#what a good way to show 'teenage girl tries to go cold turkey on showing her crush attention'

[doverstar]

don't think I'll ever get over how tickled I was watching JATP for the first time during Edge of Great and how Luke kept expecting Julie to interact with him in that special way during the song and she was trying so hard not to and they had him so intentionally want it and notice it not happening and keep trying to get it. like I think about that all the time. it was so juicy. so fun to be in agony for their lil teenage romance during one song in her driveway. Perfect Harmony was nice but. I need more delicious experiences like that in shows

[goggles-mcgee]

i’m really loving the Wish me Away au idea! Would you be up to writing about what the batfam does after seeing mari’s reaction to emilie and adrien?

Like an actually little drabble? Yeah sure! It'll be based off the headcanons from this post -> 👶

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Bruce couldn't remember having so much fun, he always loved to brag about his kids and show them off at work, but it was a little hard when it was 'Bring Your Kid To Work Day' and most of your kids worked with you. That's why he was so happy bringing little Marietta with him to Wayne Enterprises, he also brought Damian but Damian had wandered off to see what Dick did since, and he quotes, "I know everything about you father. If I am to be your successor it is only natural I familiarize myself with your work. I believe it would be beneficial for me to oversee Grayson's work ethic."

Honestly, Damian could have just said he wanted to see what Dick did but that was just part of Damian's charm. Before he had left, Damian had let Marietta grab his finger and give it a little shake which delighted her, if Bruce was not mistaken, Damian had even smiled before he said bye to the both of them. The boy had really grown to love Mari and Bruce could not be more proud of his son. Though, he had to admit, all of his children were absolutely enamored with the baby, not to say he wasn't, but Lord have mercy on anyone who dared mess with his baby girl. She would have an army behind her of overprotective brothers and sisters, and father and mother, and grandfather, and cow...and turkey...and dogs...and cats...and dragon bat....and semi-god things that called themselves kwamis...and two very very powerful almost godlike godparents (Diana and Clark.) Now Bruce didn't like to think about it but he did also have to add Mari's....friends to that list... i.e. some of his rogues, which yes was fucking bizarre beyond all reason, but some had even cut back on crime because of their friendship with his little mini-hero so that was a plus. Right?

Well that was a thought for another day, now he got to take his little girl around and take her into meetings, which was certainly going to be interesting, but Marietta always seemed interested in watching him work so he wasn't too worried. He packed her plenty of snacks along with her lunch that Alfred made, he made sure to pack her favorite toys and a variety of coloring books and markers and crayons. And of course he remembered to pack cookies for Tikki who was riding in the hood of Marietta's dress. Plus he made sure to pack a little first aid kid just in case, also another sweater for Marietta in case she got cold.

He liked to be prepared. Sue him.

First meeting of the day was with a Ms. Graham de Vanily. If his memory served right this was Emilie and not Amelie who he had spoken with in the past. Not for the first time he had to wonder what possessed their parents to name the identical twin sisters Emilie and Amelie, but apparently she had brought along her son as well so that made this meeting a little less awkward. He adjusted his hold on Marietta before he continued on his walk to his office where he would be meeting Ms. Emilie, he had hoped to show his daughter around more when they had arrived but he had actually forgotten about this particular meeting and so hadn't rescheduled it to a time when he would hand over Marietta to one of her brother's since they deemed it "unfair" that only he got to show her his work.

Honestly his boys. They were wonderful but boy did they get jealous of one another if Marietta gave one more attention than the other. He fondly remembered one family game night where all the boys were asking who Mari's favorite brother is and she had just been laughing at all the attention not really understanding and it was the first time Bruce had witnessed Damian giving someone a smile and opening his arms for a hug. Of course he had done it behind all his siblings backs and only Alfred and Bruce himself had seen it. It was a sight to see everyone's face when Mari giggled out a, "Dami!", and ran over to him. When everyone turned around he was back to his stoic face but he was hugging Marietta and she was snuggling herself against him but as he looked at everyone he gave them a small smirk. There was an uproar, a demand for a retest, but Damian wouldn’t have it and it had been one of the most chaotic nights in the Manor. Selina had been very entertained especially when Marietta somehow made her way out of the gaggle of children and waddled over to her and had climbed in her lap very clumsily before plopping herself down and making herself comfortable, almost like a cat Bruce had thought, before smiling up at Selina. Selina had just turned to Bruce and said in a complete monotone voice, “I would die for this child.” 

Him and Selina hadn't tied the knot yet so to say, nor had he proposed. They were trying their hand at dating again but he couldn't help the way his heart skipped and his mind conjured up images of tuxedos, lace, friends and family, cakes and kisses, and rings and vows exchanged, when his baby girl, his little Marietta looked up at Selina and called her Maman. Bruce wondered if she ever shared his thoughts, he almost convinced himself she did whenever he saw her melt and practically purr when Mari, or as Selina liked to call her, Kitten, would call her Maman. He could see the love in the older woman's eyes and he had no doubt in his heart that this time, they would work out, this time they would get their 'happily ever after' or whatever came close to it.

He was ripped from his thought when he heard his baby girl giggle at something Lucius said.

"Morning Lucius."

"And good morning to you Mr. Wayne. I see you brought the little one."

"Yes. I promised I would bring her but I must admit, the meeting with Ms. Graham de Vanily slipped my mind." Bruce sighed out.

"I guessed as much. Well if you want, I can watch the Little Wayne while you have your meeting." Lucius offered, of course Bruce trusted him to watch Marietta seeing as the older man also practically adopted Mari at first sight. He was basically another grandfather to her.

"Gampa Fox!" Marietta began before dissolving into her baby babble. She was getting very good at speaking. Honestly she was very smart for a two year old.

"That's okay Lucius, I want to bring her in. Besides if her brothers spot her with you they wouldn't hesitate to snatch her up before their scheduled times. If Ms. Graham de Vanily has a problem with it I will insist on a reschedule. It's not everyday I get some one on one time with Marietta." Bruce admitted.

"You know one day someone is going to say no to you despite your good looks, money and reputation. Fine. Head on in, our guest is already here, which by the way, I don't think she will mind Mari seeing as she brought her own son to this meeting." Lucius sighed but he gave Mari a little wave and pointed Bruce to one of the smaller meeting rooms they had in Wayne Enterprises.

"Aww Lucius you think I'm good looking?"

"Go."

"Yes sir." Bruce chuckled out with a brief wave before he made his way over to the meeting room Lucius had pointed to and gently rapped his knuckled on the outside door despite the room being visible from outside because of the large windows. He heard a feminine voice call out from inside so he entered,

“Remember your manners Marietta and if you need anything don’t be shy.” Bruce told his daughter softly as they walked in, he chuckled when she nodded enthusiastically. As soon as he caught sight of the blonde woman he put on his best business smile. “Ah, Ms. Graham de Vanily, so sorry to keep you waiting. I must admit that this meeting slipped my mind.”

“No worries Mr. Wayne, I don’t believe this will be long. I see you brought your daughter. I brought my son! Adrien say hi.” Ms. Graham de Vanily light-heartedly scolded her son and tapped his shoulder. When Bruce took his seat and placed Marietta on his lap he finally got a good look at them both. Both mother and son were blond, her son, Adrien was a teenager, from the looks of it he was 16 maybe even 17. When his mother tapped him on the shoulder he sat up straighter than when he was slouching so obviously he didn’t want to come. So why bring him then? 

“Hello Mr. Wayne, it’s an honor to meet you.” Adrien greeted him with a model smile, he had seen enough to spot them from the real deal.

“Likewise. Marietta, can you say ‘hello’ to our guests?” Bruce asked gently down to his daughter who was being uncharacteristically quiet. Usually she would already saying ‘hi’ and waving, maybe even trying to get a high five or hand shake. Though now she was hiding her face in his chest and hugging her backpack to her, she made a small noise like a whimper and Bruce was absolutely dumbfounded. His daughter had never acted like this before, not even with Joker for crying out loud yet here she was trembling and trying to hide herself in his arms. He didn’t know what was going on but his daughter was scared so he scooped her up and held her closer to him but she still tried to pull herself closer. Finally Bruce caught sight of Tikki inside Marietta’s open backpack and saw her antennae-like things pulled back and her eyes narrowed as the kwami glared at Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son, if he wasn’t mistaken she was even glowing a faint red especially as she stared at Adrien. Bruce didn’t understand what was causing these reactions but he did know one thing, he wasn’t going to make Marietta sit there.

“I apologize. She’s not normally like this, I think it would be best if I take her to one of her brothers if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh...no worries at all. I’m sorry if we scared her somehow.” The woman actually sounded genuine but Bruce wasn’t going to risk anything, especially with how her son actually looked at his daughter for the first time that they walked in there.

“I’m sure that’s not the case, but it will probably be best to take her to one of her brothers that way we can get through this meeting. I will be fast.” With that he was out the room and speedwalking down the hall over to Lucius’s office. “I don’t have time to explain but Marietta was acting strange around Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son and Tikki as well. Can you take her to one of her brothers please? Just inform me who and I will go pick her up after the meeting.”

Lucius on his part did his best not to ask questions knowing Bruce didn’t have the time but he did raise a brow that told Bruce he would be answering those unasked questions later. “Of course. I’ll go see what Dick and Damian are up to.”

“Thank you Lucius.” Bruce said sincerely before he made his way back to his meeting. He had questions too and they were all for Tikki, but there would be time for that later, now it was time for business.

__________________________________________

The meeting passed and all Bruce could think about was getting to Marietta. He checked his texts from Lucius that informed him that he did indeed leave Mari with Dick and Damian so he made his way over to the central security room knowing that’s where Dick would most likely be. When he got there he was relieved to see his baby girl laughing and playing with Dick while Damian sat on a chair watching, as he walked in the two boys stood up swiftly with Dick scooping up Marietta and angling her away from the door but when they saw it was him they relaxed. “Father, Lucius told us nothing, what happened?” Damian demanded.

“I’m not sure myself. Marietta started acting scared when we got in the meeting room with Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son Adrien.” Bruce answered.

