back in our bedroom, seated in the oversized Queen Anne chair near the center of the room, elbows on his knees, chin almost to his chest. I was shocked to hear small sobs escaping his lips. He glanced in my general direction, not meeting my eyes, and cried harder.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” Nate finally spoke, somewhat coarsely. My heart seemed to shatter right then, and I felt my body steel in self-defense, preparing for war.

“I can’t even believe how I treated you back there. I’m such an awful fucking human. I’m a monster. I’m so sorry,” Nate added tearfully, catching me off guard.

The storms are raging on the rolling sea

And on the highway of regret

The winds of change are blowing wild and free

You ain't seen nothing like me yet

I immediately let out three sobs that seemed to have been lodged in my throat for almost an hour now and, in an instant, closed the gap between us. I dropped to my knees in front of him and laid my head in his lap, hugging his calves. Never before had we shared such an intensely emotional moment. Above me, he covered his eyes with his hands and drew shallow, gasping breaths in an unsuccessful attempt to calm himself.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he cried, not touching me of his own accord. “I’m so sorry.” I picked up my head and looked at him, urgency coursing through my veins. I needed him to come back to me.

“Nathan, baby, hey,” I coaxed, rubbing his big thigh with my hand, which looked so small in comparison. “Look at me. Please? I need you to.”

After a beat, Nate finally lifted his head from his hands, his pale skin slightly splotchy and tinted red, blue eyes shimmering behind more tears that threatened to fall.

“There’s my handsome man,” I said softly, combing my fingers through the neat hair near his ears, watching him slowly return to me.

“Hey, I want you to listen to me, okay? Tonight you’re allowed to cry it out, or punch our pillows, or run on the treadmill all night to blow off some steam. And then I’ll give you a couple more days to swallow this. But after that? We’re gonna check in with Dr. Butler, both of us, so she can give us some ways to cope with this.”

Nate’s shuddering breaths had finally started to slow as I spoke, referencing one of his most trusted allies, the Denver-based sports psychologist he had been seeing now for a few seasons to help him deal with not only hockey-related challenges and mental blocks, but also general anxiety, in order to boost his mental health. I was careful not to allow my tone to come across as if I were babying him, but instead offering comfort and, more importantly, suggesting help. “Because tonight? These last couple weeks? This can’t be it. We can’t deal with things this way. I don’t want you shutting me out, or Sid, or your family, okay? You wouldn’t let me do that — I’m not gonna let you,” I added.

Nate nodded quickly. “Absolutely, babe. I was just gonna say, as soon as I heard you on the phone downstairs, it really just hit me. I realized I needed to text her and set up an appointment,” he told me, his voice no longer shaky. “And that I needed to apologize to you,” he added softly. I nodded, and he grabbed my hands, pulling me to my feet and then back down to lie in his lap. I threw my legs over one arm of the chair and settled against his chest.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to find comfort in Nate’s heartbeat for a moment, as he pressed soft kisses into my hair, before I looked around the room, assessing the damage. I noticed that his suit coat lay crumpled in the middle of his closet floor, his shoes having bounced off the wall there as I suspected, and they sat out of place atop his neatly assembled collection of footwear. Across from us, I noticed the source of the shattered glass — a shadow box display from Nate’s unforgettable rookie season hung just slightly crooked on the wall, the glass in the front completely broken out, save for the shards along the inner edge of the frame.

Nate followed my gaze to the mess and sighed. “I’m really sorry about that, Sam,” he said, shame creeping into his tone. I nodded knowingly. “What did you throw?” I asked. “That puck they gave me from the last game of the regular season. It was on my dresser when I set my wallet down and it just set me off,” he admitted sheepishly. “It was stupid.”

“Yes, it was stupid to break something that’s valuable to you, but it’s not stupid, what you’re feeling,” I told him firmly. “Besides, we’ll get a new glass panel and it’ll be good as new.” His grip around me tightened, appreciative of my response. “Thank you,” Nate whispered into my ear. I turned to kiss his lips slowly and deeply. He finally pulled back, only to murmur, “I don’t deserve you. I’m so grateful I have you.” I smoothed my thumb across his cheekbone. “I’m always going to be here for you, Nate,” I promised. He gave me one more solemn kiss.

“Listen, I’m gonna carry you into the bathroom so you don’t even get close to any shards of glass, and I’ll clean all this up while you run us a bath,” Nate told me. “I’ll join you soon. I think it’ll be good for both of us, eh?” I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck as he easily picked me up bridal-style and headed toward the en suite.

Things were far from perfect, but I was prepared to do everything in my power to get us as close as possible. From the change in his demeanor, I knew Nate was, too.

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true

Nothing that I wouldn't do

Go to the ends of the Earth for you

To make you feel my love

[puckbuddies]

The bucket list (part 1)

Tyson Jost x reader

6454 words

Thanks to @justjosty for helping me figure out the idea and to @canadianheaters for being my biggest fan always ❤

AN: so back in the day when I was still in the Avengers fandom, I read this fic about doing a bucket list and my fic is inspired by that one. I tried really hard to find it but I think the account deactivated :(. Anyway enjoy 

This was it. The start of the most boring summer vacation of your life. And all thanks to your dear best friend who had decided that staying in Calgary for an internship was more important than coming home with you. This was the first year ever you would have to spend the summer without Ava and you really weren’t looking forward to it. Ever since five years old you guys had been inseparable. Living in the same street, taking up hobbies together, going to the same school and eventually the same university and yet, this was the end.

You were just being dramatic, it was most definitely not the end. Still, standing in Kelowna International Airport by yourself, it kind of felt like it was.

It was just a month until you would see Ava again but that was the longest you’d ever been apart and you hoped it wouldn’t put a strain on your friendship. To be quite honest, you already missed her.

You were happy to see your parents of course and wrapping them up in a hug in the middle of the airport made you forget about Ava for a second. You hadn’t seen them since the middle of march and you knew that being home would help you relax regardless of your company.

Ava didn’t leave your mind for long though, just like she didn’t pretty much the whole flight home and you knew exactly why she didn’t. You could still recall the conversation you both had about a week before.

~~ “But it’s going to be so boring without you.” you whined while dramatically flopping down onto the sofa.

“Find someone to make it fun then. You know, this is the perfect opportunity for a steamy holiday romance.”

“Who wants a holiday romance when you could have New girl marathons in your comfiest pajamas?”

“Y/n, I’m sorry. You know I want to go home too but this is really important for my future.”

“I get that and I fully support you. I just wish it didn’t mean I had to spend a month inside my room.”

“Stop being dramatic. You can still do fun things, you don’t need me for that. Maybe you’ll do cool stuff this summer without me holding you back.”

“Yeah like learning to paddle board.”

It was kind of an inside joke between you two. You loved the water while Ava was not that big of a fan. Whenever you had an argument on holiday, you joked that you would leave her to go paddle board and the discussion would be forgotten after the laughter it pulled out of you both.

“Oh my god you totally should! See there’s lots of things to do.”

You were quiet after that. It was actually not a bad idea. This summer would be the perfect time to do all the water related things that Ava didn’t want to do. But then again, you didn’t know how fun it would be to do it by yourself.

A gasp pulled you out of your thoughts and it startled you so much that you almost fell of the sofa you were lying on.

“I just had the literal best idea ever! You should make a bucket list with all the cool things you’re going to do this summer. That way you won’t have any time to miss me.”

You thought about it. And then you quickly decided to disagree with her proposal.

“No thank you.”

“I could help you make it.” ~~

And by that she meant I could make it for you and you have no say in it whatsoever. After a lot of disagreeing and a quick argument, you figured you had to go along with it. You’d known Ava long enough to know that she wasn’t going to change her mind on this.

And so on that faithful Wednesday afternoon, Y/n’s summer bucket list was created.

Number 1. Go to the annual blacklight party

Number 2. Learn how to paddle board

Number 3. Wear the dress (you know the one)

Number 4. Karaoke in public

Number 5. Eat five different kinds of fish

Number 6. Go cliff jumping

Number 7. Volunteer somewhere

Number 8. Climb a tree

Number 9. Spend at least 100 dollars while shopping (treat yourself)

Number 10. Relearn how to play guitar

Number 11. Adopt a dog

Number 12. Find best friend the best souvenir ever ;)                                                

Number 13. Lay in a flower field for one hour (to feel like the main character)      

There was a lot that was wrong with the list. You had absolutely no desire to sing karaoke in public and adopting a dog seemed pretty unrealistic in such a short time frame. There was no way you could take it back to Calgary with you after summer and leaving it with your parents was no option.

To say the list was in the back of your mind was an understatement. It was the main focus of your thoughts the majority of the time. While it was meant to make your summer more fun, the stress that you were getting out of it was not worth it in the slightest.

The first week, you ignored the list completely. You still had a whole month to complete it and your main priority was family. Your parents had thrown you a welcome home party with all of your family that had left you in a state of happiness for a couple of days after and you had no desire to dull that feeling. Still, you couldn’t quite forget about it for some reason.

