#tomato sauce. does this not sound strange to anyone else.

[mashmouths]

do food allergies typically get worse without regular exposure bc i don't think my throat used to swell up

[jostepherjoestar]

Can I request La Squadra finally seeing the face of their new member who always wears a mask. Like they never take it off but they eventually do for each member after they get comfortable with them as a sign of respect.

Masked new La Squadra member finally showing their face to the boys Scenarios

sfw // gn reader

Oh the absolute delicateness of this has me swooning. I can only imagine how much courage our reader must have to finally show their face to their beloved teammates. These turned out as scenario’s heh sorry. Thanks for requesting!!

Risotto

“Signore can I come in?” you knocked carefully on the thick wooden door separating your stoic capo’s office from your nervous form. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t call your boss by his first name, it felt wrong to talk so casually towards him. Like you hadn’t yet earned that privilege.

“Come in.” His voice muffled by the distance but it still sounded so wonderfully gruff. A deep breath out, the built up courage bringing you inside his office. The dark eyed man was nose deep in papers, his laptop that looked like it was hanging on by wires and good luck whirring on the side of the large oak desk, a picture of a target displayed on the pixelated screen. “Mhh?” his hum having enough intonation to tell you he wanted to know why you came to visit him in the middle of the night. “Is it possible to take a moment? Only if you have the time of course, signore.” you carefully asked not wanting to interrupt his workflow. “Not really. But if you help me sort these out we can discuss in the meantime.” He hadn’t looked up from his papers yet, sorting them after quickly scratching them with his pen. You took him up on the invitation, quietly sitting down in the chair that had been resting in front of his desk, usually reserved for personal meetings. Perhaps this was one. He slid you a folder across the table asking you to sort them by date. Before you accepted the work you carefully took of your mask laying it on the table in front of you, just in your capo’s field of view. He noticed the mask that usually covered your face staring back at him from the table, he was a little weary from working so long that it hadn’t sunk in yet what it meant. After a second that felt like it took ages he finally looked up at you realising your reveal. His eyes didn’t linger but while your eyes met his darker ones, you could see a small dimple appear on his cheek. Quietly he returned to his papers and so did you, feeling relieved that you’d finally done it, it was the first time you’ve seen him smile.

Formaggio

The red sauce swirled with flecks of green herbs as you stirred it mindlessly getting lost in the movement. The smell of tomatoes, garlic and basil filled the entire house and would continue to for a few more days. Whenever you made a big batch of your delicious but simple sauce it stayed on the stove for at least a full night on the smallest amount of heat the stove could muster. Every once in a while you’d go and stir, awakening the aromas again. The sun was starting to set and you were getting ready to let your sauce gently rest for the evening. Alone in the house except for one other: your good friend Formaggio. You hadn’t bothered with putting on your mask, feeling relaxed and ready just in case Formaggio would walk in and see you. He’d grown quite close to you, both enjoying each others company whenever in need for some carefree fun. You could hear him laugh at the tv in the other room where he’d been sitting for quite some time. Only having greeted him while on your way to the small kitchen you all shared at your headquarters. “Mhh your sauce smells soooo good! Can I reserve a couple jars when it’s done? I get special treatment cause we’re friends right?” Formaggio said as he stepped into the kitchen, head still halfway turned to the tv left behind him. His request pulling you out of the stupor of stirring, surprised he hasn’t noticed your face yet. When he turned he had to do a double take. Was that really you? Did a stranger slip into the house just to stir your sauce? “Is that your face?” his quizzical look making you laugh, the way he phrased his shock even more. “What? Is it that bad?” you retorted in amusement while holding up the wooden spoon. “No, no. It’s just... wow. I didn’t really expect this. You look nice, even better than I imagined.” It looked like he was trying his best not to stumble over his words, your witty friend normally being more easygoing in his reactions. “Oh good. However, complementing me does not earn you extra sauce.” you playfully winked at him before returning to stirring.

Illuso

The early morning sun shone brightly through your windows bringing in the new dawn. It was rare for you to be up at the same time as the sun rose, maybe it was more more common for you to finally take your rest as you saw it appear. Sluggishly dragging your slippers across the floor you entered the bathroom to splash some fresh water onto your face so it would help you stay awake. Your current mission requiring you to take an early flight to your target’s destination. As your tired eyes stared back at you, droplets still falling down from your now refreshed face, a sudden movement caused you to tense up. You swear you saw a dark figure move across the mirror faster than you could process. A panic grew in your chest as you realised your mask was still resting on your nightstand. Shit. “Illuso?” you asked quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear you. You wouldn’t put it past him to sneak up on you like this but it would be a strange event since you’d become quite close to the well kept man. You’d go as far to call him a friend. But no one replied. The shadow didn’t return no matter how long you stared. Feeling your suspicion fall you decided to carry on with your morning, maybe you were just tired. But upon entering your room again you were surprised to see your aforementioned friend lounging casually on your comforter. “Morning. Just wanted to wish you a safe trip.” he smiled, it looked so sly sitting on his turned lips. “Illuso don’t scare me like that. It was you in the mirror wasn’t it?” you scolded him, turning your face away from him. But it had been too late, he already saw your beautiful face and kept his strong gaze on you. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to. I just use that mirror to skip along very often.” you still didn’t believe his defence, slowly growing angry at his trespassing. Before you knew it you felt his figure behind you, a muscled arm reaching around. As you looked down you saw him holding out the familiar mask in his hand. You quickly took it from him and fastened it. “I really am sorry darling, but so glad I at least got a glimpse of the beauty you’re hiding.” he smirked. Before you could smack him, he was off again into his mirrorworld avoiding any other further confrontation.

Prosciutto

“You asked for me?” his warm voice entered before he did, slowly pushing open the creaky door to your room as he knocked. As he came to face you Prosciutto stopped in his tracks, his hand still on the door handle gripping it tightly . “I’m so sorry, I should have stayed outside!” his apology was flustered, face snapped to the side so he wasn’t looking at you. To his surprise you’d been waiting for him, sitting nervously on your desk chair facing the entrance, the only thing that had been different was the fact you’d taken off your mask. Your bright eyes shone at him making Prosciutto wish he could linger longer in the split second he could take in your features. “No! No... it’s ok. This is why I asked you to come. Please, it’s- you can look.” you hurriedly replied waving your hands while you spoke. The way he responded filled you with relief though, the gentlemanly way he tried to respect your privacy wasn’t something you’ll soon forget. He sighed while swallowing deeply, you could clearly see his throat bob with apprehensiveness. The bun’s on his head turned with him while he finally met your eyes again, this time properly. He stood there for a moment, quietly taking in your lovely face. Admiring the way your nose bent, the way the low orange hue of your desk light seemed to make your eyes sparkle. It was silent for a moment, you felt your hands clam up as you gripped your fingers in your palms. “I’m sorry I surprised you Prosciutto.” your voice was soft, hinting at your embarrassment. You don’t really take off your mask for just anyone, it was the way Prosciutto had treated you since you joined that made you feel so welcome and wanted. He always did his best to include you, he never even questioned your mask. “It’s alright. I- You look lovely, uhm. Thank you?” never had you seen him this flustered. It wasn’t like your blonde colleague at all. His hand still hadn’t let go of the door handle, knuckles now white from his grip. You chuckled as his response, how weird of him to thank you. But you felt what he meant, he appreciated that you trusted him.

Pesci

It was a sunny afternoon, the soft rays of winter sunshine lighting up your room with a soft orange hue. The heater had been turned on causing a nice and cozy atmosphere in your little personal bubble. Even though it was sunny, the temperatures had dropped drastically and since you were so used to the natural warmth of Napoli you were wrapped in a warm sweater to further keep in as much heat as possible. You just got done sorting some files to help your capo get some time off from work just like the rest of his team. It was a peaceful day, most of your companions were out and about, going on walks or shopping or out enjoying a drink. Among the ones that stayed behind was the tall, green tufted, shy and nervous teammate you’d started to become closer with. Finally able to get past his own hurdles, he felt comfortable enough around you. Opting to sit closer while watching tv together instead of nervously clamming up and not moving for 20 minutes. It felt like the right time to reveal some more of yourself, entrusting Pesci with the well kept secret that was your face. You hurried downstairs, excited butterflies making your stomach bubble, asking Pesci to meet you in your room in 5 minutes. He seemed a bit surprised and anxious since you hadn’t told him why, a million thoughts going through his head as to why you wanted him there. Did he mess up something? Were you mad at him? Did you not want to be friends anymore? Oh god please make these 5 minutes shorter. The excitement hadn’t left your body, perking up as you heard Pesci’s steps in the hallway before he knocked on your door. You quickly replied for him to come in and sit down on your bed. Seeing how enthusiastic you were made him calm down a bit, still overtly curious as to what it is you wanted to say. “Close your eyes for me please!” You said as you bounced a little on your soft mattress. He cautiously did as you asked and closed his eyes shut and held them that way. Quickly taking off your mask and putting it down on the bed before you, a last breath out and you were ready. “Open please!” He squinted one eye open, trying to get a lay of the view before him, worried you were pranking him. But to his own surprise the view was anything but scary. His face softened and a soft blush made its way over his cheeks as a goofy smile became apparent. “You look so lovely.” It seemed that it was a comment he actually wanted to keep to himself because he swiftly brought his hand to his mouth to cover it. Like he was pushing the words back in, but it was too late. You giggled at his response, still reeling from the excitement. “It’s a secret though, no pictures.” you winked at him to tell him his response was no issue.

Melone

Tired eyes stare at the blue hued screen before him. Another all nighter, the moment he opened new tabs he kept going deeper and deeper, any interesting term that caught his attention got added to the already heaping to-read list. Finally admitting that he needs to hydrate and maybe even eat a snack, Melone sighs and stretches his arms and legs. Cracking and popping heard from his sore joints from sitting in the hunched over position way too long. His purple, vanilla scented blanket still resting on his head and shoulders as he quietly sneaks downstairs towards the kitchen for the quick midnight raid. His fluffy socks muffling his steps as he walks into the dining area that connects to the small kitchen. Only the soft sheen of street lights illuminated the room as he scuffled by the seats. But it doesn’t feel like he’s alone, his senses tingle and his arm hair stands up. Smart enough not the densely ask “Who’s there?” he opts to engage his sneaking abilities. As slow and quiet as possible he scoots over to the light switch ready to fight whoever made their way into the house. The lights spring on, the brightness of the bulbs hurting his tired eyes that desperately needed a rest. After rubbing them and adjusting his vision, he sees a familiar form resting their head on their arms slumped over the kitchen table. Creeping closer to inspect you he sees your body move slightly with the shallow breaths. It seemed you had fallen asleep while reading and someone just turned off the kitchen lights, going along with their night not bothering to wake you up. The thought made Melone huff out a laugh. He did also notice the mask you usually wore resting next to the book, your delicate hand resting next to it, like the second you took it off drowsiness got the better of you. “Hey...Wake up, sleepyhead. Unless you want Prosciutto eating his breakfast and using your head as a table you should probably go to bed.” he whispered in your ear. You weren’t that far gone into sleep so his whispers jolted you up, confusedly staring down in front of you as you felt Melone’s figure close next to you. When you starting lifting your head further up to straighten yourself you felt a stern hand push down your head. “Shhh careful. You’re not wearing your mask!” he hushed into your ear with a mischievous tone. Getting annoyed by his antics you opted to just leave it. Slapping his hand off of your head, standing up and leaving your belongings on the table. Before you left the kitchen for your room you stopped to give Melone a grumpy glare. “Why’re you looking all angry at me? I warned you.” he huffs in amusement as he shoots you a wink and a kiss. You’ll deal with him in the morning.

Ghiaccio

The heavy beats and synths moved through your ears, pounding into your chest as the wind blew harshly against you. It was nighttime and barely any cars other than the one you were in were visible on the road. The cool, salty breeze filling your lungs as you breathed in heavily. You still felt uneasy, gripping your hands into fists, wanting to release a scream so loud it would wake up all of southern Italy. Today was just not your day. Shit upon shit kept piling up and you felt like you were about to explode when Ghiaccio spotted how upset you were and offered to take you on a drive. “Anything will do at this point. Let’s go.” Before he had enough time to grab his keys you were already out the door and had jumped into the passenger seat of his expensive red sports car. You’d been cruising on long winding roads, the ocean view beside you causing at least some relief. Ghiaccio had been awfully silent the whole ride, letting his music fill the air instead. The engine stopped atop a mountain road, an empty parking place near the summit of the hill, a few benches strewn about so visitors could relax. But it was just you two, staring out at the ocean waves that seemed to move in a much more calming way than you felt. “Do you want to talk about it?” Ghiaccio said cautiously as he turned down the volume of the radio so you could talk in peace. “It’s just so... ngh. Just- fuck!” you gripped at your hair in frustration, there were no words that wanted to come out, still too riled up. “Ah, it’s one of those days.” He said while looking at you over his red frames. Like he read your thoughts he suggested you let it all out in one scream. “It helps me sometimes. Don’t worry, no one’s ever come up here to check if I was being murdered. They don’t care, just scream.” Without any warning you flipped off your mask, it landing in Ghiaccio’s lap as he just stared at you in shock. The pure guttural scream you let out felt like it had been brewing for a long time. A wild animal finally let out of its cage. He was impressed by you as you sat back down letting go of the windshield that was being gripped so tightly when you stood up to yell. A heavy sigh leaving your lips as he hands you back your mask. “You’re kind of scary when you’re mad, you know that?” he chuckled under his breath. “I like that about you.” he continued as he saw a small smile grow back on your lips he was so gingerly admiring.

[johnsamericano]

“Mine.” l.m.k

Genre: suspense (kind of), smut-ish, angst.

Pairing: yandere/stalker!mark x fem!reader

Warnings: Possesive behavior, metions of death, yandere mark, psychological abuse, blackmailing, obsessive love

Disclaimer: This fanfic does not reflect the actual personalities of the idols mentioned, this is purely fictional.

a/n: I wanted to write something halloween-like before spooky season is over. This is actual shit please forgive me 😔

Taglist: @floweringtheflowers

“Where’s your friend, Hyuck?”

“Look, there he is. Jeno!” He walked towards you with a slightly shorter male by his side. “Hey man.”

“Hey Hyuck.” They hugged each other briefly. “I brought Mark, is that okay with you?”

“Sure.” You both answered at the same time.

“Thank you for driving us home, she doesn’t trust Uber drivers.”

“Shut up.” You’d seen the enough horror movies to know it’s never safe to get into a car with a stranger. “Thank you...Jeno and Mark, right?”

“No problem.” You noticed the shorter guy’s gaze was fixated in You. “Let’s get going.” You walked towards his car under the moonlight, the only audible sound was the one from your high heels clicking in the pavement.

“I’ve never seen you at our campus.” Mark suddenly blurted out.

“I’m an arts major, our building is literally hidden behind a bunch of trees.” He giggled. You swore it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard.

“I’m an architecture major.”

Hyuck sat beside the drivers seat while you kept chatting with Mark in the back row. He was the sweetest person and his laugh was so contagious. You exchanged numbers before hopping out of the car.

Mark texted you the moment you stepped inside your apartment, beginning a conversation that would keep you up till 2:00 a.m.

Your late night conversations kept happening for at least a week.

“Mark?” He was standing right at the entrance of your building.

“You weren’t lying when you said it was hidden behind a bunch of trees, it took me hours to find it.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He was using a plain black shirt along with beige trousers. His silky hair covered his forehead almost completely.

“I found this nice Italian restaurant nearby and I remembered you said you liked it, so uhm...can I take you there?” He didn’t casually find it, he stayed up all night long looking up for places you’d like.

“You remembered!”

“So...is that a yes?”

“Yes!” The corners of his lips went up, revealing that beautiful smile you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for the past week. “Let’s go.”

The food was absolutely delicious and the company was even better. Mark kept talking about whatever came first to his mind, installing a nice atmosphere around you.

“Wait, so you’re from Canada?” You asked before stuffing your mouth with lasagna once again.

“Yup.” He smiled while grabbing a napkin and wiping the corners of your mouth. “Sorry, it’s just that you had some tomato sauce.”

“It’s alright, thank you.” You couldn’t deny that the sweet gesture made your heart flutter.

The blush in your cheeks only made you prettier, and Mark couldn’t help but to imagine how would it be to cup your rosy cheeks. He almost felt the heat irradiating from them in the palms of his hands.

“So, uhm, do you have a girlfriend or something?” You shyly asked.

He laughed nervously before answering. “No, I’m single.”

“Is this a date then?” He was about to deny it, but you cut him off. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if it was.”

“I-I guess it is then.” You giggled awkwardly, proceeding to take another bite of your delicious food. “So, can I hold your hand?” There was it again, that beautiful blush tinting your cheeks.

“Sure.” You extended your free hand, looking at your plate while you waited for him to take it.

He hesitantly reached out for it, taking your small hand between his fingers and caressing the soft skin. Everything around you seemed to have stopped, it was just you and him in your little bubble of happiness.

“Hyuckie.” You greeted him through the phone. “You won’t believe what happened today.”

“You finally got laid?”

“Asshole.” He giggled. “I had a date.”

“Yeah, I know. Mark wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Really?” You couldn’t hide the smile forming in your lips.

“Listen, I need to go now but we’ll talk later.” He made the sound of a kiss before hanging up.

(...)

You had a few more dates before he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. Despite everything was going too fast, you were happy with him.

“Y/n?” You were stuck inside of a classroom, trying to portrait the nude model in front of you as well as you could. There was a strange feeling burning in his chest.

“Oh, hey Mark.” Your gaze was fixated in the other male. “Johnny, you think we could finish later?”

“Sure.” He grabbed a silky robe and covered his exposed body. “See you.” He bowed before exiting the room.

“What exactly were you doing?” Mark’s usual sweet tone had become lower.

“Oh, Mark. Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” You mocked him. “Don’t worry, I only have eyes for you dummy.”

But your reassuring words weren’t enough. His mind was full of that naked man, his imagination creating wicked scenarios of you with him.

“I’m serious, Mark. You’re the only one that I love, okay?” He nodded, despite there was a voice in his head telling him not to believe you, that you were a liar. “Do you want to know how much I love you?” You slightly palmed him through the fabric of his jeans.

You made love to him in the middle of your classroom, but his mind was still somewhere else.

“Mark, what’s going on?” You asked while putting your clothes back on. “I told you it’s nothing to worry about, besides, it’s not the first time I-”

“So you’ve done this more than once.” A sarcastic grin adorned his lips. “I think I’ll go home now.”

“But what about our date?”

“I’m not in the mood, y/n.” He slammed the door on his way out.

He’d never talked to you like that before, and it was certainly disconcerting. You picked up your materials, turning the lights off before exiting the room.

That night you recieved a text from Mark apologizing for his behavior. But something felt off. You decided to let it slide, he’d probably be back to normal the next day.

But the thing is, he never completely went back to normal, his scary persona would come out at the minimum sight of you with another boy. And it was frankly pissing you off, but again, you let it slide.

“Touch her again and I’ll crush your legs.” You were taking to one of your classmates when he ruffled your hair, little did you know Mark had been watching the two of you.

“Dude, chill. We’re just friends.”

“Mark, what the hell?” You whispered.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed your wrist harshly, dragging you out of the building while you struggled to get out of his grip.

“Stop, Mark. You’re hurting me.”

He stopped, letting go of you. “Are you cheating?”

“You’re being stupid right now.”

“Well, how about you stop being such a slut with your classmates, huh?” That was your breaking point.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His heart was aching, regret filling every inch of his body. “I’m sick of your possessiveness!” You crossed your arms over your chest. “And calling me a slut? I think we should take a break.”

“I’m sorry, babe, I didn’t mean any of it.” He tried to embrace you, but yo pushed him away.

“Leave me alone, please.” But how could he stay away from his precious little angel? You were asking him to do the impossible. He’d fallen for you so quickly, yet so hard.

“Please, y/n. Give me another chance, I swear to god it won’t happen again. But please, don’t leave me.”

You went back in, ignoring your boyfriend’s sobs.

‘I can’t loose her.’ The thought kept repeating in his mind over and over again. He had to be with you at all costs, even if it meant threatening you.

“Mark, I swear to god if you call me once again I’ll block you.” You picked up your phone after listening to your call ringtone for about thirty minutes.

“I’m outside of your house. Let’s talk, please.”

“Mark, we’re done. So please, leave.”

“We’re not done until I say so.” There it was again. That cold tone that gave you goosebumps. “Check your messages.”

Your phone vibrated against your cheek, signaling you had a new text. You opened your chat with Mark, only to find a picture of you naked, legs wide open.

“H-how?” You never noticed he’d taken pictures of you, and it made you wonder how many times he’d done it.

“You better open the door before I post this so everyone can see it.” He smirked at you as soon as you opened the door. Dark circles and puffy eyes adorned his face. “Always so obedient.”

“What the fuck?” You tried to grab his phone, earning a small grin from him. “Delete them.”

“Bossy, aren’t we? You should reconsider your words or I might just send the video as well.”

“There’s a video?” Your eyes were wide open, fear taking over your body. “Please don’t, I’ll do anything.”

“Now we’re talking.” He wasn’t capable of sending them to anyone since it would mean that other man would see you naked, but you didn’t have to know that. “Let’s take a seat, shall we?”

He made himself at home. He even had the audacity to hug you.

“I missed you.” He leaned closer to your hair, sniffing it, the calming scent of coconut filling his nostrils. “Did you miss me?”

There was only one correct answer.

“Yes.” You forced yourself to say.

“That sounded like a lie, baby.” He warned, unlocking his phone and mockingly playing your video.

“I-I missed you M-mark.” He hummed in approval, proceeding to turn his phone off.

(...)

You tried your best to please Mark for the next weeks, letting him take you out on dates and grab your hand, like he used to do.

“Mark.” Your voice was shaking slightly. “I need to stay for a few extra hours to finish my project.” He wanted you to inform him about each and every one of your movements, even installing a tracking device in your purse while you weren’t paying attention.

“You know, babe. I’ve been thinking, wouldn’t it be more convenient if we lived together?” At this point, you knew you wouldn’t be able to decline his offer. Nevertheless, you tried to talk your way out of it.

“But we’ve been dating for less than three months and we have different schedules-” His thumb found it’s way to your lips.

“We’ll figure it out. I’ll go to your house on Friday to help you packing. I can’t wait to live with you.” He let out a soft giggle before saying goodbye.

So now you were losing your only private place too. He’d be watching you 24/7, controlling each and every one of your movements. You were doomed and needed to find a way out of it.

You looked for your only trustworthy friend whom you’d not seen very often in the last few months.

“Hyuck can we meet?”

“It’s the first time I hear from you in weeks and you’re not even gonna say hello?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s really urgent. Are you free right now?” He hummed. “I’ll wait for you at the cafeteria.”

You sat down at one of the tables in the corner.

“I thought you were dead.” He hugged you tightly as soon as he saw you. “What’s going on? You sounded uneasy through the phone.”

“I need you to promise you won’t tell anyone.”

“Fine, just spit it out.”

You resumed all the events from your first date to the actual situation. Haechan’s jaw dropped by the end of your story.

“If this is a prank I’m gonna be pissed.” Mark was his friend, so of course, it was shocking to find out what he’d been up to.

“I really wish it was.” You were on the verge of tears, holding them in as well as you could. “Please, hyuck, help me.”

“First of all, I don’t think Mark will send those pictures to anyone. He’d only get himself in trouble.” He combed his hair back using his fingers. “And y/n, is your reputation really more important than your freedom?”

His advice helped you make a decision. You bid hyuck goodbye after promising to call him if anything happened and made your way to your building, where you knew Mark would be waiting for you.

“Mark.” You called him. He turned his head to the side, a big smile adorning his face as soon as he saw you.

“Hey baby. I have a lunch break now, wanna go to that Italian restaurant?”

‘That fucking Italian restaurant started everything.’

“No.” His eyebrows twitched the slightest, but that creepy grin remained.

“Have you forgotten about that photo?”

“Just do whatever you want.”

There was no way you could’ve known he’d take it so literally.

“Hey, y/n.” Johnny was standing a few meters away from you. “Ready for today’s session? You better make me look pretty in that canvas.”

You giggled. That was enough to set a fire inside Mark. He was the only one allowed to make you smile.

“Goodbye, Mark.” You went inside the building with him, laughing at whatever he’d just said.

‘Get rid of him.’ The voice inside of his head kept repeating. He was an obstacle between you and him, and obstacles need to be removed.

Hours went by quickly as you worked on your final project. You took a break to go to the bathroom and rest your mind.

“This is so tiring.” You said to yourself as you washed your hands. A loud thud was heard from a nearby classroom.

You quickly dried your hands and made your way to the room Johnny was in.

“Hey, is everything okay? Why did you turn off the lights?” You used your finger to turn the switch on.

‘Is this...blood?’ There was a poodle of opaque red liquid surrounding your classmate. Multiple injuries were visible in his naked body.

“Hi honey.” Chills ran down your spine as you heard Mark behind you. You turned around to face him.

“M-mark, what did you do?” He smirked, apparently unbothered even though he was standing over a poodle of blood.

“I’m sorry, baby. But he deserved it.” With every step he took forward, you took one back.

“He didn’t do anything!” Tears streamed down your face as he caged you between his arms.

“Oh, but he did.” You could hear some guttural sounds coming out from the limp body. He was still alive. “He looked at you with that dumb little smile, he even made you laugh. I needed to teach him not to mess with someone else’s property.” His breath was fanning against your nose. “And my little girl needed to be taught to behave.”

“Please, Mark. Stop this.”

“But I did it for us, babe. So we can be together forever.” The touch that you once craved now made you nauseous. “Don’t you want to be with me?”

“Mark, please, let me go.”

“I think I wasn’t clear enough.” His blood stained face came closer to yours, tracing your jawline with the tip of his bloody knife. “We’re soulmates, and soulmates are meant to be together.” He tilted his head as the metallic blade slightly pierced through the skin of your neck. “Don’t you think so, honey?”

The sounds coming from Johnny distracted you from the pain in your neck.

“We need to get him some help!” You tried to reach out for him, but Mark slammed you against the wall.

“You like him, don’t you?” Sadness peeked through his voice. “It’s okay baby, my love is enough for both of us.”

“Stop it!” You screamed while pushing him away with all your strength, getting enough space for you to run.

You ran as fast as you could, nevertheless, luck wasn’t on your side. You took a wrong step and fell down the stairs, a rib or two breaking in the process. You whined, hugging your chest in an attempt to ease the pain.

“Oh, sweetie. Look what you’ve done.” Mark smirked as he looked down at you. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He crouched beside your curled up body with a grin. “Let’s take you home.”

[angrylizardjacket]

dirtbags // 3: Charlotte

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lola. Smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charlotte picked up a menu.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leo’s my dad.”

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

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

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

Up until Vince starts complaining about the exchange student again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that’s not news.

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

“You sound like my parents.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lola and Nikki Sixx are friends.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!” Charlotte snaps, automatically defensive.

“Because I’m not -”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck, Charlie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So she does.

“I need a new band.”

“I can’t help you.”

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

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

“You know Duff McKagan?”

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

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

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

“Yeah,” is all Nikki has to say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[timelordthirteen]

Desperate Souls 4/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn’t long before they both realize they’ve made a deal they didn’t understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: The second meeting goes unexpectedly, once again, as Gold reveals more than he intends.

Notes: Thank you so much for all the comments on this fic. I honestly thought it wouldn't be that well received as this Gold is sort of hard to like in places. I'm really enjoying writing this darker version of him, even if it's hard at times to get into his headspace. Enjoy the first of many Skin Deep references, and a slight tick up towards the ultimate rating of this fic. ;) This is the nightie Belle is wearing. Also omg this is unbeta'd and a hot mess, sorry.

[AO3]

If Belle thought that seeing Mr. Gold in the week leading up to her first evening at his house was awkward, then the week after it was excruciating.

All she could think every time she so much as saw him walking by on the street was he’s seen me in my underwear! It made for several days of fierce blushes and unfinished lunches. Her mind kept replaying the moment when she’d turned around to face him again, and he’d let the softest, quietest lovely slip out. She still hadn’t figured out if he’d even meant to say it out loud. It was hard to believe that seeing her in a glorified nightgown had rendered Gold that speechless, especially given how well known he was for having a sharp tongue. She’d witnessed him giving Keith Nottingham a dressing down last summer, right outside the mechanics shop where Keith worked. Even though Keith was well over six feet tall and clearly worked out, Gold made him seem tiny, almost insignificant.

She grinned at the memory.

Keith was a jerk in every sense of the word, and Gold verbally tearing him a new asshole was the least that he deserved. But that was the kind of presence Gold had in the town; the mayor, the sheriff, the district attorney, they all acquiesced to him. Rumors said he had dirt on everyone, that nothing happened within thirty miles of the town line that he didn’t know about. She wondered sometimes whether that was part of why he’d made this deal with her, so that he would know something about her as well, so that he could have that control.

The thought was not comforting, but it was confusing. In theory, she had as much on Gold as he did on her in this situation. In fact, her position would seem far more sympathetic, if embarrassing, and if anyone did find out - god fucking forbid - she highly doubted they would take Gold’s side. It wasn’t the same as whatever he knew about Albert Spencer or Regina Mills, that made them go white as a ghost whenever Gold hinted at it under his breath.