“NO!” They all stared at Marietta in shock when she screamed and tried to hide herself in Dick’s chest, then they all stared at each other with wide eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Etta what’s wrong?” Dick asked softly.

“No Adrien! No!” Marietta cried out. 

The air grew cold. Bruce could hear his son’s gasp and he wouldn’t be surprised if he did as well. “ طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish), you’re safe. This Adrien won’t harm you I promise.” Damian cooed to Marietta.

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar).” Mari cried out wetly as she reached her hands out for him and he of course took her out of Dick’s arms and held her. 

“Tikki. Explain...please.” Bruce pleaded.

Tikki flew out of Mari’s backpack and sadly looked over at the girl before flying over to her and kissing the top of her head before flying and landing on Dick’s desk. “It’s...They are from her old life. Ad- He was her former partner...the one who wished her away. That woman shouldn’t be alive.” 

“He was the one to betray her?” Damian asked, his voice full of ice and steel. “Father I will be needing my swords. All of them.”

“Damian. No.”

“What do you mean no?” His son asked indignantly.

“Yeah what do you mean no?” Tikki asked with a tilt of her head, Bruce glared at her, she knew what she was doing.

“Tikki what do you mean that woman shouldn’t be alive?” Dick asked.

“Simply that. She was a corpse. No soul. Haw-Gab- The villain Mari had to face before, she was his wife. He wished for her life.” Tikki explained as though it made total sense to all of them.

“Yeaaaaah, you’re going to need to expand on that.” Dick said which made Tikki frown in confusion.

“While I do agree with that, maybe we should wait until we are at home to continue this conversation. You boys know how Tim and Jason will be if they aren’t informed about what happened. You boys tell them and I’ll take Marietta. We will continue on with our day, but if you see either of them lingering here alert me. I don’t want Marietta to have to interact with them at all if we can help it.” Bruce said as he gently took Marietta from Damian who looked like he wanted to do anything but give his little sister to his father.

“If I see them I have a right to defend Marietta.” Damian stated. “You can’t stop me.”

“Damian.”

“Don’t worry Bruce, at least he doesn’t have a sword on him.” Dick chuckled.

“Who said I didn’t? Was it Todd?” 

Bruce needed a break. Bruce questioned why he had so many kids not for the first time in his life. Bruce decided to ignore the fact his child admitted to having a sword somewhere on him and just did as he said he was going to do, continue his day with his daughter and if he held her a little closer to him than usual? Well it couldn’t be helped. 

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I know it’s not like the reactions yet but I am in the process of writing Wish Me Away so take this! XD

طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish): Baby Bat

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar): Big Brother

[lush-lavenders]

❀Bet {2}❀

JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: The good girl goes on a date with the bad boy and actually enjoys it. So that leads to a few more dates. A few stolen kisses. A few introductions to knew people. The catch? You might realize it sooner than later...

Request: N/A

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for all the support you guys gave me on the first part! I did not think it was going to do as well as it did. I got this out a lot sooner than I thought I would.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Cursing

Part 1

!I don’t own this gif!

“I think this is really cute.”

You laughed a little, looking at the sundress. “Of course you’d pick that, Mom.”

She gave you a look. “Tell me it’s ugly and I’ll put it back.” 

“You know I can’t say that.” You smile at her and take the dress. It was a really cute dress, to be honest.

Your smile drops a little and you sigh to yourself. “I don’t know why I’m trying to get all pampered for this.” It wasn’t like you had actually said yes to the date. You just had no choice. Yeah, that’s right.

Your mom watched you for a moment as you played with the fabric of the dress. “Because it’s your first date. Just let yourself have fun.”

“You don’t understand, Mom.” You set the dress down. “This guy’s idea of fun is smoking, drinking, and having sex. Period, end of sentence.”

She nodded, but it didn’t seem like the information was really settling in. “If he’s so out of your line of sight, why don’t you just not go?”

For some reason, that didn’t really occur to you. He seemed so dead set on taking you out, not showing up to the date wasn’t an option.

“There’s some part of you that likes him, Y/N/N. Whether you’ll admit that to Dina or not, you can’t hide it from me.”

She gave you a kiss on the forehead as she picked up the dress and went to go check out.

----

You rubbed your fingers along the case of your phone, flipping it to check the time every minute it seemed.

3:23… 3:24… 3:25…

You were only a couple minutes early. But he still wasn’t here. And you doubt he’d ever show up.

3:26…

It was probably some prank. Him and his friends thought it would be funny to mess with a tipsy Kook.

3:27…

It’s not like you had anything to give him. The Pogues didn’t care too much for what Kooks had, especially when those Kooks can barely get by in life.

3:28…

Pogue and Kook. What stupid terms. Who even came up with those?

3:29…

You felt all the anxiety you tried to fight out come out victorious. This was going to either be a set up, or a stand up. No in between, it was one or the other.

3:30…

You looked down at your sandals as you tried to kick the sand out from between your toes. 

You were overexaggerating. You knew that. Being a minute or two late wasn’t that bad. You’ve been late to important meetings and such. So why were you so upset about this?

“I didn’t think you’d show up.” 

Your head jolted up as you watched the figure of the boy approach you. He was wearing the same stupidly goofy smile as yesterday. His outfit was simple, a grey tank top with shorts, but it looked good on him.

You shrugged a little, holding onto your phone a bit tightly. “I had nothing better to do today.” You tried to cooly answer. You wanted to make up for how he saw you yesterday.

He nodded, just taking the information even though it was clear he didn’t believe it. “Well, I hope you’re wearing a bathing suit, cause we’re heading out on the water.”

“On the water?” You repeated. “Like, on a boat?”

JJ started walking backwards, holding out his hand for you to take. “Yep.”

You were hesitant, but grabbed his hand anyways. By showing up, you agreed to the date. Whether you thought of that or not. The least you could do was go along with what he has planned.

As soon as your hand touched his, he smiled and pulled you along down the beach with him.

Strangely, his hand was soft. Yes, it had a rough undertone to it, but it’s not something you’d notice if you were just shaking it or holding it for a couple seconds. There was no way he could make his hands feel like this in one night for one girl. It had to be something he worked on daily, weekly at the least.

“Say hello to the HMS Pogue.” JJ gently took your senses from your hands back to your eyes.

The boat in question had the words ‘HMS Pogue’ painted on the side of it. It was in fairly decent shape, you made sure to note in your mind.

You glanced at him, noticing he was watching for your reaction to his friends’ prized possession. 

Giving him a smile, you look back at the boat. “She’s really nice.” Usually, you’d just say something like this to get out of the conversation. You couldn’t say anything bad, in case it came back to bite you in the butt. This this, now this was genuine.

The smile he had from before seemed to grow more sincere, though that wouldn’t make sense to anyone but a person who has been watching the teenager for years.

He let go of your hand as he hopped in the boat. Your hand felt weird now, as if you wanted his touch again, even just for a second more.

That want was somewhat fulfilled as he held out his hand to you once again. This time it was to help you on the boat. Which you gladly took.

Now the boat wasn’t huge, but for two people, it was pretty spacious. It looked like it had been recently cleaned to the best of the boy’s ability. But what caught your attention the most was the basket that was down in the middle, a blanket thrown out under it.

You glance at the boy that was driving the boat away from the dock. “A picnic?” You smooth out the back of your dress before sitting yourself down on the blanket and taking off your sandals.

“Is that not a good first date idea?” It was obvious he wasn’t the dating kind of guy. He was used to hooking up, not meeting up. This would be his first real date.

But it was also your first date.

Shrugging, you rub your hand against the softness of the blanket. “I think it’s nice.”

If you were paying attention, you might have seen the smile that cracked onto his face that held more than just the idea of his plan working. If you were paying attention, you might have seen the way he shook off that smile as quick as it came.

“Good, good.” He mutters, nodding. He clears his throat after a while, after you are pretty far out into the water. “I hope you like sandwiches.”

You look over as he sits down on the other side of the basket, opposite of you. “As long as you have turkey.”

Eight sandwiches later, between the two of you, JJ was sitting on the edge of the boat telling stories as you sat in a safer place, listening.

“So, John B actually took the bottle, and it was glued to his hand for the whole day!” 

You smile and shake your head, holding back a laugh. “That’s such a cruel prank. It must’ve hurt to get it off.”

JJ chuckles and kicks his shoes off before standing. “All I know is it was hilarious to watch him try to do the simplest of shit.”

There was a moment of silence between you, giving time for JJ to pull off his shirt out of nowhere.

You quickly redirected your eyes as a blush crept up your neck to your cheeks. “JJ, what are you doing...?”

“What? I told you you better be wearing a bathing suit.” He tossed his shirt over by the empty basket.

Shaking your head, you bring your knees up to your chest. “Well, I’m not.”

“Can’t take no for an answer, sorry.” Without much warning, he jumped down from his spot and picked you up. 

“JJ!” You squealed as he threw you over his shoulder.

He walks up to the edge of the boat. “Last chance; do you wanna take that cute little dress off before I toss you in?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

A furious blush once again covered your cheeks. “I-I am not taking off my dress…”

He shrugs. “Be that way.” Before you could ask him oh so sweetly to not toss you in, he tosses you in.

Another squeal erupts from your throat as your body comes into contact with the cold water. It was an unrefreshing wakeup call for anyone who needed it. 

You gasped for air as you broke the surface. A gasp that took in water from a splash right in front of you. 

“JJ!” You called out again as he resurfaced, laughing his ass off.

He swam over next to you. “Come on, Kookie. Live a little.”

You scoff a little and splash him right in the face. “Not when I just bought this dress earlier today.” You mutter.

He smirked as he got even closer. “‘Bought it earlier today’? As in, just for me?”

You blush yet again and look away. “N-No…”

With one hand he grabs your hips, and the other one places itself on your cheek to make you look at him. “Is Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes lying to me now?”

The tone of his voice made your breath hitch in your throat. The space closing in between the two of you made the hair on the back of your neck stand.

Surely, he wasn’t going to kiss you, right? It was only your first date. Wasn’t that kind of thing left for the end of it? Or maybe even the second? Or third? Definitely not the middle of the first, at least.