When you opened the document for the first time the beginning of the second week, you were still as unsure about it as you had been in the beginning. There were some things you were willing to start on but the majority of the items would still be left unticked.

You started practicing guitar that week, having found your old one in the garage. Slowly but surely you were getting the hang of it again and you were quite enjoying it even if it meant that you had to keep your nails short. What you didn’t miss was the way your fingers hurt every time you touched something after having played for a while. All in all, not as hard as you had imagined it to be and you were happy that you did it.

Number 10. Relearn how to play guitar ✓

--

The end of the second week of summer vacation came with the faithful blacklight party. The Kelowna annual blacklight party was probably the main event of the summer for anyone ages 17 to 27. It was an event you usually went to with Ava. You always had the most fun getting ready together. This year however, that was not in the cards and you had to get ready by yourself.

You had texted a couple of your high school friends to see if they wanted to meet you there. Some of them agreed and you set up a time and place to meet up. The fact that you wouldn’t be arriving solo calmed your nerves a little bit, but you hadn’t seen these people in three years and you had no idea how the vibes were going to be. Deciding that a little alcohol wouldn’t hurt you, you poured yourself a shot right before you had to leave.

You had to admit, you looked good. Not that you were trying to pull tonight but with the way you looked, you felt like you could.

Checking one last time to see if you had everything you need, you made your way to where you had agreed to meet up. While you walked, you took the time to breathe in the fresh air. Walking at night was not something you enjoyed doing in Calgary for obvious reasons. Here, you could see more of the stars and you were reminded of how much you liked just being under the night sky.

You arrived at your destination a couple of minutes later and were warmly greeted. Seeing these people again felt weird but also strangely familiar. You spend a big part of your life seeing them every day so you assumed it was only normal to feel like that.

You did one more shot before you made your way to the party. Excitement was creeping up through your nerves as you remembered how much you loved the annual blacklight party. It had always been the figurative start of the summer for you as the actual start of summer was spend at your desk dying from studying too much and sleeping too little.

You made a silent promise to yourself that you were going to enjoy yourself. Even if the company wasn’t necessarily who you’d prefer to have by your side, you were going to have fun dammit.

Arriving at the place, there was a lot more people than the year before. You almost immediately noticed how much more crowded it was.

Your friends didn’t seem to mind this as they promptly dragged you to the bar, not that you were complaining. After that you made your way to the pool to catch up. There were some people splashing around and a couple heavily making out but other than that, it was the least populated area. It gave you an opportunity to talk a little bit about what everyone had been up to since graduating.

You had to admit your attention wasn’t completely there -you blamed the shots- but you were genuinely interested in what they had to say. It was kind of sad that you’d been home for two weeks without texting them. Sure, there were some people from high school that you never wanted to see again but most of them were alright. Most of them were studying too and shared your pain there. You made a promise to at least hang out one other time while you were all still here for the summer.

After a while, your group started to disperse. Some people had disappeared some time ago to get more drinks but had never returned, others were planning on beer pong somewhere in the yard.

But you didn’t want to go play drinking games, you wanted to dance. So far, you had stayed outside and you felt like you had put on your favorite white dress for nothing. there were so many people inside that no one would notice you were alone and you wanted to take advantage of that. And so you said goodbye to your friends before you made your way to the dancefloor.

The air was noticeably thinner inside, most likely as a result of the young adults all dancing in an area way too small for comfort. Before actually joining them, you made a quick detour too the bar to get what you told yourself was your last drink of the night but even you weren’t sure if you actually believed that.

It was more difficult than you anticipated to get in between everyone. You could feel beer being spilled down your back and you cringed at the feeling of it running down. You make a mental note to put your shirt in the wash before you laid on your bed when you got home.

Once you got to an open spot – open was relative, you were still touching at least two other people – you started regretting your decision to go dancing alone. It seemed like everyone had someone else but you.

But it was too late now. You had fought hard for this spot and you weren’t giving it up. Dancing felt kind of uneasy at first but that soon got better as you noticed no one was paying attention to you.

You felt great. There was nothing in your mind apart from the lyrics to the song that was playing and you felt yourself relax. This was exactly what you needed to destress yourself.

Your arms were swaying all around you as you got lost in the music. When you opened your eyes again, you made eye contact with a guy a few feet away from you. Giving him a quick once-over, you concluded that he was pretty attractive. You gave him a look that invited him over to dance with you and waited for him to come over.

You didn’t need to wait long as the guy was enthusiastically making his way to you. Up close, you got to see more of his features but the one thing that stood out was his incredibly curly hair. it was bouncing along to every movement he made.

He introduced himself as Tyson and followed it up with an incredibly cheesy pick up line that you could only laugh at. He was very cute but you had no intention of this going somewhere. all you wanted at this moment was to dance.

Dancing with Tyson was fun because you invited him to dance with you. What you didn’t enjoy was the looks people were giving you as you were swaying your hips to the music. Especially this one guy that was not even trying to disguise the fact that he was looking at your ass.

Your body felt sticky and it got too hot all of a sudden. It seemed like Tyson could feel the shift in your mood. He observed you for a second only to conclude that you not having a good time anymore.

“Do you want to go outside for a second?”

You nodded in response. Making your way outside was a lot easier when you had Tyson pulling you behind him. He was taller and bigger than you and had no problem bumping into people to find a path. You kept your head down as to not attract anymore attention from creeps.

Once outside, you wasted no time taking a deep breath of fresh air. You didn’t notice it then, but there was barely any oxygen inside and it made you dizzy when you were walking out. It could’ve been the alcohol as well. Deciding to not take any chances, you plopped yourself down on the ground so you could lean your head against the wall.

You didn’t notice Tyson had left until he held a fresh bottle of water in front of your face. You thanked him quickly before taking the biggest sip of your life.

It was quiet for a while. Tyson had taken a seat next to you and you were currently trying to clean up your shoes to the best of your ability even though you knew that getting them clean again was impossible.

“So why are you at this party all by yourself?” Tyson spoke into the silence.

“Blame Ava, she left me here alone for a whole month. And then she’s forcing me to go to this party even though I really don’t like being on my own and she knows that. I have other friends but I lost them some time ago.” You were rambling. In a different circumstance, you would’ve held yourself back but you were tipsy and really needed to let your frustrations out. Complaining to a stranger at a party seemed a great idea for the time being.

“How is she forcing you if she’s not even here?”

“Because I promised her I’d do this stupid bucket list we made and I can’t break a promise. Even if she did leave me here.”

You leaned your head back against the wall in frustration. Why you had ever agreed to this, you had no idea. It seemed like fun at first but the reality of it soon caught up to you. You weren’t spontaneous or adventurous and you really fucking hated fish.

“What kind of bucket list?”

“How many kinds of bucket lists do you know?”

“A sex bucket list?”

“No!” Your answer came fast and a bit louder than you expected. Fortunately for you, the people around you were too caught up in drinking and dancing to pay attention to you.

“It’s more like a summer bucket list. I have a month to complete it. Well, technically 2 weeks now because I put it off too long.”

“Can I see the list?”

He looked at you with genuine curiosity. Deciding that you didn’t really have anything to lose, you reached for your phone in your back pocket and pulled up the list.

Tyson looked at it for a few minutes while you stared straight ahead. You could just say fuck it and not do it. But then Ava would be really disappointed in you. You knew she didn’t make it to annoy you, but more so to bring you out of your shell.

“Why is climbing a tree on here?”

“There’s this tree behind my house that I’ve always been too scared to climb because I fell out of it.”

“So you’ve not climbed a tree since that moment?” he said with a teasing smirk.

“It’s a childhood trauma leave me alone.”

Your tone was slightly snappy which caused Tyson to erupt into laughter. You knew it wasn’t serious but you still didn’t appreciate the fact that he was laughing at you. At nine years old, almost breaking your arm was a big deal and you felt justified in staying away from trees since that day.

“Have you ever been skinny dipping?”

“No?”

“I think you should put skinny dipping on the list. Ooh and quad bike driving, that’s always fun.”

“Excuse me who’s list is this?”

“It’s ours now, I’m helping you remember?”

“When have you ever said that?”

“It seems like fun. Besides you can’t go singing karaoke on your own, that’s just sad.”

As much as you tried to refuse his help, Tyson didn’t give up. For some reason unbeknownst to you, he really wanted in on the list. You could keep arguing with him or you could just agree. So that’s what you did. But only because you were 90% sure that Tyson would not remember your conversation in the morning.

After giving him your number you decided that you had enough of this party. While it had been fun, you drank a little too much and the only things that were going to make you feel better tomorrow were water and your bed.

Saying goodbye to Tyson was not as easy as you thought it would be. He only let you go after reminding you four times that he was going to call you the next day. Each time you just rolled your eyes and affirmed his statement, knowing full well that he wouldn’t. It would surprise you if he was out of bed by noon by the amount of drinks he had consumed.