So what the hell was his motivation?

Belle sighed, and regarded herself in the mirror. She’d left the library right on time, and decided that tonight she wouldn’t shower before going to Gold’s. It was a waste of time if every Thursday evening she was going to come home feeling the need to do it again. Instead she sat down to touch up her makeup and hair out of some odd desire to look as nice as possible. It was another one of the things that confused her. She should have said the hell with it, and not cared if her hair needed a good brushing, or if her lipstick had worn off. Yet she did. She cared how she looked, and for as much as Gold was paying her, she figured he might care too.

Last night she’d even put polish on her toenails, a light, shimmery pink, and gave herself a mini pedicure. If she was going to be barefoot again, then that was part of the package too. She’d look as pretty as she could, head to toe - literally, and that way if Gold let anything else slip out, then perhaps he might have reason to mean it.

Belle arrived at Mr. Gold’s house perfectly on time.

Her knock sounded at exactly one minute till seven, she’d checked her phone as she came up the front sidewalk to make sure, and the door opened right as the grandfather clock in the living room chimed the top of the hour.

“Miss French.” Gold’s mouth curved as he gave her a brief, appraising look before stepping back to allow her inside. “Right on time tonight.”

The first thing that she noticed was the bold, pink dress shirt beneath his pinstripe suit. She had noticed a while ago that he preferred a splash of color in his wardrobe, which was usually done through a striking tie or pocket square, but everyone once in a while there was something unexpected; last week it had been his checkered shirt, this week it was a brilliant pink. There was an eccentricity to his style that she appreciated. He appeared very reserved in his manner and dress, yet these little touches reflected something else entirely, something that kept people guessing.

Once again she caught a hint of something from the kitchen, tomatoes and garlic and something spicy. Spaghetti sauce, she assumed, and she made a happy noise, inhaling the mouthwatering scent as Gold once again took her coat and hung it up.

“Well, now I’m even hungrier,” she said. “Does it always smell delicious in here?”

He frowned. “You haven’t eaten?”

Bell shrugged. “Didn’t want to eat and then try on clothes, you know?”

He let out a gumbling hum and motioned for her to go ahead of him. “I assume you know where things are?”

She nodded and stopped by the door to the powder room. “Yup.”

“I need to finish cleaning up,” he said, moving past her and into the short hallway to the kitchen. “Will be just a moment.”

As soon as he turned his back, she opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. Her stomach was a mess, unable to decide between hunger pangs and the same vaguely nauseous feeling as last week. She set her purse in the same place on the set of shelves set beside the sink, and slipped off her shoes. She was more than halfway undressed, trousers off and blouse completely unbuttoned, before she thought to look at what Gold had put out for her, and stopped.

The nightie hung on the same padded hanger on the back of the door, looking delicate and pretty and oddly foreboding. It was a light, rosy pink and made of a stretchy cotton blend that was more practical than it was sexy, as was the little robe that went with it, but what her eyes were fixed on was the plunging neckline covered in lace. She swallowed and turned away, letting her blouse fall over her shoulders to catch at her wrists. The chemise from last week was the most unrevealing and basic thing she had, she’d known that, but knowing what else there was to be worn and seeing it hanging in front of her were two different things.

Reaching back, she unhooked her bra and then drew it down before hanging it over one of the posts framing the shelves along with her blouse. Turning back to the door, she took the nightie off the hanger and blanched when she saw the panties beneath it, dangling from one of those metal clips made to hold skirts or pants in place. Her eyes closed and she took a slow breath.

A beat later, she slipped the nightie over her head.

The skirt of it fell just to the tops of her thighs, barely covering her in the front and back, much shorter than what she’d worn last week which was as long as some of her dresses. This was undeniably sexual, meant to tease, and suddenly she was glad there was matching underwear to put on beneath it. She shoved her navy blue pair down and then took them off to lay folded on her trousers. The sensation was strange, so she quickly pulled on the matching panties, and then faced herself in the mirror.

The nightie clipped in the back like a bra, just under where the straps criss-crossed, and it took her a moment to adjust everything to where it needed to be. The cups were soft and lined, giving her breasts a little more coverage than the black silk did, for which she was grateful, although the deep dip in the front showed off just how much cleavage she didn’t have. The panties were the same soft cotton blend as the rest of it, with matching lace at the waist that stretched without digging into anything.

On the whole, now that she had it all on, it didn’t feel so bad. She had a sundress with the same sort of straps and clasp in the back, and aside from the length of the skirt it wasn’t that different. All in all it was actually comfortable enough to sleep in during the summer, she thought, which was sort of why she’d bought it in the first place. It made her wonder if Gold was going in some kind of order, working his way up to what he thought was the most risque and scandalous.

The robe was still on the hanger and she eyed it for a few seconds, trying to decide if she should put it on or not. It was part of what she’d purchased, and Gold had put it out with the nightie, but donning another layer meant she’d probably have to take it off. It was going to be a bit difficult to model the nightie if it was covered up with something else, but given how chilled she’d been last time, she thought she could get away with wearing it at least for a few minutes.

Sighing, she tied the sash of the robe at her waist and then eased open the door to peek into the hallway. Gold was still in the kitchen, if the clang of a pot being set in the sink was anything to go by, so she stepped out and hurried into the study. The doors were closed again, the fire roaring even bigger than last time, and she started to smile. It seemed he might have noticed that she was cold and made accommodations. It was strangely thoughtful, much as his invite to have dinner was, and she struggled to know what to make of all of it.

There was another noise from the kitchen, so she closed the doors quietly, and gave the room a more thorough going over. She’d been so nervous last time that all she’d noticed was the general layout of the room. Assuming she had a few minutes until Gold joined her, she took a leisurely stroll around the space, her eyes scanning all the shelves and walls filled with pieces from Gold’s various collections.

The china cabinet opposite Gold’s chair was lit up this time with two small lights mounted above the top shelf. Belle came to stand in front of it, attracted by the light glinting unusually off of something inside. Her eyes went wide when she saw each shelf was full. Two vases sat on the bottom with an ornate oil lamp between them, dishes painted with landscape scenes, a silver tray beside an array of delicate crystal figurines, and on the top shelf, just at her eye level was the strangest tea set she’d ever seen.

Thin white porcelain had been adorned with flowers, painted in such great detail and outlined in such a way that they looked three dimensional, as though they had been plucked out of a garden. They looked so delicate that the petals might fall free if they were touched, but each cup and saucer as well as the pot and the tray it sat on looked as if they had been broken into a hundred pieces and glued back together with liquid gold.

“Kintsugi.”

Gold’s voice startled Belle, and she backed away from the cabinet as if she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

“What?”

His lips curved as he took a leisurely step towards her. “Kintsugi,” he repeated. “That’s what they call it.”

She looked from him to the tea set and back again, until he was standing next to her. “Kint - kintsu-gi?”

He nodded. “It means golden repair in Japanese, the art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer and gold dust.”

Her eyes widened. “Gold dust? Like actual gold?” He gave another nod, and she shook her head, shifting her gaze back to the cabinet, following one of the lines of gold as it trailed from the rim of a cup down through a red rose and over to meet another line that encircled the handle. “Sounds expensive.”

“But beautiful,” added Gold.

Their eyes met in the mirrored back of the cabinet, and Belle held her breath until he looked away and went on to explain how he came to find the set. It had been packed in newspaper in a cardboard box, set inside a bigger box marked FREE at an estate sale in Vermont. Most of the pieces were already broken or chipped in some way, but there were a few books he was interested in at the very bottom so he bought the entire lot. Months later, he came across the box again in one of the upstairs bedrooms, and had the idea to try his hand at repairing it in this way.

“So, you made this?” she asked, unable to suppress the surprise and wonder in her voice.

“Aye,” he said. His voice was low and very close to her ear, and she gripped the knot of the robe tightly. “I fixed all the bits that were already broken, filled in missing pieces with things I had laying around, and smoothed all the jagged edges with extra lacquer.”

Belle shook her head slowly. She couldn’t imagine the patience and care it must have taken to create something so unique and beautiful, particularly when it was incomplete. It was - pleasing, wonderful even, and once again she was struck by the strange dichotomy that was Storybrooke’s Mr. Gold.

“Is it - I mean can you actually, um, use it? Once it’s like this?”

He nodded, smiling crookedly. “The lacquer is made from the sap of a very specific tree, and the gold is dusted over it while it’s still wet and sealed inside, and once it’s all done and hardened, it’s perfectly safe to drink from. I’ve personally used that cup there.”

He pointed to the very cup Belle had been admiring, the one with the fine line splitting the red rose in two, and she smiled. “You made so much beauty out of something so broken.”

“Even chipped cups have some use, don’t they?”

His question surprised her, and she looked over to find him watching her, his expression as unreadable as ever. “I think,” she said, “that in this case the best teacup is chipped.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and abruptly, he turned and crossed the room to the same chair he’d taken before. Belle blew out a slow breath, her mind spinning and struggling to wrap itself around the sudden shift from their conversation to the purpose of her being here. It was as if her reply had struck a nerve, but she wasn’t sure how.

She heard the creak of the leather as he sat, and after a long moment, she turned away from the china cabinet and its precious contents, and walked to the end of the ottoman. She licked her lips as her hands went to the knot of her robe, and lifted her eyes to his. The end of the sash pulled free easily, the pressure on her waist releasing as the two sides of the robe slid open. She swore she heard his breath hitch, the slight little hiccup and inhale of air, but he otherwise remained completely still as she shrugged her shoulders, sending the robe shimmying down her arms.

It landed on the ottoman behind her with a muted wisp, and she took another step forward. The edge of the nightie brushed her thighs, reminding her of how short it was, and she felt a heat that wasn’t from the fire creep up her neck. She bit her lip as her hands came up to her stomach and then dropped to her sides, unsure of what to do with them.

Gold meanwhile was just staring dazedly at her. His head lolled slightly to one side and then straightened, as one might when observing the way the light illuminated a work of fine art. The thought was absurd, and she took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling against the lace.

“Mr. Gold?” she asked softly. “Would you - would you like a drink?”

The question brought him out of the odd trance he’d been in, and he shifted in his seat before meeting her eyes. “Yes, a scotch please, Miss French.”

She turned and made her way around the end of the ottoman, crossing between it and the fireplace, feeling his eyes on her all the way to the bar. She was so grateful to be out of the heat for a minute that even the cold floor felt nice on her feet. For some reason the room was much warmer tonight than it had been last night, and she thought maybe she should say something about finding a happy medium.

Drink in hand, she walked back to stand closer to his chair, and held it out for him. He lifted his hand from where it was resting to take the glass by the bottom, keeping a sliver of a distance between where her fingers were around the rim and his. In doing so, he caught the hem of the nightie, and when he pulled the glass away and raised it to his lips, the hem went with it. It lifted slightly, just enough to feel a light flutter of air against her legs when it settled back into place. She stepped back immediately, conscious of the fact that it may have been enough for him to glimpse the matching panties underneath.

A shiver washed over her despite the flushing of her face, and she crossed her arms over her middle, her upper arms pushing her breasts together. Gold’s eyes dipped down, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip, just before he touched the glass to his mouth. She caught herself pressing her thighs together unconsciously as he sipped and swallowed, and took another step back until a blast of warmth from the fire made her stop.

“Thank you,” Gold said simply.

His expression was blank, as if nothing had occurred between them at all, and she knew that she was once again dismissed. Once again the abrupt change in his demeanor unsettled her, but she couldn’t give voice to any of the questions in her head. Instead, she gave him a short nod, and moved to leave, pausing to snatch up the robe before she all but ran from the study.

The bathroom was like an odd little oasis when Belle returned to it. She sighed at the cool air wrapping around her, calming her heated skin, and leaned back against the closed door, breathing slowly. The kintsugi, the conversation, the way he looked at her, she could make no sense of it. Whatever this was about for him, she couldn’t keep letting it affect her. She had to think of this weird arrangement as a job, nothing more. It was something she was doing for money - a lot of money, mind - but a paycheck all the same.

She blew out a breath and changed back into her clothes, deciding to leave the lingerie on the hanger again. If he wanted her to keep the items, then he could say so. She was tired of guessing his reasons and desires for any of this.

Gold was waiting for her when she opened the powder room door. He was standing with his cane, leaning a bit to the side as if he had to put most of his weight on it to keep himself upright, and holding a glass storage container with a plastic lid. She frowned at it as she lifted her purse strap onto her shoulder, and then looked up at him.

“For you,” he said, holding the container out for her to take.

Her eyes darted down to the offering as she reached for it hesitantly. “Okay...?”

“It’s lasagna. That’s - that’s what I made for dinner. I thought since you hadn’t eaten...” He shrugged.

“Oh.” Belle took the container from his hand and stared down at the lid. She could see a large square of something inside, with hints of red and creamy white. The scent of food still lingered in the air, and her stomach rumbled loudly.

Gold let out a soft, short laugh, and shook his head. “It’s still warm, sort of, but I recommend putting the container in the oven and letting it come up to 350. That should heat it through.” He folded his hands over the handle of his cane, and then added, “With the lid off, of course.”

“Of course,” she repeated. Confused as to why he was giving her food, but pleased she wouldn’t have to make anything when she got home, she lifted her eyes to him. “Um, thanks.”

“No matter.”

He followed her to the door, holding her coat for her once more, and then bid her good night.

The walk home was comfortably cool, but smelling of fresh lasagna the entire way.

By the time Belle reached the door of her apartment, she was starving and had determined that this time the vague feeling of nauseous indigestion was from lack of food rather than anything that had transpired with Gold. He had been a gentleman about nearly everything, except for whatever those accidental brushes had been, and he cooked like he should have his own restaurant. The small touches were clearly accidental, and the odd sensation that came over this evening was easily ignored. If he did it again, she might consider saying something or changing her tactic of fetching his drink, but for now it was certainly more tolerable than half of the dates she’d had.

Garrett would have had his hand up her skirt in minutes, which was a thought that made her entire body cringe now that their relationship has ended so spectacularly.

As strange as it might seem, she was more intrigued by Gold than disturbed or repulsed. The story of the tea set was charming, and the fact that the person who could remake some useless, broken bits into something so pretty was the same as the person who offered her a deal to parade around his study in lingerie, left her head spinning. She wanted to know how that was possible, and thought that perhaps over the next few weeks she might find out.

He seemed perfectly willing to talk to her, revealing small clues here and there, but once he realized he had, he tried to close up again. She supposed some of that was part of how he maintained his enigmatic personality within the town, yet there was also the possibility that no one had ever bothered to take an interest in him before. Maybe he had no idea how to deal with that, maybe he had some of the same anxieties about social situations as she did, though in her case it had somehow turned into a peculiar ability to make friends easily. In his case it kept people at arm's length, much the same as his prim, fitted suits and colorful shirts portrayed a baffling combination.

She put the container of lasagna, sans lid, in the oven as instructed, and left it to warm up while she took a shower. This evening she didn’t feel dirty or uncomfortable, it was just the end of a long day and she was more than ready for a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. The lasagna was, as expected, fantastic. The cheese wasn’t too thick or stringy, and the mozzarella had been mixed with something else that gave it a sharper, more aged flavor. In place of plain ground beef he’d used some kind of sausage that was just spicy enough to leave a lingering heat behind, but not too much that it burned, and the notes of fennel blended well the spice. He had been heavy on the fresh garlic and basil as well, which were probably her favorite parts. She was prone to using a bit too much of them herself, and she smiled as she shoved the last forkful in her mouth.

She contemplated asking him to add dinner to the deal, but that would make the whole arrangement feel like something it wasn’t. They weren’t dating, they weren’t friends; it was just a weird business transaction, needs and wants.

She needed money, and he was providing. Though what Gold wanted from any of it would likely remain a mystery.

Gold leaned back in his chair as he savored the last bit of his second glass of scotch.

Belle had been less nervous this time, perhaps because he’d spoken to her about the tea set. He hadn’t intended to do so, but the way she was looking at it was - indescribable, like the way she might look at a painting or sculpture by one of the old masters, with a kind of curious awe. What she’d said about the chipped cup was incidental, he knew it was not some kind of metaphor or anything, even if restoring the set had been far more personal for him than he’d let on. She seemed quite pleased with his story, and he wondered idly what she might say if he put it up for sale in his shop. Would she want to buy it? Would she use the money he’d paid her to have it?

If he closed his eyes, he knew he would be able to recall the moment perfectly, the soft flutter of the rosy fabric as it fell from her arms, exposing more beneath it. The brief brush of those fingers against her, the hint of the lacy panties hiding under the skirt, the same precious pink as the rest of it, made him shiver. He didn’t think she’d noticed, or if she had maybe she had assumed it was an accident. It was, partially, but instead of pulling away when he’d realized what he’d done, he’d continued, waiting to see if she would move first. She hadn’t; he didn’t know what that meant.

The nightie had a teasing, innocent look to it, but it bared more than it covered. He’d gotten an eyeful of her skin, so creamy and soft looking, supple if it were pressed, and flushed the prettiest pink in the warmth of the room. He wondered how else he might make her blush like that, and shifted in his seat, uncrossing his legs as his own skin prickled with heat. He raised his hand, touching the fingertips that had touched her so briefly to his lips as his other hand moved to his waist, adjusting the pressure of his trousers and belt.

She had looked so beautiful tonight. Truthfully, she always did, but there was something about having her here, in his sanctuary, that made so much keener. A tingling throb twitched between his legs, and he gave in and pressed his palm to the front of his trousers, running the heel of it up and down his rapidly hardening cock. He couldn’t touch her again like that, couldn’t cross that line, no matter how much the image of her bare thighs tormented him.

Sighing, he forced his hand back to the arm of the chair and breathed slowly until his body calmed. As much as he wanted to take himself in hand and call to mind one of any number of fantasies, that was another line he couldn’t let himself cross. He was the monster they all said he was, in every way but that.

After a few minutes, Gold pushed to his feet, ignoring the lingering flush that crept up his neck and the ache low in his belly as he headed upstairs for another chilling shower.

( This is kintsugi. It's one of my favorite things and someday I too will have a tea set like in this fic. )

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Shielded. Chapter Four

Happy Sunday all, back to the usually scheduling this week. I hope you enjoy the next week of lockdown with Jamie and Claire <3 Mod MBD.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie: 

It does not matter what you bear, but how you bear it. [Seneca]

CHAPTER FOUR: WEEK TWO - Home and Away.

As Monday rolled around again, the weekend having passed by in a blur, Claire sat at the breakfast table with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. Having ventured down during the day on both Saturday and Sunday, she had hoped to bump into Jamie and pass on her thanks to his generosity but he had been out before sunrise each day and she had been asleep before he’d returned home.

Resolute, however, she chose to spend her day downstairs and hopefully get something on for dinner before he came back so she could at least start the week off right.

Fate, however, wasn’t on her side. By 10pm, with the lasagne tucked away, wrapped in foil, in the fridge, she covered her mouth with a yawn and pulled herself up the stairs to bed.

The crash and smashing of a glass bought her out of her sleep as the clock beside her bed clicked over to 3am. Pulling herself from beneath the sheets, she crept downstairs, eager not to scare him as she approached the kitchen.

“Couldn’t sleep?” She asked, knowing full well he had only just returned home.

He was stood by the sink, cold lasagna on the countertop and his mucky boots still on his feet. With the fork held to his mouth, he smiled as he took another bite of the pasta, chewed and then shook his head. “I havena ever been the best sleeper but it’s lambing season, aye? One of them got into bother and I couldna leave her until I knew she was safe.”

“And she made it?”

“Aye. I was luckier tonight than I was at the weekend.”

“Oh, dear...that doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s the job, I’m afraid. If I didna lose at least a handful a year I’d be shocked.”

It was the first real (and longest) conversation they’d had since she’d arrived and she was suddenly grateful for the company. He was calm, grounded and relaxed in the way a lot of city dwellers weren’t. She could tell in the slump of his shoulders that it didn’t matter how long and awkward his day was, how messy or how little sleep he had gotten the night before, he was still weightless almost, free of the constraint modern living brought to most.

“I wanted to say thank you,” she broke in, remembering the reason she’d half-blindly stumbled down in the middle of the night, “you’ve been so amazing - to get me materials for a garden, that’s...above and beyond the call of duty.”

“Ach,” shaking his head, he finished the last of his supper, balled the tin foil up and placed it in the bin, “dinna fash yersel’ about that. It’s no’ a problem.”

He was embarrassed, she could tell. Abashed, his accent had become incredibly thick and almost impossible to understand. But it was quiet enough here that there was no background noise to blot out his sentence and luckily she didn’t have to ask him to repeat himself.

“Well, nonetheless,” ignoring the slight reddening of his cheeks she continued, “I am very grateful to you. For everything.”

With nothing more to say between them, she waved, smiled and backed off, feeling strangely pleased with herself for breaking the silence between them. Hopefully, she thought as she climbed the stairs back to her room, there would be some evenings in the future when they could eat together and she could show her appreciation by making him something warm and fresh.

-- --

By mid-week, she had yet to see Jamie again. His work was intense, and yet, despite that, he had still managed to begin construction of her tiny garden.

In her haste she had forgotten that she wasn’t allowed outside the house and, as she’d watched the greenhouse foundations being laid, she had become almost inconsolable about the fact that she probably wouldn’t get the chance to tend to any of the produce grown in it.

She knew, however, that safety was more important than new hobbies and she chose, instead, to make detailed lists of the daily needs of each of the seeds and plants Jamie had procured for her.

She started with the tomatoes and grapes, which needed to be contained within the glass walls in order to collect enough light and heat to survive. She noted water levels, soil PH and balance and daily rituals which would need to be abided by in order for the best crop to be formed. It filled most of her days and when the sun went down, she’d swap her notepad for the computer as she researched all the differences she might see in her fruit and veg determined all by the way they were treated as they grew.

Though she had never been an artist, she started to search for youtube videos on how botanical art could be created. Having no coloured pencil crayons or watercolours, she stuck to pencil sketches and began to leave more post-it’s, this time with future predictions on what the garden might produce for the household.

Once again Jamie enjoyed coming home. There had only been a few days lapse in her communications but when he didn’t see her for days, it was the one thing he could rely on to buoy his spirits.

They were different, in so many ways, but on a subconscious level, he pondered to himself at night as he held the drawing of some rare cabbage in his hands, Jamie felt as if they had very many similar quirks. He’d been pleased that his idea to leave her be for as long as she needed had been a success and was grateful she felt at home enough to reform her life around his. Her asking for the garden made him realise how easy it might be for someone else to fit into his own life without causing him much grief.

It was only a small thing, but to him it had made a huge difference. Having lived alone for so long, he had almost forgotten how malleable people could be. Though, he thought as he rifled around in the fridge for more pre-made meals, he had probably just gotten lucky with Claire.

The thought also occurred to him that she had been inadvertently raised more suited to this life than her old one, but he didn’t know enough about her to advance on the notion.

It wasn’t until late on Thursday when they came face to face together. After another heavy day and late night, Jamie finally toe-ed off his work boots at nearly midnight and made his way, quietly, through to the kitchen.

He had not expected to nearly bump straight into Claire has she dished up what looked like a very tasty stir fry.

“I thought you might be sick of reheating pasta dishes, so I thought I’d try and wait for you this time.”

“Ye didna have to, it’s very late.” He scratched the back of his neck bashfully, even she couldn;t find the truth in his words and she smiled as she placed a fresh bottle of soy sauce in the centre of the table. “But this does smell delicious.”

“It’s taken me a few attempts to hone it, but I’ve been practicing most evenings this week to try and get it perfect, flavour as well as how long I need to cook the veg for.”

“What’s the meat?” He asked, watching as his stomach rumbled audibly.”

“I used the duck, I hope you don’t mind. I used chicken earlier in the week but I couldn’t seem to get it as tender as I wanted it and a few forums online suggested that duck might be a better substitute if I wanted meat with a bit more moisture.”

“Perfect. Use any meat you want from the freeze, for anything. Honestly, I forget most of the time what I’ve got in there.”

Placing several bowls filled with various meats, vegetables and sides, she went back to the sink to wash the remaining stickiness of her hands before beckoning him to start without her. “I had hoped you weren’t saving anything for a special occasion.”

“Ach, I think the virus has put pay to anything like that for a while,” he began, filling his plate with noodles, duck and beansprouts, “my sister - she lives in Canada now - had planned a summer visit, but we’re no’ sure of anything at the moment.”

“Is she the one in the photo,” Claire enquired, taking a mouthful of her own concoction and swallowing back the relief when it tasted nice - a mixture of sweet and savory that wasn’t as overpowering or as dry as it had been earlier on in the day when she’d made the first of the final tests. “The one with brown hair?”

“Aye, she is. Her partner, Ian, got a job out there a few years ago and they emigrated. We talk as often as we can on Skype and FaceTime but it’s become sporadic recently wi’ my erratic work hours. She’s a nurse, ya see, and works odd shift patterns too. But we try and keep in touch at least once a month.”

“Do you miss her?”

“I didna really think about it, we were close....until we werena. Then they moved away and I fell into a new routine.”

He had begun to speak without thinking, filling up the silence with answers to her questions as they ate in between conversation. He had, though, had the forethought to stop before giving too much away. The thought hurt his heart and he had to inhale between a bite of his dinner to gather himself back up. He knew, given time, that he would be alright with sharing his past (as he hoped she would be with hers) but tonight wasn’t the night for revelations.

Sensing his reluctance to continue, she moved on, understanding that she herself wasn’t in a place to open up about her own family life.

“I can imagine Skype is about the only way most are communicating at the moment.” Sighing, she started to collect the empty dishes and load the dishwasher. “I’m quite grateful, actually, that I don’t have anyone to keep in touch with. It’s all...quite scary.”

It was the first time Jamie had consciously thought about the pandemic, being cut off from the outside world had its benefits and he felt relieved that he could separate himself from the constant barrage of news that he supposed others would be exposed to. He realised that both he and Claire were unique now, part of a smaller section of society where being remote was almost a blessing rather than a curse.

“If you ever need to talk, lass,” standing, he helped to clean up the remaining mess from dinner, his hand almost brushing against hers as he wiped the countertop down, breaking only to hover for a second before returning to his job, “ye know where I am. Please dinna think you have nobody...if yer concerned, aye?”

“Thank you Jamie.” Pulling her fleece cardigan across her chest she walked slowly to the kitchen door, pausing for a second in the doorway just to make sure she’d left nothing out to go cold and mouldy overnight. “The same to you. I’m a good listener, I promise, if you ever need to talk, or if you need any help.”

She’d been thinking about his life on the farm for a few days now, watching the rolling hills out of her window, seeing the sheep and cattle on the horizon and -very occasionally- seeing the silhouette of him roaming his land. There was little she could do from indoors, she knew, but there had been chores around the house that she could potentially complete. Putting herself to task, she had learned new basic kitchen skills but only this morning she’d noticed the beginnings of a hole on the seam of his trousers as they dried on the rail in the courtyard and she thought it might be something she could tend to...should he be alright with it.

Leaving with the quiet settling calmly between them, she noted the relaxing of the muscles in his face as he smiled and nodded as she turned and carried herself to bed.

Resting against the faux-marble worktop, Jamie closed his eyes as he waited for the soft slam of her bedroom door before he followed her up. She just might, he thought to himself as he undressed himself, taking a towel from his radiator and making his way to the shower, be better equipped for this life than I am.

[withoneheadlight]

NSFW Anon here and I’ve come back w the most NSFW thing ever right, so like imagine this,,,, Steve and Billy being happy and content,,,, wow

Hey nsfw! anon💗💗💗. here I finally am!

First of all: this is the most amazing, most beautiful of asks🌟. Thinking about then happy and content, thinking about them having a FUTURE together is, the most non-safe thing ever, definitely not safe for the heart, in that way love is always a risk, a leap of faith, it's not safe at all. But I honestly think these two can fall on their feet at the end of the jump. I don’t think is gonna be easy, ofc. It’s not easy people we’re talking about. The jump is gonna last long. Sometimes is gonna feel like a freefall. That rage Billy has inside is going to be hard to deal with. For Steve, for himself. Things like that leave a mark, and being raised like that, learn that you have to bite to survive, that becomes an instinct, so it’s going to hurt, learn to live with that inside. And Steve-- having so ingrained that love is something you have to buy, a rent you have to pay without fail so people stay by your side, well, that ain’t easy either. And there are so, so many other things they’ll have to deal with. To learn. To understand (about themselves. about the other. about all the other people in their lives) so they can keep moving forward. 

But if I’m not gonna be a romantic in here where else could I be? xD So I believe love wins, haha, at the end. Lame as it might sound. I believe that because the more I think about these two the more alike I found them. The more I think they’re like two sides of the same coin, spinning, spinning, and sometimes, unexpectedly, the coin stops on its rim, it doesn’t fall: they realize the other gets them. They realize they’re looking in the eyes of that somebody that is gonna know. when they need it. Its gonna look at their eyes and just know. And that’s not gonna make it easier but-- its the thing that changes it all. 

It’s the thing that rescues them both.