But then again, here you were, inches away from your lips touching their first boy. And you weren’t moving away. You weren’t rejecting it. 

It might have been because of the warmth that radiated off him as you both floated in the cold water. It might have been because of the way his touch made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

His lips never moved away, only closer. They didn’t hesitate, when centimeters away, to press themselves to your lips and steal any air that might have occupied your lungs.

His lips, much like his hands, were softer than you imagined. But unlike his hands, there was never a hint of roughness. It didn’t feel like hundreds of other girls have done the same as you; you felt different. Special.

Your lips danced together for what seemed like an hour. His took intricate steps, as your’s tried to follow him to a tee and only slightly tripping over yourself.

When you parted, you felt yourself leaning into him. Any doubts about kissing in the middle of the first date left your mind as you just wanted more.

JJ lightly squeezed your hips, pulling you over with him closer to the boat. “Wouldn’t want to ruin that dress too much.” He says as he slowly lets go of you.

“Yeah, right…” Biting your lip, you try not to make it evident that you craved his touch, if just for a moment more. That the cold water was unbearable without him near.

You said nothing as he climbed out of the water and into the boat. He extended his hand out for you, which you took probably a little too quickly. After he helped you in, you managed to slip on some of the water that dripped from you. You slipped right into him.

He caught you without a problem, laughing a little. “Falling for me already?”

You laughed a little along with him, but didn’t give him an answer or anything like that. “Doesn’t really seem like this was your first date.” You just would change the subject.

Shrugging, he went over to drive the boat back to land. “I’m just full of surprises.”

The rest of the ride was kind of silent. But it wasn’t an awkward silence. At least, after a while it wasn’t. Maybe it was just a little awkward for you.

Once he parked the boat, JJ hopped off, tied it down, and went over to help you get off. He made sure you didn’t slip this time.

You smile at him as you start to walk down the dock. “I actually had a really nice time…”

“What? You thought you weren’t?” He asked, fake offended.

With a shrug, you say, “Well, you’re-”

Before you could finish, JJ’s phone started to ring from in the boat.

“Hold that thought.”

You hadn’t realized the two of you were holding hands until he dropped your’s to run back to the boat and hop inside.

JJ picked up his phone and looked at the name of the caller. He rolled his eyes and answered. “What do you want now?”

“How is everything going?” Gavin’s voice made JJ want to hang up immediately.

He glanced over at you for a split second before looking out over the water and lowering his voice. “Just fine. Goodbye.”

“Wait, wait!” Gavin called out before JJ could put his phone down. “Has she mentioned anything about her friend, or me?”

JJ shook his head. “No. Why the fuck would she?”

There was brief talking in the background. “Just wondering. Your money for this date will be given to you after school Monday.”

“Good.” Once again, JJ’s gaze trailed over to the girl who was standing by the end of the dock. The girl who was soaking wet from head to toe. The girl who bought a new dress just for his date. The girl he went on his first date with.

Without saying anything more, he hung up the phone. He was bound to break your heart, but he didn’t know if he wanted to.

____ ____

Tag List -  @outerbanksbabes ♛ @camillemonty ♛ @http-cherries ♛ @lonely-kermit ♛ @iccyyyybitch ♛ @Bearfacesbitch ♛ @itsagurl ♛

[peralta-guaranteed]

Idk if u already wrote or if there's something out there I've missed, but would totally love to read something from Victor's pov about Jake dating Amy. We all know Amy is daddy's little girl (I would dare to say Amy tries more to prove the amazing women she is to her mother rather than her father) and I think Victor gets to like Jake in spite of all the binder thing, like how he welcomes him into the family and talks to him at the hospital in Two Turkeys, is just so nice. Sure Jake is not what any Santiago would have expected and wanted for Amy but he knows with Jake his little girl is safe and loved in a way no one even with a 'perfect guy binder' would.

(this got long and rambly)

He’s no good. There’s a binder full of proof, and Victor is glad to show it to anyone who so much as mentions his daughter’s new boyfriend. (Even Camila, who’s on his side with this, seems bored of it by now.)

A childish, unprofessional, unreliable, chaotic mess of a person. He shouldn’t even be working on the same level as his daughter - he remembers her complaints and rants about him when she started at her new precinct well enough, trying to comfort her during their phonecalls when she was working hard to settle into her new role as a detective. Maybe he made a mistake then, urging her to be friendly with her new co-workers even while keeping a professional distance. He should’ve told her to focus on work itself, on getting her career goals done, rather than shmoozing with the others. Then she might’ve not befriended that bumbling buffoon of a boy.

-*-

She stayed friends with him even when she’d found someone far more suitable in that Tedford boy, and Victor could tell from the hesitation in her voice and her flickering eyes when she mentioned him during her visits home that there was something off about her, the way the name Jake came to her so much easier and with more joy than the name Teddy in all her stories.

Jake was in a lot of her stories.

Teddy was not.

-*-

He’s not good enough for her. Sure, she’s on his side in this fight - she’s defied her father for less things, and is not afraid to fight for her stance. He knows that well enough from her teenage years, and has been surprisingly proud about it later on, seeing the headstrong, confident woman they’d raised right.

But in this case, just this once, he wishes she could see his reasoning.

He’s not good enough for her. He won’t be able to support her in her ambitions, he won’t be the kind of person she needs to rely on if she wants to make it to captain while maintaining a good homelife like she’d written down in her lifeplan.

Yet she loves him. That’s what she said, in no uncertain times, when she invited her father down to visit and meet with Jake. She loves this boy, and there is a tone to the way she says it that Victor has never heard before. It scares him a little, to think about that tone while seeing this overgrown child bumble around next to her. It sounds so final. It sounds like forever.

-*-

He’s trying. He sticks close to Amy when they’re with her family, looks for her nod or a squeeze of his arm before starting into one of his stories. He’s learned a few phrases in Spanish, in the worst accent Victor has ever heard, but he’s learned them.

(Teddy had been taking Latin classes, instead. “It’s more useful for law proceedings”, Amy had said, and it had seemed logical, but he’d heard the sadness. As much as he’d heard the joy in her giggle when Jake whispered ‘mi amada’ to her when he thought they were alone in Camila’s kitchen.)

-*-

He needs to be better. Victor tries hard, in his arguments with Camila and his sons, who all seem to have fallen to the wrong side in that fight, to explain just what he means by that. Jake has no savings, no proper plans for the future, no interest in grown-up topics. It might do for a casual boyfriend, but it won’t do for the partner of a Santiago - for the partner of the most ambitious Santiago of them all, for his little conquering princess.

He needs to be better.

“Just wait and see.” Matteo says after another disgruntled rant over a shared bottle of beer. “He might surprise you yet. He’s managed that with all of us.”

-*-

He can be surprisingly quiet. That endlessly blabbing mouth (page 6 of tab 4 in his binder) is well and truly shut as they sit with Amy’s tio, frail and shaking in his beloved armchair on what they all know is one of their last visits.

He listens instead, nods fervently when Amy translates the old man’s advice to him - Victor wants to interject for a second to mention that tio Carlos’ tips about marriage life do not apply to them, but he turns just as quiet as Jake when he sees his daughter reach for his hand, as she translates the importance of ‘honestidad’ and ‘comodidad’. Turns even more quiet when he sees Jake turn to grab her hand, squeeze it a few times and smile at her tio.

He’s quiet again a month later, at the funeral, his hand holding Amy’s just as tight as she says goodbye, quiet as he pulls her into a half-hug to soften her sob when the casket disappears into the ground.

“Comodidad.” He whispers to her during the dinner after, and she smiles for the first time that day.

“Consuelo in this case, babe.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re getting better.”

-*-

He’s doing good. They’ve fought their way through a lot, through more things than Victor would‘ve ever wanted to put on his little girl, but they’ve fought through it. Together. 

A few pages of the binder have been amended. Some have been ripped out. Things are changing, and so is Jake. He’s growing.

He’s doing good.

-*-

He picks up the next time Victor calls for his weekly chat with his little girl.

“Hello, sir.” And his voice is nervous like it always is when speaking to him, but it’s also quiet, hushed. “Amy’s pretty sick, I don’t think she’s up for a phonecall. I finally got her down for a nap.”

“Amy rarely gets sick. Has she seen a doctor yet?”

“Rosa checked her, it’s just a really heavy cold. I got her medicine and those herbal bath salts and the good tea, so she’ll probably be up and running in a few days.”

“You’re taking good care of her, then.”

“I try, sir.”

“No.” Victor says as he eyes the binder on top of his office shelf, dusty and almost forgotten. “You don’t try. You do.”

-*-

He’s... gone.

A few weeks ago, he was making a mess while trying to help Camila in the kitchen, talking endlessly about the amazing new task force he and his colleague Diaz had gotten into. Grinning at Amy as she beamed with pride when Victor complimented him on that achievement in his career.

And now he was gone, locked away on the other end of the country.

Amy had spent the week after at theirs, crying into the pillows on her childhood bed, never alone as a rotation of brothers kept her company in silence. He’d driven her back home with reluctance, but she wanted to go back to work - back to the case, a binder dedicated to any and all options she could find already in her luggage.

Victor had to leave her behind with nothing but a long, comforting dad-hug. Leave her in that apartment full of him, in every corner, the way he’d made a home in every crevice of her heart too.

“I guess you’re happy now.” Benedict, their youngest - the rebel without a cause - scoffs at the quiet dinner later, two chairs empty.

“Why would you-” Victor wants to scold him, but Camila’s low voice interrupts him.

“Amelia will not leave him for this. Not for anything.”

“No.” Matteo nods.

“And she shouldn’t.” Victor adds as he stabs a potato maybe a bit too harshly. 15 years, he thinks. More than three times of what they’d had together, before. But it makes no difference - 5 days, 5 years, or 15 - Amy wouldn’t care. “He’s more than good enough to wait for.”

-*-

Victor replays the voicemail on his cellphone for the sixth time that evening, as Camily next to him sighs, trying to get him to finally settle down into bed.

I'm calling to inform you that I plan to ask your daughter to marry me, but since it's 2017, I am not asking you for your permission...