Eventually, you did make it home and nothing could separate you from your bed. Even if your social battery had run out a couple hours ago, you were kind of glad you went to the party. The last thing you did before tapping out, was send Ava some pictures of your night as proof that you actually went.

Number 1. Go to the annual blacklight party ✓

 --

The next morning, you were woken up by your phone going off. You groaned at the noise and the headache it brought with it. You were angry with yourself for setting up an alarm after a night out  when you had nothing planned. Until you saw that it was not an alarm.

An unknown number was calling you and you groaned even harder at this. Why would someone, someone you didn’t know at that, ever call you. You barely ever used your phone, it’s primary use being social media. Anyone you spend any amount of time with would be able to tell you were the worst text responder ever.

Deciding you were not in the mood for talking, you hung up. The person would have to wait until after you found painkillers and some coffee.

Only you weren’t so lucky. Almost immediately after you hung up, your phone went off again. You got a bit worried when you saw it was the same number calling you. What if it was an emergency. You has no idea why anyone would put you as an emergency contact but you still picked up just in case.

“Hello?” was all you said. Your tone was laced with worry that you could hear even over the hoarseness. You should’ve went to look for water first.

“Oh you picked up, I almost thought you were ignoring me.”

It took you a minute to recognize the voice and when you did, you closed your eyes in annoyance. How the hell did Tyson sound so chipper when you felt like your throat was a desert. He’d had way more drinks than you had.

The groan you let out caused Tyson to start laughing just like he did last night. Somehow the sound of his laugh made your conversation come back to your mind.

“Tyson” you all but whined, “Can we just forget about it please? I’m really not in the mood for it today.”

“Will you be in the mood tomorrow?”

“I’ll be in the mood never.”

“Oh come on, it’s not even that bad. There’s no time like the present!”

The fact that he was so happy about this was a mystery to you. But then again, this would sound like a fun idea if half of the things on the list weren’t designed specifically to taunt you.

It wasn’t all bad. You’d been wanting to volunteer somewhere for the longest time, you just hadn’t found the time for it and you would love to adopt a dog. You could still remember you begging your parents for a dog every single day when you were young. They kept insisting that a pet didn’t fit in the family and thus you had abandoned that idea a long time ago. There was no way they were going to let you adopt one even now.

“Just let me make myself at least a little presentable and then I’ll be ready to go.”

All you got in return was a cheer too loud for your hungover self and it made you throw the phone on  your bed. The last thing you heard before you hung up was Tyson asking you to text him your address.

You were going to do that. After you had your coffee. Pulling yourself out of bed was way harder than it should have been. Normally you were pretty good with your alcohol but you assumed the month of sobriety while you were studying for your exams had something to do with it.

After thanking the heavens your parents weren’t home to witness you in this state, finding the nearest painkillers and quickly taking a shower, you were finally ready to face Tyson. You had a passing moment of stress while you thought about the fact you were going to send him your address. He was still a stranger after all. still, somehow you felt like you could trust him.

So you sent him your address accompanied by an invitation to your house in thirty minutes. If you thought you were lucky for your parents not being home to see your hangover, you just got a whole lot luckier now. If they saw you with a boy in the house, they were never going to let you hear the end of it.

True to his promise, Tyson arrived at your house exactly thirty minutes after you send him the text. You didn’t know if it was planned or if it was just a coincidence, but you were impressed.

“So where do you want to start?” he asked almost immediately when you arrived in the kitchen. You knew there was no need for small talk but you didn’t expect him to just go for it straight away.

“I was thinking we could do something easy first. You know, to get into it.”

“So tree then?”

“I told you that’s not easy.” You said it with a laugh and Tyson giggled right with you.

“You’re going to have to do it someday and we’re already at your house. I’m curious about this enormous tree that you have in your backyard.”

“The only reason I told you that story is because I was convinced you were too drunk to remember it in the morning. The fact that you do still remember is killing my vibe right now.”

You were surprised at how easy it was to go along with his teasing. From the first moment, you could already tell that Tyson was a very friendly person and it was plain to see that he could get anyone to talk to him. Still, you were known to be a little cold when you first met new people so the fact that you felt comfortable around him meant something.

“Nah I wasn’t drunk. I can handle my alcohol. Unlike you apparently.”

Your expression turned into one of fake offense at his words. He was right of course, but he didn’t need to say it.

“I let you into my house for what? To get bullied? You should know that I’m in reach of the cookbooks and I will not hesitate to hit you.”

“Okay Okay I’m sorry please don’t hit me.” He knew you weren’t being serious, the smile on his face was a good indication of that.

“Do you really want to do the tree today? I need to work up to that one.”

“So what do you suggest?”

You stayed quiet.

“Tree it is then.” he said, the smirk on his face noticeable even if you weren’t looking at him. You could tell by his voice that he was really enjoying this situation.

Without saying much else, you went to put on your shoes and moved in the direction of your backyard. The tree in question was situated in a field behind your house. Looking at it now, you wouldn’t say it was a particularly large tree, but there were still nerves bubbling inside of you.

Sighing loudly and a bit too dramatically to show Tyson that you really weren’t happy, you took a while to study the tree. There were a few low hanging branches that you could use to push yourself up on. The leaves at the top constructed your view.

“I just go for it?”

You were nervous. And your voice showed that. It was at that moment that Tyson realized you were legitimately scared.

“Do you want me to do it first? To test if the branches are safe?”

“No I think I want to do it now. I don’t need to know exactly how high this tree is.”

“Well good luck.”

And with that you were off. After giving your phone to Tyson to take a picture of you in the tree, you took your first cautious steps forward. Figuring the best way to do it was to not think about it too much, you placed your left foot on the lowest branch you could find.

Before long, you were already a third of the way to the top and it was alright. You felt your nerves turning into excitement. Wondering why you had been afraid all those years, you let your confidence take over and looked down at Tyson.

“Long how high I am.”

“Yes you are. Can you go a little farther so I can take a picture?”

Your newfound confidence allowed you to go even faster than before and you got to the top in record time. If people saw you right now, they’d believe you did this for a hobby.

When you got to the top, you quickly posed for a picture. Ava would not believe the smile on your face.

But then came the hard part. Getting down. It’s not that you were scared of heights, but you didn’t need to be reminded that there was about 4 meters of nothing between you and the ground. The confidence you had climbing up, dwindled slightly.

While you made your way back to the ground, albeit a lot slower, Tyson shouted words of encouragement at you. You could faintly hear them in the background but were to focused to make out any specific words.

You swore the moment your feet made contact with the ground was the best moment of your life and you let out a little shout of excitement to go along with your thoughts. That was your fault for putting this off for literal years.

“You did it!”

“I did it! Oh my god that’s crazy. I’m so proud of myself.”

Without thinking about it, you pulled Tyson into a hug. It didn’t last long as you separated from him to continue jumping around for a little bit. In the corner of your eye, you could see Tyson laughing at you but you didn’t have it in you to care.

“Look at all the energy you have, we could go cliff jumping right now.”

“Yeah no, I’ll need at least a day to calm down my heart rate enough to do anything else.”

You were ready to go inside again and take a nap. You felt like you had just ran a marathon and you didn’t know if it was because of the adrenaline or your hangover.

As you got inside the first thing you did was text Ava the picture Tyson had taken. Turns out, he took a whole collection of photos. There were at least 20 pictures all taken at different times and you got higher in the tree as the pictures progressed. At the end of the series, there was a video. You were slightly scared to open it as you had no idea what to expect.

The image was the same as the picture. It was just you climbing the tree. Only it was accompanied by Tyson speaking over it like he was presenting a nature documentary. The video was really blurry as he was all the way zoomed in on you and it ended with a shot of his own face filling up the camera.  

You burst out laughing at this. Tyson didn’t even need to see your phone to know what had caused your laughter and a smile took over his face.

“What is this Tyson.” Your words were barely intelligible as that were spoken in between breaths.

Tyson just shrugged in response. You decided to sent both a picture and the video to Ava. She wanted you to have fun and this video was proof that you had.

You waited for a little bit to see if she would respond and when she didn’t, you opened up the list again to see if there was anything else you could do.

Most of the items took a bit of planning to pull off and you were not in the mood to actually go out. This left number 13 as your only option.

“Are you allergic to grass Tyson?” you asked seemingly out of the blue.

Tyson was looking at his own phone and didn’t immediately register what you had asked him. He thought about it for a while and eventually shook his head no.

“Then how would you feel about lying in a field for an hour?”

“I’d rather go quad driving but I mean yeah let’s do it.”

You rolled your eyes at this. There was no way you were going to break your arms on a quad bike. Still Tyson didn’t let go of the idea. The whole way to the field was spend bickering about if you would of would not go quad driving and skinny dipping. His argument was that as it was now a joined list, he should have some say in the activities. You just questioned why he wanted to go skinny dipping so bad.