And that’s the idea that fuels all my stories because my stories are, like, always the same? xD, something draws them apart. Something draws them back. And the thing is, I had always imagined them, like, moving together to a tiny, shitty apartment after that, after everything happens, after they’re finally together, and for good, that last time. But then, after the two month+ quarantine I spent at my own tiny apartment, I was lucky enough to move to my parent’s house in the country,  and I had spent almost all that time writing them in a  frenzy, so the moment I got there, with all that green and the trees and the fresh air I thought okok, the apartment is good but they’re gonna buy a house, at some point, they have to buy a house. So I started to write this messy hc that is like, mmm, an epilogue, for a lot of those stories, like a mash-up? future fic-ish-y thing, mixing parts of them all. Like: no matter what happens. Or how it happens. All roads lead to this future. To them coming back to the other like gravity. To them buying an old house with a backyard, and an ugly couch, and a strange-shaped kitchen, with them finding their place inside themselves and together and in the world. And if not their place at least some kind of peace (because, well, it's never that easy either, as we are as ever-changing as life itself is)

But, you know, a good future. Together.

So, here is a small piece of that, a bit messy and a bit tooth-rotting but, I’m writing this is basically to make myself happy so, no regrets xD. Also i hope it makes you a bit happy too, anon, as you have made me with this lovely lovely ask.

…...

The kitchen is Steve's favorite part of the house.

It has this odd shape. Trapezoid. “Fuck, Stevie, so goddamn weird”. Doesn’t make sense in a, on the other hand, perfectly rectangular house (or, well, it does, but they’ll only find out about that later). The cabinets are ceiling-high. The tiles of the wall white and cracked under the repeating pattern of light mint-green-stemmed, yellow-petaled lilies. The whole backdoor is painted on that same shade Billy calls Ripe banana dreams, both so terribly old fashioned and fiercely cute none of them say a word about repainting it. There’s a wooden piece, built into the farthest end of the counter. It looks disgustingly juicy and mercilessly stabbed when they move in, but Billy insists on keeping it, and sanding, and treating, and varnishing it. Manages to get it back up on shape because “Better than anyone, darling you should know what a little touch of class can make”. And for more than two weeks straight the only goal of his life is to learn to cut vegetables at high speed because "I have to live up to this level of professionalism. Impress our most un-impressionable guests"

(And, to Steve’s surprise –and probably hers– when she finally dings to pay them a visit his mom is, in fact, pretty much impressed)

He learns how to make good casserole. Tries his luck with Mexican and Italian. Fails miserably with Japanese. Will never-ever admit it, but he loves it when flour ends up staining every single surface, making the biggest mess around himself when he bakes. Steve knows why it is. It's a shared feeling. Floats up till it reaches the ceiling and bounces back down to them, heavy with the warm smell of cooking pie and cinnamon. Tastes docile and tamed like “Maybe not so much vanilla next time. Whaddaya think, babe?.” Tastes savage and daring, like the overwhelming tang of freshly squeezed lemon lingering on Billy’s tongue when he crowds Steve against the fridge and kisses him, bites a shuddering laugh out of him “How the fuck are you able to even think about putting your mouth near that thing, Hargrove?. That was––ugh. That was disgusting” “Well you know me, whatever it takes to make you squirm” leaving Steve with absolutely no option but lick the sugary dough stain over his cheek to “Cover up that foul flavor” and maybe because he likes to make Billy shudder too. It’s an ever-present feeling. Like the vivid smells of green tomatoes and parsley and mustard sauce. Like the sensation of Billy’s lips against his. The way he loses his breath when Steve kisses the sugary flavour into his mouth.

This place smells like home, tastes like home. Like finally, finally. Home.

It’s Billy’s favorite place, too. But Steve doesn’t think it's just because of that. But also because maybe,

maybe.

He has also noticed that--

There’s this particular, particular moment. It happens around seven on autumns, right when the day starts to fade. It happens between six and six past twenty-eight on winters, and holds the sleepy cheeks of the newborn tulips on Steve’s garden till they fall asleep on springs, sun already sinking behind the horizon by the time both hands of the clock meet over the spiraling infinity of the eight. And it grows bigger and bigger and bigger from there: the golden sunlight seeping through the wide, double-paned window facing the backyard at an oblique angle, making the yellow flowers of the tiles look like they’re re-blooming in gold. 

It's the moment the day turns into a fire. 

It’s their favorite moment in time. And in this particular, particular day of summer, it happens at ten past nine.

Billy is making Spaghetti carbonara. The kitchen is damp with the rich smells coming out of the boiling water. Mushrooms and oregano, black pepper and lime. A song is cooing at them from the radio, the beat of the drums a boneless memory of that one echoing around the quarry that last night at the end of July. Water rippling under the quiet sigh of the breeze. Trees cutting the liquid rays of light in asymmetric halves. 

Billy takes off the apron, lowers down the fire.

Reaches out to Steve, fingers wavering come, come, come.

To me. Come to me. “C’mon, Harrington. Are you afraid of me or what?"

He has this way of looking at Steve that makes the space between them narrow, narrow: the whole unknown world. And aseptic, non-lived-in flat in downtown Florida. This tiny, tiny town. A mysteriously-shaped kitchen–

“¿Can I have this dance?” 

Steve walks to him, takes his hand. 

––Their bodies, pressed flush. 

Inside his chest, Steve’s heart is running. 

“Can I at least have this dance, before we say goodbye?”

Mazzy Star was playing. The corner of Billy’s eye felt wet where his skin brushed against the corner of Steve’s mouth. They danced till the daylight faded, till there were teardrops falling from the night sky (“Billy, I don’t have to–-” “Don’t. Don’t, pretty boy. Don’t say it. I’ll make you stay if you do. And I can’t do that”), they made lovelovelove on the back of Billy’s car.

In this light they fell in love, they fell apart. Ran away. Ran back. 

Steve nudges at Billy’s chest, makes him move backwards till he’s far enough to tug, draw him in between their arms, hands intertwined. Steve curls himself around Billy’s back, nudges at the warm trapped between his curls. He smells like BillyandSteve, like this home, like past, like future. Like us.

Steve whispers in his ear. Three words. Billy’s neck curves towards him. An instinct. Tickled by their warmth. Steve kisses the curve of his ear. Tugs the collar of his shirt aside, bites where shoulder meets neck and up, up.

“Easy, Prom King” Billy teases, grins at him tender and wild. Knows when to use the one that gets Steve every time “Or you’re gonna make me think we’ll become picture perfect from this magical night onwards. A bunch of kids. White fences. You know, the whole shebang” 

Billy crashed the Camaro into a tree in the winter of two thousand and fourteen. Had left the house in a frenzy. Something had happened Max wouldn’t talk about. But she was scared, so she had called. When Steve found him, he was in the middle of the Brookville road, feet following the twin yellow lines, so weary, so impossibly small like this, head hanging, feet stumbling, surrounded by the tall shadows of the pines. Steve stopped the car at his side, engine oozing steam, shaking in the cold mid-May air “Billy” he said. Low. Careful. Careful. Billy’s eyes looked wet in the moon-silver night, pupils blown, deceivingly calm, “What are you doing? You know this is dangerous” And Billy had leaned in, forearms over the rim, had leveled with Steve. Looking wasted, looking tired, but still, he flashed a grin at him, teeth-shark white, not going down if he wasn’t going down swinging. And Steve hadn’t known at the moment, but the blood staining his cheek, the screaming-purple mark around his eye, those weren’t from the crush. “I was sleepwalking, Harrington" he said, voice dry, laugh harsh "Waiting for a stroke of luck"

“What does it make you think that’s not what I’m aiming for?”

When he took Billy to his house Max was already there, had sneaked out, white knuckles peaked with red around the handler of her bike “Neil will kill you if he finds out” Billy didn’t say it, but she read it on his eyes. And Max had called Steve. Called for help. So Steve took care of Billy’s face. Made him stay. Spend the night. Almost the whole next day, didn’t wake up till the hands meet over the spiraling infinity of the eight. Steve left him there. Retraced Billy’s steps down the Brookville road, following the yellow lines. The Camaro wasn’t done yet. Howled like a wounded beast under Steve's hands, but stayed together all the way to Donny’s garage. Steve paid for the repairs. Covered it all up. Two weeks later, Billy showed up at his door. Offered to teach him how to fight “I cannot give you back your money, but I know you don’t need that”

They spent almost the whole summer together. Some days. Most nights.

Wasting time. Fighting. Joking.  Driving. Fooling around.

No ‘what ifs’. No promises. Just,

“Leave the light on if you can’t sleep. If I manage to sneak out of the Old fuck, I’ll pick you up. I won’t stop kissing you until dawn”

Because Steve was gonna leave. Wasn’t going to throw a single glance behind his back. That was the plan.

And he did. He did. But––

He spins Billy out. Tugs him back. When their chests bump, his laugh explodes, bubbles up. Weightless. Happy. Because all that matters to him, to them, it’s between these four irregular walls now.

And God this, this, is Steve’s favorite part. 

–ended up coming back running, following the yellow lines. Hoping Billy was the one letting his light on this time.

Because the sun is gonna keep on shining. They can keep on dancing in here, in their weird, yellow, trapezoidal kitchen, for as long as they want. Hearts touching. Lips brushing. Bodies swaying, spinning, cutting through the golden light. 

[silveraccent]

Running From The Pasta || Grace & Connor

TIMING: After this solo, a week or so ago. PARTIES: @connorspiracy SUMMARY: Grace and Connor run into one another while Grace is covered in pasta sauce. They run into some rancid ghost vibes and make a break for it, but not until they reveal a bit of their traumas to each other. TRIGGER: Death, blood, minor car accident. 

Grace wasn’t sure what she saw. It couldn’t have been Renee. She wouldn’t let herself believe that it was. That was something else, bent and broken-- years of distance put between them, albeit forced, unnecessary, heart breaking. The farther she ran, the more angry she felt. What kind of cruel trick? Grace finally found it in herself to stop running, to sit at a bench, faded greens and silvers, the paint having been chipped away by years of wear and tear. The sky was still a deep violet, and the fog made it hard for her to see beyond five feet. It hung in the air, and Grace swore it would swallow her whole. She hung her head in her hands, the heels of her hands digging into her eyes. The smell of pasta sauce burned her nose, and made her feel sick. Taking a deep breath, she leaned back against the bench and stared up at the sky before she rounded her gaze to land on somebody-- a familiar face that she had seen online. “Connor, right?” She called to him as she glanced at the camera in his hand. “Are you filming this?” Though, could she blame him? It was unbelievable, the way the town looked right now. 

Strange things happening in White Crest was the norm. So much so that Connor wondered if they could even be called strange at all. Regardless, it was always a little alarming when a terrified girl covered in a sticky red substance runs past you, seemingly holding back sobs of fear. He followed a few steps as she half-collapsed on a bench, only realising when she pointed it out that he was still holding his camera. “I was filming the fog.” He closed his lens cap, crouching near her to get a better look. Now that he was closer, he could smell the overwhelming and almost putrid scent of tomato. At least it wasn’t blood. “I thought you were bleeding. Are you okay?” 

“The fog. Right.” Grace dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, a move to make what she had seen flit from her vision. She still couldn’t believe her eyes. She bit back another whimper mixed with tears as she looked up at him. “I’m not bleeding, no…” She looked down at her hands and wiped them against her pants, tomato sauce seen despite the dark clothes. “It’s pasta sauce.” She laughed, and she realized how stupid she now sounded. “I’m fine, I just… dropped something and it scared the shit out of me.” She looked up to meet Connor’s gaze. “I look weird, right? I mean, I’d prefer people think I’m running around covered in blood, not pasta sauce, because…” she trailed off. 

“Whoa, whoa, it’s alright, love. Slow down.” Connor stepped closer to her, taking a seat next to her on the bench. “Sort of puts all the weird shit in perspective when someone tells you they’d rather be covered in blood than pasta sauce,” he said with a slight chuckle, just trying to make light of a weird, difficult situation. “I think I have an overnight bag with some spare clothes in the car, if you wanna change…” He did his best to not make that sound creepy. “People have been talking about all sorts of weird things popping up and scaring them recently. If it helps, you’re not alone.” 

“Does it?” Grace let out a shaky laugh. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say. The joke would go over the heads of most. She leaned into the bench and looked over at him, her eyebrows pulled up at his words. “Am I not? Did something happen to you?” Grace looked down at her bag, its usual tan fabric now smeared red. She frowned slightly. She could still feel the burn in her eyes from her crying fit, but Connor’s general concerned nature overlapped her fear, and she let it. “I think I’ll take you up on the clothes change,” Grace nodded slowly. They’d be big on her, but she wasn’t ready to go home yet. She could go to the office, maybe. Sleep on her floor. She had an extra pair of clothes there. “If it’s okay.” She looked back over at him and offered a smile, though she wasn’t sure if it was genuine. 

“I mean, most people would just pick the other option, I think,” Connor answered with a little chuckle. He could tell this poor girl was really shaken up. “Come on.” He gestured for her to follow, leading her to his car, a spacious Land Rover Discovery. Luckily, he always had everything on-hand that he might need if he decided to have an overnight shoot, towels, dry shampoo, baby wipes, and spare clothes. He was a smaller guy, so the clothing wouldn’t be too out of place on her. “I usually lay the back seats down flat if I’m not driving with anyone so I can have all my equipment there, so there should be plenty of room.” He unlocked the car, handing her anything he thought might be useful, then closed the door most of the way and turned his back so she could change comfortably. “So… what happened, anyway?” 

Grace followed him reluctantly. At this point, she’s not sure if she’s stupid for trusting strangers, or if she has the ability to tell if somebody genuinely means her harm. It didn’t seem like he did. As they approached his car, she raised an eyebrow. It was nicer than anything she had ever owned. Youtube must have paid nicely, or maybe he was a rich kid with a dream. She glanced over at him for a moment, then looked down as he began handing over the things that she needed to successfully get rid of her tomato sodden clothes. “Oh, thanks.” She gave him a meek smile, her eyes still burning. She slid into the car and did her best to clean herself up. “Uh…” Grace mumbled as she pulled his shirt over her head. “You know all this fog? I think it’s doing something weird to my head.” Grace wanted to tell him more, but she was hesitant. He seemed to know a lot already. Once she was finished cleaning up, she slid out of the car, her dirty clothes crumpled into her tote bag. She tucked it to her chest and offered him a smile. “I saw an old friend who I shouldn’t have seen,” Grace said after a moment as she lowered her bag to her waistline, not wanting to smell anymore of the tomato sauce. 

Connor was respectful. He kept his back turned and made sure to give her plenty of room so she could change in private and not feel as if he was hovering over her shoulder. It was probably a little weird, inviting someone he didn’t know back to her car. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d turned him down. “Like, making you see things?” She wasn’t the first person to have said something like that. Some of his regular ghosts had reported being able to be seen by all kinds of people, then there had been the Fog Fish he’d seen with Ariana. “This might be a bit personal,” he started. “But the old friend. Is she… dead?” 

“Yeah, making me see things,” Grace said after a moment. She wasn’t sure what she saw, but she knew how it made her feel. Terrified, distraught, angry. She held the bag closer to her stomach, using it as a comfort item. She looked at him warily as he asked his question. Of course he knew, it was what his entire youtube channel was about. She cleared her throat and nodded. “Yeah, she is. Has been for awhile, so why--” Grace stopped for a moment. She didn’t want to ask why Renee would still be hanging around, or if whatever was happening in White Crest just.. No, there was no explanation. “Do you know what’s going on?” Grace asked him after a pregnant pause. “The truth, if you have it.” 

“I think we’re all seeing things.” In the distance, Connor heard the galloping of horses hooves. He lifted his head to see what looked strangely like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse run through a nearby intersection, chasing down some poor bastard on a bicycle. “Ghosts, non-ghosts, other weird shit…” He shook his head. “Isn’t that just another day in White Crest? I don’t know what’s causing it, but I know it’s not just you.” 

Grace looked up just in time to see the headless horseman. Grace’s eyebrows pulled together. That couldn’t be real, right? “That…” Grace bit the inside of her cheek. She wanted to believe it, that way it’d be easier. Things would be easier if she didn’t second guess it-- there was so much evidence already that this was all real. She swallowed thickly. “I guess you’re right, it’s everyone.” It was obvious that everyone had been dealing with their own issues, that they were being chased by what seemed to be their own fears. “Have you seen anything that’s for you?” She asked as she cut her gaze away from the horse. 

Connor couldn’t help but stare. Fortunately, the horses kept going, right on past the intersection, continuing to chase the person on the bike. He cleared his throat, swallowing the large lump that resided there. “Me?” He looked at her a little dumbly, as if he didn’t understand the question. “No, no. What would I possibly have to see?” And of course, fate saw fit to answer that question for him. 

“Connor! Con-man, you little bastard,” an older man with an almost indiscernible accent called from across the street, and Connor’s eyes widened. Uncle Joe. Wielding a massive fucking baseball bat. “You exorcised me? You really fucking exorcised me, you little shit? I oughta beat you black and blue.” 

“Get in the car!” He half-shoved Grace inside, pulling the doors shut and hitting the lock button as quickly as he could. Uncle Joe was fighting his way through traffic to cross the road and get to them, and glass shattered, filling the vehicle as Connor pulled away from the curb. “Shit! Are you okay?!” 

Things seemed to be changing quickly. Grace wasn’t sure if she was allowing for Connor’s inquisitive nature to rub off on her or not, but Renee was half-forgotten. Maybe it was the fact that she changed her clothes. Grace quirked an eyebrow and simply nodded. She wasn’t sure if she’d like somebody poking into what she had seen, though she had already opened up to it. Grace turned at the sound of yelling, however, and her eyes widened at the sight of a ghostly man, baseball bat in his hands. “Uh--” Grace said under her breath, but before she could react, Connor was pushing her into his car. She obediently followed his directions and threw herself into the seat, her bag falling to the floor of the car. “I’m fine--” Grace held onto the edge of her seat. “You said you didn’t have anything to see, I’m taking that wasn’t true?” She asked as she turned in her seat to look behind her as the ghost ran after them, yelling words she couldn’t quite hear.

“Well, I didn’t think I did have anything to see!” Bloody America and their cars on the wrong side of the road. Connor was still getting used to it at the best of times, never mind when he was trying to drive through thick fog with a spirit chasing him. “Fuck sake.” He narrowly dodged another vehicle whose fog lights seemed to be failing, and he prayed for his own to hold on. A gaggle of zoo animals seemed to have escaped and were having their own little fucking circus at the interchange, and Uncle Joe was still waving his baseball bat, chasing Connor at an impossible speed for someone on foot. “I hope your fucking seatbelt is on.” He took another turn, way too harshly. “It’s my Uncle. I exorcised him. Obviously he isn’t happy about it.”

Grace stared ahead, her heart in her throat. She had wanted quiet when she moved to White Crest. Not whatever this was. She could feel fear from Connor, maybe something else, too. Grace let out a yelp as a vehicle swerved towards them, but Connor was able to avoid it. “What in the hell--” Grace twisted to look out the side window, eyes widened at the sight of the animals. Her seatbelt wasn’t on. Grace quickly clicked it over her chest and held onto it tightly. “Obviously not.” Grace let out a breath as she braced herself, half-expecting the ghostly pack of wolves to interfere with them as they drove forward, but it went through the car and they continued on their way. “How are we going to get away from that?” Grace asked as she looked in the side mirror. Her voice sounded entirely too calm for what was currently happening. 

“Fuck! Bloody fucking hell--” Connor didn’t know where the hell he was going. He just knew that they had to get the hell out of there. He took another turn, as if randomly changing directions would confuse the spirit. He didn’t exactly want to lead Uncle Joe home, but that was the only place he could think to go. Grace was right. They couldn’t outrun him. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” Connor mumbled to himself. He closed his eyes, bringing the car to a stop. Uncle Joe swung at the wing mirror, sending it flying in smashed plastic over the side of the road. “You’re not real. And you tried to kill my dad,” he said, staring at the man. “I said I was sorry.” Before the apparition could say anything else, Connor reversed back, just far enough to adjust his angle and open the driver’s side door, smashing it into Uncle Joe’s face and sending him falling in a heap of his own blood. 

“What the fuck, you little bastard!” Uncle Joe gargled through his own blood. “I taught you everything you know. Everything you have is because of me! Your dad abandoned us.” 

“You tried to kill him! You almost broke his neck!” Connor yelled, now clutching the baseball bat Uncle Joe had dropped. This wasn’t fucking real. Uncle Joe was gone, and even if he was still around, no ghost would have that much blood for him to spill. “Now I… am trying… to get this poor girl home,” Connor grunted, collapsing in frustration against a nearby bench. “So would you kindly bugger off?” 

“You’re a little bastard,” Uncle Joe murmured from his position on the concrete, trying to get to his feet. “I never shoulda appeared to you, you know that? Your damn dad and my unfinished business. I shoulda let you think you were a fucking freak.” But he got up and started walking away, and Connor let out a heavy sigh, utterly exhausted.

Grace held onto her seatbelt as Connor came to an abrupt stop. She forced herself back in her seat and turned to watch as the ghost swung his bat, plastic shattering through the air. Grace leaned into her seat, away from the two. She watched in shock and terror as Connor began to speak. Something about his dad, had she heard that right? Grace swallowed thickly and let out a small yelp as she leaned into her own door, the car reversing, and then the car door coming into contact with the man’s face. Grace’s eyes widened at the sight. This couldn’t be real, could it? There was no way-- Connor had just, he had just killed somebody. 

No, she reminded herself. This isn’t real-- it’s real, but he’s not real, he’s already dead. A fear manifested by Connor, that’s how it had been explained. Grace watched as Connor took to a nearby bench. She was unsure of what to do, but the ghost was gone. She tentatively opened the door and rounded the front of the vehicle. “Are you okay?” She asked, voice shaky. 

Connor was barely aware of Grace approaching him, but he looked up as she did. He wasn’t much of a crier, but there were a few tears threatening to make an appearance. He pushed them back, wiping his face with his hands. “Yeah, that was just really bloody weird, you know?” He looked over the wrecked car. “No wonder insurance premiums are so high in this flipping town.” He stood up, climbing back in. “Come on. Doubt anyone’s going to pull me over for a broken mirror with all this shit going on. I’ll take you home.” 

Grace wasn’t sure what to say, she wanted to say something, but she wasn’t sure how to address it. She bit the inside of her cheek and simply nodded at his words, not wanting to push it any further. Of course she wanted answers, but things were strange enough without her prompting him for answers that it was quite possible he didn’t have. “Honestly, yeah.” Grace carded her fingers through her hair, her hand shaking slightly. “Probably not,” Grace said after a moment, following him back to the car. Once they were inside, she twisted to put her seatbelt on. A tiger, or maybe it wasn’t a tiger at all-- maybe it was something else, something unseen, began to devour Uncle Joe. Grace straightened forward, her gaze on the road. Maybe she would leave that out. 

[loveaurapearl]

Tiger Misanthropic (Part 2)

(Part 1: https://loveaurapearl.tumblr.com/post/190464582395/tiger-misanthropic-part-1 )

(Warning: Self-harm, violence, and mental break down in this comic.)

Tiger’s Eye entered Fish Stew Pizza and saw Kiki delivering a pizza to Amethyst, who was talking to Big Spike. “And then, boom! The Cactus creature exited our house and broke the front wall. Man, that was a crazy day,” Amethyst said to the Crab-like uncorrupted gem. Big Spike nodded. It seemed like the two hadn’t noticed the fusion yet. They froze up in tension. “Yeah. That does sound crazy.” Big Spike said with a softer voice than what Steven was expecting. Amethyst nodded as Kiki dropped off their pizza. “Yeah, but that’s not the worst part. It was what Steven said about the creature. You know those awful and weirdly personal insults Cactus Steven was saying to us and Steven, well, it turns out, it was just repeating what Steven was saying. Those were Steven’s thoughts and… Steven wasn’t nice to Cactus Steven until he realized what was going on. I’m… I’m worried about my little man. I think he’s bottling up his emotions, which is like, really weird since he kept saying to me and the other gems that bottling up the pain inside is really bad, and yet he’s doing it to himself. I… I just wished he would talk to us about what’s going on instead of pretending everything’s fine. I don’t want him to hurt himself. Also, it’s super frustrating that he’s mad at me for acting mature! HE was the one who praised for being like this and said I was the most mature one out of the Crystal Gems. I thought he liked me being mature and not pushing him to be like his mom or like the diamonds.” Amethyst said, surprising Tiger’s Eye.

The fusion gritted their teeth in anger, but before they could say anything, Kiki popped into the conversation. “Maybe he’s just jealous of you. I would too if I had to be siblings with you. I mean, your GHEM project worked really well while his attempt to add to it just burned to the ground… literally, there was a Ruby on fire, so his plan burned down in front of him. I heard Little Larimar is happy in Funland and that was… kind of Steven’s idea, but all the other jobs were a failure. That would bring down one’s confidence.” Kiki said as she tried to explain it from Steven’s point of view. Tiger’s Eye felt embarrassed, but they also wanted to laugh at the failure. Amethyst sighed. “Yeah, but it was Steven who made the mess. The program was running fine, but he suddenly wanted to get his hands all over it. Even HE doesn’t know why he wanted to ‘fix’ my program. I… I just wish he would talk to us so we can help figure this and his future out.” Amethyst said in a sad tone. Guilt filled Tiger’s mind as they looked at the scene. “Maybe Steven acted that way because he’s a Diamond. They were made to be rulers. Perhaps his programming couldn’t let go of that, even if it’s for something as small as a mentorship. He became the leader of the Crystal gems, he was running little Homeworld for a long time, and his diamond is technically on top of the new Diamond Authority Symbol. It kind of fits.” Big Spike said, hoping what they said made sense. Tiger’s eye looked at Steven’s gem and then held their stomach.

Amethyst raspberried the idea. “What? No way. Big Spike, I love ya, but that’s kinda stretching it. I mean, it kind of fits, but it also doesn’t. Steven isn’t like the Diamonds. Maybe he has control issues, but other than that, he’s nothing like them. He’s sweet, and caring, and kind, and cares about his friends and family. While other Diamonds are getting better at interacting with other gems and organic life, they still have a LONG way to go before anyone can trust them. So, don’t worry about it.” Amethyst said. Her words helped cheer Tiger’s Eye up, causing them to let go of their stomach area. Big Spike chuckled. “Yeah. That is true. You know him better than anyone else, you would know that.” Big said. Amethyst agreed. “Anyway, I should be helping out the customer who came in. They’re probably getting impatient with me talking to you guys.” Kiki said. The two gems agreed, and Kiki turned towards the fusion. “Sorry about that. Just catching up with my one of favorite customers and one of our new employees. Anyway, how… wow… Steven is that you fused with someone!?” Kiki blurted out, catching the two gems and the other people in the restaurant's attention. “Wow… Steven, YOU FUSED WITH JASPER!?” Amethyst yelled as she got out of her chair and rushed over to the fusion. Tiger’s Eye chuckled nervously. “Y-yep. I sure did. We…Steven just wanted to show Jasper what it was like to be in a fusion that doesn’t hate her guts or was a corrupted monster.” Tiger said although they were uncomfortable.

“Wow, that’s super neat. What’s the Fusion’s name and pronouns. After learning Rainbow 2.0 used male pronouns, we got to make sure we don’t misgender you.” Kiki asked as she got out her phone and took a picture of the fusion. Tiger rubbed the back of their head in embarrassment. “Well, it’s Tiger’s Eye. We use they/them, she/her pronouns. We already learned what our fused weapon would look like thanks to Ronaldo and Peedee and Steven already showed Jasper what’s it like to eat thanks to some fry bits, but we’re still hungry. We were hoping to have a Garden salad here and a glass of water.” Tiger’s Eye said. Kiki nodded. “One salad coming up.” She said then went back into the kitchen. “Yo, Tiger’s Eye, why don’t you sit with us?” Big Spike offered. Tiger’s eye looked around, then shrugged. “Whatever.” She said as she and Amethyst took a seat. “So… how much about our conversation did you hear?” Amethyst asked although she looked a bit ashamed.

“Around when you mentioned Cactus Steven breaking out of my… Steven’s house. So… that’s how you feel about me… I mean, Steven.” Tiger stated kind of coldly. Amethyst groaned. “Sorry about that man, but it’s the truth. You’ve been kind of acting strange. Although, was what Kiki said true and you’re jealous of me?” Amethyst questioned, kind of flirty at the end. Tiger’s Eye blushed in embarrassment. “W-what? Of course not. I’m not jealous of you. I… I just don’t know why I said that stuff about you and the other gems to Cactus Steven. I…We’re fine.” Tiger said as to try and change the conversation. Amethyst sighed then looked at the pizza, which was a mess of mushrooms, pepperoni, and a big fish. “So, Bismuth told us that you went to talk to someone about how you feel. Turns out it was Jasper. Were you able to figure out both your feelings? Do… you like me, Sis?” Amethyst asked, hoping to talk to Jasper. Tiger looked at her and sighed. “We don’t know. We feel better now, but we still don’t understand our feelings, earth, or why Steven likes weird gems like us. Our head and heart are still just… jumbled. I don’t even know why you even want to accept Jasper as your Sis.” The fusion asked, unsure about everything.