Jake still sounds as scared as he always does talking to him, but there’s something else too. Something he’s heard a lot in his voice before, when he was talking to Amy, mostly. Something he’s heard from her, too, since the beginning. Since “I love him, dad. I really do”.

She's a strong independent woman, and she don't need no man. That being said, I truly hope she says yes.

“I’m as excited as you are, cariño.” Camila sighs again. “But we will get the news as soon as it happens, so please go to sleep now.”

“He’s a good man.” Victor says as he finally puts his phone on the bedside table, next to the finished crossword.

“Yes, mi amor. You’ve said that before.”

“He’ll be a good husband.”

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Small Time Witch (12)

Your meeting with Director Fury went better than you thought it would. He thought it was probably best for you to move to the compound. You shared with him how nervous you were that Hellphyr would destroy them like he destroyed your coven. He suggested when you return to the States that you have a meeting with Doctor Strange. At least he would be able to help you ward the place. You agreed to let him call on you if he ever needed you. He promised to continue to help you with the Kales. You shook hands and turned in your tac suit. He refused to take it back. “Maybe you’ll need it some day.”

You found Tony to tell him the good news. “So, boss, does Monday work for you?”

He clicked his tongue and drew you in for a hug. “I’ll have HR start the paperwork.”

“Great. That will give me a few days to find a place.”

“You’ll stay with us. We have the room. You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“Famous last words.” You smiled and ducked out. The clock was ticking. You weren’t sure if Steve was just messing with you but he gave you serious dom vibes. You got excited thinking of what fifty shades of red white and blue would be like.

On your way back you ran into Loki coming out of his room. “Where are you rushing off to, Pet?”

“To meet Steve.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. Waves of jealousy radiated off of him. “I’m sorry.”

“No need. I won’t keep you then. When we get back can you make some time for me?” You held his hand. His body stiffened. You wanted to hug him but eyes were everywhere. This was not the time to make the plane ride home a contentious one.

“Of course, Lok. Are you ok?” He pulled his hand away. That stung a little.

“Never better. You’d better go. Don’t want to keep him waiting.” You smiled at each other and quickened your pace to Steve’s room.

He wasn’t there yet (thank goodness). You showered and got in bed. Following his instructions you let your hands wander to your pussy. Your thoughts went back to yesterday when he had you melting in his hands. You slipped in two fingers. Your other hand furiously rubbed your clit bringing you to the brink of crashing. Before you could you stopped. He told you not to come. Once it felt safe you went back to work. You took your time teasing your nipples. Tasting yourself. You let your fingers roam and explore your cunt bringing you to the brink again. This time you decided to stop completely until he got back.

It was well over an hour. You were reading when a message from Steve popped up on the screen.

SR: Sorry this is taking so long, baby. I’m trying to find an excuse to get out of here. I hope you’re following Captain’s orders. That pussy had better be dripping when I get back.

Perhaps to give him a bit of motivation you sent him a video to show exactly how wet you were. Sam was sitting next to him at the table. Steve tried to hide his phone but was unsuccessful.

“If you don’t run to that woman right now I will” Sam whispered. Steve turned every shade of red imaginable.

“Don’t look at my girl, Sam.”

“I didn’t see much. Her hand was in the way. I’m serious. These fools have been droning on for almost two hours. I’ll take notes. Get out of here.” Steve stood to excuse himself.

“Are we boring you, Captain Rogers? Somewhere more important to be?” Secretary Ross scolded.

“Bathroom, Mr. Secretary.” The man rolled his eyes and continued talking. He took large strides across camp ignoring everyone who called out to him. When he got back to the room you were sprawled out on the bed. He was positively salivating at the sight of you.

He growled low in his throat causing you to giggle. He was out of his sweats and on top of you in less than thirty seconds. His lips crushed yours desperately trying to devour you. “Sorry I was late. They wouldn’t shut up.” he said against your mouth. You breathed hard against him bringing him in for more hard kisses. He brought his hand down to feel you. When your slick coated his fingers he smiled, “Good girl. I’ll bet you’re ready to come.” You whined “Yeah you are. Come on, Princess. Give me what I want.” His words were your undoing. You moaned his name while he fucked you with his fingers. He inserted a third then a fourth finger while his thumb slowly massaged your clit. It was only minutes until you came again.

He could not take it anymore. His cock was hard to the point of pain. He rolled to his back and pulled you on top. You lowered yourself down gingerly feeling your orgasm build again. The stretch was too much. As soon as your clit brushed his pelvic bone you were a goner. “What is that? Three now? Let’s go for five. I know you can.” You ground down on him rocking your hips into your fourth orgasm. “Yes, baby. You feel so good.” You clenched around him and your whole body froze. You were dizzy so you braced yourself against his shoulders. “Get on all fours” he commanded. As soon as you positioned yourself he aggressively slammed into you. He kept the same pace urging you to hold on. “You ready, baby?” He thrusted one final time and he spilled everything inside of you.

You crawled towards the pillow completely out of breath. He laid next to you and pulled you in to lay on his chest. “You know, Steve, it occurred to me that we haven’t been on a third date yet.” He laughed.

“Yeah I thought about that. I usually don’t show anyone this side of me until we’re a solid two months in.”

“It did shock me how much of a freak you are.”

“I hope a good shock.”

You kissed his chest, “A great shock. Let’s go on a proper date when we get back. Dinner and a movie.”

“I’m up for that. I like this too. I just like spending time with you. If it happens to lead somewhere I’m not angry about it.”

You giggled to yourself. You thought Steve Rogers was living a chaste life only focused on avenging. At least that’s what all the girls at SHIELD thought. They all flirted with him when he came to the main office. Thinking back on it, you had too. You were sure that he didn’t remember. Even still, it was fairly well known that Steve was a virgin or at least that he was a born again virgin after coming out of the ice. Turns out he’s been out there fucking.

“So what did you tell Tony?” he was glad to change the subject. Yes, he had an active sex life. Doesn’t mean he wants to talk about it.

“That I would start on Monday. I’m moving into the compound. In my own room, of course.”

“Of course. Was Fury pissed?”

“No. He thought it was a good idea. I have to meet with Doctor Strange when we get back. Between him and Loki and Wanda I think we can protect the compound from any magical attack.” The mere mention of Loki’s name made him clench his jaw and grip you tighter.

He didn’t want to ask about Loki because he was not about to tell you how to live your life. He couldn’t help but feel like he would worry less if Loki stuck around. Then again, he didn’t quite trust him around you. The two of you seemed to have a special bond. He was sure he was overreacting. Never the less he had a pit in his stomach every time you were alone together. You two seemed to have your own language. Bucky mentioned on more than one occasion that he was sure the two of you had a thing. He decided to leave it alone for now.

You fell into a comfortable silence just enjoying one another. Your stomach growled loudly waking you from your dream state. He laughed and you hid your face in embarrassment. “I’m hungry too. Hang tight. I’m going to see what I can find and we’ll have a bed picnic.”

“I’ll come with you.” He pressed his palm into your chest lowering you back down onto the bed.

“You thought I was done? You don’t get to get dressed today, Princess. I plan on making you come several more times.”

“Captain Rogers!” You feigned outrage like a southern damsel, “You are nothing but a scoundrel, sir.” He smacked your ass and winked as he left the room.

He got back to the room only to find you passed out cold. Snoring even. He quietly put down the tray of snacks on the bedside table. He tried to make himself as light as possible so he didn’t wake you when he got into bed. He crawled like a cat between your legs and buried his tongue in your snatch. Your eyes flew open and you arched your back. You whined and panted while he moaned back in encouragement. His voice reverberated through your core and sent you over the edge. You grabbed the bed sheets trying to hold on for dear life as he kitten licked you back down.

He came up for air and wiped his face on a towel. “I couldn’t find food food so I brought all snacks.” He tossed you a muffin and a bottle of juice.

“Are you for real, Rogers? You made me cum like a million times...”

“Six” he said between gulps of water.

“....six times and then you feed me carbs? Carbs! You’re like amazing.”

“Thanks. Carbs are for quick energy. You need protein too. That provides lasting energy which you will need.” He handed you a half of a turkey sandwich. “Eat up. I’m not nearly done with you yet.” You rolled your eyes and took the sandwich. So bossy.

By the time you were finished both of you were exhausted sore and dehydrated. You drained a bottle of water in seconds trying to replenish what you had lost. You were sticky and sweaty. You were pretty sure you smelled. You didn’t even want to see what your hair looked like. He didn’t care. In his sleep he clutched you like he was afraid you’d float away. He was your anchor in these dark waters.

When you woke up the next morning there was more fucking then shower sex followed by breakfast then one more quickie in the plane hanger. You were like a couple of horny teenagers and he could not get enough of you. You slept a deep dreamless sleep on the way home. He spent the better part of the flight planning your proper date.

[angrylizardjacket]

the deadliest game // charlotte&lola

Summary: Motley Crue, Lola, Charlotte, Peach, and Eileen play Knife Monopoly. It goes about as well as you could expect.

A/N: BIG WARNING THERE’S SO MANY KNIVES. KNIVES, INJURY, MENTIONS OF BLOOD, CUTTING AND STABBING BUT NOT IN A SERIOUS WAY, JUST LIKE A FUN LITTLE STAB, BUT STILL THERE’S SERIOUS KNIFE PLAY. it’s not sexual but i still don’t think its sfw. @lemonadexmouth and @misscharlottelee i hope i did your girls at least a little bit proud haha. MC might be a bit oc, sorry!

----

When Charlotte hears the words Knife Monopoly leave Tommy’s mouth one unassuming Friday afternoon in the Motley House, she’s instantly sent back a whole five years, to the Bass family garage, and Athena, all of thirteen years old, screeching in triumph while Tommy, barely fifteen, swore a blue streak, amid begging Charlotte not to tell his dad. They’d ignored her warnings, her jousting with steak knives is not a better alternative to regular auctions, and as such, Tommy had underestimated his vicious and competitive little sister, and ended up with a knife half an inch deep in the heel of his palm. 

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Charlotte, sixteen, tells him.

“Get fucked!” Athena had crowed, knife still a little bloody as she raised it in triumph. 