After a short walk, you did arrive at the field in question. You picked this one because if was filled with pretty flowers in seemingly every colour and would make for the best picture. A picture that you would be taking this time, not Tyson. You couldn’t say you enjoyed his photography skills as much as you enjoyed his company.

“Are you ready?” you asked Tyson.

Instead of answering you, he walked a little further into the field and lay down on his back. You decided to do the same thing only a little more graceful. While Tyson basically threw himself on the ground, you sat down first. Before you put your head down, you set your alarm to go off in exactly one hour.

After about 3 minutes of laying in the field in dead silence, you still didn’t really feel like a main character. You let out a deep sigh at alert Tyson that you were bored.

“Are we allowed to talk?”

You turned to face him.

“I think so yes.”

“Okay good because I don’t think I could lay here bored for an hour.”

“Same.”

And after that it was quiet again. It occurred to you that you hadn’t really talked to Tyson. You had no idea how to strike up a conversation. Every time you guys had talked, there had always been a reason, but now laying in the field you would have to fill the silence with small talk and that was not your forte.

Instead you busied yourself with watching Tyson. He was more attractive now then he was under the lights at the party but he still had his curly hair.

“Are you going to cut your hair?” it was the only thing you could come up with that wasn’t hey how has your summer been so far?

“Are you saying I should?”

He said it in a teasing way and you were glad he didn’t take it the wrong way. Looking back, it definitely couldn’t been taken as an insult.

“No. I like it. it’s just something.”

“Wow that doesn’t sound good at all.”

“No stop I didn’t mean it like that, I actually like it.”

But it was too late. Tyson was already laughing too hard to hear what you just said. You wanted to reach out and run your fingers through his curls but decided that that would be really weird so you kept your hands to your sides and just laughed along with him.

When you’d both calmed down, silence overcame you again. This time though, it wasn’t uncomfortable. You didn’t feel the pressure of trying to fill a void like you did the fist time.

“We should talk about our schedule for the list.”

It was a good idea. You had another 12 days to complete all of it and that didn’t leave you much room to rest. Tyson told you he had to go to the gym basically every morning and laughed once again at your shocked expression. I’ll show you my muscles when we go swimming don’t worry. Though it was clearly meant as a joke, his statement still made you blush.

You decided that you would take the next day off to just relax and would move on from there. You also agreed to volunteer at the local animal adoption centre where you would take a look at the dogs. Even if actually adopting one would most likely out of the question.

After that, the conversation moved beyond the list. You learned that Tyson lived in Denver and was just here for a couple of weeks with his friends. Friends who apparently were very excited to meet you after learning that you met at the party.

You didn’t know if you were flattered or scared that they already knew who you were but you didn’t give it much thought figuring that you would meet them eventually.

You were just about to ask another question when Tyson gasped beside you. thinking there was a bug or something you whipped your head to the side only to find Tyson looking at the sky in wonder.

“You scared me.”

“Dude look! It’s a bird.”

“Birds fly in the sky?”

“No dummy, it a cloud in the shape of a bird.”

You whispered a rude under your breath before turning to look in the direction he was pointing. Right above you was indeed a fluffy bird cloud.

“There’s a heart next to it.”

“Oh, I didn’t see that before. That’s cute.”

You went back and forth like that for a while. The shapes were slowly becoming less and less recognizable. As time went on Tyson was just shouting every word that came into his head while you were dying laughing next to him.

You were laughing so hard that you almost didn’t hear your alarm going off. But you did. And it brought you back to reality.

“That was an hour?” Tyson asked.

“Yeah it seemed way less.”

“Well I don’t know about you but I definitely feel like a main character.”

“You already were a main character you dork, you play sports professionally.”

“I thank you.”

He held out his hands for you to take and pulled you up without much effort. Walking back to your house was filled with more jokes and Tyson acting ridiculous. You kind of wished you picked a spot further from your house so you could spend more time with him but you knew that you still had two weeks with him.

As you approached your house you didn’t really know what to say anymore. You had no idea how you should go about saying goodbye, not knowing if he was a hugger or not.

It seemed like Tyson had the same problem. You were just standing across each other in your driveway without saying anything. Figuring you needed to at least say something before you let him walk away, you took a breath and began.

“Tyson?”

He lifted up his head to look up at you with questioning eyes, not saying anything to give you the room to speak.

“Um thank you, for helping me. I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed spending time in a field by myself so thanks.”

“It’s no problem really, I enjoyed today.”

The way he said it, you could tell that he really meant it and it made you happy. Even though he invited himself into your little adventure, you still wanted him to have a good time.

As you said goodbye to Tyson one last time and went back inside, the ping of your phone caught your attention. Your screen lit up with a text from Ava.

Getting a hot boyfriend was not on the bucket list ma’am ;)

Number 8. Climb a tree ✓

Number 13. Lay in a flower field for one hour (to feel like the main character) ✓

[n0wornever]

Christmas Tree Farm - Julie Molina x Reader

Festive tings with my favorite girl. (was totally inspired by @calamitykaty‘s most recent Christmas piece for this one! 

“Julie, you’re going to want to bundle up more than that!” Y/N said as she wrapped her plush white scarf around her neck again. 

She looked over at her girlfriend, standing in the doorway with her lightweight jacket laying open over her dark green turtleneck. Julie fidgeted with the coat sleeves as she scrunched her face in confusion. Y/N simply rolled her eyes at the girl, leaning back and opening the wicker picnic basket beneath their shoe rack. 

Julie watched carefully as the girl dug through the colorful fabrics. Finally, she pulled out a set of white gloves and a matching hat, holding them up in the air. Her girlfriend hesitated before stepping forward and grabbing them from her hands. As Y/N rose to meet her gaze, she frowned. Julie was still holding the garments in her hand.

“Baby, you’re in the midwest in the middle of December,” She said, scooping up a green scarf from the coat hanger to her right.

She stepped toward the girl, circling the soft material around Julie’s neck a few times before letting her hands rest on her shoulders. Her girlfriend’s cheeks began to blossom, and Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at the quick reaction she received. She let her hands slide down to the scarf again, pulling the curly-haired girl closer to her. She leaned in and pressed her lips to Julie’s with a smile. As they pulled back, she was sure the temperature had risen for her too.

As she stepped back, Julie held up the gloves to her girlfriend’s face, waving them back and forth. 

“Babe, do you really think I’ll need all of this?” She whined, lip pouting on command. 

Y/N shook her head as she laughed at her persistence. When she checked the weather this morning, she noted the high of 32 and the possibility of snow on the horizon in the evening. It was due almost to the exact minute that they were supposed to arrive at the Christmas Palace. She simply nodded, mimicking her full lips back to her as she placed her own onto her hands.

“Yes, you are going to thank me for it in like an hour,” Y/N checked her watch to make sure they were still on schedule to meet her grandfather. 

Her pop’s Christmas tree farm was right outside of the city limits. The place had been in her family’s life for decades and although she’d been there hundreds of times, their visits never bored Y/N. That was because there was a secret after event that he put on just for those closest to him.

If you squinted in between the trees and around the log cabin in the daylight, you’d see rows and rows of string lights. There were also several animated characters in wrapped around wires that sat in different areas of the snow going almost entirely unnoticed. However, every night after he had closed to the general public for the evening, these items would come alive in a light show that he held for friends and family who came to visit.

Y/N remembered the first time he’d let her help flip the switch. She had to have been no older than 6, and had to be hoisted up into his arms to reach the cover plate, pushing it forward. He always told her that he’d never forget what happened next. She had gazed upon the yards and yards of perfectly powdered trees and her eyes widened in excitement. Grandpa always said he kept that smile in the locket he wore around his neck.

Y/N played with the gold chain resting at the nape of her neck for a moment as Julie finished getting ready. Her eyes were fixed on the stairs, tearing at her lower lip as she drifted back to the flashes of green and red lining Forester Road. She sweet smell of pine leaves lining her jacket for afternoons after her visit. The warm cocoa she practically spilled all over herself in the car as her mom drove down that rugged gravel road. 

She was only pulled back by a grip on her waist. She turned to the right and found her smiling girl staring straight at her with a toothy grin.

“Are you ready baby?” Julie asked, gripping at the girl’s red peacoat. 

Y/N nodded, bringing her lips back down to meet hers. As they pulled away, Julie’s thumb rose to brush against her lips, her wide grin still splashed across her cheeks.

“I left a little red on your lips,” She muttered as she brushed against the skin. 

After she’d erased the stain of her lips, Julie pulled back with her hand outstretched. Y/N clasped onto it as she followed her out the door. As they reached her mother’s car, Y/N released her hand from Julie’s, sending it up to Julie’s hat as she pulled it below the girl’s ears. She could hear her girlfriend’s giggles as she tugged it left to right until it pleased her. 