“Well, Jasper and Steven fused into you, I thought, maybe Steven did get to her. Maybe she stopped being such a jerk and wants to improve. Maybe, she tolerates me now. I did offer my hand to get closer to Jasper when she uncorrupted. I don’t WANT to hate or even dislike Jasper, but it’s kind of hard not to dislike her when she’s being so stubborn. Man… saying my feelings like this is so weird, especially since I know Jasper is here, she’s just part of something much bigger.” Amethyst said, feeling really awkward. Big Spike agreed, she felt awkward as well. Tiger held themselves and thought about how the last few hours. “Honestly, let’s just wait until we have a better understanding of our feelings and about this planet before we say anything definitive,” Tiger stated. Amethyst and Big Spike agreed, saying that this was fair. Soon Kiki came out of the kitchen with a plate of lettuce, tomato, zucchini, and garlic with ranch sauce and a glass of water. “One Garden Salad, ready to eat and here’s your drink.” She said then placed the plate and glass on the table. The fusion looked at the food and felt a deep sense of annoyance at the food. “That’s what a salad is!? It’s just those green earthlings I pluck out of the ground! If you were that hungry, we didn’t eat some of those things instead of going in here. Ugh… Jasper, I told you, that was grass. And no, this is not the same as grass. I’ve tried grass with Peanut butter and let me tell you that this is WAY more enjoyable than grass. Ugh… I why should I care about their names. It’s not like it even matters. Besides, why can’t I just eat some of whatever Amethyst and Big Spike are eating. Because I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat, and only sometimes do I eat fish. Now stop fighting with me and let’s just eat.” Tiger argued with themselves, their voice shifting to show which one was in charge. The fusion reached for a fork, but their dominant hand suddenly stopped.

“Huh?” They let out, before getting angry, “Why should I care about this, veg… whatever thing you talk about? Why are you limiting what you eat to these green earthlings? Because I like them, I don’t want to hurt any more animals by eating meat, and I can get the nutrients I need without needing to eat meat. Then how come we have memories of you eating this stuff before? Hey! Don’t do that! These are my personal memories! Well, you should have blocked them off more securely because I can still see them! So, what changed!? Why you do suddenly want to be like this? What? Because I realized that I could change. I realized that since I’m an adult, I don’t need to worry about what I can and cannot eat if I get the proper nutrients. Oh, really, then how come it feels like you’re not telling me the truth.” Tiger argued with themselves, or rather Jasper was interrogating Steven. Everyone looks at them in confusion and curiosity. “Steven, are you okay?” Big Spike wondered. Amethyst was more direct. “Jasper, if Steven wants to eat Vegetables, let him do so. It shouldn’t matter why he changed his diet. Why do you care so much?” She asked, annoyed at the other side of the fusion.

“Because I will not let rest until this boy confesses his feelings! He’s been pushing me to talk about me, about how I feel, about how I should change and fit in with his society, and stuff like that! But then he breaks down, crying at my feet about these feelings he’s been hiding and now, now he’s hiding them again! I will not let him manipulate me into forgetting this pain! I will not rest until he stops acting like a hypocrite. It’s not logical… it… doesn’t make any sense.” The fusion said, shifting her voice to sound more like Jasper but suddenly her voice changed to one that was soft, cold, and shift. It didn’t sound like the voice was from Steven or Jasper, and Amethyst and Big Spike didn’t know who Tiger’s Eye really was, so they didn’t know if this was Tiger’s Eye personality coming out. Amethyst put a hand on their arm. “Hey, it’s going to be alright. Steven, if Jasper and Tiger’s Eye care about this much, you should tell them.” Amethyst said in a caring tone. The fusion sighed and looked at their plate. “Alright… I’ll tell you. The reason I became a Vegetarian is all that stuff I said before, but… it’s also because this is the ONE thing, I know I can control, and not mess things up. My life has suddenly spiraled out of control, and I don’t know how or why. I don’t know how to deal with this or how to make things right, so… I decided that I needed something to help balance out these feelings. That’s when I made a realization and decided to become a vegetarian. I’ve been kind of hiding my own feelings from myself because I didn’t want to admit I’ve lost control. Especially in front of my family and you Jasper.” Tiger’s eye said, Steven’s personality shining through.

The fusion laughed, although it was a sorrowful laugh that made people uncomfortable. “So that’s why. You truly are something, Universe. Alright, if it makes you feel better, we’ll eat this salad. I just wanted you to confess these feelings, that’s all. …Really? Yeah.” Tiger’s eye talked to herself as they grabbed the fork. Big spike and Amethyst smiled. “So, you feel better?” Big Spike asked. Tiger takes a few bites of their food and then drinks some water. They thought about it for a few seconds and nodded. “Yeah. I do. Man, it feels great having that load off our chest.” Tiger’s Eye stated. Amethyst nodded and the group began eating their food.

The purple gem began to think of something then looked at the fusion’s tail. “Oh yeah, I am thinking about this, but since we had more things to talk about, I didn’t have the time to ask this, but… I was wondering why you had a tail. I mean, I get everything else about your form since Jasper had those bits of corruption on her, but I wasn’t expecting you two to have a tail, let alone one like that.” Amethyst said as before she finished eating some of her pizza. Tiger takes a drink of water. “Honestly, we have no idea why we have this other than this could relate to a possible form that Steven would have if he somehow became corrupted. But obviously, that can’t happen since… well… how are we supposed to heal ourselves if we’re corrupted? I mean, Steven’s gem is one of the main ingredients in turning corrupted gems back to normal. If he gets corrupted… I don’t know what we would do… But… but we are not corrupted, this is just hypothetical.” Tiger said, a bit nervous on the subject. Amethyst nodded. “Yeah, that is a pickle. But that won’t happen since the diamonds are on our side, so another corruption wave is never going to happen. Speaking of corruption, we’re almost a third of the way done healing the corrupted gems, Big Spike! Isn’t that awesome!” The purple gem creature said. The crab-like gem smiled. “Yeah! I can’t wait for everyone to be healed!” She said with excitement. Tiger’s eye agreed although they did feel a bit… lonely. The group soon finished up their meal. “Welp, I should get back to work.” Big Spike said then got up, heading back to the kitchen. “Bye!” The purple and golden-brown gems said.

The two soon left the restaurant and take a seat at Beach City’s resident bench. “So, how’s it like being you, Tiger’s Eye?” Amethyst asked as they lazed about. Tiger looked up at the sky and sighed. “Honestly, it’s… stressful. It feels like every minute or so, Jasper and Steven are in an argument, crying, or having a meltdown. We haven’t had a good chance to really find ourselves. It… honestly kind of sucks and people keep staring at us. We… I don’t want to be seen at just the two of them arguing.” Tiger said, feeling ashamed they had to say that. Amethyst put a hand on their shoulder. “You shouldn’t need to do that. Steven, Jasper, it’s alright for Tiger’s Eye to say what they want to say and to use I and myself pronouns to refer to themselves. They shouldn’t feel pressured not to have their own voice. Also, try and ease up on the inner fighting. Tiger is suffering because of you two, and I don’t want them to feel like they can’t handle being together.” Amethyst said. This caught Tiger’s attention. They were not expecting her to say that. They take in a deep breath. “Yeah… yeah. I guess Steven forgot to tell me that. And Jasper… the only fusion she knows properly is Malachite, so she’s not used to using these pronouns in a fusion when she’s not in charge… Maybe Steven does have control issues.” Tiger said, feeling not so great about themselves. Amethyst ruffled their hair. “Hey, man, it’s going to be okay. Now that you confessed the problem, you can be whoever YOU, Tiger’s Eye want to be. So… what do YOU want?” Amethyst asked. Tiger’s Eye let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, I haven’t thought about it yet. I don’t know what I want exactly. Oh! But we are going to the wrestling match tonight at 8! It’s going to be great! Wanna be Purple Puma like old times? We could tag team!” Tiger asked Steven’s friend with excitement. Amethyst looked at the fusion with disappointed eyes. “Aw man, I would love to, but I gotta go help the Crystal gems rebuild the house. Maybe some other time. Welp, I gotta get going before Pearl notices I’m gone. I’ll tell everyone about the match, maybe if we finish up early, we can at least watch you fight. Oh, and remember, you can’t say as Tiger’s Eye for too long, otherwise bad things will happen.” Amethyst said as she got up. Tiger blinked and looked down. “Oh… okay. See you later.” Tiger said. Amethyst ruffled their hair. “Don’t worry about it, champ. You’re going to do great. Welp, see ya!” Amethyst said, then walked away. Tiger sighed and then looked at Steven’s phone, it was around 3 o clock. It would a good while before the event would start.

The area around them became darker. “Maybe… maybe we should unfuse and just forget about the match. Wait… what? It was your stupid idea to go and now you don’t want to do it anymore because that twerp refused to go with you. But we’re hurting Tiger’s Eye. They don’t know who they are or what they want. We keep arguing with each other like Malachite and I’m getting sick of it! I… I don’t want anyone to suffer because of me. Then maybe you should back off then! You’ve been pushing down Your ideals onto us and not letting both of us do what we want! Not to mention, you’re the one who reached out to me! You said you wanted to fuse and release this rage inside us, but you keep trying to force us to deal with your feelings. Maybe this was just a ruse to manipulate me into obeying you! What? I… Ugh! ENOUGH!” Tiger yelled at each other. Tiger took in a deep breath and look at the phone. “Steven, Jasper… I’m tired of this. I’m tired of dealing with your problems. Of feeling this way. Of us fighting. I don’t want to fight you… I want to fight other people. So, what if people think we’re rude? So, what if someone thinks we’re a ‘snerson’ or ‘corrupting’, we’re not? We’re fine, we’re together, we’re Tiger’s eye. I want to enjoy these human delights. I want to go to this arcade and play video games. I want to go to this arena and fight people. So please, let me full fill what you want. That way, maybe we can get along,” Tiger’s eye said as she starched her right arm, she could feel a pain coming from that area as she gripped harder. Tears flowed her eyes as she lets go of her arm. The pain disappeared and she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah… you’re right. I… I do want to fight in the arena. I do want to be Tiger’s Eye. I… I was just upset that I couldn’t be with Amethyst since… it was her that got me into wrestling. I used to have so much fun as Tiger Millionaire in the ring to help Amethyst feel better. When she gave up her title, I gave up on wrestling for a while. I tried to get back into the ring myself, so I changed Millionaire into Tiger Philanthropist. However, I became so worried about pleasing people, I lost sight of why I loved to wrestle, and people didn’t like me anymore. They… they thought I wasn’t being true to myself. And… I gave up on wrestling until now. And… ugh… I guess I have been too pushy. I haven’t been allowing myself to enjoy the earth. I’ve been keeping the brat in line so he wouldn’t embarrass me, that I haven’t let myself do what I want, which is to fight!” Tiger said, their voice switching between the higher voice, lower voice, and regular voice. The fusion chuckled and put the phone away. “Yeah… Well, since we have time before the match, I want to play in the arcade place. I know just the game to play.” They said then got off the bench.

They soon went over to Funland’s arcade and through a montage, showed the fusion playing various video games, Whackerman, and hitting the ‘hit me’ mannequin. They grab all the tickets they had gathered over their time and walked over to the counter. “Ah, so you’re the fusion of Steven and this Jasper gem. I’m just glad you didn’t destroy my machines. I don’t want to ban you, too.” Mr. Smiley said as he grabbed the tickets. Tiger’s Eye chuckled awkwardly and then smirked. “Well, that’s because of us… I am entering the wrestling ring tonight. Gotta save all my strength for then.” They said with confidence. Mr. Smiley smiled widely. “Ooooh, a contender. It’s been a long while since I last someone like Steven enter the ring. But you’re not the only gem entering the ring tonight. I got two quartz gems already talking to me about tonight. It’ll be interesting seeing you enter the ring, just remember, don’t break anyone’s bones or gems. I don’t want to get a lawsuit. Also, to have fun but mostly just don’t break anyone’s bones or gems.” He said, keeping his smile even when they could see he was sweating out of fear. Tiger nodded. “Anyway, was there anything here that you wanted in exchange for these tickets?” Mr. Smiley asked. The fusion looked at the collection of items available. Suddenly they noticed a black cat mask. “That one.” She said, but it was cold and stiff again. “Um… sure.” Smiley said then grabbed the item. He gives it to them. “You still have, oh, 100 tickets left. Is there anything else you want?” He asked. The fusion looked at the lower shelf and then shocked its head. “No.” They said, but it was in the stiff voice again.

“Um… okay. I’ll just keep these tickets for now. See you in the ring!” Mr. Smiley said. The fusion nodded and then grabbed the mask and exited the area. Tiger put the mask into Steven’s coat pocket and looked at their phone. It was almost 7 o’clock. “I should be on my way to the building… Hey Tiger, are we okay?” Tiger said, stopping herself. Tiger blinked and shocked her head. “Um… yes. Why do you ask… um… me? Well, because we were kind became kind of cold to Mr. Smiley. Yeah… I… I guess my head is becoming a bit fuzzy for staying in this fusion for so long… do you want unfuse, even for a little? Do you… no… I... I don’t want to unfuse. But I’m saying this so if you want unfuse, we can.” Tiger talked to themselves, then chuckled, “No. I’m doing fine. I… We just need to wait a bit more. Once the wrestling match or whatever is over, then we can unfuse. Yeah… yeah. It’s just… so nice being me. No more Steven complaining about his life, no more Jasper butting into every conversation even if it’s unwarranted. I’m just… me.” Tiger said to themselves, “And soon, the world will see what I am like.”

(Later, at the abandoned warehouse.)

Tiger’s Eye smiled as they put on the mask they bought. It was like Tiger Millionaire’s mask, but it was black with a pink nose. They put their hair into a small ponytail, similar to how Amethyst used to do it. And with a confident stature, entered the building. There was a huge scene surrounding the ring. There wasn’t anyone they recognized so far, but there were a lot of people. Tiger soon noticed Peedee and Ronaldo standing near the ring. They cheer as one guy, who was dressed as a waiter, was knocked out by another man who was dressed as a construction worker. “Hey, Peedee, Ronaldo, I’m here,” Tiger said as they approached the two. The two brothers turned around. “Ah, Tiger’s Eye, there you are. How are you? Did you find yourself?” Peedee asked. Tiger smirked. “Yes, we have. And now, I can say I’m Tiger’s Eye. Anyway, I’m gonna get registered to fight.” Tiger said. Ronaldo and Peedee nodded. Tiger went up to Mr. Smiley. The man noticed them and smiled. “Ah, a ‘new’ challenger. Are you ready to enter the ring?” He asked. Tiger chuckled. “I was born ready.” They said as they signed their name onto the sheet. “Okay, now go get them,” Mr. Smiley said. Tiger jumped onto the stage. “Alright! Let’s give it up to our new Challenger! Before the match starts, why don’t you introduce us to yourself, mystery challenger?” Mr. Smiley said. Tiger’s Eye stood proudly as they looked upon the ground. They saw two more familiar faces in the crowd, Big Spike and Kiki.

“Hello, earthlings, I’m Tiger Misanthropic. I was just a poor little snake, born alone and on the streets. Tiger Philanthropist adopted me with his wife Mrs. Sea Dragon, with Tiger Philanthropist gave me the Tiger title. He thought he could raise me to be a good, kind lady, but… times went hard when nobody began buying Tiger Philanthropist items. Father and mother began arguing over and over and over. About humans, about the world, about all the horrible things in life… now I see that humans aren’t worth it. All I ever do is give and give. I give to the gems, I give to the humans, and what’s my reward? Emptiness? I give everyone my hard work, to be what I was assigned to be, and they shove my feelings aside so they can live in this new world without me. They abandon my father, they force my mother to bicker and squabble with him, and I… I have no place in their world. Nobody wants me. Nobody cares about me… DO YOU KNOW WHAT!? Why should I CARE ABOUT YOU!? I’m going to do what I WANT AND I WANT TO FIGHT! I WILL WIN THIS BELT AND RESTORE THE HONOR OF TIGER PHILANTHROPIST! SO, LET’S GET THIS EVENT ROLLING!” Tiger’s Eye yelled. The crowd cheered, thinking what Tiger said was just some made up back story. “Such a shame that Tiger Philanthropist has gone down that road, but if we see get to see their daughter in a cool fight, then I guess it was worth it,” Kiki said to Big Spike. Big Spike shrugged. “I have no idea, what they’re referencing.” She said.

The bell rings and the two opponents looked against each other. The construction worker ran back and tried to use the ropes to bounce into his opponent but the fusion dodges the attack and grabs the guy by the feet and slams him to the ground. The man gets up and rushed towards the fusion. Tiger’s Eye smirked as the man grabbed their tail. They swiftly swung the tail to the left, the sudden movement throwing the man into the middle of the ring. Tiger quickly punches him in the face, knocking him out. The next few rounds were just as quick and easy. Tiger’s Eye roared in rage as the coward booed them. The fusion held their head. The world was starting to become darker. “I… I can handle this. They don’t matter. I matter. I’m going to win this. I’m going to be happy.” They told themselves. They soon had another four rounds of humans, the fights ending as easy as the previous humans. The crowd became angrier. “Boo! You stink Tiger whatever! These fights are way too easy for you!” Ronaldo yelled. Peedee sighed. “Yeah, it’s just like when Purple Puma was on stage,” Peedee said. Tiger’s Eye began shaking. “I’m… I’m almost to the end. I… I’m almost towards the end, and I still feel empty. I… I need a challenge. I need someone strong enough to battle me! So, who’s left!? Who’s willing to face me!?” Tiger’s eye yelled, their anger building up more and more. Soon Zebra Jasper and Ocean Jasper jumped onto the stage. “That’ll be us!” Ocean Jasper said. Tiger’s Eye then remembered the Ocean Jasper was the one who Jasper fused with to become corrupted. Their breath quickened as the painful scene replayed in their head. “Oh, it’s our tag-team duo for the night, the Jaspers! Let’s see if they can win this round and retrieve their prize.” Mr. Smiley said, however, that didn’t stop the nightmare going on in Tiger’s head.

“Hey, are you okay? Cause, if you’re not, we’re going to kick your butt into next week!” Zebra Jasper yelled, at first worried, but it soon turned into a competitive banter. Tiger’s Eye snapped out of the flashback and growled. Ocean spin dashes towards Tiger while Zebra used the ropes to have a buildup. Tiger spin dashes her way out the spin dash as Zebra bounced towards Tiger. Tiger is knocked out of the spin dash and laughs. She then gets up and began to punch at Zebra. The Jasper dodged the first few blows, but then Tiger surprised her by using her tail to sweep her legs. Tiger was about to punch Zebra, when she felt someone grab her tail. It was Ocean Jasper. Tiger roared and swings her body, throwing Ocean into ropes. Tiger turned towards Zebra, but she had moved behind the fusion and grabbed their back. The fusion grunted as they struggled to get out of the hold. “Now’s your chance, Ocean!” Zebra yelled. Ocean Jasper got up and rushed towards the two with a fist ready to punch. Thinking quickly, Tiger’s Eye bites into Zebra’s arm, causing her to flinch enough to lose enough control for Tiger to swing Zebra over her shoulders and into Ocean Jasper. They grunt as they hit each other. Tiger’s Eye laughed. “Oh, could this be the end of the Jaspers?” Mr. Smiley asked. But in that brief moment of vulnerability, the two Jaspers got up and punched Tiger in the chest at the same time! The fusion flew back and fell to the ground. They clutched their chest and coughed. The two Jaspers smiled and high fived themselves as the crowd cheered. “One, two, three.” Mr. Smiley began to count as Tiger struggled to get up. “No. I… I can’t lose… I… won’t lose. I’m better than them… I’M BETTER THAN EVERYONE!” Tiger yelled, then got back up. Mr. Smiley stopped the count at seven. “Tiger Misanthropy’s up! She’s back up, guys.” Mr. Smiley announced causing the crowd to boo. The Jaspers got ready as Tiger’s Eye rushed towards them. Suddenly Tiger rushed to the left of the Jasper and pushed herself against the ropes. Before the Jaspers could react, Tiger flung themselves into the Jaspers, hitting them in the jaw. The fusion slid as they stopped themselves from going any further than they needed.

The two Jaspers fell to the ground. Tiger’s Eye laughed as she walked over to them, but it was deranged as Mr. Smiley counted to ten. The two gems grunted as they tried to get up. Tiger quickly used their tail to swipe both Jasper to the ground. The crowd booed at the fusion as Mr. Smiley counted to ten. “That’s it! Tiger Misanthropic, won!” Mr. Smiley said, although he looked uncomfortable. This angered the coward even more as the booed harder. “Get off the stage, Tiger’s Eye!” One random person yelled. The fusion gritted their teeth and punched Ocean Jasper in the jaw. “E-enough, please. You’ve already won.” Ocean Jasper said as to try and back down the fusion. “No. This isn’t over. I still need to fight and you’re the only ones who gave me a good enough show. I WANT to keep fighting. I… I want them to stop booing me! Why? Why do they cheer for clearly off-colored gems like you? I’m BETTER than you! I’m better than EVERYONE! I’m the perfect Quartz! I’m a DIAMOND! And yet, they still boo at me! They call me worthless! WHY!? WHY AREN’T I GETTING WHAT I WANT!?” The fusion asked, their mind fuzzing in rage. Ronaldo stepped forward to the front of the crowd. “Because humans don’t like jerks, Snerson! We don’t like it when matches are so easy, there’s no doubt who’s going to win! Would Ultimate Magical Girl Packo be as great as she is if she just won every fight she won? NO! Because that’s boring! Struggling is real! Even if you have a great tragic backstory, if you don’t give us a good fight, how do we even know if you went through it. It’s what gives wrestling… no… ALL MEDIA their worth! But you Sneeple don’t see it that way! You just want to cause wars and in battles for amusement!” Ronaldo yelled. Peedee facepalmed himself. Tiger’s Eye stiffened as their eyes were covered by shadow and they clutched their fists. “You don’t think I know what suffering is?” They said, then turned to the crowd, their eyes cold and lifeless.

“MY ENTIRE LIFE HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT SUFFERING! SINCE THE DAY I’VE CAME OUT OF THIS PLANET, I’VE BEEN CLAWING MY WAY TO THE TOP! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT I’VE BEEN THROUGH! I HAD TO SHATTER MY FELLOW GEMS! I HAD TO FOLLOW YELLOW’S ORDER EVEN WHEN I WANTED TO GET REVENGE AGAINST THE EARTH! I HAD TO WITNESS PINK FAKE HER OWN SHATTERING, MAKING EVERYONE THINK SHE WAS DEAD! I HAD TO LISTEN TO EVERYONE’S PROBLEMS! GARNET! AMETHYST! PEARL! I HAD TO FIX THEM! I ALWAYS HAD TO FIX ROSE’S MISTAKES! AND WHEN I DISOBEY, I GET TRAPPED IN THE TOWER WITHOUT ANY LIGHT! I WAS TRAPPED IN MY ROOM, ALONE, WAITING FOR THE GEMS TO COME BACK! NOBODY EVER LISTENS TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY! NOBODY CARES WHAT I HAVE TO CONTRIBUTE! I’M A DIAMOND! I’M JUST AS IMPORTANT AS EVERYONE ELSE AND THEY DON’T EVEN CARE! AND JUST WHEN I THINK I COULD FINALLY HAVE A HAPPILY EVER AFTER, SPINEL SHOWS UP AND RUINS EVERYTHING! UGH! WHY CAN’T I EVER GET WHAT I WANT?!” Tiger’s Eye yelled then roared, their entire body engulfed in pink light. A shockwave of energy pushing everyone back as the stage crumbles to bits. “NO! MY STAGE!” Mr. Smiley yelled in horror. The crowd looked at the fusion in terror, then began to panic as they rushed towards the exit. Ronaldo stood still. The fusion takes off the cat disguise and tosses it on the ground. “Don’t worry, Beach City. I’ll protect you from this Snerson!” He yelled out as he unbuttoned his shirt revealing the golden armor underneath. Kiki and Big Spike were helping people exit the area, while Peedee looked in horror at the fusion, frozen in fear. Ronaldo rushed towards the fusion, but they simply block his punch by lifting up their hand and catching it. Ronaldo flinched in pain as he failed to do any damage. “Oh, no, not again,” Peedee said. Tiger’s Eye picked Ronaldo up and roared. The two Jaspers get up and rush out of the area with Mr. Smiley.

Meanwhile, Pearl, Amethyst, and Garnet entered the building as the last of the remaining people left. “You know, it’s weird that the humans are all running away like this. I hope the match is… *Gasp* Steven! Put your weird friend down!” Pearl said as the group noticed Tiger’s Eye. The fusion roared and threw Ronaldo to the left. The young man grunted in pain as he lands face first. “Ronaldo!” Peedee yelled as he rushed over to his brother. Pearl, Amethyst, and Garnet got out their weapons. Tiger’s Eye looked at the Crystal gems and suddenly the fusion sees Blue Diamond where Pearl was, Yellow Diamond where Amethyst was, and White Diamond where Garnet was. The fusion held their head, then let out another pink shock wave, shacking the area.  “Tiger’s Eye, you need to calm down and unfuse. You’ve been Tiger’s Eye for too long. If you don’t, we’ll force you to unfuse!” Garnet called out. The fusion covered their ears and grunted in pain. “Please, we’re here for you sis. We don’t want to hurt you,” Amethyst said, trying to help the fusion out. Tiger began shaking as tears formed in their eyes. “I… I…” They began to say, but the pressure was building higher and higher. They looked at the gems, but suddenly the world became a dark orange landscape with orange light filling the sky. The Crystal gems grew into large dark shadow versions of themselves with their eyes and gems glowing pure white. Tiger’s Eye stepped back in fear. “No… no… no… S-stay away! I…I…I can handle this. I…I…I…” They said, panic in their voice as they returned to their normal colors.

Suddenly they heard a roar. They turned around and they saw Cactus Steven form out of white butterflies. The creature’s eyes were open, but they too were full of light alongside their many mouths. “C-cactus Steven?” They said in confusion and fear. Suddenly the monster grabbed them. “Why do I need to be needed? Everyone’s better off without me! The gems don’t need me anymore!” The monstrosity said. The monster changed into Lapis. “You’re NOTHING without me!” She yelled. Suddenly water chains sprout out of the ground and Tiger’s legs and arms. The fusion began struggling to escape the chains. “Lapis, please, let us go! We… we promise to be good! I promise not to hurt anyone! Just, please… please let me go!” The fusion begged as they felt themselves being submerged in water. Lapis growled as more chains wrap around their body. “NO! YOU CAN NEVER CHANGE! YOU CAN NEVER BE GOOD! YOU SAY YOU DON’T WANT TO HURT ANYONE BUT YOU HURT EVERYONE!” Lapis yelled. The fusion was now mostly submerged in the water. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I… I shouldn’t be around.” They said as they felt guilt consume them. They take a deep breath as they held their neck.

The fusion looked up and saw a large shadow of Lapis over-looking them. “Of course, you shouldn’t! It’s all your fault! You are the reason everything’s awful! You’re the reason people aren’t happy! You’re the reason people hate us!” Lapis’ voice yelled; her voice as crisp as ever. They hear something but it was hard to hear anything, and the fusion felt their air depleting. “It’s our fault! We heal the wounds left by mom, but then we only make new wounds! All we do is hurt people! All we do is endanger people’s lives! Nobody ever listens! We can’t have what we want? Why? Why do we exist? Maybe…maybe we shouldn’t exist! Maybe it would be better off if we were gone! Nobody needs us! Nobody loves us! We’re just one huge mistake!” Steven’s voice was heard, but it sounded different. It was cold, bitter, angry, and devoid of happiness. They looked up but saw the shadow changed into Steven, however, it had Pink Diamond eyes and it was glaring at them. They felt something touching their arms. The fusion suddenly their arms being yanked away from their neck. Before they knew what was happening, the fusion turned into light and Jasper and Steven forms split the from the light. Steven and Jasper gasped for breath, Steven finds himself in Garnet’s arms and Jasper in Amethyst’s and Pearl’s. The two looked around and saw that there were purple marks around each of their necks that quickly healed. Jasper and Steven were back to back against each other.

Pearl rushed over to Steven and quickly hugged him, crying her eyes out as she yelled, “STEVEN!” The boy held his head. It was still kind of foggy. “Pearl, Garnet, Amethyst. What happened? I… remember getting really mad in the ring, us wrecking some stuff, and… being drowned by Lapis after Cactus Steven said some mean stuff to.” The young boy asked as he looked at them and noticed their weapons were gone. The boy looked exhausted, and bags were under his eyes. “You attacked that Ronaldo. Oh, by the way, Ronaldo, are you okay?” Amethyst asked as she looked at the man’s direction. He got up and coughed. “Y-yeah. Just a bit woozy. Man, Steven, your fusion sure does know how to throw a guy…” He said then wobbled. Peedee catches him. “You nearly attacked us and a crowd of people, and then we tried to calm you both down, you began chocking yourselves. We had to force your hands off your neck, and I guess that cause you to unfuse. Be glad we were here, Steven,” Pearl explained. Steven’s eyes shrank when he heard this. Tears flowed down his eyes as he hugged Pearl. She smiled and hugged him back. “Don’t worry, Steven. Everything’s going to be okay. It’s not your fault the fusion did that.” Pearl explained. Jasper coughed as she looked at the boy. “Could you weaklings explain what this chocking this was and why it hurt so much?” Jasper asked, annoyed at such weakness. Amethyst put a hand on her shoulder. “Chocking is like when you are submerged in water, but you can’t actually handle the stuff being in your body. Steven’s part Organic, he needs stuff like air and food to function. He can’t handle being submerged in water. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen,” Amethyst said, a bit embarrassed with herself when it previously happened. Jasper rolled her eyes and grumbled.