“Language, ‘Thena,” Charlotte reminded her, searching amid Tommy’s various musical supplies for any sort of cloth to stem the bleeding.

“I just won Knife Monopoly I can do whatever I want!” Athena responded, looking a little bit crazy, brandishing her knife at Charlotte, who just regarded her with flat unamusement. 

“Go get me bandages,” she instructed the younger girl, cutting her off before she can even begin to protest, “or I’ll tell your mom it was your idea.”

“She won’t -”

“You stabbed Tommy!”

“It was his suggestion! It’s his fault he got stabbed!” But she complies anyways, and sulks the whole time. Tommy doesn’t play Knife Monopoly with his little sister after that, or around Charlotte either, though according to some of his friends at school, he hasn’t exactly quit the game cold turkey.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Charlotte calls from the bathroom where she’s helping dye the ends of Lola’s hair bright red, the moment the memory passes. It’s all over her hands, it already looks like blood; this all feels too familiar.

“Char-lee,” Tommy practically whines, and Charlotte steps out of the bathroom to scowl at him, even as Lola protests. 

“Okay but what is Knife Monopoly?” Nikki is far too intrigued for his own good -

“No.” Charlotte says, firmer this time, “it’s dumb as hell. And it always ends with Tommy getting stabbed.”

“Not always!” Tommy protests, “I’ve stabbed Vince a few times,” like that makes it any better.

“Sign me up!” Nikki’s eyes are always alight with some terrible and dangerous enthusiasm, and Charlotte regrets ever meeting him, and proceeds to, in great and embarrassing detail, retell the story of the first ever game of Knife Monopoly. Tommy looks like he’s bitten a lemon by the time she’s finished. Nikki is clearly not swayed.

“I got better at it,” Tommy actually pouts.

“I’d hope so; your sister was thirteen,” Nikki points out. Tommy’s expression, defying all expectations, gets even more bitter.

“She’s vicious,” he says in his own defense, “go get Vince, he’ll tell you I’m good at it.”

“What does being good at Knife Monopoly mean?” Lola finally steps into the conversation, hands also dyed a bright, eye-catching red to match the ends of her hair currently in a messy bun atop her head. Unfortunately, she seems onboard with the whole idea.

“It means Vince got stabbed a lot,” Charlotte fills in, and Tommy’s back to grinning and nodding.

“How about it, Lo?” He’s all enthusiasm, and Lola shrugs, which he takes as a yes. He then proceeds to ask each of them if they’re in, without waiting for an answer, and practically bolts into the spare room where Vince was desperately trying to sleep off a hangover. 

“Knife Monopoly!” He announces at the top of his lungs, hanging off the doorframe. It’s like he’s fifteen again. Charlotte, whole body heavy with resignation, makes her way to the phone to call up Peach and Eileen. From the other room, the other three all hear Vince groan loudly.

“No rib stabbing,” is his only groggy stipulation, and Tommy literally cheers. 

Peach and Eileen show up within the hour, with a bemused Mick in tow, both women wearing near-identical disapproving scowls.

“We don’t have enough knives,” Nikki muses, looking at them, but Tommy’s acting as if their arrival means the end of the world.

“Charlie -” he tries again.

“Moral support, Thomas.” She doesn’t leave any room for argument, and then apologizes to both redheads. After a beat, the anger cracks away to resignation from Eileen, who Eileen opens her bag to reveal a swathe of gauze tape and a bottle of vodka, “just be glad I didn’t call your sister.” Charlotte adds for good measure, but Tommy just flips her off. 

Peach, on the other hand, realizing that the game hadn’t even started, turns from disapproving to excited.

“Wait, so I get to actually play this time?”

“Peach!” Eileen groans, but Tommy’s offering her a place in the game. She’d always had to help clean up the aftermath; it’s easy to be disapproving when bandaging your not-boyfriend’s sliced up bicep, it’s another to be able to get drunk and play for yourself.

Lola gets out of the shower drying her freshly dyed hair, only for the body count in the apartment to have almost doubled; she takes it in stride, and actually parrots Nikki’s concern about a lack of knives almost word for word. 

“If someone can drive me to my motel I can borrow some steak knives from the kitchen,” she offers, much to Charlotte and Eileen’s growing horror. Someone suggests making a night of it, of ordering pizza, getting booze, and collecting more knives before they start, and it seems almost everyone else is in agreement, even Mick, who, as Lola points out, would take any opportunity to stab the rest of the band, even a little bit.

“I hate them,” Eileen mutters to Charlotte, the two of them sharing vodka with Mick in the kitchen. Charlotte hums in agreement, watching as Nikki and Lola went to collect knives, while Vince and Peach went to pick up pizza and booze, which left Tommy to find the Monopoly board. 

“Fuckin’ teenagers, the lot of them,” Mick chimes in, but there’s something amused in his gaze, and Charlotte sighs deeply and tells him not to indulge them. He shrugs, as if he can’t help himself, as if the damage is already done, and it is.

There’s actual knife wounds in the board, holes of considerable size.

Charlotte doesn’t know why now, of all the time she’s known them, that she’s finally hit with the realization that her closest friends might be the absolute dumbest people she knows.

The premise of Knife Monopoly is simple; any and all disagreements are settled with a knife fight. Disagreements can range from establishing rules - yes, that early on; there’s been several times where he’s never even made a roll and the game is over - to disputes about rent, about whose turn it is, and most famously, substituting auctions for knife fights. Usually Tommy’s only played it with one opponent, so it’s elated to maybe not get stabbed for a few rounds. The knife fights aren’t serious, no-one’s allowed to go in for the kill or anything dramatic, and if someone quits, you have to respect that and stop going after them, but once they’re out, they’re not allowed to rejoin.

Peach and Vince get back first, loaded up with food for the whole pack, and Charlotte watches through narrowed eyes as Tommy pulls Vince to the side after he’s set down all the pizzas. They’re plotting something, judging by the conspiratorial whispering, and their suddenly shifty gazes.

“Charlie,” this time her name is a question when Tommy asks it, and Charlotte turns her full attention to him and the blonde crowded together in the corner of the room, “do you think Nikki and Lola...” he hesitated, “what do you think their pain tolerance is?” He decides on, none too subtly. Charlotte, when she considers his question, can’t help the way her lips twitch in amusement, understanding exactly what was happening.

“You’re both going to lose.”

“Ye of little faith,” Vince clicks his tongue, nose in the air, and Charlotte suppresses the sudden murderous intent that surges forth in her. Probably not the best situation to be feeling murderous in.

“You’re knife fighting Nikki and Lola,” Charlotte smirks instead, “you’re going to lose.”

Neither of them like that she kind of has a point.

The two in question finally get back, a canvas bag full of steak knives in tow, which are quickly passed out, and dinner and drinks are distributed and eaten as the rules are explain. Mick’s balancing the tip of his knife against his knee where he’s sitting in the armchair, a single finger keeping the utensil aloft, regarding them all like he’s wondering who he should go for first. In contrast, Tommy and Lola are already being absolute idiots, and trying to balance their knives on their noses, thankfully handle first.

Charlotte picks up her knife.

“I want it noted that this is a absolutely terrible idea,” she’s points the knife at Tommy, and he cheerily tells her ‘then quit’. She stays in the game to prove a point to him, and takes another shot.

They roll the little plastic dice to see who goes first, and when Nikki and Vince both roll a ten, instead of rolling again, they’re both already down to fight. Except that Nikki’s got this gleam in his eyes that can mean nothing good, and is holding his knife like he knows exactly what to do with it.

There’s a moment of jousting, of metal against metal, then plastic, then Nikki’s blade slips past too quick for Vince to catch, and there’s a cut on his bicep. Tommy calls out that the fight is over, and Nikki boos him, but Lola pulls him back.

“Calm down, Jason Voorhees,” she rolled her eyes, and pokes him with her own knife. Nikki, obligingly sat back, and devoured another slice of pizza as he rolled his first turn.

The first turn goes smoothly, probably too smoothly, though Charlotte wouldn’t lie that her heart was in her throat the whole time she was moving her piece. Any objection would be met with someone’s injury, as says the rules.

When Lola takes her second roll, these rules are exploited.

“No.” Nikki tells her as soon as she totals the numbers on the dice. Lola checks her math. Eight. Two fours.

“Yes? Eight.” She answers slowly, with a frown. Tommy can already see where this is leading, and watches with wide eyes and baited breath. Nikki flips his knife, and points it at Lola.

“No.”

“How high are you?” Lola does not yet realise, it seems, and Nikki raises his eyebrows, claiming that that’s not the issue, “are you starting a fight because you’re bored?” Lola snickers, finally, and the way Nikki’s lips twitch at the corners betrays his intentions. There’s no way he would have started this over something so ridiculous with anyone else.

“I like this game,” Nikki turns to Tommy, and the moment his attention is pulled away, Lola lashes out with her knife, tearing his pants and leaving a thankfully shallow wound against his thigh. Nikki, surprised by the altercation, goes wide-eyed with shock, clutching his leg, mouth agape as he watches Lola smugly move her piece eight places forward.

“Yes, eight,” she says simply.

It was a dirty move, but Nikki’s expression turns to a disbelieving grin. Eileen hands over a roll of tissue paper. Everyone else is quiet, can’t quite believe what they’d just witnessed.

“Fucking knew you guys would be killer at this,” Tommy exclaims with a breathless grin, picking up the dice. Lola leans over and presses a sweet kiss to Nikki’s shoulder, and he, in turn, pets her head with the hand that’s not holding tissues to his fresh wound. 

Alcohol goes a long way to dulling the pain, but everyone now seems to be playing strategically; Eileen’s not playing, just watching with amusement, while her little sister uses Vince’s fondness against him. Peach gives him a doe-eyed pleading look, and when he starts to lower his weapon, she gives him a considerable cut by his collar. It’s not his first of the night, and after both the cut, and her underhanded tactics, he’s the first to bail out. Eileen takes him to the bathroom to be properly cleaned and bandaged, while Peach wears a smile so oddly reminiscent of thirteen-year-old Athena, triumphant. 