Finally satisfied, Y/N ran over to the drivers side. Her hand met a pile of snow pooling at the handle. She dusted the majority off with her hand before she pulled it toward her and crawled inside. She put the key in the ignition, alerting the Christmas station she’d preselected the night before. As she turned to back up, her eyes fell on Julie. The small girl held her hands up against the heater, eyes narrowed at her pink fingertips. 

“I told you,” Y/N said with a giggle.

Julie met her eyes with a frown before turning back to her hands. Y/N placed her hand behind the girl’s seat and pulled out of the driveway. As sleigh bells rang softly in the background, Y/N hummed along to the carol. She could feel Julie’s eyes on her, and she knew she should be talking. However Y/N was doing her best to ignore her sweating palms underneath her steering wheel. 

She had no idea why she was so nervous for Julie to meet pops. He literally loved everyone he ever met. he was the first person to ask her when he’d meet a significant other after she came out, asking her to bring her out to the farm as soon as she could. However, now that her beautiful girlfriend sat next to her, ready to fulfill that promise, she wasn’t so sure. Her grip on the steering wheel sent a throbbing sensation to her palms, it brought her attention to something. 

“So,” Julie said, finally breaking the silence. 

Her hand moved to the radio volume dial, turning Oh Holy Night down to an inaudible level. Y/N straightened her neck, letting it fall side to side as she waited for her to continue.

“What should I expect? You’ve barely told me anything about this place.”

Julie was right, she hadn’t said anything about her Pop’s farm because that was the best way for her to experience it. She wanted her to have that authentic first reaction that she and many others have over the years. More importantly, Y/N wanted to capture the way her eyes lit up as she asked her grandpa to let the girl flip the switch. 

“Jules, honey, I told you that I can’t spoil it.” 

She her her groan, rotating the dial back up and letting the choral voices take over the conversation. She tried not to laugh as her eyes darted toward the girl’s for a second, taking in her snarl as she looked at the snowy trees surrounding them. 

Y/N’s eyes fell on the small green sign at the end of the road. It had a small, very worn, picture of Santa on it with the words “Kindling Tree Farm” etched across it in red cursive writing. Y/n flipped on her turn signal at the light, turning onto the gravel road. A smirk rose onto her face again as she watched Julie clutch onto the car handle as she car shifted back and forth. 

They finally came to a smoother pasture as they entered the park. She looked out the window and saw her a familiar smile on the front porch of the cabin. Her grandfather waved at her and she returned the greeting, then pulling into a parking space. As she shifted into park and unbuckled her seatbelt, she turned to her girlfriend one more time. 

“He’s a little stoic, but I promise he means well.” Y/N warned her.

Julie bit down on her bottom lip. Y/N noted the quickness of her chest as it rose and fell and reached out for her hand. Julie met her eyes again, a soft smile laid on her right cheek.

“He’s going to love you, I. swear.” 

Julie nodded at the girl, squeezing onto her hand before letting go. The two girls hopped out of the car, and Julie walked through the light snow over to Y/N’s side. The girl’s hand tingled as she let herself grip her girlfriend’s hand, pulling her toward the wooden porch. Y/N locked eyes with her grandfather, the older man’s hand on his locket, fidgeting with it as he watched them walk toward him.

As they reached the landing, Y/N took a deep breath. She plastered a smile across her face as she let go of Julie’s hand and reached to wrap her arms around the tall man in front of her. His beard hit her in the face, causing her to giggle into the embrace. As they pulled back, Julie intertwined their hands again quickly.

“Pops, this is Julie,” Y/N said, shaking their entangled hands a bit to catch Julie’s attention. 

The man was quiet for a moment, studying Julie with narrow eyes. After a breath of quiet, Julie reached forward first with her hand outstretched. Y/N couldn’t help but melt as she listened to the shakiness in her girlfriend’s voice.

“So nice to finally meet you sir,” She said with as much confidence as she could muster. 

Y/N’s eyes fell to her grandfather, who inched toward the girl slowly. His stern expression melted into a soft smile as her shook her hand. Y/N finally let out the breath that waited for her as the exchange ended. Her grandfather pointed back toward the door, meeting his granddaughter’s eyes.

“Are you all thirsty? I just made some cocoa.”

The girl nodded, not even checking with her partner to her right. The two followed him into cabin. Warmth hit them from the moment they entered the candlelit home, the smell of milk chocolate hanging in the air of the kitchen. Y/N led Julie to the table in front of them, letting go of her to pull out her chair. Once the two were sitting, Y/N finally met her girlfriend’s eyes.

“Are you okay?” She asked as she took off her gloves, placing them next to her on the corner of the table. 

“Yeah,” Julie said with a small smile.

Y/N reached over to clasp both of her hands around Julie’s. The two looked at each other for a moment, only interrupted by the whistle of the kettle on the stove. Their eyes migrated toward the sound, finding her grandfather the the burner, pouring the steaming liquid into horribly themed mugs. Y/N’s smile grew as she watched him put one, two, three marshmallows on top of the drink...like he always did.

The man turned to her with two finished products in his hands. Y/N reached forward and grabbed them both from him, nodding before she turned back to the table. She looked back and forth from the Grinch shaped glass to the Santa shaped glass, debating between the two. She heard Julie chuckle and met her eyes for a moment. 

“For that, you get the Grinch cup,” She said, sticking out her tongue at the girl.

Julie rolled her eyes, gripping the mug with both hands. Y/N watched as the girl closed her eyes, taking a whiff of the silky chocolate smell before letting them flutter open. Y/N did the same before letting her lips touch the warm surface, tipping the drink back to her throat. It tasted slightly like peppermint and her eyes fell back behind her.

“Did you sneak the candy canes in here again?” She asked the man as he finished creating his own drink. 

He looked over his shoulder at her, pressing one finger to his lips to quiet her questioning. She shook her head before leaning back over the table. She rolled her eyes at Julie.

“He totally did.” 

The man finally joined them at the table and the three sipped on their cups quietly. Y/N’s gaze wandered back to Julie’s to find her eyes fixated on her grandfather’s neck. He noticed the curly-haired girl staring as well and cupped the locket in his hand. 

“Did Y/N tell you about this?” 

Julie shook her head as she brought her cup back to her lips. Y/N watched as her grandfather’s smile widened as he slipped it off his neck. He let the gold-plated item sit on the table, unclasping the lock. As it opened, he pushed it toward Julie. 

Y/N watched as her girlfriend reached out, only touching the outside with her fingertips lightly as she brought it closer to her. She leaned over to look at the contents too. In front of both of them sat a photo of a beaming young girl pointing in front of her and an older man smiling as he held her in his arms. Julie looked back up to him as she pointed at it.

“Is this Y/N?” 

He nodded, taking a quick sip before responding. 

“Yes, it is,” He said, tipping his glass toward Julie. “That was the biggest smile I’ve ever seen from this one. I knew the moment I saw her eyes meet the lights, that I had to have that picture of her in another place outside of my mind. Luckily, her mom thought so too and snapped the photo just in time.” 

Julie smiled softly as she brushed the yellowing photo with her fingertip. That smile was replaced by furrowed brows as she looked up and tilted her head as she held the man’s gaze. Y/N watched the interaction in anticipation, eyes darting from one of them to the other. 

“Lights?”

Her grandfather’s gaze fell to hers with raised eyebrows. Y/N tried to hid her rosy cheeks as she shrugged at him.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

His shoulders shook in a short giggle before he turned to the window. The sun had finally fully set, and the night sky had taken over the park. He turned back to Y/N with a grin, nodding toward the door with his head.

“Want to show her now? I think it’s dark enough.” 

Y/N looked over to her girlfriend who sat waiting with parted lips and an eyebrow cocked up at her. She turned back to the man at the head of the table and nodded, setting down her glass. 

“Come on baby,” She whispered, taking the girl’s hand as they both stood to their feet. 

Julie trailed behind Y/N as her grandfather led them back to the porch. Y/N swung Julie around to the other side of her,  placing the girl between her and her grandfather. Her girlfriend gave her a questioning look, but she averted the pressing gaze as she moved right over to her grandfather’s. Y/N nodded toward Julie and he shot her a wink. He cleared his throat before addressing her. 

“Julie, there’s a switch behind you. Could you flip it on for me?” 

The girl nodded slowly, turning around. Her hand fell against the switch, lifting it up with her ring finger. 

Y/N felt a smile already spreading across her face as Julie glanced at the lights from the corner of her eye. As the girl fully turned around, her eyes widened at the scene in front of her. Strings and strings of festive lights hung throughout the rows of trees. A small toy train made its way around the front of the porch, Julie’s eyes following its movements as it sang to the snow around it. Y/N watched as her eyes wandered to the sea of waving elves and smiling Santa figurines that were spread around the freshly fallen snow. 