“How long were you fused with Jasper for?” Garnet asked as she moved to be right next to Pearl, putting a hand on his shoulder. Steven sniffled. “I-I’d say, about 11 hours. I know. I know, we should have unfused before we became unstable, but… but… I… I didn’t want to unfuse Jasper and she didn’t want to unfuse with me. I… I thought if we could find something we liked, Jasper would like Earth more. But we took too long and we lost control. I’m… I’m sorry for letting this happen.” He said, in shame. He looked at Jasper. “Jasper, are you okay? H-how are you feeling?” Steven asked, worried about her. Jasper got up and brushed the dust off herself. “I’m fine. Although… I never expected you to say those things about humans.” She said as she got up, impressed by him. Pearl, Amethyst, and Garnet were confused about what they were talking about. “Huh? Steven, what is she talking about?” Pearl asked. Steven held himself. “I… wasn’t the right of mind. We both weren’t thinking straight. But we’re not Tiger’s Eye anymore, and it doesn’t matter.” Steven said, looking away. Jasper glared at the teen then looked at Peedee. “You, small earthling, explain to them what happened. My mind is still too fogged up to recall it at the moment.” Jasper said, annoyed. Peedee stiffened. “Y-yes madame!” He said as if Jasper was some General. He coughed in nervousness.

“W-well, Tiger’s Eye was at first mad that the crowd was booing them for being too good in the ring and beating every match. When my brother explained why we didn’t like them winning, they kind of ranted about how their life was full of struggles. About how they had to listen to those former dictators, how they used to shatter gems, how they had to fix Steven’s mom’s mistakes and saw her apparently faking her own death, which… I’m not going to question cause that sounds like a whole lot of worms I don’t want to untangle. Being locked in a tower, which just sounds like it’s something from a fairytale. Something about having to solve people’s problems, feeling belittled even though they’re part of the diamond authority, wanting a happily ever after, and not getting what they want. Although, the last part kind of makes them sound like a little kid.” Peedee said, Steven blushing in embarrassment. The Crystal gems looked at the boy in shock and horror. “Steven, are you okay? You know you can talk to us whenever you want.” Garnet asked, offering an opening. Steven sighed. “Yeah. I… I’m fine. It’s just, being Tiger’s Eye kind of worn me out and made me feel small and insignificant. But, I’m fine. I promise to not hurt myself again.” He said, putting on a smile.

“Okay, just remember, you can always talk to us,” Pearl said. Steven nodded then looked at Jasper, who didn���t look satisfied. “Hey, Jasper, are you okay? I know today wasn’t the greatest. But maybe next time it will be better. I mean, we did have fun at Funland.” He said as he got up and walked over to her. She looked at him and then got up. “Honestly, I still don’t see why you cherish this piece of dirt. Besides, other than those two quartz soldiers, the humans were nothing compared to us in the ring. And seeing what we just saw… let’s just say, I know this world isn’t meant for someone like me.” Jasper said, then began to leave. Steven felt agony in his stomach. He got up and rushed after her. Amethyst grumbled at the other quartz soldier while Pearl reached out for Steven, but Garnet touched her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Pearl, Steven’s got this.” She said with a smile.

Steven rushed out of the building, Jasper not going too far. “Jasper! I’m… I’m sorry about today. I’m… I’m sorry for everything. Please, don’t leave. I promise to make it to you.” He called out, guilt and shame in his voice. The orange gem snorted as she stopped. “Don’t apologize.” She retorted. Steven shocked his head. “No, I have to. I was the one who didn’t let us unfuse at an appropriate time so we could cool our heads. I knew staying as one fusion for too long wasn’t good for our health, but I let us be Tiger’s Eye because I wanted to stay with you. I… I was so scared that if we were unfused, you would leave me behind, like everyone else. I… I didn’t want that. But… but now, you’re going back to your cave, and it’s all my fault.” He said, fear in his voice, tears followed down his face, “I’m sorry our wrestling event went out of hand. I… I couldn’t control my big stupid heart from caring about the crowd. I… I just wanted for once for them to cheer for me instead of booing or calling me names. I thought to be a bad guy would make them like me again, but it didn’t! It just gave us more boos! And I…” Steven began to panic.

Jasper turned towards him, kneeled, and put her hand on Steven’s shoulder. “Take a deep breath and calm down,” Jasper told him. Steven began breathing heavily then slowed his breath. “Better?” She asked. Steven waited for a second and nodded. “Y-yeah. Thanks Jasper.” He said with a smile on his face. Jasper rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Don’t think this makes up for what happened. I only did that because I know Pink Diamond is suffering with you,” Jasper said. Steven blinked then growled. “What are you talking about? Pink Diamond is gone! She sacrificed herself to make me and she’s never coming back! I thought I got through to you! You were calling me Steven,” Steven yelled, confused and angry. Jasper pointed at the boy with an angry expression on her face. “Then who was that other voice who was talking with us? And don’t say it was Tiger’s eye. We both know that’s a lie.” Jasper said. Steven looked at himself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s only me here. Maybe the other voice came from you! You ever thought of that! You were the one imagining Lapis drowning us, after all even though she wasn’t even a part of our fusion.” Steven said, trying to deflect Jasper’s accusation. Jasper laughed. “Nice try, Rose, but you can’t manipulate me now that I see the truth. I never thought such a thing was possible, but, now, now I know why Rose Quartz and Pink were so different yet we're also the same gem. That’s because you are two gems, Rose, but you’re trapped inside one gem. You may want to be called Steven Universe, but I know inside, you’re still Rose Quartz and Pink Diamond.” Jasper said, making Steven growl in frustration.

“What are you talking about, Jasper? I’m not Rose! I’m not Pink! I’m Steven Universe!” Steven yelled. He honestly had no idea what she was talking about. “I see that you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you aren’t two people, Rose, but you can’t fool me anymore now that I’ve been inside you. You may have started out as just Pink Diamond pretending to be a Rose Quartz, but something snapped inside of you, splitting your mind into two beings. One being Rose Quartz and the other being Pink Diamond. The Pink I knew didn’t care about humans or the earth, she just wanted to have her colony and be happy. I remember her fighting in battle with the Crystal gems, using her massive strength to win battle after battle. I remember her yelling about Rose Quartz and her plans. I remember Pink using ever possible weapon to try and squish you and your forces. Don’t say that was all an act to make Yellow, Blue, and White respect you, because we both know that is a lie. If you really cared about protecting the earth, the Crystal gems would have won more battles than they did. Pink’s troops wouldn’t be at the top peak and ready with top of the line equipment. Our battles wouldn’t have been so fierce, Rose. You know that you had become two beings, Rose, but you didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want to admit that you were broken, after all, you’re a Diamond. That’s probably why you forced Pink to fake her death. You both knew that for the war to end, one of you had to die. Pink tried her best to repress you, Rose, make you the one to die, but in the end, you ended up being the one on top. You weren’t physically shattered, Pink, but it was almost the same fate when Rose took over. Rose took your life and hid you away. But now, now you have power, Pink. You can fight back against her and regain your colony! You can make things right again! Rose is now pretending to be this boy, but you, Pink, you’re still in there. I know it. You’re trying your best to speak out, to try and reason with your other self and their messed-up ideology, but you’re drowning her out, Rose. That’s why Pink tried to choke us with Lapis. She’s sick of this world treating her like she’s not a diamond. She’s sick of your rule, of little Homeworld, of being careful. You say you give freedom to gems, but you restrict Pink even though she just wants to be free as well. But she can’t be free in this world, not without risking this crummy planet, these puny humans, and the weak gems under your control, Rose. And now. Now I know what I must do to make things right,” Jasper said.

Steven clutched his shirt around where his gem was. “NO! Jasper, I’m not Pink! I’m not Rose! I’m not my mom! I’m NOT broken!” Steven began saying, then his mind flashed back to seeing two versions of himself. One human and the other full gem. “I’m… I’m not…” Steven said, then clutched his hair as the painful memories filled his mind, “I’m not broken… I’m… I’m not shattered. I’m fine,” He said then he flashed back to interacting with the cluster and hearing their cries of pain. Steven breathed heavily as his mind remembered all the times, he had turned pink. “What's wrong with me? Why do I keep turning pink and having these outbursts?” He asked, scared out of his wits. Jasper smiled as she put her hands on his shoulders. “These aren’t outbursts, Rose. It’s Pink crying out for help! But you’ve been ignoring her cries so you can remain in charge and run that dumb school of yours. You ignore her cries so those Crystal losers wouldn’t worry about you. Well, news flash, Rose, you’ve failed! Your family still badgers you about what’s going on. You gave up on running your crummy little school and now, you have nothing to show for all the time and pain you’ve put yourself through! You may have saved this crummy planet, Rose, but you’re not happy about it, and neither is she! That’s why you’re like this!” She yelled, then turned around, her words stinging like daggers in Steven’s chest.

The boy held his head, then roared as he is engulfed in the pink light again, “STOP IT! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THIS! I DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT THIS! I’M NOT BROKEN! I HAVEN’T FAILED! I’M TRYING MY BEST TO HELP PEOPLE, TO FIX THINGS, BUT LOOK AT YOURSELF! WHAT HAVE YOU’VE DONE SINCE YOU’VE UNCORRUPTED? NOTHING BUT TRAIN FOR A BATTLE THAT IS NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN! THE WAR’S OVER, JASPER! I TRIED TO SHOW YOU A DIFFERENT WAY! I GAVE YOU FUSION, I GAVE MY TRUST, AND THIS IS WHAT I GET!? YOU CALLING ME ROSE AGAIN AND SAYING I’M BROKEN INSIDE! WELL, I’M NOT! I’M NOT MY MOM! I’M NOT BROKEN! IF YOU’RE NOT GOING TO ACCEPT ME THEN JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” He yelled, the groundbreaking under him and a shock wave knocking Jasper back. Steven gasped in fear and reached out for her. “Jasper, are you okay?” He asked, afraid that he might have hurt her. Jasper chuckled as she got up. “Yeah. I’m fine. I see what I have to do to get through to you.” She said and began to walk away. Steven began to shake. “No, Jasper, where are you going? D-don’t leave me alone!” He said, terrified of what he had just done. Jasper chuckled. “You truly are something, Rose. Asking me to leave and then at a drop of rock, begging me to stay. You truly are broken. Goodbye,” She said, then spin dashes away, kicking up a cloud of dust. Steven coughed as she zipped away. Steven looked at his hands, which were still glowing, and leaned against the building away from the door. He crawls into a ball as the light around him dissipates.

After a few seconds, Ronaldo came out of the building. “Well, after a good talk with the gems, and waiting for my injury to recover, I, Ronaldo, am here to apologize to you Stev…en?” Ronaldo said, building confidence in his voice before noticing the sound of crying. He looked around and then saw Steven had begun to cry. Ronaldo walked over to the boy. “Wow, Steven, you’re crying. Did me calling you a Snerson upset you that much? Welp, don’t cry anymore, because I am here to apologize. I’m sorry for calling you a Snerson, Steven, but you got to admit, I only did it to protect myself and Peedee. I didn’t want to be tricked by the government and Sneeple into believing things that weren’t true. I didn’t realize that you were truly in there, Steven. But now that I know, let me apologize for not trusting your word,” Ronaldo said as he tried to cheer Steven up. The boy shifted his head away from the older teen. “I know, I know, how can you forgive me, you wonder, well, let me explain why I called you those things in the ring. I thought Tiger’s backstory was just that, the backstory of a wrestler. I thought it was just the classic, bad guy motive who came from a former hero stick, I didn’t realize that you felt bad about yourself. Also, Amethyst explained that You were Tiger Millionaire! Like wow! I would have never guessed that! You were a pretty good actor, Steven, and now, I see why you changed him into a weenie. N-not that being a weenie is bad or anything, it’s just not a good look for wrestlers, that’s all.” Ronaldo said. Steven sighed and looked at the man. “Am I… broken?” The young boy in the pink jacket asked. Ronaldo was quite confused by this. “Steven, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You need to give more context for me to answer your question.” Ronaldo said. Steven looked down as his mouth struggled to say the words it wanted to say.

“I… Jasper said that I was still my mom and tried to justify it by saying she was broken… and… she said I was suffocating myself, not letting myself speak because I was broken. She said there was two of me and that one was Pink Diamond while the other was Rose Quartz. I… I want to say that she’s wrong and it’s only a delusion we thought up while as Tiger’s eye…and yet… I don’t want to say it. I feel like she’s right. I’ve been messing things up a lot, I gave up running Little Homeworld, I’m scared of everyone in Beach city leaving me even though I know I can’t force anyone to stay, I’ve been saying some awful stuff about the gems and myself, I’ve been turning pink whenever I get upset or scared, and now I’ve messed up my time with Jasper. So, Ronaldo… am I broken?” Steven asked. Ronaldo starred at the kid with shocked eyes. “Wow man, that’s intense.” Ronaldo said. Steven sighed and looked down. “Yeah. I thought talking with Jasper would help me unwind all these feelings I have since I don’t feel like I trust the gems, but all she did was berate me for being weak until I begged her to fuse with me! And even then, we lost control because I didn’t want to unfuse! I… I just feel lost!” Steven yelled. Ronaldo shifted his glasses up, his eyes covered up in light. “Steven, sometimes, the world is full of things you wish were different and you can’t change it. Sometimes you lose your footing and feel like you’re about to fall into the abyss. But cheer up, because you’ll find your footing soon enough. Just stay strong and keep looking forward. Don’t be afraid of yourself and let yourself be whoever you are,” Ronaldo said. Steven chuckled. “When did you get so mature?” He asked, snark fully. Ronaldo blushed as the energy he had dissipated as he blushed. “A-actually, that was a speech I heard from Full Mental Chemistry. It’s a really good anime. You should watch it. It has cute girls, great fighting and most importantly, it’s super deep man.” Ronaldo said. Steven smiled. “Sure. How about next weekend? Unless your busy, then we could schedule it another time.” Steven said, getting a bit nervous. Ronaldo smiled. “Alright! I’m free this weekend, so let’s have a marathon of the show then! I have the remake too, although I find not as good as the original even though it’s more faithful to the manga. We could watch that one too if you want.” Ronaldo offered. Steven smiled. “Sure.” He said.

After a few moments, Peedee came out of the building alongside the Crystal Gems. “Steven, were you and Ronaldo able to make up?” Peedee asked. Steven and Ronaldo nodded. “Yeah, he was able to cheer me up,” Steven said with a smile as he whipped the tears from his eyes. The Crystal gems smiled, then looked around the lot. They noticed the crater Steven had created. “So, Jasper isn’t here now. I bet she went off to her cave again,” Pearl said. Steven stood up. “Yeah. But… I don’t know what she’s planning to do. Jasper thinks I’m somehow both Rose Quartz and Pink Diamond. She said I was broken inside and that I’m suppressing Pink Diamond. I tried talking out of whatever she was planning, but… it didn’t work, and she left. I’m worried she might do something dangerous like try and start another war. She already tried building an army back when the corrupted gems were still around. Now that gems like Bluebird are popping up, she might try to do it again,” Steven said as he tensed up.  This surprised everyone. “This isn’t good. Garnet, why didn’t you say anything so we could jump in and try and stop her?” Amethyst asked the fusion. Garnet held her head. “I didn’t think this was a possible outcome. I thought at worst, she would just sulk back to her cave and she would be back where she had been. I never thought this was a possible future. Steven, you need to talk to us so we can get a better understanding of what happened between you and Jasper as Tiger’s Eye. Perhaps we can get a better idea of why this happen to help stop her.” Garnet said. Pearl and Amethyst agree. Steven tensed up again. This was the exact opposite of why he went to Jasper. “There must be something going on with you to make Jasper be mistaken to think that. Perhaps it has something to do with these strange pink incidents. There is a crater like hole like what happened at the reef. I hope you didn’t harm her,” Pearl said. Steven put on a smile. “O-of course not. Jasper super strong, she handled my blow out like a champ. She’s fine… I’m fine.” Steven said, trying to make his caretakers not worry about him.

“That’s good and all, man. But these pink powers are getting out of hand. I mean, it was cool at first, especially when Smokey became super-fast, but you’ve been losing your chill more and more. We need to talk,” Amethyst said, causing Steven to start shivering in fear. He grunted as he put his hands to his face. Garnet stepped forward, but suddenly Peedee stepped in front of Steven. “Um, sorry about what I have to say, Steven’s family, but you need to need to back off and let him breath. I know you’re worried about him. I’m worried about him but trying to force him to confess his feelings isn’t cool. Let Steven convey his feelings on his own time. He needs a break from tonight and from being Tiger’s Eye. You trying to but in when you’re not needed won’t solve anything,” Peedee said, surprising Steven and the Crystal Gems. Ronaldo got up and stood next to Peedee. “Yeah, Peedee’s right. Steven needs to chillax and take a breather from tonight. He’ll confess his deepest darkest fears another time.” Ronaldo said, although it still didn’t make Steven feel any better. Pearl sighed. “Fine, but Steven, eventually you’ll have to talk to us. We won’t judge you, just promise us that you will when you’re ready.” Pearl said. Steven looked down and sighed. “Alright. I promise. Just… let me breathe tonight,” He said. The crystal gems nodded. “Hey, since we’re all together, why don’t we go eat at my house? I’ll make something everyone will enjoy.” Steven offered. Peedee and Ronaldo smiled. “Sure! I’ll go tell Dad we’ll be having dinner at your house,” Peedee said as he whipped out his phone. Garnet walked up to Steven. She and their son looked at the direction Jasper had left. “Don’t worry Steven, we’ll find Jasper soon enough and stop her before she starts anything. Just let us know when you’re ready to talk. We trust you as an adult to talk to us on your own terms,” Garnet said. Steven took in a deep breath and touched where his gem was. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind,” He said with a smiled, the scene fading out.

(The end. Hoped you like the fanfic. Also, the whole chocking scene was inspired by the Disarmed Au on Tumblr, and the anime Ronaldo is referencing is a parody of Full Metal Alchemist, although the speech isn’t from any of the series.)

[chameleonsallinvermillion]

So I bought groceries today...

And it went a little something like this.

The roads were empty. Hardly anyone was about. I bowled along with music blaring. It seemed like a movie scene. The carpark, though, was crowded. The queue snaked back out of the door and all the way down the side of the building, out of the entrance and up towards the roundabout. You have to walk all the way back along it to reach the part where you get to stand. It feels somehow executionary.

All the same, the queue was a nice place to be. The sun was beaming down and there was a festival air, a pageantry to the whole proceedings. It was as if we were lining up for a fairground attraction. Everybody was in a good mood, perched on walls, shouting to one another over the mandated distance of one adult bull seal.

I was perhaps half an hour in that queue. We edged our slow way along. A woman got a notification on her phone that Boris had the virus and shouted it out to a ragged chorus of cheers. The couple three down from me kissed in a truly unnecessary display of physical intimacy in these times of distance – how dare they have somebody safe with whom to share their germs? It seems dreamlike already.

Once you near the entrance, the line becomes formalised. Barriers and partitions are set up. Duct tape crosses mark where you are allowed to stand. Security guards in vests and helmets give directions. Every time somebody leaves, with a laden trolley or a thousand bags, somebody else has permission to enter. We inch ever closer.

At last, the old guard gives me the nod and in I go. The foyer is stacked floor to ceiling with bread. We are walled with bread. Thankfully, bread is on the list so I snatch the first loaf I come to and hurry through into the air-conditioned splendour of a surprisingly peaceful shop.

Nobody is talking – everybody came alone, one person per list. Everybody is focused. The reduced numbers make it almost pleasant, for a little while. I fill my bags with celery and grapes. The thing we have in abundance is fresh fruit and vegetables. I suppose the supply chains of those were already set up. It’s the things they don’t get regular deliveries of that are in trouble.

Things got more complicated with the list. By standing on tiptoe and some serious rummaging, I was able to snag the last two tins of tomato soup. Dedicated detective work won me a pot of custard. The intervention of a kindly gentleman found me curry sauce. He was a marvellous chap, on a state-of-the-art mobility scooter with his lop-eared service dog riding high on the prow like the figurehead of a ship.

Ribena was a no-go. Soft drinks are in short supply and rationing is enforced. There were only a couple of baked bean tins left and I snagged those as well – you’re allowed three maximum, well, there were two on the shelf so I took them. The pasta shelves are empty and only the weird speciality rice is left. The biscuits show clearly the nation’s preferences: no bourbons to be found, but you’re in luck if you favour off-brand Nice. Sauces are in short supply. So are chutneys. Indian food is rationed in the international section; there has been sudden demand.

When you get to the frozen aisle, everything is empty. The great bins that are usually stuffed with bags and boxes lie fallow. A few oven chips huddle together in a cabinet. There’s a decent amount of ice cream. Still, that bids farewell to our dear neighbours’ dreams of frozen peas.

The bags are getting so heavy the handles are in danger of breaking off. Pop hits from the early 90s ring through over the sound of tramping feet and the rustle of a thousand packages. The walkie-talkies of the staff crackle. I hunt down crisps, porridge oats, halved walnuts. It’s strange but the seasonal displays are still up, with their offers and their stacks of cakes and Easter eggs. It seems like something from another land. The Pope has cancelled Easter.

Only four tills are open. The queues stretch back down the aisles. If you want anything from an aisle people are queuing in, your only option is to join the line and hope you end up standing next to it eventually. I settle for the line that runs down the laundry aisle. We’re in for a long wait.

The minutes tick by. I glance behind. I am now in the middle of the line, but I have only moved three paces forward. The washing powder so dearly prized is far off in the future. The radio plays something from the 70s.

Twenty minutes now and I’m securely inside the aisle, but still a long way from washing powders. I stare at the fabric conditioners and wonder about their flavours. Lychee and raspberry seems an odd choice but what do I know about lychees? I realise, all at once, that I know nothing about lychees. Have I even seen a lychee? I feel as though I have eaten one but I cannot summon it to mind. The bags are so heavy now. I place one on the floor and flex my fingers. They are purple and bruised, and will not straighten.

Forty minutes in and I start to sway. The washing powders are so close now but I cannot see them clearly, only the edge of one box. I cannot tell if the kind demanded are even there. I had forgotten my low blood pressure – it’s so much better these days, it’s been years since I’ve stood still long enough to feel the danger. I might faint at any moment.

I wonder if that would make the news. Would somebody write a report about the poor young woman who fainted waiting in line to buy soup? Would they sensationalise it, and I would be forced to issue a statement saying that I’m just really bad at standing upright and everybody should calm down? To be on the safe side, I start to shuffle my feet the way Rob-from-Band taught me all those years ago. I perform a little two-step there in line to the tune of the Spice Girls. The woman in front of me glares at me. She thinks I’m being impatient. The old man behind me nods and smiles sympathetically.

“Not long now,” he says.

He is wrong.

One hour in the line and paradise is unlocked. The box sits there, undisturbed. Washing powder! Washing powder to bring home! It is rationed, but that is no matter. I will take all I can lay my greedy hands upon. I will stuff the remaining space in my bags with blue boxes. The prize, so long sought, is mine at last!

One hour and five minutes into queuing, somebody tries to start a line at the next till. They haven’t realised, you see, that our line divides between two. They are politely informed of the situation and advised to join the rear of the queue, now apparently snaking half-way round the shop despite the one-in-one-out rule at the door. The woman throws up her hands and screams.

“We’re all in the same boat,” choruses the line, in dull unison.

I speak with them. I am them. These people and I are one.

The woman yells but she submits, dragging herself down to the far end to begin her own long quest for salvation. We creep ever closer. I can see the tills now, watch the red lights blink as they fail again and again, for some reason overwhelmed. I watch the face of the attendant. She is so beautiful. She is so dead behind those lovely eyes.

One hour and ten minutes. Somebody tries to start a line at the other till.

“Same boat,” we chant, our eyes blank, our hearts as heavy as our shopping bags. “Same boat.”

At last, the queue creeps again. All at once, I stand alone on the brink. Dusty linoleum stretches out ahead of me and there, unreachable, on the other side of the imaginary bull seal, is the till itself. The woman ahead of me starts to unload her trolley. I never knew they made trolleys that big. Things keep on emerging, like a conjurer’s trick.

One hour and twenty-five minutes since I joined the queue. The attendant approaches me and gestures, from a safe distance, to the now-emptied till. I rush, as if anybody would dare to take it from me. I feel I should hurry for the sake of those behind but my limbs refuse. The deadened pace of the last hour has changed me. I am an automaton; I move at one speed only.

The machine bleeps its terrible bleep. I empty the bags to fill them again. I stack tins at the base, top off with grapes. The machine fails. The attendant rushes to rescue me. I nearly weep as I thank her. She, such is the day, does not seem alarmed. She merely nods, a nod of solidarity, of two women stuck in purgatory.

But I have seen the light. The bags fill. I do not see the price as I flail with my debit card. It is plastic, just plastic. I could break it in my hand. It will give me these items I fought for. How does it do that? I no longer know.

“Thank you for shopping with us,” says the machine.

“Thank you,” I tell it.

Do I mean it? Who can say?

Some lucky soul rushes to take my place. I gather up my bags. I do not feel the pain now. My fingers are raw. I feel nothing. I make my way down the long corridor, past the rows of locked tills and unstocked shelves. The doors are ahead. They swoosh, so quiet, to expel me into the foyer of bread. The security guard turns to look at me. He is still here, then, the man who bade me enter. His gaze is a lifeline. I hold it. To drop it would be to fail, to be sucked back inside, to never escape. I am Orpheus. I must not look round.

The portal is passed. I step out onto concrete, into the fierce rush of petrol fumes and sunlight. He nods, and breaks our gaze. The line moves on, the next couple setting out to begin what I have just endured. The line is so long now, so much longer than it was. It does not matter. I am free. I am born anew.

I walk to my car. I left it centuries ago. The music starts where I left off. This is a different world. The sun is so bright. There are children playing in the carpark, running between the cars, ducking down, laughing. They are waiting. Somebody who loves them is buying bread. They are innocent. They are not tainted as we have been tainted.

I am no longer tainted. I am purified. The engine hiccups into life. I drive slowly out. The roadway is lined with people waiting to enter. The pageantry is still there, the festival, the sunlight. They seem to crowd around my windows. The music plays. I know now how Kennedy felt, that day in Dallas, when the crowds cheered his name.

[writeradamanteve]

You are doing prompts for the first time? That's so exciting! We are including the wintery prompts as mini reindeer games over on @riverdale-events if you want to include them! I can't help but send one in. You are so good with AUs of all kinds. How about: 59. this year my family has decided we’re celebrating the holidays on a cruise and you’re the cute bartender who teases me for mourning the lack of snow

Remember this? Well, just to prove that I haven’t given up on them...

Here’s Part 1 of  Mi Irie

The Jamaican saying "irie" is often used to mean "everything is alright and fine." Note that Jamaica has numerous variations when it comes to greeting someone. When someone asks “How are you feeling?” or “How yuh stay?” an appropriate response would be, “Mi irie.” ~ Sandals.com

I.

She looked pretty miserable.

Which wasn’t the most surprising thing on a tropical cruise, if Jughead were to be honest.

Working as a bartender on the Ringmaster Caribbean Cruise ship for the last couple of years, his station was perhaps the only place on the ship where the miserable can turn to for comfort. The bar attracted both party goers and debbie downers alike.

Not that he was there to judge. He, of all people, understood feeling miserable in a room full of happily drunk people, both as a bartender and a person who, as a kid, grew up surrounded by drunk adults in his father’s bar. It was the funhouse image of an Eloisian upbringing--Jughead at the Whyte Wyrm.

That he ended up getting a bartending job was arguably a predictable outcome, or the opposite of--depending on how one looked at it. Sure, it was fucked up that he was a ten year old doing his homework in a bar, but ultimately, bartending became the one thing he knew how to do by heart, and if he was going to get anything out of his trashy childhood, it may as well be money he would be getting on bar tips.

But because he spent a lot of time around inebriated people, he did get the impression that everyone could be an asshole if they were drunk enough. It wasn’t an ideal working environment, but he needed a job that paid well while he wrote his book and went to school, and in some sad way, it was all worth the validation he got out of finding those who understood misery like he did.

So seeing this sad face at his bar wasn’t particularly extraordinary. He’d seen all types. And misery aside, she looked great. The golden cascades of her hair fell in waves over the skin of her sun-kissed shoulders. Her bikini, a nice dusty blue with a knitted pattern design, flattered her figure. Paired with a wrap around her hips and showing off her nice curves, he couldn’t help but think that the only thing weird about her was that she was alone.  

Then again, it was early morning and quiet.  

A soft breeze blew in over the turquoise waters of the ocean, wafting comfortably into the shaded bar area on the deck. The sunshine bounced brightly over the chlorine blue pool.

The bar was mostly empty. Out in the pool area, just outside the bar’s perimeter, guest were at a minimum. Most families with children were sleeping in or still having breakfast at the mess hall.

The people enjoying the pool at this time were adults, and a concentration of them were at the far end, riveted by the aquatic aerobics instructor and his goofy routines.