Mick appears to be biding his time, not challenging anyone, and no-one appears to want to challenge him, considering how unnerving he’s been acting for most of the game. Tommy and Charlotte end up challenging each other surprisingly often, and though he goes easy on her when he gets the upper hand, Charlotte still ends up with a collection of little wounds littering her skin; she can’t deny the adrenaline rush the arsenene game grants it’s players, maybe it’s why she hasn’t quit yet. 

Tommy’s holding his own against Lola and Nikki surprisingly well, and there’s no denying that the three of them are the worst off of the lot; Nikki and Lola challenge each other like it’s not a game involving knives, like it’s just a normal Friday, and Charlotte quietly thinks that there’s something deeply wrong with both of them. At least they go much easier on everyone else. 

“Alright, pay up, geezer, that’s four hundred you owe me,” Lola’s grin is all teeth when she turns to Mick, marking up the price for rent on her hotels, expecting him not to fight back. She’s been extorting him all game, and somehow he’s still playing. 

“I think you owe me four hundred,” Mick answers with a sharp little smile, sitting forward in the chair, finally holding his knife like a weapon. 

“Is that a challenge?” Lola should not be this excited at the prospect. Mick raises his eyebrows at her, holding out his hand.

“Unless you’re willing to just hand over that four hundred without a fight.” 

Lola’s on her feet in a flash, bouncing on the balls of her feet, ready and waiting for Mick to stand and face her. She’s passing her knife from hand to hand, far too eager, but Mick simply takes in her stance, and throws his knife at her, aiming for her arm, as to not hit anything too vital. There’s not enough force behind the throw to leave the knife actually in her, but it leaves a considerable gash in her shoulder.

“I quit,” Mick announces, while Lola marvels at the wound with what seems to border on excitement, “I already know I can’t win,” he shrugged easily. Lola and Tommy both boo at him.

“Drummer, you’re not gonna win when two of the five remaining players get off on shit like this,” Mick says bluntly, “and it’s not you or your cousin.” Vince crows with laughter, but doesn’t disagree. 

When Tommy looks to Lola, she’s glaring at Mick while Nikki dresses her wound. 

“I can try,” Tommy musters all his strength, only for Charlotte to cut him down.

“No you can’t,” she practically orders, “yes that’s a challenge,” and she reaches over and cuts his palm before he can even react. It’s a dirty, underhanded move, but technically it’s not against the rules. “This game is stupid and dangerous.”

“No fair!” Tommy frowns, plucking tissues out of the quickly depleting box.

“Is that a challenge?” Charlotte raises her eyebrows at him, and Tommy sulks, but finally quits, cradling his hand to his chest, and concedes defeat.

It’s a stalemate; Peach is relatively unscathed, Charlotte has collected a handful of scrapes, while Nikki and Lola look like they’ve rolled through broken glass and loved it. 

“You know what?” Peach announces, looking between Nikki and Lola, and Charlotte, like she’s interrupted a standoff, before anyone else rolls, “I don’t need to be stabbed anymore today, ‘specially not by you guys.” And she puts her knife down, raising her hands in surrender. 

And then there was three. 

Charlotte looks to the other two, leaning into each other and smiling in a way that was more than a little sinister, looking a little like a pair of serial killers sizing up their next victim. If it were anyone else looking at her like that, she’s pretty sure she’d be overwhelmingly intimidated, but the only thing Nikki and Lola do better than give off a ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe to everyone else, is self destruct together. Which Charlotte is far too aware of to let it go unmentioned. 

“If I quit, will you two promise not to kill each other, and to never play this game again?” Charlotte asks, leveling her knife at the two of them. They share a look; Nikki shrugs.

“We do this shit for fun anyways,” Lola admitted, finally looking back at Charlotte, conceding, “we don’t need a game.” Vince groans like he’s just now realising the game was rigged from the start. Charlotte doesn’t really want to think about that too hard, instead focusing on the first half of her initial question.

“But if I quit -”

“We both win, we’re a team,” Lola snorted.

“You stabbed each other more than anyone else!” Eileen looks like she wants to hurl them both through the window, but is kind of afraid they’d enjoy it.

“I hate you both so much,” Charlotte sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand. She deliberately sets down her knife, “I quit. Knife Monopoly is officially banned.”

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Teenage Wasteland (Sriracha, Part 20.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble

Part Summary: The relationship seems to reach it's top by the November of '83 - but you're not one of those who would've Jim walk away without explanation.

Warnings: Angst, more angst and a child.

A/N: And after the whole relationship thingy, we've finally arrived at the destination I was most excited about. Inspired by Cold As Ice by Foreigner and Baba O'Riley by The Who. 

Word Count: 6.5 K

Tagging: @nemodoren​, @creedslove​

Master list: H E R E

That morning, you got out of bed really late - it was Saturday, a few days after December had started, so neither of you had to leave early for work or school. Your nearest shift at the bistro started on Sunday evening, so you had all day just to hang out around each other.

And you could just tell that something's bugging Jim of since the moment he let his feet slip out of the bed. It was the start of December and you knew that it could be the incoming Christmas. Also, you agreed to have dinner at your parents' next weekend, so that could be adding up to his stress as well. You visited Joyce and both her boys just the weekend prior, training for the Christmas Eve.

You helped her with cooking the potatoes and baking the turkey, preparing all of the cookies and even drank one shot of a weird Brandy she offered you. It was an awesome dinner - Will brought his whole party over, Hopper spent most of his time talking to Jonathan and when the dinner came by, eight persons were sitting at the table without anyone realizing, since Nancy Wheeler came by as well, picking the kids up. You really enjoyed the whole night and Hopper seemed so as well.

When he didn't speak to you a word during the whole morning, that was when you started to get irritated by his behavior as well.

"Something bit your ass in the bed?" - You looked at him when he came back from having a cigarette, closing the terrace door behind him. - "I swear it wasn't me." - You joked and continued preparing the lunch, checking out the burning stove in the corner as well. 

You could pinpoint the exact moment when you knew something's off - he didn't even smile at your remark. You wouldn't want to let him walk away with such an attitude. If he thought he can fucking just walk away without explaining himself, boy, wasn't he wrong?

And yes, there was, in fact, much to talk about. But how the hell should he tell you without making you upset? He found a little girl in the woods who was scared out of her mind and who needed home. He didn't want to break up with you, under any circumstances - once he found the happiness, why should he give up on it? But at the same time, he knew that he can't make Eleven trusting him with you being around. All he needed was some time. 

“Partners.” - Suddenly, you stood up in front of him, looking him in the eyes, obviously having another of you monologues, just as you used to when there was an argument incoming his way. And again, he surely didn't hear more than half of it. - “Do you know what that word means?” 

“Two people loving each other?” - Jim guessed and took a beer out of the fridge. You stood there with the cloth you were using for cooking on your shoulder and you had both your palms on your hips. You opened up your mouth and furrowed, not expecting such an answer. 

“Yes, basically. But don't you try to beer me out or outsmart me, Jim Hopper! But you know what else partners should do? Share feelings, talk about things that are ailing them? Have you heard that before?” - You slowly walked next to the couch, following him, kneeling next to him. He felt your palm slowly tracing his shoulder and neck just before you turned his face at you. 

He knew that he's dancing on thin ice because you were literally everything he got at the moment. You were a person that meant home, warm arms when he needed a hug, kind words when he needed to brighten up his mood, lips that always accepted and gave him the sweetest kisses. And you knew him - he told you everything. 

You knew everything about Sara, he told you about Vietnam, about Diane, his time in New York. And you didn't stop listening for a moment - once he was done, you just held him in your arms for a little longer than the previous time, letting him know that it's still isn't late for him.

You let him understand that he still has the right to love and to be loved in the first place. 

“Come on, Jim. Just tell me.” - You begged before stealing his breath away with a kiss. He smiled when you leaned your forehead to his with a calm expression.

“I'll be moving out of the trail.” - Hopper started slowly. You almost smiled when he told you that, but then you realized that he said he's moving out. There wasn't any we are moving out. There was no you in that plan. With a stiffed smile, you moved away from him. The tears started to gather in your eyes and Jim almost gave himself a smack. So much for not making you upset, huh?

“That's great, I suppose. Good for you.” - You nodded and stood up, facing away so he wouldn't see you crying. 

“No. It's not what you think.” - He stood up, catching your shoulders in his palms, gently massaging them. - “I just need to be alone for a while. I think I've discovered something and I just need to test it out. I need some time.”

“And where exactly in the sentence I'm moving out you hear the word we?” - You asked back, making his hands let your shoulders go. - “Because I can't hear no matter how hard I try, Jim.” 

“Y/N, come on...” - Hopper followed you to the bedroom. He was watching you running around that room, abruptly packing all of your clothes while you started to cry. 

“Jim, if it's just that you're not happy or feeling safe with me anymore, you can just tell me. If it's just another woman, come on, tell me. If you're worried about that we are going to end up like you and Diane, I did all I possibly could to show you otherwise. Just...” - You stood up, looking him in the eyes. - “Don't give me the famous I need time excuse. I beg you. Just tell me that we are breaking up, make it quick, painful and hard to swallow. At least, make me hate you.” 

Really, so much for upsetting you. He fucked up grandiosely, Just as Jim Hopper always did. There was no way that all of this could go any worse than it already did.

“I don't want to do any of that, you crazy woman. Did you even listen to a word I said?” - Hopper opened up his mouth and your eyebrows rose rather quickly. He already upset you and now he was calling you crazy? Oh dear Lord. You stood up, exhaling loudly, putting your hands on your hips again. You, my dear, you were a piece of art in his eyes. 

Because no-one could make him feel like a little bitch as you were capable of in five minutes of your free time.

“You selfish bastard.” - You laughed ironically and continued with packing your things. Now, he turned on an engine inside of you and he could be sure that you're not going to leave a single string of his clothes dry. - “Are you planning to add me to your tragic backstory? To tell women in pubs how you had a crazy ex-girlfriend who left you all alone, brokenhearted, in your trail and never came back? That's what you want?”