Y/N squeezed lightly onto her hand as she watched Julie’ eyes crinkle with her widening smile. She used her free hand to grab her phone out of her pocket, flipping on the camera. She held the screen up to Julie’s side profile, angling it a bit to get a few of the lights in frame too. She snapped a few photos before the girl caught on and smiled directly at her. 

As she slid her device back into her jeans, she looked over at her grandfather. He made his way over to her other side, walking across the porch. Both of their eyes fell to the girl holding Y/N’s hand, who watched the scene in front of her with glossy eyes and rosy cheeks. As Y/N felt a smile pull at her cheeks once again, he leaned in to whisper in her ear. 

“Do you have a locket ready?” 

.

.

.

.

Tag list: @marinettepotterandplagg @lukeys-giggle  @xplrreylo @kiss-themoongoodbye @bathtimejish  @bookfrog247  @dasexydevitt13 @musicconversedance @txrii @bestdressedandstressed @daisiesforlacey @epikskool  @themaddies-obx @jukeobsessedgirl  @writerinlearning @dani27297 @whatever-happens-imma-stand-tall @sovereignparker​ @kinda-really-lost​ 

[eddiemunsonssoulmate]

Can you save me from this nothing I've become?

Pairing: Kook!JJ x Pogue!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: Life Swap AU. JJ grew up as a sheltered boy in a golden cage in Figure Eight and doesn’t even have a clue how life in the Cut is like. That is until he meets you, the perfect example for life in an abusive household drowning in poverty. 

Warnings: A little bit of sadness, mentions of abuse, mostly fluffy tho

Available on: AO3

A/N: @outabanks​ asked me to write this for her so I tried. It’s a little different from anything else I’ve written so far and it was quite hard to find a tone for JJ now that he didn’t grow up in a physical abusive home and probably wouldn’t react with so much violence. I went with him feeling trapped, lonely and just sad inside due to him more suffering from emotional abuse. Also, switching POVs! Have fun!

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“Yes, Charlotte, I make sure to pick out my best outfit.” JJ groaned at his stepmother and went to his own bathroom to take a shower.

She was really annoying sometimes but after his mother and father divorced, he had been quick to replace her to maintain the image, dragging his mother’s name through mud in the process.

Figure Eight was a place where you grew up comfortably and never had to worry about a thing, at least on the outside.

JJ had grown up as the typical rich kid, getting everything he wanted. Problem was, he had been showered with money, not love, meaning he was missing what was most important. Back when his mother was still here, she had been the only person to show him what life really meant but she hadn’t been around for too long. Actually, he never got to know why she had left.

When Charlotte had married his father, it got even worse. Money here, fancy clothes there. She had never been a mother to him, she also never even tried as she wasn’t interested in him and only the money his dad had.

Whatever, he didn’t care about her either, he just wished she would leave him in peace once in a while but whenever he planned to go outside and do something she always came running and told him how to dress so he would look the best.

Tomorrow was another charity event and she had been stressing about the right clothes for weeks and he wouldn’t have any of it.

JJ got out of the shower with a sigh, towel around his waist and hair still dripping a little on the floor beneath him. He knew he had a good life, technically but sometimes he wondered how it felt to be a normal kid, growing up downtown or the Cut. He had never been down there actually, only heard that people from the Cut were poor but in comparison to the people from Figure Eight, poor couldn’t be too bad, right?

The reason he had never been down there was his father. He might look like the perfect father on the outside but on the inside, he was rotting away, fueled by his addiction for money and a wealthy lifestyle. One wrong step and JJ would suffer, in either emotional and very rarely physical way.

He was trapped in a golden cage he couldn’t escape until he was old enough which would still take a few more years. He just had to hold on, pretend to like his life when they were in public and just be done with it.

“We’re off then, son. See you tomorrow!” his father yelled from downstairs as JJ got dressed in some loser clothes so he could enjoy his time home alone.

“Yeah, have fun,” he said nonchalantly, not really caring about them leaving to visit the Cameron’s to talk about some preparations for tomorrow.

When he heard the front door shut he let out a sigh of relief and lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. They wouldn’t be back until past midnight, that’s always how it went.

It was the perfect time to think about how lonely he actually was. His parents divorced, his mother not even calling or writing him, his dad only caring about money and his new wife. Friends? Sadly none. Kook Academy wasn’t the place where he wanted to be and he had a hard time blending in. It was a place where everyone was so narcissistic and wanted to show off all they had. Also really competitive people. Who had the bigger car, who had the more expensive outfit, things like that.

The only person he rarely talked to at events was Kiara, a wealthy girl from the neighborhood next to his own. He heard that she was hanging around with the Pogues in the Cut but he never asked her about it. They mostly just saw each other, nodded briefly and started drinking together. He listened to her rambling about saving turtles in a drunken state later on while he made flirty comments she always shut down very quickly. It was a simple way to pass the time while trying to get through the evening.

His father told him to befriend the Cameron’s but to be honest? No. Wheezie was just a little girl, Sarah was the princess around here and he had no desire to walk around with royalty and get judged by only that. Rafe was a dick, he had actually tried to befriend him when they were younger but that boy had massive issues.

So yep, loneliness it was. On the outside, his life was perfect but on the inside he was struggling. One day he would escape, go to the mainland and do his own thing. He wanted to get far away from Outer Banks and his father, all these riches he had. There was enough money on his own bank account to help him get started but JJ wanted to work with his own hands, get dirty, live the life he wanted.

Suddenly he heard a crash in the front yard and he shot up from his bed, opening the door to his balcony and looked outside, trying to see something in the darkness. It took a moment for his eyes to get used to the missing light before he scanned the garden. A vase was shattered to the left and to the right…

Shit!

Someone was face down in their pool and it looked like they weren’t moving.

JJ rushed downstairs and to the garden, quickly jumping in to get the person out. He put the body down next to the pool, slapping the cheek slightly. Luckily enough he had been quick enough and the person was waking up, spitting out a little bit of water.

“I don't think it’s the best time to take a swim,” he said while he sat there on his knees, looking over at the girl that couldn’t be older than he was.

She wasn’t answering, just looking at him for a moment before closing her eyes again, passing out once more.

    When you woke up, you had no idea where you were. The bed under you felt softer than your own and you had a huge headache. Also, you were wearing comfortable clothes for some reason. Still a dream? Maybe.

You slowly opened your eyes, afraid that feeling of warmth would be gone now but it didn’t vanish. As you were looking around you noticed a boy on the ground, wrapped in a blanket and you blinked. 

Looking down at your body told you that you were totally not wearing your own clothes. These were really fine and soft, it almost felt like they were giving you a warm hug.

It took awhile for you to connect the dots but then your face turned white. The boy on the ground had seen you naked.

“Perv!” you suddenly yelled and threw the pillow behind you at him which caused him to stir.

“What the fuck,” he mumbled and got up and for the first time, you got a good look at these blue eyes and the messy, blonde bed hair. “This is what I get for saving your ass?”

Saving your ass? You frowned and now that you thought about it, you had no idea what had happened last night after you ran away from home. You knew you had been drinking to try and stop the pain but then it all went black.

“What do you mean?” you asked and tilted your head a little to the side like a lost puppy.

“Apparently you were either really fond of having a swim or trying to drown yourself in my pool,” he said while he got up, stretching and showing off his body to you. Of course he was not wearing a shirt, why would he. It was too hot for that anyway. He was too hot. Shit, focus!

“I wasn’t drowning myself,” you said even though you wished that had worked.

Silence fell over you for a moment while he just stood there, looking at your miserable form before he rubbed the back of his neck and looked clearly uncomfortable.

“Look, I’ve seen the bruises…,” he started and you looked back at him, clenching your jaw. Of course he had seen the bruises, he had seen you naked and they were quite visible all over your body.

“It’s nothing. Where are my clothes? I want to leave.” You didn’t want to stay here and talk to a stranger that apparently saved you from drowning. Oh. That was probably why you were wearing different clothes, he had taken care of them so you wouldn’t get a cold. Well, not exactly the first thought you had but thank god you still had your virginity.

“Do you need help?” he asked softly and crouched in front the bed which caused you to frown. No one had ever asked you that. It took a long moment before you shook your head.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You nodded and got out of bed which made him stand up again. He was taller than you were and you bit your bottom lip while looking around in his room some more. This was clearly not the Cut. This looked like a Figure Eight house. Oh god, had you wandered that far?

“Can I make you breakfast at least? My parents are still asleep,” he said and you chewed on your lip a little before you nodded. Your stomach was dying inside as you hadn't eaten in two days because your aunt prefered to let you starve while she spent all her money on alcohol and drugs. You wished your parents were still alive but that wasn’t an option.

“Alright, wait here, I’ll bring you some up.” With that he was already gone and you went back under the soft blanket. If you would stand up more your head was probably going to explode and you would fall due to it’s spinning non stop. Laying down was good. Sitting upright a little was good too.