Miss Misery was, in fact, watching these antics from where she sat, passive and unsmiling.

“Nobody really goes to that class to exercise,” Jughead said to her as she watched them. “They like to watch Archie doing his thing. I’m surprised they don’t have dollar bills to put in his swim trunks, honestly.”

Archie, the instructor, as if on cue, tore off his Ringmaster Caribbean Cruise t-shirt and turned on the poolside shower to bathe under the stream, all while his “students” hooted and hollered.

Miss Misery’s lips tightened to a line, but she seemed amused instead of inscenced. “Well, he’s increasing their pulse rate, for sure.”

“He loves the attention.”

She nodded and turned her barstool to finally face the bar. “He must.”

When she said nothing else and her gaze began to wander to the TV hanging over the bar, he figured she wouldn’t mind the conversation. This quiet in the morning, he liked to engage guests one on one. “So, what can I get you, miss?”

Surprise piqued in her sea-green eyes. “You serve alcohol this early?”

He laughed and put his hands out in an open gesture. “All inclusive means it’s always five in the afternoon.”

Her eyebrows crinkled with what he could only assume was a sudden onslaught of possibilities. “Alcohol for breakfast?” This was a real marvel of a thing for her.

“It’s been done. For the seasoned drinker, a Bloody Mary is the most cliche of drinks, but it’ll do for a vacationer. The more hardened imbibers ask for a Prairie Oyster--strictly a veteran hangover cure.”

“What’s a Prairie Oyster?”

“Raw egg, Worcestershire sauce, bit of tomato juice, vinegar, hot sauce, black pepper, and a shot of gin. Two if the hangover’s particularly bad.”

Her jaw dropped open briefly before it clamped shut. “Does that actually work?”

Jughead shrugged. “No idea. I don’t go on benders so I’ve never had one.”

She seemed to accept this, her eyes falling on the overhead menu. The drinks written on it in neon colored pens were from last night’s specials, but they were good for any day. He waited for her to say something.

“Um… sangria?”

“Wow. Living it!”

She rolled her eyes, but he did manage to get a chuckle out of her. He began working on her order.  It would take a little longer to put her drink together, because he did need to cut up some fresh fruit, but he didn’t mind. If it meant she would stay a little longer, it was worth the extra effort.

“I’m Betty, by the way,” she said as he worked. “I didn’t see you at the bar last night, um--Jughead?” She was reading off his name tag, but she went on without saying how strange she probably thought his name was. “Last night it was Toni, who routinely got hit on by men of all ages.”

He laughed softly. “Yeah, she’s a crowd favorite. Got that whole Coyote Ugly vibe going. She’s not a fan of men, though. She prefers girls.”

“Oh.” She said it like it explained things.

“So,” he said, chopping up some oranges into thin quarters. “If you’re not here because you’re hungover, and you weren’t here to drink in the first place, did you come to the deck for aerobics then change your mind when you realized it was more of a strip tease? Or maybe you’re smart and figured you can enjoy the show from here, comfortably perched on our soft barstools.”

She cocked a smile, finally. “I just wanted to get away from the chaos of the mess hall and my family. I figured they weren’t going to look for me here. I’m not a big drinker.”

“Well, now look at you. Knocking back booze for breakfast.”

She snorted. “Hardly.”

He finished chopping up the apples and he threw all his chopped fruits in a pitcher, halfway full of ice, and mixed the sangria in it. After he gave the mixture a stir, he poured some of it in a glass, threw in a hefty dose of tequila, and slid the drink in front of her. “You look like you need some tequila. That’s my special mix. And drinks are on me.” He winked.

She arched an eyebrow. “It’s an all inclusive cruise. Of course they’re on you.”

“They don’t mix it the way I do.”

She took a sip and she gasped. “Wow!” she rasped. “Potent.”

“Just for you.”

She began to laugh and threw him a sidelong glance. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He tilted his grin but said nothing.  

The truth was, since he started this job, he hadn’t said that to anyone but her.

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

She was back the next morning and this time, she ordered a tequila sunrise. She had on a different suit, starkly white against her tanning skin, and he may have been imagining things, but the top gave her breasts a spectacular cleavage that wasn’t as noticeable the day before. He had to remind himself to keep his eyes up, especially since hers seemed more interested in engaging him.

“Feeling better?” he asked, mixing her drink.

She shrugged, but her smile came easier. “Same shit, different day, but now I know you serve alcohol in the morning and you don’t water drinks down.”

He chuckled but pressed his finger lightly over his lips. “That last part’s a secret between you and me.”

Her tanned cheeks bloomed pink and Jughead eyed her for a moment, delighting on the effect he had on her. He slid the drink towards her and she sipped from its straw. She seemed less surprised by the alcohol content but she did blow a breath through her lips. “You must be breaking some All Inclusive Rule here.”

“You bet I am. Does that impress you?”

She quirked her gaze. “It depends on how drunk this makes me.”

He gave it a moment’s thought. “Kind of a low bar. You were drunk after the one glass I gave you yesterday.”

“Hey, I was drinking on an empty stomach.” Her protest sounded weak.

He laughed and pulled a large plate from beneath the bar.  It had piles of bacon, layers of pancakes slathered in maple syrup and butter, and some scrambled eggs on the side. She stared at it as he offered her a clean fork. She slowly took the fork and shot him a suspicious squint. “Is this your breakfast?”

He nodded, grinning. “It’s my second one. It’s a fresh plate and I hadn’t touched it.  I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.”

Her gaze gave him the once over and a ripple of pleasure coursed through him, especially when her lashes fluttered as their eyes met again. “I can use some bacon and pancakes.”

He leaned over the counter and brought out a fork of his own, cutting into the pile of food on his plate. “So, if you don’t mind me asking… are you not enjoying yourself on this cruise? You come here in the morning and you always sound like you’re trying to forget something.”

“Oh, do I? Maybe you’re right. I’m on this cruise with my parents and my sister--not exactly the kind of getaway I was looking for. It’s bad enough that I have to deal with my mother’s sideways disapproval of how I look in my swimsuit, but I found out yesterday that a snowstorm hit New York City and I missed it. Will miss it. The snow will be nothing but filthy piles of ice on the side of the road by the time I get back to it, if I catch any of it at all.”

He couldn’t help but laugh.  “Wait a minute… are you telling me that you were all gloom and doom yesterday because you missed a snowstorm in New York… while being on a cruise ship on the tropical waters of the Caribbean? Really?”

Her cheeks reddened again, but she seemed poised to defend herself. “You laugh, but New York after a snowstorm, when everyone’s still indoors and the streets are quiet--it’s the most beautiful thing.”

“Oh, is it?”

She nodded eagerly. “It is. That thick layer of undisturbed white powder, lights blinking through the snow--all you can see are the parked cars covered in a shimmering white sheet and the buildings along its side look like pretty gingerbread houses--it’s so picturesque. The first people to emerge are usually kids with their parents, eager to slide down snow hills before the roads are salted and the dream is obliterated by modern machinery. If you close your eyes and listen to their laughter, it feels warm. It feels like waking up to a fresh new life. There’s nothing like it.”

He gets it. He grew up in Ohio and he knew what the aftermath of a snowstorm looked like, but he imagined that New York City was prettier than Toledo, and most people would pick a tropical paradise over a snowy cityscape. Not him, personally. He didn’t care where he was.

“You’re just going to have to comfort yourself with free alcohol, white sand, and blue, warm waters.”

She gave a dramatic sigh. “I suppose so.” She followed it with a laugh. “So, when do you get to enjoy the white sand and blue waters?”

He shrugged. “I mostly don’t. In my free time, I hang around the ship and write.”

“Write?”

He nodded. “I’m on break right now but I’m completing my novel for my creative writing graduate program.”

She seemed only mildly surprised. “Which graduate program?”

“Iowa Writer’s Workshop.”

“Well, now, that’s impressive.”

He shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth. “Had I known, I would’ve started off with that.”

She threw him a mildly chastising look, even as she began to slice a piece off the pancake. “I’d like to think I come off as someone who would be impressed by a guy getting his Masters in creative writing as opposed to breaking the rules of a cruise ship branded Ringmaster.”

“You’ll be surprised at how mentioning the Iowa Writer’s Workshop does absolutely nothing for most people around here.”

“Maybe I’m not most people. So tell me, Jughead,” she paused and took a sip of her tequila sunrise. “If I were to, say, ask you to escort me outside the ship at our next island stop, would you be too busy writing your great American novel?”

This wasn’t exactly the first time he’d gotten asked out by a guest, but this was absolutely the first time he felt a thrill for it in the pit of his stomach.

She sipped her drink again and he watched her pretty pink lips mover over the straw.  

“It’s against the rules for the crew to fraternize with the guests,” he said, softly, so that only the two of them would hear.

“Well, then,” she breathed. “Now’s the perfect time to impress me with your rule breaking, Jughead.”

tbc

(Image credit: Travel + Leisure)

[mystical-flute]

Black Coffee & Pumpkin Pie (Ch. 3)

FFN || Ao3 || Ko-fi?

"Wow Neal, so you helped rescue two kids out of a mine?! Talk about a first day! The only thing that happened on my first day was me nearly dropping Charlotte's order all over the place."

Neal laughed, leaning back in his chair as he held his phone in front of him, his adoptive sister's face on the screen. It was surprisingly empty in this part of the station, which he was thankful for given the topic of conversation. "Well firefighting and waitressing are two different jobs, and it's not like I was the one that went down there. But I'm sure something exciting will happen to you. You're still in the big city, remember?"

"Yeah yeah. Hey, Mama wanted to know if you've met your dad yet."

He shook his head. "No, not yet. I'm just gathering information right now. Seeing what he's all about, you know?"

"You find anything interesting out?"

"Not – "

"Hey! Neal! Where are you?!" Ali's voice suddenly cried out. "We've got a visitor you need to meet!"

Neal grinned a little. "In the library!" he called back, turning to the phone again. "Duty calls. I'll call you later Tiana."

"Talk to you later, Neal!"

Neal ended the FaceTime call with Tiana as Ali burst into the room.

"Come on slowpoke! Who the hell were you talking to all the way over here?" Ali said with a laugh. "Mayor Mills-Hood is here."

"My sister," he said, pausing. "The Mayor? Why is she here?"

"Did you miss the name? Mayor Mills-Hood. She comes to visit all the time when she has a break from work… and besides, she's the sheriff's mother-in-law," Ali said. "I think she brought a pan of her famous lasagna so let's hurry up before it's gone!"

Neal could only blink as Ali dragged him into the dining room.

"Ah! There you are Neal," Captain Hood said. "I'd like to introduce you to Regina Mills-Hood. My wife and the mayor of Storybrooke."

Neal's stomach twisted into an uncomfortable bundle of nerves as he held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Madam Mayor."

"And you as well. I just wanted to stop by and thank you for helping to save my grandson from the mines," Regina said, her polite smile dropping into a look of concern. "He's still in the hospital with some lung problems. I'm not sure if it was the smoke from when the tunnel started to collapse or something else but..."

Neal frowned. "I'm so sorry Mayor Mills. I hope he makes a quick recovery." The kid hadn't looked good when they'd pulled him out, and he hated to find out that his suspicion had been right.

Regina nodded a little. "Thank you for your concern Mr. Cassidy. The family truly does appreciate it," Regina let out a small sigh and rubbed at her arm. "My step-daughter hasn't slept all that well. I'm glad she has the support of the school and the community."

She looked around the station again and gave Neal another polite smile. "I won't keep you any longer. The boys here love the lasagna so you'd better hurry and grab a serving. I just wanted to say welcome to Storybrooke."

Neal nodded, letting out a breath when she turned and walked out of the station.

"Well that went better than I thought it would," Ali said, handing him a plate of the steaming lasagna. "You should've seen what happened when Jefferson met Mayor Mills for the first time."

"In my defense, my first time meeting her was at the hospital after we'd put out the fire at the cannery and we had people demanding information. No one warned me that she was the mayor!" Jefferson cut in with a scowl on his face. "It was my first day as well as Victor's so neither of us were prepared for that! We just thought she was a reporter!"

"Sure you did," Ali said with a roll of his eyes.

"Hey! Don't forget, I pulled your ass out of the mine when you were a student," Jefferson scowled.

That got Ali to shut up, and Neal had to hide his laughter behind a cough.

"Anyway… why don't we show you around town? Not that there's much to see but it's the least we could do for a new friend," Jefferson suggested.

"I'd like that. Thanks…" Neal replied with a smile.

The rest of the shift went off without much excitement, and before long, Neal was sandwiched between the two more experienced firefighters, wandering down the streets of Storybrooke.

Ali clapped his arm around Neal's shoulders, pointing at a building in the distance. "That's the animal shelter there. My girlfriend Jasmine works there. She's training to be a vet."

"I'm sure she'll become a great vet," Neal replied awkwardly. He'd only ever had one girlfriend, and it hadn't ended well when he'd caught her cheating the night of prom.

"And what about you, dear Neal? Don't you have a lovely girl or guy back in the Big Easy waiting for you to return?"

Was Jefferson reading his mind? Neal got the distinct feeling that Jefferson was reading his mind. Still, Jefferson and Ali were giving him matching curious, almost puppy dog-like looks, so Neal finally let out a sigh and shook his head.

"No. I'm single. Which is probably for the best, considering the move."

"Ah! Then you'll have plenty of fun in this town!" Jefferson said with a wide grin. "But really, you should find a date to the Fireman's Ball."

Neal furrowed his brow. "The what?"

"No one warned you about that? Honestly, it's like they dropped you in the deep end without any floaties! The Fireman's Ball is the biggest fundraiser for the department. Most of the town usually comes out to party with us. It's in two weeks," Jefferson explained. "The firefighters have the first dance, so everyone has a date."

"That sounds like something out of Harry Potter," Neal said with a slow blink.

"Well, maybe J.K Rowling just stole the idea for the Yule Ball from us."

Ali rolled his eyes. "Yeeeeeah, and I'm Stephen King." He turned to Neal then and gave him a grin. "A date isn't necessary, Neal, but Jefferson is right that most of the town shows up for it. Even if you don't have a date that night you'll be able to find someone to dance with there. But no, we don't get the first dance. Captain Hood and Mayor Mills-Hood do. Jefferson just has this strange habit of trying to play matchmaker for the town."

"Oh." Neal had to admit, he was a bit surprised. Most of the people that he knew that ever tried to play matchmaker were women. "Well I'm sure the Fireman's Ball will be a fun night regardless," he said with a smile.

Ali shrugged. "Truthfully, I think Jasmine enjoys it more than I do. I was never one to like to get dressed up and stuff but Jasmine grew up in that sort of world so she's used to it. I'd rather not have my shirt buttoned all the way up to my neck."

Neal laughed. "That's a fair point."

Ali grinned at him. "Seriously, don't worry about Jefferson. He's harmless. Usually." Ali ducked a playful smack from Jefferson before continuing. "C'mon, why don't we head to Granny's for dinner?"

"Ahh sorry I'd love to, but it's open house at the school and I have to go meet Grace's teachers," Jefferson said, smacking his forehead. "Pricilla and Victor would kill me if I was late. Even if Grace told me she doesn't want us there. I'll see you later."

"Pricilla? Grace?" Neal asked with a small frown as Jefferson wandered off down the street.

Ali nodded. "Pricilla is Jefferson's ex-wife. Grace is their daughter. The three of them have a great relationship so they all do the school stuff together. Even if it embarrasses Grace."

Neal laughed. "Just like any father would, right?"

Ali shrugged as they wandered into the diner and found a booth. "Wouldn't know, really. My dad was kind of… not the greatest guy in the world. He was a thief. Started bringing me up to be the same. One day he found out about the mines and heard that there could be gold or jewels or some bullshit like that down there. He was too big, so I went down. The mine closed in on me, like what happened the day you started here. Jefferson saved me. Took me under his wing. Dad was arrested and he's doing time in the state prison. I haven't seen him since. Frankly, I don't want to."

He stared at the man. "Shit Ali. I'm sorry, that's horrible."

"It's fine. It's in the past now."

Neal scratched the back of his neck before smiling gratefully as the blonde waitress stepped over to their table. Oh, it was the same waitress he'd had the day he'd arrived to town.

"Emma! I'm surprised you're working," Ali said with a small frown. "How's Robert?"

Emma only shrugged. "Spending time in the hospital gets to be a bit much. I can't really stand to be near my mom as she cries so much. Too depressing. At least I have school and work to take my mind off it all." Her face screwed up into one of distress. "You guys know what you want yet?"

"Chicken sandwich. You know how I like it. And a coke." Ali said immediately.

"Uh… I'll take a burger. Medium. With lettuce, tomato and grilled onions… with fries and a lemonade," Neal told her as her pen scribbled along the pad.

Emma nodded, giving them a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Sure. I'll get that right out for you guys."

Neal looked at Ali with a small frown as Emma walked over to the kitchen. "So… she's related to the kid we saved?"

"Yeah. Emma's the oldest of the Nolan family. There's three total – Emma, Robert and Eva. Good kids, all of them. When they aren't going down into the mines of course."

He snorted in amusement, and before long, Emma was back with the order, sliding the two plates  in front of the men with a polite smile. "There you guys go. Anything else you need?"

Neal looked at the ketchup bottle she'd passed over to him and bit his lip. "Yeah actually, if it isn't too much trouble, I'd like a small side of mayo, if that's alright."

Emma gave him a more genuine smile, a small chuckle and a wink following. "It's not the weirdest thing anyone's ever asked me to get for them. This is no problem. Be right back."

When she returned, he grinned, taking the ketchup and squirting a fair amount of it in with the mayo. "Thanks Emma. Growing up in the Big Easy, you can't have fries without fry sauce." Of course, he knew this wouldn't even remotely compare to Tiana's, but it was better than nothing.

"Huh."

Neal looked up in surprise to find Emma still standing next to him. "Uh… something wrong?"

"No, no, nothing's wrong exactly. It's just… I haven't seen anyone in town mix mayo and ketchup mixed together except for Mr. Gold."

Her words shot through him like a blast of cold water, and he masked his shock with a sip of lemonade before trying to give her a casual shrug. "Well… Mr. Gold has good tastes then. Maybe's visited the Big Easy himself and got a taste for it," he said with a small shrug, busying himself with his fries again. "Thanks again Emma.  Gives me a small comfort of New Orleans."

The blonde let out a soft giggle. "Well, you guys enjoy. I'll be back to check on you."

He wasn't sure what to make of this new information about his father at all, but it did give him a small bit of comfort to know that he had something in common with the man.

…And he had to admit, that little giggle Emma let out was pretty damn cute.

Zelena looked up from her book, listening and watching Neal Cassidy carefully. He did fit the basics as to what Baelfire Gold would be now nineteen years after his disappearance, but of course, it was very basic information… but the information about the ketchup-mayo combination could have been something.

It was a speck, but sometimes in the personal investigative business, all she had were specks. Sometimes they panned out, but many times they didn't.

She didn't often go out and do investigations of her own anymore, being a social worker with a handful of investigators of her own meant she was stuck with paperwork most of the time, but with Aiden Gold, it was different. Tumultuous as their relationship was, when it came to a missing child, Zelena Mills had promised to do her best to find him. Especially in the way Milah and Killian had just up and disappeared from the town.

So she observed, sipping at her tea and making small notes in her notebook, until the two firefighters departed, and then, when she knew no one else was looking, Zelena rose from her seat and slid Neal Cassidy's straw into the plastic bag she had on her.

Specks were nice, but if she could get a fire burning, well… that would be even better.

Slipping  a tip on her table, Zelena quietly paid for her meal and made her way to her car, dialing a number on her phone as she did so.

"Yes?"

"Walsh my darling. I need a favor."

Walsh let out a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. "Well, that's never a good sign. What is it now?"

"I'm working a case for Aiden Gold."

"An even worse sign."

"It's his son. He's suspicious about the new firefighter."

"Oh? And what do you have cooked up in your head in order to help him, Zelena?"

"I have a straw Mr. Cassidy used. Will that be sufficient to get DNA off of?"

Zelena could hear Walsh's fingers tapping against a desk, the man letting out another sigh. "I'll try the straw, but you know it's easier when it's a lock of hair. But I'll do my best on it."

"I know you will, Walsh."

Ending the call, Zelena slipped her phone into her pocket and drove the short distance to the lab. Sure, it was shady, considering she could have just gone to the forensics lab that the sheriff used, but Walsh got results faster than them, with little red tape. For Zelena, it was better that way.

Especially when one was working for Aiden Gold.

Zelena slipped easily through the halls of the lab, giving Walsh a sly smile. "Hello darling," she said with a smirk. "Thanks for agreeing to see me on such short notice."

"I always make time for you, Zelena," Walsh replied, giving her a weary nod. "For this town's sake, I hope you've got something. The results should be in in about a month."

She bristled. "A month?! Walsh, you know this needs to be done faster than the police!"

"Yeah, I know that Zelena, but the police are kind of breathing down my neck right now so I need to be careful. I know this case is important. I know it involves Gold. But I can't put my life and career at risk like this."

Well, he had her there. Even though she was a private investigator, she was still at the mercy of David Nolan, and even though Robert was in the hospital and he'd be busy, that didn't stop him from making sure she was in line.

"Okay. Just tell me when the results are in," she relented, turning and making her way out of the office with a heavy sigh. She paused when she felt her phone buzz as she got to her car, eyes widening when she saw she had a text from her daughter, Margot. She'd been traveling for so long and Zelena hadn't seen her in months. Her heart thundered against her chest as she opened the text anxiously.

Hey Mom. I'm home.

[ofkilgrave]

I Had To | Self Para

“I used to wonder if you thought about me growing up. Begging for scraps like a dog. Or if you worried about when I got sick. Or when I was scared. I was all alone, Mum. I had to make people feed me and shelter me and care for me. That's how I learned to survive.”

– Jessica Jones: Sin Bin, by Jamie King and Dana Baratta

It doesn’t take long for him to run out of food.

Kevin stares at the empty cupboard. His parents mostly bought food that would go off quickly – fruit and veg – and he’d eaten that first. He’d tried to cook the whole frozen chicken, but it had been pink in the middle, and he’d thrown up for days afterwards. Now, even the thought of slightly raw food makes him feel nauseous.

But now he’s out of tins and frozen stuff as well. He realised he was going to run out days ago, and he’s just ignored it, as he could wish food into existence when he needed it. He’s balanced on the kitchen counter, clinging to the cupboard door to stop himself from falling, so he can see the highest shelf, but they’re all empty. There’s nothing there.

He carefully climbs down, and stands in the middle of the kitchen. He won’t let himself cry. He only cried on the first day, when he woken up and called out to them to make breakfast, and he’d been met with silence. But he hadn’t cried since then. And he won’t do it now.

You don’t see Eric crying when he goes in the Sin Bin. That’s what his dad said. Kevin stares at the floor and screws his eyes shut tightly. There’s no food here, so he has to go somewhere so he can eat. That makes sense. But where can he go? Whoever he goes to will ask questions like why aren’t you in school? and where are your mummy and daddy? And, when they find out what he could do to his parents, they would take him away.

But then he thinks about something. He remembers going to a restaurant with his parents, and the place only did pasta with cheese sauce, but he’d wanted pasta with tomato sauce. So, he’d said to the waitress, I want it with tomato sauce. And she’d said they didn’t do that. But he’d wanted it! His parents always gave him what he wanted, and they never said no. So, he’d said give it to me with tomato sauce! And she’d got that funny look that his mum and dad got when he told them what to do, like she wasn’t really there. And she had said she would. And then, when their food came, there was a plate of pasta with tomato sauce.

His parents had stared at him, and they’d looked a little afraid. Kevin had always found it difficult to tell what people were feeling – especially since they’d started to feel how he told them to feel – but he could see that they were afraid.

And now, standing in the kitchen, he realises. It doesn’t just work on his parents. His super power. He can tell people what to do, and they do it. Anyone. If it worked on his parents, and it worked on that waitress, he knows it will work on anybody.

Suddenly, going outside doesn’t seem so scary anymore.

The woman who answers the door has a nice smile. Kevin looks up at her and smiles back, trying to copy hers. He still feels weird around people – before he got better, he didn’t see anyone except his mum and dad. But he likes this woman’s smile.

“Yes?” she asks.

He blinks. “Let me in,” he says. That’s what he knows about his powers – his parents did what he said when he told them to do something. And the woman’s smile changes. It’s like her eyes aren’t smiling with her mouth anymore.

She says, “Of course.” She pulls the door open wider and Kevin walks past her, his heart racing. It’s not as big as his house, but it looked nice from the outside. That’s why he chose it. The woman is standing behind him, and she looks confused, like she’s not sure why he’s there. She doesn’t say anything. She just looks at him.

Kevin opens his mouth to speak, but then a man walks out of the living room and into the hallway. “Who the hell are you?” he asks. Kevin suddenly feels very scared – this man is much bigger than him, and he looks angry. He pulls at the sleeves of his rugby jumper.

“Let me stay here,” he says, trying to sound grown-up, but his voice shakes a little.

The man looks at him in silence. A few seconds pass. Then he says, “Of course.” Just like the woman said.

Kevin can hardly believe it worked. He doesn’t know what else to say to them. He hasn’t eaten since last night, and he’s starving, so he walks into their kitchen. Everything feels weird, like he’s about to be told to leave at any second. But the man and the woman don’t follow him. They just stay where they are, in the hallway.

The kitchen is small, and the walls are beige. There’s a rough wooden table in the middle of the room. Kevin spots a tin marked ‘Biscuits’, and he grabs it and starts shovelling them into his mouth, hardly drawing breath. They’re chocolate chip cookies, and he had the same ones at home. Suddenly, he has to sit down, because he feels sick.

He sits at the table, and stares at the wall. This house is unfamiliar. He doesn’t know where anything is. It’s not home. But he has to stay here now. These people will feed him. How is he supposed to feed himself? His parents always took care of him, like he told them to. And these people will take care of him too. Who needs his mum and dad anyway?

You don’t see Eric crying when he goes in the Sin Bin.

He tells the woman to give him a tour of the house. He doesn’t like the man, so he leaves him downstairs in the living room. As they go upstairs, she explains that their son is away at university, so there’s a spare room, and Kevin tells her to take him there. She nods, and they walk to the room at the end of the corridor. She pushes the door open, and Kevin walks in.

There’s a bed in the corner of the room, and a desk pushed against the far wall. Their son obviously read a lot, because there’s a large bookcase next to the desk, full of books. There are posters of girls in bikinis, leaning on cars and smiling out at him. Kevin stares at them. He feels weird for looking, but he can’t stop.

“Will this do?”

The woman’s question makes him jump, and Kevin tears his gaze away from the posters and looks at her. She’s hovering by the door, as if she’s waiting for something. He has no idea what, though.

“Oh,” he says. “Um. Yes.” She just stands there, with her empty eyes, and he doesn’t want to talk to her anymore. He just wants to be alone, so he says, “Go away.” And she turns her back on him and walks away without saying anything else. Now he’s finally alone. He doesn’t really know what to do. He’s living here now, but it feels strange. This is his room.

He walks over to the big mirror on the wall, and looks at himself. He’s been wearing the same rugby shirt for two days, but he doesn’t want to take it off. It’s comfy, and when he inhales deeply, it smells like home. He wraps his arms around himself and hugs himself tightly. He’s never liked how he looks. His skin is pale and his face is too round, like the moon, and he looks very young, even though he’s ten and a half now. For as long as he can remember, he’s had a shaved head. Even though they didn’t tell him why, Kevin knows it’s so his parents can get to his brain easier, for his operations.

There’s still a stitched-up scar on his head, shaped like a horseshoe, from his last operation. It looks like a lumpy worm is stuck to his skin. It’ll never go away. But when his hair grows long, he won’t be able to see it anymore. Kevin runs his finger along it and feels the bumpiness.

He has dinner alone. He doesn’t want them sitting with him. They’re strangers.

“Sit in the living room,” he says, as he sits at the table with a burger and chips and lots of ketchup. They wander away, and he eats by himself, staring at the table the entire time. His feet can’t quite touch the floor, and he swings his legs. He thought that eating would make him feel better, but this still feels funny, like he’s staying in a hotel or something.

When he’s finished, he leaves his plate where it is and goes upstairs to the bedroom without saying anything else to them. In the room, there’s an alarm clock just like one he had at home, so he sets it for eight hours time. He learnt quickly from his parents that commands wear off after 10 hours, and he doesn’t want these people doing something to him when the control stops.

When he sleeps, he dreams about his mum. Pinning him down and holding a needle that’s longer than his arm, and the lights are bright white and there’s a quick sound that goes beep-beep-beep in time with his heartbeat. He tries to push her off and he shouts stop, Mummy! Please! But he knows she won’t stop, because she never does. And he knows his dad is there too, even though he can’t see him. Come on, Kevin, his dad says coldly. It’ll all be over soon.

He knows that they’re going to cut his head open, and he screams until he’s hoarse. Why are you doing this? Tell me why! Please! Tell me! But it doesn’t matter how many times he commands them to stop, to explain, to please just stop, they never do. He’s powerless.

The next house is further away. Kevin walks until he gets too tired, and he doesn’t know the way to get home anymore. He stops at the first house on the next street, and rings the doorbell. This house is smaller, and terraced, because now he’s in the heart of the city, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to be inside again.