“Y/N, calm down, this is...” - “You won't be telling me when to calm down, James Hopper. No. I gave you five months of my life, I found a part-time job so I would be sure that I have my own money to help you paying food, rent, clothes. I patched you up mentally when you came back home after the whole Will Byers thing, I tried to give you everything I could. Don't you even dare to tell me to calm down!” - You yelled at him while you packed the stuff you got in the bathroom and pushed it inside the bag, taking your shoes on.

Fuck his lunch, his trail, fuck him. That was what you repeated to yourself when you put the jacket on and ran into the snow in front of the trail. It looked beautiful - snow was covering every inch of the driveway, the trees, the grass was nowhere to be seen and the quarry behind the house was frozen down. Such a beautiful look, but you didn't have the time to look at it.

“Stop!” - Hopper ran after you only dressed up in his shirt, jeans, and socks. But you walked further and further away from him, showing him your middle finger. - “I love you, okay? I love you, you lunatic.” 

That was what stopped you from walking further away, taking a short breath in. He never said that. Never. You could feel it in his touches and looks, yes, but he never told you just as you never told him. You turned around to look at him, watching him walking to you only in his socks. He must've been so cold and you just knew that he's going to be sick after that. 

“I love you, yeah, I guess. I mean, I've never been good with my words and you know that.” - Hopper mumbled and caught your face in his palms. He felt so warm, but you felt how much he was trembling. No wonder, Hawkins was always freezing during winter. - “But that's just how the things are. How they are supposed to be, I guess. And you better believe me when I tell you that there is anyone who would I rather spend every minute with. But I really need some time.” 

At that moment, you smiled dreamily and caught his sides, letting the bag fall on the ground. It wasn't the biggest or the greatest feelings sharing you have seen, but that didn't matter. All that did matter was that he wasn't lying, which you could easily say. What other lunatic would run after you in socks? 

“So just... Don't leave me, alrite? And when it's goin' to be the right time to come back, I'll let you know.” - Hopper smiled at you when he saw you crying again. After that, you almost pushed him to the ground when you leaned for a kiss. 

“How much time do you have on your mind exactly?” - You led him back inside and made him change his socks and tugged him into the blanket on the bed. Now you were believing that maybe he really just needs some time. 

“Hard to say. Just wait for me a while?” - He asked, pulling you in for another kiss. You knew it's time to leave even if you wanted to undress him and make sure that he's all warmed up. 

“I'll ask my mom to take me back for a time. At least, I'll have time for studies, because there ain't going to be anyone who would distract me with fucking.” - You mumbled, sticking your ice-cold fingers under his shirt, having a sick smile on your lips. 

“You love to be distracted with the fuckin', baby.” - Hopper mumbled back while he undid the zipper on your jacket, ready for a few rounds. But you stopped his hand and kissed his forehead. 

“I do. And I do love you too. But this has to wait.” - You rose your eyebrows, leaning in again. - “I'll do wonders to you once you tell me that you're ready, baby.” - You whispered, stealing him one last peck from the lips. Hopper was smiling as he watched you leaving his driveway in your car. He could only thank Gods that such a wonderful and nasty woman found him and made him hers.

On the other hand, your mom was rather surprised to see you at home with your things packed into a bag. She was still pretty sour about the thing, as she called it, happening between you and the Cheif, but she somehow managed to keep her face straight during all of your family dinners and she even defended your choice when someone asked her about that relationship.

“Oh, honey.” - She opened up her arms as soon as she figured out you must've broken up. You let her hug you, but you chuckled nervously. - "It didn't work out, did it?"

"Mom..." - You waved her off and took your shoes off while she closed the door behind you. It was freezing outside. But you knew that she still had something to say. - "It's natural, it happens sometimes. The things just don't work out. I'm not even surprised that you and the Chief... That wasn't a healthy relationship for you, darling. He's a complicated man with a complicated past. Don't blame yourself. You're so young and you'll find a man to love you properly."

"Mom, we didn't break up." - You told her with a big smile while you put your jacket on the back of a chair. Your mom turned back at you and she started to apologize, but you just laughed again and hugged her. You knew that she's worried and that she doesn't like seeing you falling for a man so older than you were, let alone falling for a man with past as complicated as Jim's was. It wasn't that she hated him or whatever, she was just worried that he breaks your heart one day.

"I got your point mom, it's fine, really." - You hugged tighter and kissed her cheek. - "We just talked like two responsible adults and agreed that Jim needs some time for himself. Also, he said that he wants to move out to something bigger than the trail is."

"Oh, wow. Chief really means it seriously." - She said and you could say that she's really surprised. And pleasantly surprised. - "You can just start to call him Jim already, it's been five months since we started dating. He won't take that as a disgrace of his Chief status." - You mumbled to her and stood next to her by the sink, helping her with cooking the lunch.

Your brother did something that you didn't expect at all - as soon as he got home from hanging out at his best friend's, still Steve Harrington's, he hugged you so tight that you almost couldn't breathe. Even your father was glad to have you home around Christmas.

You did as you were told and went to work, studied for exams and overall really tried to move on with your life while Jim was up to his business.

He called you on Christmas Eve and wished you Merry Christmas, repeating you that he loves you and how much you mean to him, promising you a big gift once you come back. The call on its own was already a big present for you.

But that was the last time you heard about how he's doing and his whereabouts. Days passed from Christmas Eve, weeks and then months. January flew past you so quickly that you had barely any time to notice the time. Hopper was in your mind literally all the time, naturally, but the loneliness really hit you on Valentine's Day. You watched all the couples going for a dinner to their bellowed fast-food bistro, Marty's, girls were carrying chocolates and roses they got from their lovers and you?

Hopper didn't even call you. There was no call, no message on the recorder, no letter or a goddamn card. Not even a piece of paper with a stamp on it. That was the day when you've had about enough.

Hopper was literally just fucking around with you - and he should know better than doing that. You were a lady that didn't take any shit. His shit, your brother's shit, Harrington's shit, just no-one's.

The other day, you literally stormed into the office of the PD, looking as pissed as never before. When the boys saw you, they knew that the boss is in some serious trouble. They noticed that you hadn't shown up for a time - in the fall, you stopped at least twice every week with something homemade for them, but haven't visited the station for months at that point. And when they asked Hopper, he never gave them valuable answers. But your face at the moment you walked in and, holy damn, even Callahan almost pissed his pants.

"One question." - You looked at each one of them. - "Where is James Hopper?"

"Did something happened?" - Powell slowly got up and tried to at least... Negotiate with you. You rose your eyebrows.

"So he stands me up for almost three months and you dare to ask if something happened?" - You told in an ironic voice. - "Nothing happened, yet. But when I get my hands on him, either I will smack the fuck out of him, kick his balls or just straightway kill him. I haven't really decided yet."

Calvin looked at Callahan and gulped. That man brought a storm upon himself. The first few weeks, they made fun of him having a full-on blown relationship with you, but they accepted it as a matter of fact. In the end, there was no wonder why Hopper fell for you with your character and witty remarks. There were a lot of people actually wondering about why the fuck you've chosen Jim as your partner, but it worked out somehow. And everyone who wasn't blind saw it. But when he pissed you off and clearly did, the officers wanted to be as far away from you as they possibly could.

"He took a few days off. We thought you're together and you have some plans, you know, all the Valentine stuff going around..." - Calvin spoke to you and he saw you grinning. That bastard. That ass. That jerk. Oh, you had about hundreds of names for him and you'll yell each other at him once he'll stand in front of you.

"Try to look for him in the trail. If he's not there, drive to the cabin on this address. But don't give it to anyone, it's for cases of emergency. It's in the woods about fifteen minutes from the town." - Florence gave you a small piece of paper with an address and you knew that you'll have to buy a map to find that. You nodded. She really meant the part about the secret, whispering it to you.

"If he stops by, tell him that I'll kick his little sorry ass as soon as I see him." - You mumbled to his boys and left the station, walking to the car as cold February wind messed up your hair.

"Well, normally tell I would like to have her at home." - Callahan told to Powell as they both turned away to sit down again at their tables. - "But I wouldn't want to be Hopper right now."

"If you're going to thirst about boss' girlfriend again, leave me out of it, I beg you." - Powell told him, looking at his crosswords again.

First off, you stopped at the trail just as Florence advised you. Jim's car wasn't there, but you wanted to look inside - when you took the key from under the big mossy rock, you got into the trail easily.

You stopped for a second and looked around. It was just empty, not the home with the burning stove you remembered. So, Jim really did move out - there wasn't anything remaining after him or you, or your relationship.

There were no dishes, no clothes, the bathroom was completely empty. You could see yourself walking out of the terrace just two months ago, giggling as you run through the trail, James laughing and following you. That was the first day it snowed and you stood there and laughed before the first snowflake fell on your nose.

The pictures he had there had disappeared as well - even the one where you've had a beautiful dress and you were giving James a smooch while you were in a police department party together, it was when November was ending. He looked happy as he was holding a beer to the photographer, telling him not to take a photo of you, smiling from ear to ear.

Even his album of nasty photos of you has disappeared - for example only wearing his shirt or you in the shower, or the photo he took on the day you were supposed to leave Hawkins. There was no clue remaining after you ever being there - or that he ever was there.

You felt brokenhearted and used. You didn't leave the goddamn town just because of him. You threw the chance to study at an elite university out of the window just to be with him. You had already sacrificed so much for that man - you whole dignity which you just threw away because you were crazy for him, the whole town just having straightaway fun of you now. You hid in the trail for two months only to spend time with him, not leaving it for the whole day so nobody would know. Every night of those two months, he had a plate of food finished minutes before came home, his laundry was done, you ironed his clothes and took care of the whole trail...

And James repaid you with this. Just disappearing into the thin fucking air. 

You looked at the piece of paper Florence gave you and for a while, you searched it on the map. You've visited a few wrong locations on the search and smoked almost half of the pack of cigarettes. But when the night came, you stopped at one place that indeed looked old, but the lights were on. After a short walk, you've noticed his Blazer. And you got mad again.

While you walked in the direction of the cabin, preparing a speech for him, you stumbled upon a wire, making a loud shooting sound when it ripped apart. It was a bang sound so loud, that it scared the birds away. Before you picked yourself up, you saw movements inside the cabin, lights going almost immediately off, and shortly after, James himself came out of the door.