You had never seen this boy before which wasn’t a surprise given that you had been to Figure Eight only one or two times with Kiara. The Pogues were the only reason to get out of bed in the morning but currently, they were all doing their own thing which was fine but also made you sad a little.

The blonde boy was up quicker than you thought and he put the tray down on your legs with a smile.

“I’m JJ, by the way,” he said as he grabbed the chair from his desk and rolled it over, taking one of the plates from the try to put some food on it.

You blinked at all the food in front of you and you were sure you hadn’t seen that many at once, at least not something you were allowed to eat. Bread buns, scrambled egg, different kinds of sausages and grapes. He must have noticed how skinny you were.

“I’m (y/n),” you simply said while staring at the food, not even sure if you could eat but when you looked at him eating and he smiled at you, you couldn’t stop yourself.

It was a feast for you. Did he always have breakfasts like that? God, what a lucky person.

“Nice to meet you, (y/n). Wanna tell me now why you were swimming in my pool at midnight?” he asked and grinned a little. He wanted to get details but he didn’t want to completely ruin the mood, something you could appreciate.

You didn’t know him and you weren’t easily trusting a person but he saved you, made you breakfast and you would probably never see him again, so you kinda owed him, right? Also he had already seen the bruises and given all the books he had in his room, he seemed to be a smart boy that had figured it all out on his own already.

“I was trying to get away from life,” you mumbled with your mouth full and he raised an eyebrow at that. “Got beat up, didn’t eat for two days, ran away to drink the pain away and then it went all black but it seems like I wanted to get a look at a life I’ll never have and then I somehow ended up in your pool. I wasn’t trying to drown myself, I promise.”

Well, the mood he had been trying to maintain was totally ruined by your words now. You spoke them so casually like they were no big deal but you saw how his eyes widened and he stopped eating while you still continued. Yes, your life was pure shit but it would be okay one day. One day you’d get out of your aunt’s death grip and get the life you deserved.

“I-,” he started but didn’t seem to be able to finish so you waved off. 

“It’s fine. It happens. Something you can’t understand, no offense.” He was living a good life full of privileges and riches, of course he wouldn’t understand what you went through and that was okay. You didn’t want his pity, he didn’t seem to care about people at the Cut anyway. 

“I might not understand your life but you obviously don’t understand my life either,” he chuckled and took some grapes to eat. You raised both eyebrows at him, what did he mean? Apparently he could read the face you were making and continued. “Life here isn’t all that great either. I may not suffer from a lot of physical abuse but emotional one. Being rich isn’t always good, ya know.”

“I’d kill for being rich,” you blurted out and it made him laugh. He had a beautiful laugh but it also sounded really sad for some reason.

“Yeah, that’s probably how a lot of people here became rich.” That made you laugh too, he was probably right. You knew a few Kooks that looked like they had killed for their wealth.

You both ate in silence and when you were done, he put the tray away to look at you with a look that you couldn’t quite place.

“Where are my clothes?” you asked to break the stare and he nodded.

“I’ll get them, one second,” he said and walked over into a room which was...his bathroom? God, he even had his own bathroom. What the fuck.

JJ came out with them again and they looked so much cleaner than before. “Did you wash them?” you asked because it didn’t look like it was just the pool water.

“Yeah, they looked like they needed it,” he said and put them over the bed. When you grabbed them you felt how soft they were now after the cleaning and you smiled a little to yourself. They also smelled really good.

You got out of the bed and pressed past him into the bathroom so you could get changed. When you came out of it again you felt old and new at the same time. Thankfully, the headache was slowly fading away.

“Alright, thanks for saving me, I’ll be off then,” you exclaimed as you had occupied him enough now. He already knew more about you than a stranger should and you had to get out of here before he tried to play your savior.

You had already a hand at the doorknob when he reached out to you, grabbing your arm to stop you from leaving. Of course he had to do that.

“I know this isn’t any of my business but if you ever need help, come here, okay? I’ll try my best,” he said and normally you would huff at such an offer as you had been disappointed so many times in your life but for some reason, he sounded so absolutely genuine that you nodded. You believed him but you also had no desire to get back here any time soon. Figure Eight wasn’t the place you wanted to be, it only reminded you of what could have been but wasn’t.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he let go of you.

    Two weeks had passed and he couldn’t get the girl out of his head. There had been something that made him want to save her even though she seemed to be the kind of girl that didn’t want saving. 

Something deep inside of him was screaming at him to find you and that’s exactly what he did right now. His father would kill him but he didn’t care anymore. It was like there was a strange bond that was pulling him closer to you and away from the life he didn’t want.

The Cut was different than he had expected. During his sheltered life, downtown had been the only area he had visited, it was almost like an invisible wall that his father had placed here, not allowing him to go any further. As a kid he had been curious about it but after a while of useless attempts to convince his father he had given up on getting to know the rest of the island.

He couldn’t say why he didn’t try again now that he was older. Maybe he really wasn’t interested anymore after all those years. Maybe it was his father’s voice that was echoing in his head the closer he got to that invisible wall.

Until he broke through it. He drove past that magical line that had kept him and suddenly he saw what was really going on. They weren’t just a little less fortunate than the people from Figure Eight. His dad had lied to him and he felt sick for a moment.

He drove past small shacks, some looking like they would get blown away by the next storm. They were just poor and lived in poverty. Well, maybe not all of them but the further he drove away from the downtown area the more sad and wild it looked around him. There was also a strange feeling of freedom to it, he couldn’t really describe it.

Figure Eight was all beautiful houses and big mansions, perfectly cut grass, cars and pools. Everything had to be perfect but this? Lots of people didn’t care about their grass, he saw some old cars and trucks, some people had a small boat but nothing compared to the yacht his father owned. It was so different and he hated himself for never coming here. When did he become such an ignorant person?

Something suddenly jumped out of the bushes to the right and he hit the breaks, barely stopping in front of the person who was standing right in front of his car, looking straight at him.

“What the fuck?!” the girl yelled and he would always recognize that voice, it had almost burned into his soul. She was so different from everything he knew. Looks like the string that was pulling him had reached its destination.

    Great, now some idiot tried to run you over while you were busy running away from Barry. This couldn’t get any worse. You were about to keep running when you saw who got out of the car. It was the blonde pretty boy with the sad eyes from Figure Eight that you kept dreaming about for the last two weeks. A wink of destiny? Either way, it looked like he was your escape.

JJ got out of the car and smiled at you, slowly coming over to you, probably wanting to make sure you were okay but he barely scraped you. 

“JJ?” you asked in disbelief and he chuckled a little. It was weird to see him here, out of place, so far away from home.

“If I wouldn’t know any better I’d say you tried to get him by a car this time,” he said and laughed when he saw you glare. You really didn’t have time for this bullshit. Yes, being dead would be better sometimes given your circumstances but right now you’d prefer to prevent that.

You threw a look behind you and then back at him. “In the car,” you hissed and shoved him back to his side of the car while you got in on the other side.

“Drive,” you said and looked out to the right side where you had been coming from but he looked at you confused.

Barry came out of the bushes and you turned around to JJ in a split second, pressing your lips against his, hoping to make Barry think that it was just a rich couple that came down here to make out. He wasn’t the brightest candle on the cake after all.

When you saw him leave out of the corner of your eye you sighed into the kiss but only slowly moved away. JJ’s lips felt good, pressed against yours like it was the only thing he had ever wanted.

Reality hit and you pulled back, swallowing slightly. “Sorry uhm...just needed to distract that guy,” you mumbled and licked your lips, still tasting him.

“What was that about?” he asked and seemed a little dumbfounded by the sudden kiss.

“I was running from our local drug dealer,” you explained like it was the most normal thing to do. Maybe you had stolen him some money but you only wanted food and you knew where he stored it so you might as well just borrow it. For a very long time.

“You could have just hidden on the backseat, you know,” he teased and wiggled his eyebrows which caused you to slap him slightly against the shoulder.

“It was a distraction kiss, nothing else. Don’t let it get to your head,” you said ang took a deep breath when you felt your body relax.

“What now? Any place I can drive you to?” he suddenly asked and you looked over at him, thinking for a moment. You’d be safe with John B and the others as you wanted to meet up later anyway. You nodded and gave him some quick directions.

“So, what are you doing here?” you asked and watched him drive. He had such a pretty face if those eyes wouldn’t be so sad. You wondered why he was like that, he had everything you could wish for and yet, he was still so sad.

“Actually, I was looking for you. I also had never been down to the Cut, my father always keeping me from it so I wanted to take a look.” His voice was so smooth and you had the urge to just press your lips against his once more.

What the fuck was going on in your head? God, that needed to stop, he was a Kook after all. No good came from them.

“Why were you looking for me?” It was beyond you why he would come here only to find you. You were just some girl he had saved from her own stupidity. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny that you hoped to see him again shortly after you had left his place back then. There had been something about him that was pulling you closer and those dreams you had weren’t for nothing. He was special in a way you couldn’t describe just yet.