A woman answers, and he stares at her in shock. She reminds Kevin of his mum, before her accident, when her face was still smooth and not red and burnt. He feels such a rush of something that he can’t even explain, like sadness or anger or something else completely, and he speaks before he thinks, the order coming out in a rush: “You want to take care of me.”

Her pretty face softens, and she looks at him the way his mum used to, like she loves him. Like he’s her son. “Of course I do,” she says, and this time she sounds different. As if she means it. As if she’s so happy to see him. He feels safe immediately.

It’s been five days since he’s started staying with the new lady (her name is Linda) and he gets a stomach ache. He lies on his side in her bed and wonders if he’s dying, because it hurts so much, just like it used to when he was sick, when he hurt all over all the time. He doesn’t know what to do, but he just wants it to stop.

“Make it stop,” he tells Linda.

She goes out to the shop and buys medicine for him, and Kevin lets her feed it to him on the spoon. She’s very gentle, like his mum was before he went into surgery, when she cuddled him and told him he would be okay, if he was just a big boy, and brave, it would all be okay. Linda hugs him when he tells her to, and he closes his eyes and whimpers. It hurts, it hurts.

“Shhh,” she whispers, stroking his head gently. “It’ll be okay.”

She doesn’t say his name, and Kevin realises that’s because he’s not told her it yet. He suddenly wants to hear someone say his name. “Kevin,” he says, clutching his stomach. “My name’s Kevin. I want you to call me Kevin!”

Linda is quiet for a few seconds. And then she says, “It’ll be okay, Kevin. You’ll feel better soon.”

After a month, Kevin is sitting on the floor of his bedroom, reading Peter Pan, which Linda bought for him. His hair has grown a little now, so it’s like a thin layer of fuzz on his head, and he can hardly see the scar when he looks in the mirror. Linda is folding his clothes and putting them away, and Kevin looks up and watches her. Her eyes look blank, but he’s used to it. He knows she cares about him. He told her to.

“Linda?” he asks. She stops what she’s doing and turns to him.

“Yes Kevin?”

“Do you love me?”

She looks at him with her not-there eyes, her empty eyes, and says, “No.”

Kevin goes still. Of course she loves him. He told her to. He told her to care for him. But she just said no. Why would she say no? He doesn’t understand. When he asked his mum and dad if they loved him, they always said yes. He would say You love me, don’t you? and they would say yes. Why is this any different?

His vision blurs, and he rubs his eyes angrily. You don’t see Eric crying when he goes in the Sin Bin. That’s what his dad always said. Who even needed her stupid love anyway? Who even needed her? She was just some silly woman with a stupid smile. He hates her. He didn’t even want her to love him anyway! His parents said they loved him and they ran away as soon as they could. So what good is love anyway, huh?

He stands up and glares at her, all his ten-year old rage building and building. “I hate you!” he shouts. But that’s not good enough, so he picks up the book she bought him and throws it at the wall. She’s just like his mum! Just like his dad! Why did he even ask her that question? Who cares? Love’s stupid. It’s for children! He’s basically grown up now! He doesn’t need anyone. But he wants her to feel sorry for what she said, to making him so mad.

“I hate you!” he shouts again. “You’re just stupid! Get lost! I don’t want to see you anymore!” He grits his teeth and looks at her. She doesn’t say anything, and her expression doesn’t change at all. She blinks once, twice, and then turns on her heel and walks out of his bedroom. He doesn’t move as he hears her walk downstairs and open the front door. She closes it behind her.

Every time he stays in a new house, for a few frightening moments when Kevin first wakes up, he doesn’t know where he is. He sits bolt up, panting, his heart pounding, and looks around in an unfamiliar bedroom.

But then he remembers everything.

One day, a police officer stops him in the street. Kevin is walking to a new house, wearing a warm cardigan and new flare jeans, and the man puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, son?” he asks, in a deep voice.

Kevin looks up at him. He doesn’t know why this man is asking if he’s alright. Does he not look alright? He feels fine. Why would he ask if he’s alright?

“Yes,” he says. “Let go of me.”

The policeman takes his hand off Kevin’s shoulder, and keeps looking down at him with a worried expression. Kevin frowns back. He doesn’t like being looked at like that. It makes him feel small. So, he says, “Go away.”

The police officer starts to walk away, but then Kevin realises something. If he doesn’t tell him not to tell anyone, then he might go back to his police station and tell the other policemen that he saw him. Kevin doesn’t want people to know he’s out here. If they know he’s out here, they might try to find him. He could send them all away easily, but he likes being a secret. It makes him feel safer.

“Don’t tell anyone you saw me!” he calls after the police officer as he walks away.

Kevin never stays in one place for more than a week. They’re all boring. They’re all the same.

Sometimes it’s a man and a woman, sometimes it’s just a woman. When a man answers the door, he always asks if there’s a woman there too, because he doesn’t want to stay in a house with just a man by himself.

They all smile and they all give him what he wants to eat, and they all say of course a lot. He stops asking what their names are because he doesn’t care. They buy him new clothes and they give him the biggest, comfiest, bed in the house. It doesn’t matter what he wants, they give it to him. He asks for money, because he knows from TV that it’s important to people, but when he’s holding a hundred-pound note in his hands, he doesn’t see why it’s so special. He rips it into confetti and drops it on the floor. The man who gave it to him doesn’t bat an eyelid.

His hair is longer now, so long that it’s floppy and it hangs over his forehead. It’s dark brown and soft. Kevin likes running his hands through it. When he looks at his reflection now, he can’t see the horseshoe scar.

[ishouldprobablybewriting]

Heavy Hitters- Chapter 5

Heavy Hitters: Outlaw Country pt 5, Interim.

Sara convinces an old friend to join the Waverider team- as research and tech guru only, or so she said. As the newbie struggles to adjust to the team and the team struggles to adjust to her, Sara is playing a different game all together. One the new girl might not like too much.

Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow (or Flash or Arrowverse since it’s Mick Rory, but specifically LoT)

Pairing: Mick Rory x Plus Size OFC (cause Mick totally likes thick ladies)

Word Count: 2056

Warnings: Language, tiny bit of angst

Tags: @the-marvel-dc-peasant @mother-forker

Part one     |     Masterlist

A/N: Late for whatever winter holiday you observe but just in time for New Years! Also, why does everything always look like so much more when I type it in Docs?

Pluto was hot on her heels as Emily strode into the kitchen of the Waverider. She stopped short as the silvery doors slid open to the now familiar blue textured walls. The walls weren’t what caused to to stop though. Nor was it the now blooming potted plant that, honestly, Jax swore was fake. Nor was it the fact that Pluto trotted right in and made himself at home. No, what made Emily falter was the way the professor and Jax, huddled together at one of the tables, suddenly stopped talking despite how their conversion was already in hushed whispers. They spared her fleeting glances. Deep breath in, hold, release. Emily steeled herself, slipping a gentle smile onto her rounded face. ‘Hello, boys! How are ya feelin, Professor?” “Uh, just fine. Thank you, Ms. Kyteler.” “Anything I can do to help? I have a great cure-all. Old family reci-” “No!” “Oh.” “No, thank you, Ms. Kyteler. I am, uh, I am just fine.” “Of course, Professor.” Emily smiled. It was unusual for the professor to stumble over his words the way he just did. Or yell at her the way he did. But she knew better than to comment on it. “Well. How’s some dinner sound to ya’ll?”

Jax, for his part tried to act normal, “Oh you know I’m always down for some good cookin’.” His grin didn’t quite reach his eyes and he continued to stick close to the professor, glancing at him every so often. “How’s steak bowls sound?” she asked the boys. Not getting any response, she turned around and continued, “It's got steak, potatoes, tomatoes, greens, a homemade olive oil sauce. It's really yummy, trust me.” Still no response, she carried on with a stubborn smile on her face, flashing it over her shoulder. The door slid open with a tell-tale shing and Amaya’s light heels clipped into the kitchen.  “Hi, Amaya. You’re just in time for dinner. I’ve even got a great recipe for bread that goes perfect with this!” By now, she had already begun pulling out bowls and the potatoes. Her shoulders dropped, “No tomatoes? Or meat. Huh.” A low whine came from Pluto by the fabricator in the wall. Emily pouted. The professor and Jax watched the strange scene unfold. Amaya’s slow steps took her to the table where she stood and tried to understand the sudden chattiness of their new teammate. “Now… How do I work this thing…?” she mumbled to herself as she hesitantly pressed buttons hoping to get just what she needed. The small crowd turned towards the door when it slid open again. “Sara! Great timing. I think I just about figured ou-” “Hall. Now.” Warm fingers roughly grabbed Emily’s thick wrist and dragged her back across the room, through the door and out into the hallway. Sara pulled her a few steps down the hall, checking to be sure they were alone and away from prying ears. “Tell me.” It was an order. “Tell you what, Sara?” Play dumb, let her spell it out. Sara leveled a serious look at Emily, one that bred no room for games. Emily held her face- owlish eyes under pinched brows with her head tilted and lips parted. Innocence and confusion. “Emily. Gideon ran tests. Nate started healing at an incredible rate before you got him to the ship but after the two of you left the rest of us outside of town. You tell me. How exactly does that happen?” “I-” “And don’t you dare give me some bullshit his steel body or whatever.” Emily waited for a beat to be sure Sara was finished. “I was gonna say latent healing abilities but,” she looked Sara in the eye briefly, “we both know tha’s a lie, I s’pose.” She chewed the inside of her cheek fiercely, avoiding Sara’s intense stare just a fiercely. Sara heaved a heavy sigh and ran a hand through her hair. “You said you couldn’t anymore.” “And I shouldn’t have. But. Fuck Sara. What was I supposed to do? Let him die? I- I couldn’t. I mean, shit. I know he's annoyin’ and he does some dumb shit. But. I couldn’t just let him die.” She grabbed Sara’s wrists pulling her closer, face to face and stopping Sara’s pacing. “I couldn’t, Sara. You know that.” Emily rubbed Sara’s wrists with her thumbs gently, willing the blonde to feel the desperation as badly as she did just a few hours earlier. Sara nodded in understanding. “Ok. Okay. But you have got to be careful. Or you’ve got to come clean. You can’t have it both ways, Em. I know that, too.” Emily slowly released Sara’s hands with a nod. “Okay. I’mma go finish up dinner. Will you, um, go let the others know? I should be done in about’a hour. I’ll take some to Nate, too. Least I could do.” Sara scoffed. “You’ve done plenty. But yeah. No problem.” Sara nodded and turned on her heels, walking down the hall and away from the kitchen. Emily took a few steps towards the kitchen, trying her best to center herself. She squared her shoulders when reached the door. Her smile slid into place just as the doors slid open. “What was that about?” Jax questioned. “Hm? Oh. Sara just wanted to make sure I was okay after that whole, shootout thing. It uh... “ she looked sheepish to sell it, “It’s not really somethin’ I’m all that used to.” “Huh. Well, are you?” “Oh, yes. I- I’m alright. Thank you for askin’ though. You’re so sweet, Jax,” Emily smiled. “Now! Back to dinner! I’m sure ya’lll are all hungry.” An hour later, the fragrant aromas coming from the kitchen had attracted the attention, and presence of, the whole crew, save Nate. Who was already bitching about not needing to be in the med bay- especially when there was “clearly and obviously a damn good meal within walking distance!” Jax and Stein were still in their seats from earlier. Amaya and Sara had joined them at the table. Mick come rumbling in a bit before dinner had finished, grabbing a beer and propping his feet up in a chair at the other table. Ray was still sitting with Nate in the med bay, not that the current argument over the underground city Derinkuyu was helping the healing process any. Emily made up seven bowls taking care to adjust each one to her teammate’s preferences. Extra meat for Mick and Sara. No meat, extra greens for Amaya. Extra potatoes, no tomatoes for Jax and extra greens with no olive oil for the professor. She set each bowl down on the table grabbing a beer for Mick and Sara. “Anyone else need anything?” Her response was mostly the sounds of forks hitting the bowls as they took their first bites. Emily waited to make sure they were all happy and enjoying their meals before taking up two warm, wrapped bowls and a small loaf of bread along with two sets of silverware. She made the short trip to the med bay quicker than normal. The arguing from the two boys could be heard even down the all. “Look, all I’m saying is that, you know, mole-people shouldn’t be completely excluded as a possibility.” “Except for the fact that they have already been scientifically proven to be made for humans. By humans. Not giant, furry claws.” “You’re such a killjoy! I mean really, who's to say that after a- a mellinia of evolution and selective breeding and- and darwinism! That these specific mole-people are expert cave carvers?” Emily laughed at the two men. They were so much alike. She stood and watched them for a bit before stepping closer with the food. “Well if the freakin’ mole-people did it then why not just say aliens?!” “Dude. We are literally in a time traveling spaceship!” “Okay but w-” “Food! Gentlemen! Dinner time, I hope you’re hungry. I made sure to pack extra for ya’ll.” “Oh finally! When Gideon wouldn’t let me up I was worried you’d forget about me!” “Never, Nate. We’re a team, right?” “See?” Ray smiled that charming, proud smile with his back straight and shoulders wiggled down, “Told ya’ we wouldn’t be left out!” “Alright, well there’s plenty more in the kitchen if ya’ll want more.” The trip back to the kitchens, where the rest of the team awaited was significantly slower. “Gi?” “Yes, Ms Kyteler?” “Did I make the right decision?” “Without your intervention, Dr. Haywood would most likely be dead.” Emily sighed and stomped her foot a little. “I know that, Gi. But that doesn’t… I’m still not sure I did the right thing. If they know…” “I’m afraid I’m not quite sure what you’re asking of me, Miss. I think these are questions only you can answer.” “Can’t you offer me any help here?” Emily’s steps were slower and she felt lumbering now. “Hm. How would you have felt if you hadn’t intervened and Dr Haywood died? Captain Lance seems to know whatever it is you’re intent on keeping from the others. She seems to be quite alright with whatever it is.” That caused her to pause. She bit at her thumb, pondering what her next move should be. What they would think. What would happen. What to say. A thousand different scenarios played in her head over and over, each with a hundred variations.   “Miss?” Emily shook her head to clear her thoughts, “Yeah, Gi?” “Captain Lance was wondering if you were still in the med bay.” “Right. Of course. Thank you, Gi.” “Any time, Miss.” Her steps were quicker but Emily did not feel any lighter. She still felt too heavy, too slow, too awkward. But she squared her shoulders and smiled regardless when she reached the door and had to face her, well, the team. “Hey, just in time- grab me ‘nother beer, yeah?” Emily did as asked, with a smile on her round face, as usual, which Mick happily returned. For a second, Emily allowed herself to believe it was for her, and not just the beer she set on the table in front of what appeared to be his second beef bowl. She took a seat next to Sara with her own beer. Amaya had apparently finished earlier and left so Emily took her chair, getting a brief “Hello” from both Jax and Stein before they returned to whatever fervent conversation they were having. “Hey, Sara.” “Took you long enough.” “Sorry, I got a little uh, caught up talking with the boys. They were in some kind of debate about mole-people and aliens or something. I- I don’t know.” “Emily,” Sara hissed. “You need to do it. You know you do.” “Oh. Uh. Sara, I- I don’t know. Could we, maybe, talk about this later?” It was Sara’s turn to sigh, hers nearly a growl. “They are- we are depending on you. We deserve to know the full gambit of what we’re running with.” What. Always “what”. Emily’s chest pulled but her face never wavered. She played with the colorful paper wrapped on the bottle in front of her. “They won’t understand.” “They will. I did- I do.” “You didn’t at first.” Emily met Sara’s eyes and her smile slipped for a second. “They won’t. Different is bad.” “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re all a little different here.” Emily shook her head and took a deep drink from her beer. “Yeah, but not like me.” She scoffed at herself. “And now I sound like a walking cliche. Awesome.” Least I can still laugh at myself. “You need to give us a chance. I’m not saying we’re real great at this touchy-feely crap but… We make due. Our way. We’re more alike than you think.” “Sara,” another sigh, “Mick has an affection for fire, Amaya uses a totem, those two were fused thanks to some kind of bullshit science, Nate is a genetic anomoly, Ray is just really fuckin’ smart-” “And me?” Pause. Breathe. Hold. Release. “And you made the best of a really shitty situation that was completely out of your hands- multiple times.” Emily held Sara’s hands and gaze. “I’m a whole different ball game, baby.” Sara was reluctant to give up. “Just-” Unfortunately, Emily was just as stubborn. “Just, fucking think about it. Ok?” “Okay.”

[spookyspaghettisundae]

To Be or not to Be

It’s the weirdest thing when you meet your former best friend, and you have nothing in common any more.

Bonnie was at the shopping mall to grab a new book. She loved spending her weekends curled up in a blanket, reading a good story while drinking a hot tea, only stopping for the occasional food, bathroom, or vinyl break.

Her professor had left early today because she had been having a migraine attack, which left the afternoon of most English Literature students at the university, including Bonnie, wide open.

Her mind occupied with what book to buy and what ice cream to complement it with, Bonnie didn’t even see the young man who had stepped in her way until she almost ran into him.

“Got any change?” he asked.

Without looking at him, Bonnie replied, “Not really. I prefer spending the little money I have via credit card. It seems counterintuitive, but it somehow works for me. I spend less when I’m not sure how much I have left.”

“He didn’t ask for spending tips, he just asked for a little change.”

The voice seemed strangely familiar.

“Well, I don’t have any, okay?”

The face looked familiar, too. So much so that Bonnie said, “Belinda, is that you? I didn’t recognise you with that green hair and your, ahem, new look.”

“Belinda? Who calls you Belinda these days? This is Bindy. And she’s a proud fuck up, just like we all are,” the man in Bonnie’s way howled.

“Don’t scare her like that, Buck. Bonnie is a delicate soul.”

“Bonnie. Another potential B for our exclusive club. Wanna join the ‘Five B’s’, make it the ‘Six B’s’ instead? Bindy has been lonely lately, and you’re kinda her type. For some reason, she likes bookworms.”

“Shut up, Buck. Don’t listen to him, Bonnie. He’s just trying to get a reaction out of you. Besides, I’m not even looking for someone new. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

Belinda paused for a moment before she smiled and added, “But Buck is right about one thing. This will be a pretty lonesome weekend for me. Alone in the woods with two couples. We’re going on a little trip, you know. A weekend getaway in the hinterland. Billy knows the owner of what he calls an oasis in the mountain woods. Don’t try to explain to him that an oasis is always situated in a desert. He’s hell-bent on using the phrase.”

“It sounds cool,” said a small guy with a half shaved head. He was sitting next to a lanky man with long bleached hair who said, “It fucking does, babe.”

They were both wearing skinny jeans with holes at the knees and a The Clash T-shirt. That generally seemed to be the uniform look of the group.

Bonnie looked at the ground as she said, “An oasis in the forest is indeed an oxymoron. Unless, of course, he’s referring to the secondary meaning of the word ‘oasis’ as a refuge. Then it’s perfectly fitting. Either way, I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“Of course not. You never wanted to hurt anybody’s feelings. So I’m sure you won’t hurt mine when I ask you now if you’d join us on our little trip?” asked Belinda with a slightly shy yet beaming smile.

Bonnie looked back down at the floor as she answered, “I already have plans for the weekend.”

“Do they involve other people, or will you be alone in your apartment watching sad movies all day long?” said the young man called Buck, who was still standing much too close for Bonnie’s comfort.

“Not sad movies but a good book will be my companion this weekend,” she replied, looking up defiantly. “Plus, I have a paper to finish. I’d rather stay in.”

“Oh, come on, Bonnie, live a little,” said Belinda. “How often have you stayed in a mansion? And the two of us will have a lot of time to catch up while these four keep each other company.”

“Keep each other company? We’ll fuck each other’s brains out. At least Billy and I will. I don’t know about these two prudes,” said the tall guy with the bleached hair while pressing his boyfriend’s hand.

“Who are you calling a prude?” The girl with the pink short hair grabbed the buttocks of Buck, who grunted with what seemed delight.

“Stop your squabbling,” said Belinda, “you’re scaring my friend off. Please, come with us, Bonnie. I promise you they’ll behave. It’ll just be like old times, when we were the Two B’s, just that it’s now the Six B’s.”

Bonnie smiled while her thoughts were racing. It would indeed be nice to spend some time with Belinda, Bonnie had missed her quite a lot over the years. And her story-filled mind craved an actual adventure in real life. But she also really needed a quiet weekend alone, it had been a stressful week.

Plus, her feelings were a little hurt. Back in the day, the Two B’s had only been the two of them, Belinda and Bonnie, nobody else was allowed in the club. That had been the rule.

Apparently, that wasn’t true any more.

Bonnie felt hurt on a deep, personal level. It even went so far, that it ruined the treasured memory of something she had never shared with anyone, not even Belinda.

Because Bonnie had always thought of the Two B’s as the “To Be's”, a reference to Shakespeare’s “To be or not to be”. Every time they had called themselves by their club’s nickname, Bonnie couldn’t help but think of that famous line: to be, or not to be, that is the question.

She cynically thought that in terms of their friendship being unique, the answer had to be a “not to be” after all. That realisation made Bonnie pretty sad and stung quite a bit, but then, to her surprise, her thoughts turned somewhat angry.

Billy, Bobby, and Becky weren’t even names that started with a B, there were just nicknames that started with a B. Those certainly weren’t their birth names. Unlike Belinda and Bonnie, those were proper B-names. And Buck, what kind of name was that? Was that even his given name or just some random word he called himself?

Bonnie didn’t care to find out. The more she thought about it, the more she was looking forward to her time on the sofa with a good book in one hand a an ice cream cone in the other.

* * *

Three hours later, Bonnie got out of the one car they had all shared, thinking that she really needed to work on her ability to say “no”. She had been cooped up in the middle seat in the back of the car with Belinda to her right and Buck and Becky to her left.

Those two had been sharing a seat and had been furiously making out for the whole drive. Sitting next to them had been uncomfortable to say the least.

After everyone had stepped out of the car, the others walked over to the lawn. It was lined with a row of greyish white stones of all different shapes and sizes. The five youths lifted various of the little rocks and put them down again, getting more and more frustrated with every stone.

“Are you sure that’s our way in, jackass?” said Bobby.

“Yeah, blockhead. It has to be under one of these stones. The stone’s fist-sized, that’s all I know, ahem, I mean, remember,” replied Buck with a sideways glance at Bonnie.

“Good thing you brought me with you then because I just found it.” Becky put down a small rock and handed the key over to Buck.

“Everything’s better with you around, baby. Who would I screw if you weren’t here?”

“Yourself,” interjected Bobby, which made everybody laugh. Even Bonnie couldn’t stifle a chuckle.

Bonnie entered the house last. Its big, impressive entrance hall had a marble floor, and two wide hallways branched off to either side. But what really caught Bonnie’s eye was a long polished wooden display table with beautiful stone sculptures on top. All three of them were about the size of a wine bottle and depicted dancing fairies. The car keys were hanging from the forearm of the middle one, and it almost looked like the keys were a part of the sculpture’s attire. Behind the table, a broad, polished wooden flight of stairs went up to the upper floor.

Becky and Buck were already stumbling up the stairs. They were half tripping, half making out, as they moved towards what was probably the bedrooms, scattering the house key and several items of clothing all over the steps.

From her left, Bonnie heard Bobby howl, “Jackpot. There’s a lot of expensive-looking booze in the liquor cabinet.”

“Then let’s get shit-faced. There’s not even any reception out here, so we’ve got nothing better to do anyway,” was Billy’s answer. It was coming from the same direction.

Bonnie went the other way, down the hall to the right. There was a door not far down the corridor labelled “Guest Bathroom”. From there, the hallway continued around a corner to the left. Bonnie turned the corner and suddenly stood in a wide kitchen.

It had a country-style wooden look, and a long row of windows straight ahead directed the view to a huge and well-kept garden.

There was also a row of smaller windows to Bonnie’s right, where the stove and sink were located right next to the fridge. The refrigerator was currently open and half of Belinda’s body seemed to be lost in the vast space it opened up into. Bonnie had never seen a fridge this huge in all her life.

Belinda had a disappointed look on her face when she closed the large silver door.

“It’s turned off. There’s nothing in there.”

“Well, there’s always the cupboards,” said Bonnie with a smile.

Half an hour later, the house was filled with the lovely smell of a hearty home-cooked meal that mostly consisted of canned food. Bonnie and Belinda had both always had a knack for cooking and used to cook together quite often, so they managed to create a rather delicious meal even though they had no fresh ingredients at hand.

Becky put the first two plates of noodles with “tomato sauce à la surprise” on the long wooden table. It had eight chairs to go with it and was clearly meant to host rather big and fancy dinners, which made it perfect for their party of six.

Buck and Becky entered the room and joined Billy and Bobby on the white sofa that was standing not far from the kitchen counter, which served as a room divider.

Buck sneered at Bonnie as he said, “We wanna eat our lunch over here, sweet Miss Proper.”

“If you make breaking conventions a rule, it becomes just another convention. But have it your way, Mister Rule Breaker,” said Belinda while bringing two plates over to the group situated around the coffee table.

Bonnie followed Belinda’s example and took the two plates she had just put down on the big table with her when she joined the others. There was hardly any room for the plates since there were already a half-empty bottle of expensive vodka and six shot glasses on the coffee table, but they managed to make it work somehow.

They sat around the small glass table, most of them sitting on the floor and putting their food and drink on the couch, ground, or their laps.

The lovely alcove by the windows looked like a mess after they had finished their meal. Becky had managed to spill tomato sauce on the delicate white fabric of the sofa, but no one seemed to care. Buck just flipped the cushion over, and that was that.

Bonnie was piling all the plates and cutlery into a tower of dirty dishes and was about to carry them to the kitchen, when Buck insisted on everyone sharing a toast. He was smoking a cigarette, using a gorgeous small ceramic bowl that had been sitting on the windowsill behind him as an improvised ashtray.

“But I don’t drink. I’ll just wash the dishes while you guys go ahead,” said Bonnie.

“What’s one drink, dear Miss Proper? I’m sure you can handle that much,” roared Buck.

“It’s not that I can’t handle it. I just don’t like the taste of alcohol.”

“Just one shot. It’s over quickly, and then you can wash it down with a tea or whatever it is that you do enjoy the taste of.”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you a chicken or what? One shot won’t even make you drunk. And I will be offended if you say no and that goes for the others too.”

They all seemed to agree, judging by the chorus of voices that followed. Bonnie was fed up with being treated like a child by most of these people, most of all Buck. So she took the shot glass he handed her and emptied it in one big gulp. She didn’t cough and didn’t even bat en eye as she put the glass back down on the table.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to wash the dishes. I don’t like living in my own filth.”

“Damn, woman. Maybe you have a backbone after all,” said Buck as Bonnie was already walking over to the sink, balancing the tower of dishes in her hands.

After Bonnie had put the dirty dishes in the sink, she noticed Belinda behind her, bringing over the shot glasses and the defiled ceramic bowl. In the background, the others were climbing out the window behind the sofa they had just sat on, trampling all over the couch while making their way to the lovely garden, completely ignoring the big slide door only a few paces away from them.

“They’re nice people once they warm up to you. It just takes them a while to let someone new in,” said Belinda while putting the glasses and bowl into the kitchen sink.

While Bonnie was still thinking about how to respond, Becky shouted from the garden, “Are you coming, Bindy? You can bring your friend.”

“Scratch that. Let little Miss Proper wash the dishes. She can join us once she’s done,” added Buck.

“Real nice people. I’m sure you’re right about that,” said Bonnie. “But I actually agree with Buck here. I prefer doing the work before play. So you guys go ahead, I’ll catch up with you later.”

“You sure? Thanks. Honestly, I’ve been dying to explore the garden. There’s this ominous slope and I want to see where it leads.”

“You go have fun, Belinda. But be careful.”

Belinda rolled her eyes and smiled as she squeezed Bonnie’s hand. Then she walked over to the sofa and climbed out the window.

Bonnie could see the others through the kitchen window while she was washing the dishes. They were standing over by the drop, looking down towards the unknown. Buck put his hands on Billy’s shoulders, pushing him forward as if he was trying to shove him over the edge, but then pulling him back. This earned him a not so soft punch in the stomach by Bobby, whose long blonde hair was blowing in the wind.

Bonnie focused on the dishes again and was a little startled when there was a soft knock on the window in front of her. Belinda smiled at her through the glass and beckoned Bonnie to follow her as she passed through to the right, following the others to a covered veranda. Bonnie couldn’t see what was over to that side because there was a waist-high wooden fence obstructing her view.

She could only see rays of golden late-afternoon light passing through the narrow slits in the fence and shadows dancing in those beams as the others moved behind it.

Being done with the dishes anyway, Bonnie decided that it was time for the fun part to begin, so she went over to the sofa, sighed at the bootprints on it and climbed out the window, too. She walked over to the wooden veranda through an open door in the fence, joining Belinda who was standing in front of a metal cage.

Belinda was staring intently at whatever was in there while grabbing Bonnie’s hand. Bonnie squeezed her friend’s hand as well and turned to see what was in the cage.

At first, she thought it was a big dog that seemed to be hiding in the shadow of the fence. But as her eyes adjusted to the darker environment of the cage, she saw that it wasn’t. The creature was much more humanoid and seemed to be squatting while its hands touched the ground. It looked completely dishevelled and seemed to be wearing scraps. In fact, the more she looked at it, the more Bonnie realised that “it” was the wrong pronoun to use. This was a woman, hiding in the shadow of the calf-covered cage. The scraps she was wearing barely covered the most delicate parts of her body.

Her face seemed to be scarred, like someone had cut her mouth open towards her ears and left a thick brownish-pink scar.

“Is that …? Is she …? Where are the others?”

Instead of saying anything, Belinda pointed her free hand at a little shack in the big cage. There were muffled noises coming form that direction, but Bonnie had almost no time to notice them because the dirt-covered woman started crawling towards them. She was moving in a strange way that didn’t seem human and was weirdly choppy.

“Are you okay, Miss? Do you need help?”

Belinda squeezed Bonnie’s hand and shushed her. The woman in the cage was still moving slowly towards them, demanding all their attention with her strange not-quite-human looks and movements, when the others suddenly burst out of the shack and came running towards the cage’s door, which had been ajar the whole time, unbeknownst to Bonnie. The terror in their eyes sent shivers down Bonnie’s spine, who took a step back, ready to run. But Belinda was still clutching Bonnie’s hand, and as Bonnie tried to pull her back and away from the cage, Belinda was frozen in place, staring at the woman crawling in the cage.

Bonnie’s gaze followed that of Belinda, and she froze as well. As the woman slowly opened her mouth for an unnatural hiss, not only her lips parted but the scar tissue also gave way to reveal an unusually long row of pointy teeth.

Bonnie stood there mesmerised, and she barely noticed how Belinda let go of her hand, screamed, and stared running, calling for Bonnie to follow.

The others had reached the cell’s door and pushed it open, so that it slammed against the metal frame of the cage, startling Bonnie into action.

She ran off the veranda and onto the lawn, perceiving that the others had already gained a lot of ground and were running towards the slope that was the natural border of the property.

“The drop is too steep,” screamed Belinda while considerably slowing down her pace.

“I’d rather take my chances crossing the river down in the valley than staying here with the family’s freaky pets,” shouted Bobby.

“Me too, babe,” were Billy’s words as he ran over the edge and disappeared quickly.

Becky fell onto the lawn and gave a little scream, which made Buck turn around and help her up before he dragged her behind him towards the edge. They had almost left Bonnie’s field of vision, holding hands, running as fast as they could, when two shadows showed up behind them, seemingly out of nowhere, and threw them to the ground.

Two monsters looking similar to the woman with the scarred cheeks except that they were apparently male, loomed over the two lovers on the ground and howled in a way that made Bonnie’s blood freeze. She had come to a standstill next to Belinda, staring helplessly at the scene.

As the two monsters lowered their huge mouths towards their victims and ran their claws into the lover’s backs, another shadow ran past them and down the slope in fast pursuit of the two young men.

Bonnie, suddenly aware of her situation, tore her gaze from the ghastly scene in front of her, and pulled Belinda towards the window of the villa.

“Come on, Belinda, we’ve gotta get to the mansion and barricade ourselves in there. It’s our only chance. We can call the police in there. There must be a land-line phone somewhere.”

Her words actually reached Belinda despite her frozen state, but they had the opposite effect of what Bonnie had intended.

Belinda suddenly turned on her heel, violently broke free of Bonnie’s grip, and started running towards the slope, following the others to what could only be seen as certain doom. With her friend out of reach, Bonnie screamed at the top of her lungs, “Belinda, what the fuck! It’s this way!”

As if shocked by Bonnie’s sudden out-of-character profanity, Belinda actually turned around and started to move towards the villa instead.

Bonnie had already reached the window and was climbing in when the unnatural hiss from before came from the veranda. She turned her head just in time to catch a glimpse of the woman who had mesmerised both her and Belinda, before Bonnie slipped through the open window and into the parlour.

Standing on the sofa, Bonnie was holding the window open, ready to slam it shut as soon as Belinda joined her.

Bonnie watched her childhood friend run towards her, with the two dead bodies lying on the ground behind her. The monsters that had been feasting on them had finally let off and were now heading for the slope instead, joining the chase of the boys whose screams were echoing in the vale.

Belinda was getting closer to the window, and Bonnie felt a wild, almost fiery hope growing in her chest. But then she noticed the two lovers in the background getting up from the ground.

Those two looked at each other with animal-like eyes, and their faces moved in towards each other as if they were about to kiss. But instead, they sank their teeth in each others flesh, biting the others neck with animalistic delight and ripping out pieces of muscle with long, pointy teeth. As they slowly ate each other with pleasure, their mouths tore open all the way to their ears, showing an unnaturally long row of teeth ready to devour each other as well as anyone else.

Bonnie screamed a very high-pitched, long cry as she saw that carnal display of consuming love, which drew the attention of everyone around. Belinda turned her head mid-run, which made her lose her balance and stumble, and the monsters that had been Becky and Buck only mere moments ago looked up from their bloody embrace.

They looked at Bonnie for a moment and then focused their attention on Belinda. Their desire for prey must have beaten their lust for each other because they both stood up in almost perfect synchronisation, moving in a strangely choppy way.

Belinda, who had fallen onto the ground, shrieked at the sight of them and then started crawling towards Bonnie and the safety of the mansion. As their eyes met again, both young women saw a terror in the other’s gaze that was beyond anything they had ever seen before.

Bonnie waved her left hand in a frantic motion and yelled, “They’re gaining on you, Belinda! You won’t make it in time crawling. Get up and run!”

Stumbling to her feet, Belinda accelerated her run while the monsters got closer to her as well as the window, making Bonnie’s heart pound faster and faster with every step they drew nearer.

With their inhuman speed, the two monsters had almost reached her when Belinda made it to the window. Bonnie wrapped her right hand tightly around Belinda’s forearm, ready to pull her in when the look on her friend’s face suddenly made her stop.

Belinda’s eyes went from alight with hope and adrenaline to black with despair and pain in an instant. She looked down at her own belly and tears ran down her cheeks while she tried to suppress a groan.

Bonnie’s eyes followed those of Belinda and arrived at her belly, where she saw a thin red line form from Belinda’s chest to her navel. It erupted into a gaping hole, spilling blood and little bits onto the windowsill and all over the white couch. Little droplets got sprayed all over Bonnie’s blouse, face, neck, and forearms, making her feel strangely wet and warm.

Looking into her friend’s terrified eyes, Bonnie saw the monsters bloody faces coming ever closer and their clawed hands gripping Belinda’s torso.

Without a conscious thought, the hand that had been ready to pull her friend to safety now pushed her away instead when Bonnie drove Belinda into the two monsters while she slammed the window shut with her other hand.

The expression in Belinda’s eyes went from sheer terror to utter disbelief as she realised what had just happened. Bonnie had slammed the window shut before the three outside hit the ground, and she was already on her way to the kitchen when the two monsters started feasting on her childhood friend.

When Bonnie arrived at the entrance hall, she could hear claws scratching against the front door. Panicked, she looked around and saw the key still lying on the stairs. She grabbed it as fast as she could and ran to the door, practically throwing herself against it as the doorknob started turning.

The sudden impact must have startled the monster, giving Bonnie enough time to shove the key into the hole and lock the door. She silently cursed the fact that she couldn’t just walk out the front door and drive off back to civilisation to get away from this nightmare and maybe even get help for the others. Perhaps there was a way to reverse this transformation. With science and medicine being as advanced as they were nowadays, there was still some hope, wasn’t there?

The scratching at the door started again and was followed by loud banging noises. Horrified, Becky ran over to the display table and took the car keys from the arm of the dancing fairy. Then she walked past the sculptures and took a running start, so that she ascended the stairs two steps at a time.

While running upstairs, Bonnie couldn’t help but notice that whenever someone went upstairs in a horror story, they usually ended up being the next victim. But she obviously had no other choice. Bonnie suddenly knew what it was like to be the character the reader or movie-goer cursed at for doing the stupid thing.

At the top of the stairs was a big open space filled with many beautiful works of art: more sculptures, several old as well as modern paintings, and even the furniture clearly consisted of artisan pieces. There were several doors, and on instinct, Bonnie opened the one that was straight ahead.

She entered the master bedroom. Sweeping the room with her gaze for a way out, she couldn’t completely ignore its beauty. The wide open space of the gabled bedroom held a gorgeous light-coloured wooden desk and chair, and a big closet to go with it.

There was a canopy bed with untidy bedclothes – this was most likely courtesy of Becky and Buck – and behind it, the room opened up to a balcony that went along the whole length of the room, overlooking the garden. Bonnie recognised the balcony as a possible way out, but then again, the garden wasn’t at all where she wanted to be.

A little door to the left caught Bonnie’s eye when she was scanning the room. She went over there and opened it, which was how she found herself in the master bathroom. She hardly noticed the bathtub, toilet, and towel racks, but instead focussed her attention to the dormer window next to the washbasin.

Following her instincts once more, Bonnie climbed out the window and onto the roof. The sun was slowly setting behind the gable as she started her ascend. The tiles were easier to navigate than she thought, so that she reached and straddled the house’s topmost point in no time.

Now, all Bonnie had to do was to climb down the other side of the roof and find a way down the facade of the building on the other side to get to the car. She figured that that shouldn’t be too hard because from up here, she could overlook nearly everything.

Scanning the area, Bonnie’s heart sank, and her newfound enthusiasm went as quickly as it had come. Even though they hadn’t spotted her yet, she could see the monsters everywhere. There were several in the garden, two of which looked like Bobby and Billy, who must have been caught down the slope and came back up to join the others.

Other monsters, some of the original cage dwellers by the looks of it, were circling the premises. Even up on the roof, Bonnie could still hear someone banging against the entrance door, making it infinitely harder to reach the car.

Yet that was still her best bet. If she could divert their attention somehow – maybe by throwing a roof tile to lure them away from the door and the car – she might be able to escape. Feeling hope’s spark kindled once again in her chest, Bonnie made her way down the other side of the roof.

She had only swung her leg off the gable to begin her descend when she heard a scratching noise behind her. She froze mid-motion and then slowly turned her head towards the noise. Even in her despair, Bonnie had to smile. It was always the harmless-looking ones.

The woman from the cage lifted herself up the edge of the roof as if it was no feat at all, and then pulled up Belinda in one smooth, sweeping motion. Both of them stared at Bonnie with eyes filled with hunger.

Slowly but surely, and with her gaze fixed on the approaching monsters with their long rows of teeth glistening in the setting sun, Bonnie started climbing down the roof towards the car and towards freedom.

To be, or not to be, that is the question that would be answered for Bonnie shortly.

—Submitted by Lone-Eyed

[housekeepingtoronto]

Cleaning Tips

73 easy cleaning tips that you need to know!

We have put together some of our best home cleaning tips and tricks to help you get an impeccable home for a fraction of the price. Lots of natural, cheap, fast, useful and cheerful cleaning tips, with everything from foil to vinegar and lemons, which should save you time and money when cleaning your home.

1. Use a wet rubber glove to remove pet hair.

If Fido and Felix have ruined your house and are making you sneeze, there is a cheap and easy solution. A wet wash glove can easily be dragged on soft furniture such as sofas and curtains (and even the legs of the pants!) To remove animal hair.

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2. Use a flip flop to remove pet hair

You don't have gloves to wash? Use a rubber flip-flop (clean!) On your furniture it will work just as well. It is especially useful if (like us) is constantly losing flip flops and ends with the odd ones.

3. Use a coffee filter to clean glass or mirrors easily

Ah coffee, you are what brings us out of bed, and now we have discovered that you offer much more. Step up dirty windows without any chemicals: simply move them with a clean coffee filter. It works like magic.

4. Wear socks to prevent your vacuum from accumulating coins

Don't throw those socks with a ladder! Save money and small precious items by using the foot of a pair of socks on your vacuum nozzle. It will capture any changes, hair bands and other pieces before they are absorbed.

5. Clean your microwave naturally with a cup of water

If your microwave looks a bit unhealthy after too many food explosions, don't worry, you can clean it for free in a jiffy. Simply place a cup of heat-resistant water with half a lemon and its juice in the microwave at high temperature for a minute or two. 1. Leave the mixture in the microwave with the door closed for 5 minutes for the steam to do its job, then easily clean the inside of your microwave. Lemon will let your whole kitchen smell clean and fresh!

6. Reuse cleaning sponges, simply clean them in the microwave

It may seem that you are constantly buying new packages of kitchen and bathroom cleaning sponges, and not only do the costs add up, but it is not good for the environment to keep throwing away the dirty ones. Get more use of your cleaning sponges by giving them a quick blast of one or two minutes in the microwave in a high setting. This will kill the bacteria.

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7. Make a quick natural cleaning product for your entire home

Feel like a magician who saves money with this easy-to-eat recipe. Simply mix four tablespoons of baking soda and a liter of warm water to make a cheap and natural universal cleaner. Use it generously on your surfaces, floors and anywhere else you need a scrub.

8. Great tip to save money: clean the scale of lime in your shower with vinegar

We love it when we can make the ingredients in the kitchen cabinet become a cleaning product that eliminates germs. If you're looking for a more natural (not to mention thrifty) way to clean your home from top to bottom, Vinegar is your new best friend. Soak your shower head in a mixture of boiling water and vinegar to easily unclog any lime. More vinegar cleaning tips.

9. Use baby oil to remove fingerprints from stainless steel.

Baby oil is not only for smoothing and softening the skin, it is also a genius for lifting fat. If your kitchen hood or other stainless steel appliances are dirty with finger marks, place a small amount of baby oil on a clean microfiber cloth and clean them.

10. Use an old toothbrush to clean your bathroom

Do not throw away your old toothbrush, it can be a really useful tool. Rinse it in boiling water to eliminate germs and use it to enter corners and cracks that your vacuum cannot reach. It is especially useful in the bathroom, to clean hard-to-reach areas around the tap or drain.

11. Top cleaning tip: use a fabric softener sheet to prevent your container from smelling

There is nothing more annoying than emptying the trash to discover that it still smells bad afterwards. If you have a stinky container, place a fabric softener sheet next to the container bag for an instant air freshener. You can also experiment with different scented varieties.

12. Stop the shoes smell like baking soda

Again, baking soda to the rescue! If your sneakers or day shoes have seen too many sweaty walks and are getting a bit annoying, it is an easy problem to remedy. Sprinkle some baking soda on smelly trainers for an instant lift.

13. Get stains of wood marker with toothpaste

If the grandchildren have gone crazy with the markers on their railings, table or anything else made of wood, gently rub it with a little toothpaste to remove the stain. Then go and give them a good scolding and a nice (easy to erase) pencil set instead!

14. Clean the brush quickly with water and washing liquid

We don't really think about cleaning our hair brushes (apart from removing hair), but when you think about it, it makes sense that they get dirty with grease and the accumulation of products, just like our hair. Get rid of debris from hair spray, dry shampoo or any other hair product by mixing washing liquid and warm water and taking a dip.

15. Make a natural cleaning product with scented vinegar to help at home

Mix a part of white vinegar with a part of water to make a basic household spray (ideal for anyone suffering from allergies, as it is very mild). Can't stand the smell of fish and chips? Add some fresh herbs to the mixture: sage has a particularly clean smell, but you can experiment with anything that is really growing in your garden.

16. Unblock a clogged drain for free with baking soda

Baking soda to the rescue once again! This time it is a wonder to unlock hair or clogged drains. Pour a part of baking soda, followed by a part of vinegar, then cover with a damp cloth while the two react with each other to clean the drain naturally. Wait five minutes and then run hot water to clean it.

17. Clean the white shoes with toothpaste

Tennis shoes a little dirty? Coaches don't look so new after some muddy walks? No one will know that they are not fresh out of the box with this easy trick. White striped sports shoes can revive by rubbing with toothpaste. Slightly mint smell, an advantage.

18. Clean the kitchen cabinets with liquid detergent

Greasy and stained food cabinets can give you a new chance of life when you mix a stream of liquid detergent with some warm water; It is amazing how much dirt will come out of your sponge. Once you've seen it, you'll make sure that this becomes commonplace on your to-do list!

19. Clean your cutting board with lemon

Our cutting boards are used a lot, from joints of meat and fish fillets, to cutting fruits and vegetables almost every night, so it is not surprising that they end up a little tired. Lemons are excellent for removing stains from cutting boards, as well as to eliminate any smell. Still not changing? Sprinkle with baking soda and repeat.

20. Silver shines quickly with toothpaste

If you are lucky enough to own some precious silver pieces and bobs, keeping them in optimal condition could not be simpler. Improve those wedding gifts and silver jewelry with a little water and some toothpaste. Rinse and dry with a cloth and it should look like new. We believe it is one of the most satisfactory cleaning jobs.

21. Clean garden furniture with liquid detergent

If your patio furniture looks neglected after a busy summer, you should remove any spots of rain, lichen and bird droppings as soon as possible. Add a stream of liquid detergent to a bucket of warm water and rub the garden table and chairs. Then rinse them with the hose.

22. Quick tip: stop rusting on garden furniture with tomato sauce

If your patio furniture has also oxidized, apply a bit of ketchup before rubbing it with a cloth; Rust will rise immediately. Then use the rest of the bottle on a delicious summer barbecue!

23. Get rid of stains on clothes at a low price with liquid detergent

It is so frustrating to stain clothes with food or drink, and why does it always seem to be our favorite outfit? Do not fear, all is not lost. Rub the washing liquid directly on the stain and then rinse with water; It works on most fabrics, including wool or delicate silk, provided you do so immediately.

24. Use ketchup to make your copper pans shine

Copper is having a fashionable moment right now, and copper pans are a great way to modernize your kitchen. If they get dirty after use, there is a cheap solution hidden in your closet. The humble tomato sauce is really excellent for cleaning, and will make the copper pans shine after a quick massage.

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25. Remove wood furniture marks with a nut

Have you scraped your railings with the washing basket or hit your socket by taking off your shoes? Sounds strange, but a walnut (without shell) rubbed on furniture, floors or wooden rails scratched or scratched will be a pleasure.

26. Clean your bathroom with vodka

Is there a bottle of unloved vodka from a meeting? If you don't like making cocktails, you can always use it to make your porcelain accessories shine! Rub a little on a soft cloth and rub them.

27. Stop your pantry looking smelly with baking soda

Do you think the sheets and towels smell a bit stale during storage? Take out the baking soda again to prevent your linen closet from smelling damp. Leaving an open box of baking soda inside will mask odors.

28. Remove carpet stains with liquid detergent.

If you have just spilled a glass of wine, or something stained, on your carpet, act by dissolving a tablespoon of washing liquid in two cups of warm water and drying the stain until it disappears. Then, sponge the carpet with cold water and dry it.

29. Stop squeaking floors with baby powder

If you keep waking your husband by stepping on crunchy boards on the floor at night, he will thank you for trying this easy trick. Use talcum powder or baby powder to silence the noisy wooden floors. Drop a little to the ground and sweep in the cracks, cleaning up the excess.

30. Remove coffee stains with toothpaste.

Dirty mug? Like coffee stains on teeth, the answer to your problem is in the bathroom cabinet. Get rid of tea or coffee stains from your favorite cup by rubbing with toothpaste. Then rinse thoroughly to make sure your next drink has no mint flavor.

31. Use baking soda to clean your dishwasher

Keeping your dishwasher in good working order will save you a lot of money in the long run, and it's easy to do. To begin, shake the baking soda on a damp sponge and clean it around the edges of your dishwasher to remove any food residue.

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32. Excellent cleaning advice: remove grease stains from glued clothing

If you have spots of oily food on a beloved shirt, you can save it thanks to an unlikely ally. Add a simple coke cake to your washing machine along with your detergent and run it in a normal cycle. The acid in the drink will help dissolve difficult stains.

33. Clean stains from your toilet with Coca-Cola

And that is not all that this humble soda can offer in terms of cleanliness. Put a dirty loo back to a bright white by pouring a can of cola. Let it sit in the bowl overnight, quickly rub it with a brush and then rinse the next morning to get a great effect.

34. Put a lemon in your refrigerator so it smells good

Why do so many of our favorite foods leave our stinky refrigerator? Cut a lemon in half and place one on the top shelf, one on the bottom shelf, to mask strong odors in your refrigerator.

35. Get rid of burning smells with salt

Burned your dinner? If the house now smells like burning, just sprinkle some salt on your burned pots or any food disaster to reduce it. Then reduce your losses and order a takeaway!

36. Clean your free pans with aluminum foil

Aluminum foil has many uses: on the one hand, you can use it instead of a scourer. Simply drag it into a ball and rub pots and pans. It's a great way to recycle your sandwich wrap, as well as save you money.

37. Sharpen your scissors with aluminum foil

Scissors break so easily, especially if you use them to cut paper or wrap gifts. But you don't need to replace them. Simply use your scissors to cut a piece of foil to sharpen them in an instant.

38. Remove the lime from your plate with vinegar

Keep your iron working well by removing excess lime. Simply heat it, unplug it and let it cool a bit. Fill the tank with a part of white vinegar for a part of water. Leave it for an hour, then empty and rinse.

39. Seal an envelope with nail polish

If you have a duff envelope that simply does not seal, or if you want to reseal a letter that was opened, use a drop of nail polish to glue it again. Opt for a transparent nail polish if you don't want it to look weird! We also like to use transparent nail varnish to prevent the stairs from spreading in our socks, so it is worth investing in a bottle to keep in the house.

40. Protect wood or laminate floors with a tennis ball.

Prevent your wooden or laminate floors from scratching with chairs or other furniture by cutting the tennis balls in half and placing them on the end of the chair, table and sofa legs as floor protectors.

41. Polish furniture with olive oil

In addition to having great health benefits, olive oil can be useful at home. Put a few drops in a duster and use it to polish your wooden furniture, much better than chemical polishing, and it will not cause any strong smell.

42. Cheap tip: wear old socks as dusters

Do you have a hole in your socks? Don't throw them away, give them a wash and then use them as a duster. The same goes for weird socks (which we always seem to finish, no matter how carefully we wash our clothes).

43. Use a pastry brush to clean the crumbs of your toaster

Obtain hard-to-reach crumbs and burnt pieces of your toaster by unplugging and sweeping with a pastry brush. This will help your toaster last longer and make crumbs less likely to catch and smell.

44. Get rid of greasy footprints on the walls with white bread

Sounds strange, but rubbing the finger marks with a slice of white bread will give your walls a new chance of life. We are not sure how someone discovered this, but we are grateful that they did ...

45. Prevent your washing machine from smelling vinegar

Washer smelly? Run it empty in a hot wash with a cup of white vinegar inside. This will also help remove lime and mold, making the machine last longer and clean more efficiently.

46. ​​Clean your iron with salt and foil

If you have a dirty iron, remove accumulated dirt from the bottom with salt and foil. Turn on the iron and pass it on a piece of aluminum foil sprinkled with salt.

47. Clean your bathroom with a grapefruit

Get rid of water marks or stains in your bathtub by cutting a grapefruit in half, sprinkling some rock salt and giving it a good scrub. Have the other half for a nutritious breakfast!

48. Kitchen cleaning tip: decalcify your kettle with vinegar

Remove the lime from your kettle by filling it with half white vinegar, half water and soak overnight. In the morning, rinse it and the lime will disappear. Not only will your kettle last longer, but your drinks will also taste better (assuming you've washed the vinegar!)

49. Get rid of clothes moths naturally with herbs

Clothes moths make us very angry, and once you have them they can be difficult to remove. Make a natural repellent for clothing moths by packing some dried herbs such as lavender, clove, bay leaf, rosemary or thyme and placing it in your closet and drawers.

50. Use Vaseline to shine your shoes

Lack of bitumen? Use some reliable petroleum jelly to shine in a jiffy. It is also cheap.

51. Remove watermarks and cup rings from tables with a hair dryer.

If someone has not used a roller coaster and has marked their coffee table, use a hair dryer before cleaning the area with a small amount of olive oil. Hey-presto, good as new.

52. Clean your blinds with vinegar

Blinds can be a magnet for dust, dead insects and floating fluff. Make them look like new with an old sock. Mix a part of white vinegar with a part of warm water and rub the blinds with an old sock to remove dust and dirt.

53. Clean and disinfect your dishwasher with vinegar

Place two cups of undiluted vinegar in a dishwasher-safe container on the top shelf of an empty dishwasher and put it in a hot cycle. It should help clean the pipes and make it smell better.

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54. Make a bleach of natural clothes with lemon

If the white clothes and the bedding have turned yellow or are marked with orange spots, squeeze the juice of a lemon into 4.5 liters of hot water and immerse your clothes in it for an hour. Then rinse in the washing machine or by hand and dry.

55. Remove rust from cutlery with an onion

There is no need to cry for rusty cutlery, unless cutting an onion makes you cry. If your knives and forks have rusted, glue their ends on an onion a couple of times and the rust should rise immediately.

56. Cool Tupperware with baking soda

If your plastic food tubs have seen too many packed lunches or leftovers, and they are smelling or stained, you don't need to replace them. Simply invite them to a night at the spa! Soak them in the sink overnight in warm water with a tablespoon of baking soda, and the next day, after a rinse, they will look and smell again.

57. Remove adhesive stains with vinegar

If your grandchildren have been liberal with your book of stickers and have applied them to walls, doors, furniture or basically to any place where you do not want them, you will know that taking them off can leave a sticky mark. To address this, rub them several times with vinegar and let them soak for 15 minutes. Then return with a sponge and rub the mark.

58. Keep shoes shiny with hair spray

If you just gave your shoes a good shine and you want them to look flawless for as long as possible, give them some hair spray and you will see that they shine for much longer.

59. Use toothpaste to defog mirrors

If you get upset when, after a hot bath or shower, you can't see yourself in a fogged mirror, toothpaste might be the answer! Simply rub the mirror of your bathroom with toothpaste and wipe it with a clean dry cloth before showering and hey-presto: a foggy mirror easy to use.

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60. Fill the nail holes in your wall with toothpaste

It seems crazy, but toothpaste is actually a very good replacement for Polyfilla, especially if you're in a hurry. Apply holes in the wall or ceiling with toothpaste and use food coloring in the paste before applying it if you need a wall color.

61. Use a lint roller to dust off

In addition to lifting the hair of pets in your clothes (why do they always love your most elegant outfit?), Lint rollers are a useful tool to remove dust from lampshades, mantles and even shelves. Just turn it over and voila!

62. Use liquid detergent to clean the blender

Dirty blender? These small tools have a serious use in winter, from making abundant soups to cranberry sauce or even mashed potatoes. All that work can make them look dirty, so for easy cleaning, spray some detergent and some warm water and start the blender as usual, be sure to open the lid first! Then just rinse.

63. Aggie Mackenzie Cleaning Council

How clean is the star of his house, Aggie Mackenzie, emphasizes the importance of keeping your iron in the best shape. To remove any excess lime in an old iron (which will block the steam holes) heat the iron, then unplug it and let it cool. Fill the reservoir with a solution of one part of clear vinegar in one part of water, leave it for an hour or so, then empty and rinse several times with clean water.

64. Polish leather with toothpaste

If you have a leather sofa, a jacket or shoes that are slightly worn, you can easily polish them with toothpaste. Just be sure to use paste without bleach or bleach to avoid stains. Rub it with a soft cloth and then rinse it with a wet one.

65. Use petroleum jelly to stop squeaky drawers

If you have a sticky closet door or a drawer that makes noise every time you open it, make things run smoothly again with a little petroleum jelly. It also works to loosen the hinges with ease.

66. Clean brushed stainless steel with baby oil.

Remove fingerprints, old food and stains from your pans and stainless steel appliances with just a drop of baby oil, rub them on a square of paper towels. However, it is worth noting that this only works for brushed stainless steel.

67. Remove the gum from clothes using the freezer

If you have sat down to chew gum or have put it in your clothes, you will know what pain it is to remove it. But this is where your kitchen comes in! Put your clothes in the freezer for a few hours: frozen chewing gum is much easier to pick up or cut.

68. Get rid of the dirty ring around the neck of a shirt with shampoo

It is easy for sweat, oil and general dirt to stick to the collar of a shirt and ruin your most elegant outfits. If you refuse to give in the washing machine, do not dispose of it! Simply gently rub some of your normal shampoo, rub it a bit and then put it back in the washing machine.

69. Remove stains from the sofa with shaving foam.

If your sofa looks worse, use a little shaving foam on any stain, let it stand, then clean it to remove the shaving foam, and the stain!

70. Balls that block odors

Block unpleasant odors from drawers, shoes or bags by filling a coffee filter with baking soda and adding a few drops of your favorite essential oil. Secure it with an elastic band and place it anywhere you need to cool off!

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71. Easy keyboard cleaning hack

Easily clean the small corners and cracks of your keyboard or other small electronic devices by placing the pointed lid of a tight ketchup bottle on the end of a vacuum cleaner. It will quickly remove any dust or crumbs.

72. Use a squeegee to clean the skin

If the vacuum does not remove unwanted hair from animals, try using a squeegee as an effective solution on the sofa, carpet or other delicate upholstery!

73. Clean your remote control

If you are concerned that your remote control collects dirt and bacteria from daily use, try cleaning it with a small amount of hand sanitizer and a paper towel. For greater effectiveness, use a cotton swab to get those hard-to-reach pieces between the buttons!

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