“I don’t know, to be honest. I just had the feeling I had to,” he said and it confirmed your feelings. He also didn’t really know what he was doing here, just like you didn’t know why you wanted him here.

It was a strange connection that had formed within a couple of hours two weeks ago, a connection that didn’t break. Normally people meet other people, establish some kind of relationship between them. Acquaintances, friends, work colleagues, stuff like that. Sometimes you just meet a stranger, talk to them and then break the connection off.

That’s what you thought this would be but the connection was still there, it was deep in your bones and your mind.

Stupid Kook, about to turn your world around.

You arrived at the Chateau where John B was already coming over before JJ could turn the motor off. He obviously wasn’t used to such cars arriving at his place, that’s why you got out first.

“It’s me!” you yelled and JB visibly relaxed before taking another look at the car and the boy coming out of there.

“Who’s that?” he asked and frowned at you but you just waved off. 

“That’s JJ. He saved me, two times to be exact. He’s cool.” You waved JJ over and he followed you step to John B. You gave him a quick hug and then saw how JJ held out his hand.

You glared at John B and he groaned slightly before shaking JJ’s hand.

“I don’t know why you’d bring a Kook here,” he grumbled and you hit his arm slightly.

“I told you, he is cool. He’s pool boy.” You might have mentioned that accident to your friends without any names or mentioning that your blonde savior was a Kook. Oops.

“Pool boy?” a female voice said while coming out of the house and you waved at Kie.

“Kiara?” JJ suddenly said and looked over at her, watching how she stopped in her tracks. You looked between the two of them forth and back.

“JJ?” Yup, they totally knew each other.

“Donkey?” you threw in and laughed a little at your Shrek reference, causing the others to laugh too.

“You know each other?” John B said in choir and the both nodded.

“Yeah, he’s the guy that keeps me grounded at all the Kook events. We drink and make it through the night somehow. He’s cool,” Kiara explained and JJ nodded in agreement.

“See, told you,” you teased John B and he just rolled your eyes. He sometimes acted like a big brother when he wasn’t drowning in his own shit.

“Are you staying? I know what it feels like to be a Kook, so I might as well show you my escape”, Kiara said and JJ rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

You laughed a little because he seemed so out of place right now but you could tell he probably needs an escape from life once in a while.

“Okay, show me,” JJ said and you grinned at him. It was a reckless thing to do, taking a Kook in but technically, Kiara was one too and if she and JJ got along, he would also get along with Pope and John B. It might just take a while but it would be okay.

There was this feeling inside of you that was telling you to help him, to make his eyes look sad and to hear a genuine laugh from him.

[collecting-stories]

Naive Melody - c. 4 - JJ Maybank

Request: no, just another blurb about these three.

A/N: Title based on the song This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) by Talking Heads. The version I linked to is a cover by Imaginary Future. 

Creedence Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Bea shrieked like a teenager meeting their celebrity crush as JJ walked through the back gate with Pope, both boys looking every bit like they had forgotten what they were supposed to be doing until the last minute. 

Bea’s request had been simple, a garden party for her birthday with everyone in dress up. You had even donned a white summer dress for the occasion though it looked like your boyfriend of a year and a half hadn’t bothered to put on a clean shirt. Regardless, Bea didn’t seem to care and in all honesty neither did you.  

“JJ!” Bea came tumbling out of the bouncy castle that your brother-in-law had rented and ran for JJ, squealing as he picked her up at the last second and threw her in the air before catching her. In another year the now six year old would be too big for the move but for now she was still small enough for JJ to scare the life out of your sister.  

“JJ! You could break her skull! Is that what you want!” Your sister’s voice cut across the backyard full of people and he fought to hold back a smile at her agitation. While she couldn’t definitively list one thing she disliked about him she still enjoyed giving him a hard time whenever he came around.  

“No Dos, I don’t wanna break her skull.” He laughed, setting Bea back on the ground. “We’ll have fun later, don’t worry.” He promised, kissing her cheek.  

“Promise?”  

“Pinky promise.” He agreed.  

While he pinky promised Bea more time you gave Pope a hug. “I didn’t know you were home already, how’s school?” Your boyfriend had failed to mention exactly when your friend was supposed to arrive home from Duke, only that it was ‘sometime in the summer’. You knew you could’ve gone right to the source but every time you talked to Pope you always forgot.  

“I just got home this morning, I thought you knew, JJ picked me up…in your car.”  

“I told you I had to be at the ferry this morning.” JJ replied, throwing an arm over your shoulders and pulling you into his side. He kissed you cheek and you smiled at the affectionate gesture. You weren’t much for kissing in public, or around your family, but Bea had caught the two of you on occasion when you were sitting her.  

“I just thought you were picking up your other girlfriend.” You teased. Your shriek matched Bea’s when JJ wrapped his arms around your waist and practically lifted you off the ground, blowing a raspberry against your neck. “Get off, get off!”

“I know this is a kids party but you two are practically adults, I think you’re being a little immature. Maybe try to reign it in. Or save it for when you’re home?” Your sister suggested as she came over to where the three of you were.  

JJ pulled away from you, trying to look apologetic but failing, “sorry Dos.”  

“I swear to god it’s like having three kids.” She shook her head in disdain at you and JJ before giving Pope a hug, “please tell me you aren’t staying with these two while you’re here. You’d have better luck staying at the motel.”  

“Hey! No one’s ever found roaches in our apartment.” JJ replied defensively though he knew your sister was only joking.  

The small studio apartment that the two of you had rented out was part of an old plantation home that had been divided up in the 60’s when the landowner wanted to make more money off renters. There was a pool There was a pool in the backyard and the three other couples that lived in the house with you. A lesbian couple split the first floor with an old man and his wife, the middle was taken by a family of four, and the apartment across from yours was a middle-aged couple with no kids. It was a nice enough place and your sister had gifted the two of you some furniture that she didn’t want anymore.  

It had been a spur of the moment decision on both of your parts to move in together. JJ was tired of couch surfing and your sister’s standing rule of him not being allowed to stay over was doubly enforced once the two of you started dating. It took a year of saving and looking around and finishing out high school before the two of you moved but it was worth it in the end.  

“My mom is pretty set on me being home for the summer.” Pope replied.  

“JJ!” Bea shouted across the small backyard, waving him over, a rather perplexed look on her face. She was standing around with a small group of friends who had come for the party and the bouncy castle and the cake. Their parents had been left to mingle with your brother-in-law while your sister stuck to you and Pope. It had been harder than either of you expected when you moved out and whenever you were around your sister seemed to stick close, as if you’d up and disappear at any moment.  

“What up Beatrice?” JJ asked, coming over to sit with her and her friends.  

She wrinkled her nose the same way you did whenever something bothered her, frowning at JJ for the use of her first name. It had been fine when she was four but now she was six and all her friends had names like Emma and Ashley and Anna and she had Beatrice.  

“Why wasn’t I your flower girl?”

“What?” He looked back across the yard at you for a second but you were paying attention to Pope and Dos, completely unaware and out of earshot of the odd question your niece had asked.  

“When you got married, why wasn’t I your flower girl?” Bea repeated, looking truly perplexed. “Ashley said that when you get married you get a flower girl…why wasn’t I it?”

“Cause I’m not married?” JJ replied.  

“But you live together.”  

“Yeah…sometimes people live together before they get married.” JJ explained, trying not to get himself into trouble. “But when we do get married I’ll let you know.”  

“When will that be?”

“Hopefully sooner than later.” He glanced back over at you and the telepathic wavelength he’d been trying to accomplish earlier seemed to work because you smiled at him and then made your way over. Something he didn’t think too much about because he was busy admiring the dress you were wearing, one that, coincidentally enough happened to be white. When you reached him, sitting on a picnic bench with his back against the table, you sat on his lap, hooking an arm around his shoulders to support yourself.  

“What kind of gossip is happening over here?” You asked and suddenly it all clicked but JJ was too late because Bea had already opened her mouth.

“JJ said when you get married I’m gonna be flower girl.”  

“JJ said so?” You asked, looking at your boyfriend suspiciously. It sounded much more like something that Bea would say though the thought did have you in giddy knots thinking about marrying him.  

“I may have been cornered on the decision.” JJ explained, looking back to Bea and smiling, “if you’re the flower girl how are you gonna be my best man?”  

“Whoa, hey, wait a second.” You laughed, “why do you get Bea? What if I wanted her?”  

“No way…Bea’s my best friend.”  

“She’s my niece!”  

“Guys, guys,” Bea put a hand on your knee and a hand on JJ’s to get your attention, “I’m a flexible person!”  

JJ burst out laughing at her as one of her friends vied for her attention, pulling her back toward the bounce castle. You leaned your forehead against his collar, eyes shut and unable to stop the smile on your face. “So when is this wedding?” You teased, pulling away to look at him.  

“Don’t rush me.”  

“Oh I’m not, but I think my niece might be.”  

-

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