And when you saw him standing there, the bomb inside of you just went off.

"Hey!" - He yelled at you, certainly not being able to recognize you in the darkness. Slowly, he was walking to you and you noticed a gun in his hand. His personal gun. - "Who's there?"

Without hesitation, you ran to him, smacking his cheek and pushing him back. Then you grabbed some leftover snow and threw it at his shirt. Yeah, at the moment James perfectly knew who you were.

"You selfish, fucking, arrogant, ignorant dickhead! You jerk! You idiot! You motherfucker!" - You yelled at him at the top of your lungs, crying hysterically. James slowly exhaled, messaging his nose, lowering the gun. He should know better - he should know that you're capable of tracking him down. He should give you a call or something, but he needed to keep distant and radio silent.

One of his sides was happy that you were there. He missed you so much that it often kept him awake all night long. Sometimes, when he sat at his office all alone, he almost dialed your number just to hear you asking who's on the other end. He missed you sleeping next to him, the way you talked and poked fun of him. He missed you as a whole.

The other side was straightway terrified. You were already in a hysterical state and he knew he fucked things a lot by what he has done. Jim knew that he should explain rather quickly before losing everything that was remaining of your we.

"How can you fucking explain this, James?! How?! You stood me up for almost three fucking months, you left me all alone without a clue whether you're alive or dead, you haven't called, send me a letter, you haven't done anything to let me know!" - You pushed him again and Jim closed his eyes for a while, licking his lips. - “Was it a fucking guessing game for you? Huh? Because I didn't find any of it exciting or fun.”

Yeah, he fucked up badly. You even called him James and you barely have done that before. This is going to take a lot of talking, step by step trust re-building and a load of eating out before you'll be able to trust him again.

"Baby, listen..." - Jim tried to calm you down, but you made one of your hissing sounds, warning him that if even dares to come closer, you'll hit him again with no problem.

"No, you listen! If there's another woman in there, I swear to fucking God, James! You're dead if I find someone out there. I will cut your fucking balls off and wear them as a necklace!" - You pointed at the cabin and at the exact same moment, someone else came out. But it wasn't a woman, just as you would've expected. It was a boy, presumably, looking at you with their hand risen up. You saw James looking at him, snapping as soon as he saw the risen hand.

"Down. Put the hand down, immediately. She's not evil or dangerous." - James stood up in front of you, pushing you behind him, covering you with his body. - "She's just very angry."

After a minute, the boy straightened up and put the hand down, looking at you with interest. What the fuck was happening? Since when did James have a child? Or at least another one which was at least ten years old? Since when it lived with him? What on the world was going on? - "Angry?" - The child asked back and at that moment, you realized that it's not a boy. It was a small girl with short, curly hair, dressed in an old sweatshirt and sweatpants that were too big for her.

"Angry." - She repeated once again before disappearing into the cabin once again, presumably thinking about something.

You stood outside for a moment longer, your arms were still holding Jim's sides and his hands held you in once place.

"Let's just say we have a lot to talk about." - Jim muttered slowly before letting go of you to take a good look at your face since he hasn't seen it in months. He looked at your photo on his nightstand every night since you separated and even though, he forgot how beautiful you were. Especially when you got mad at him. The curve of your nose, opened up lips, and wide eyes. You were stressed and you didn't have any idea of what to think, but it didn't take away any of your beauty.

Without him barely realizing what he's doing, his palm went to palm your jaw, his thumb drawing a circle on your cheek. You were a person who meant the world to him and for the first time in the last three months, he finally felt complete again.

"Will you come inside? We're just havin’ dinner." - Hopper whispered to you and you nodded, wiggling out of his arms, walking to the door. The girl was cautiously watching every move you made, her finger was put on a word in the vocabulary. She was reading the definition of the word angry. That situation was making less and less sense.

Jim helped you out of the jacket, putting it onto the couch. The couch he had in the trailer. Actually, you knew a lot of things in the cabin apart from the couch - you also knew the TV, the fridge and the bookcase. But where did the child came from, you had no idea.

You sat down onto the reaming chair between the girl and Jim. The girl moved further away once you sat down, keeping a safe distance between you. The dinner was rather quiet since you and Jim needed to talk and the girl he got there wasn't really talkative at all. When the main dish was over, Hop served you and himself chocolate ice-cream and a cup of coffee while he gave the girl a frozen Eggo and sent her to the room, telling her not to get the food all over the bed.

"Start talking, James, because this shit is just ridiculous." - You mumbled and watched the wall in front of you, drinking the coffee, not even trying to pay attention to the ice-cream. But you made sure that the girl's doors are closed. - "Do you have any more daughters I should know about?"

"She's not my daughter, Y/N... Or... It's complicated. Remember the Will Byers disappearance incident?" - He asked and you just nodded with a quiet hum, still watching the wall. - "She had escaped the lab nearby. They held her there like a little biology experiment, can you imagine?"

"No, Jim, I can't, but I'm sure that that won't stop you from continuing your story." - You mumbled ironically as a clap back, which made Jim pause for a second before continuing. He was getting everything he deserved, after all.

"She lived in the woods ever since. I was giving her food into a small box every night and one day, she appeared there and started followin’ me. The government is after this girl. And they would do her terrible things once they would find her. I couldn't let that happen." - Jim finished quietly.

He was saving a little girl while you thought he's back to his fucking everything that moves schedule. He was there with her the whole time.

"But not telling me wasn't a solution. Leaving me in the dark wasn't a fucking solution." - You whispered back, not able to look at him. Saving a girl was a good excuse to disappear from the surface of the earth for three months. It was. You couldn't argue with him because of that. But that didn't mean you're over it. Not that easily.

"I know. I should've told you. It was a dick move and I'm really sorry. For everythin'." - His palm found yours on the table and entwined his fingers with yours. - "I'm really sorry."

At that moment, the girl opened up the door again. You almost tried to drag your hand out of the table, but Jim just tightened the grip. Once you knew about Eleven, she should know about you.

"Angry?" - The girl pointed at you with a question. Jim smiled and shook his head, motioning her to sit down with you.

"She was. At me, not at you." - He answered and you nervously looked at her sitting down next to you. She was watching every inch of you which really made you nervous.

"Pretty." - She said simply before turning her face to Jim. She looked at your entwined fingers and furrowed a bit. - "What's that?"

"Holding hands, that's somethin' you do with a boyfriend or a girlfriend, you know, kiddo? This is my girlfriend, Y/N. This is Eleven." - Jim introduced the two of you. For a long time, you just stared at the girl without any movement before you rose your palm to shake hers. Small steps at a time, you reminded yourself, small steps at a time.

The girl was definitely weirded out by the gesture, her hand reached out for yours with suspicion before she caught it. It was a ten seconds lasting handshake before she quickly fetched the hand back on her lap. Clearly, the trust between you two was on point zero and lower.

Then, when this awkward part was finally over, she turned back to Hopper, clearly having more questions on her tongue. For a while, there was silence as Eleven tried to think about some meaningful sentences.

"What is a girlfriend?" - Eleven asked silently, giving too much caution on every syllable.

"Someone you love. A member of your pack, just like the lonely wolf in the fairytale we read yesterday. A member of a family." - Hopper enlightened Eleven in a quiet voice, smiling at her.

"What is a love?" - Eleven asked, being completely caught up in the topic. Her eyes were curiously shining.

"Fetch the vocabulary, this is the word of the day." - Hopper said and as you watched Eleven disappearing in the only room with a proper door, bringing the book she had there before, you realized that you're completely silent, barely breathing. You were afraid to talk or move - Eleven finally calmed down and at least ignored your presence. You didn't want to disturb her and Hopper having their time. Also, from a psychological standpoint, it was seriously interesting.

Finally, Hopper let go of your hand and looked at the word love, just as Eleven did.

"Deep and affecti-cti-onate emotional at-tachment to a person." - She read slowly and really, she was far behind the kids of her age. She looked at Hopper as if she read a spell, and Hopper nodded, licking his lips before continuing.

"It's a feelin’. A feelin’ inside of here." - He pointed at his heart and Eleven mirrored his actions. She nodded, which made him continue. - "You feel happy and safe when the person is around. They make you stron’ and they care about you."

Eleven nodded, looking away for a while before she first pointed at Hopper before she pointed her finger at her chest. - "Love?"

"Yes, this is love." - Hopper stood up and packed her vocabulary, messing her curly hair up. - "Say good night."

"Good... Night." - Eleven mouthed slowly, looking you in the eyes. You smiled back, wishing her a good night as well. With a grin, Hopper led her to her door, making her dress up into her pajama.

"Are you goin’ to stay here a while?" - Hopper asked with hope in his voice, walking behind you. His palms circled around your shoulders, massaging them. - "Here? With me? I have a bottle of good wine in the fridge, I'll give you a ride home, I've missed you..."

"A little while won't kill me." - You bought his offer and a contained smile appeared on your lips. Hopper was still caressing your shoulders and the back of your head leaned into his belly when Eleven opened up the door, standing there, cautiously watching you. She never stopped looking around for a second, didn't she?

"Ready." - She nodded at Hopper and he left to tug Eleven in. You walked around the cabin and cautiously looked at every corner of it, listening to a quiet small talk going on before you saw his shadow sit down to read her a bedtime story.

The cabin seemed oddly impersonal. Hopper was trying to hide his life away from Eleven. It was for Eleven to feel like she was the only one in his life, the center of his small universe. Hopper was focused on Eleven and their bonding and you knew that, but it hurt to see Hopper completely erasing everything you two had. He should've told you right away. You weren't a bitch and this was a completely understandable situation.

Then you looked into his small room in the back of the cabin, repressed by only a doorframe and a piece of dark cloth. And Jesus fucking Christ, you could straightway tell that this room is Hopper's doing. It was ultra messy, his clothes were everywhere, there was an empty can of beer here and there, some leftovers, dirty and fresh clothes, unmade bed - yes, home sweet home.

And there you saw it - his old detective books, the album of naughty photos and the photo you loved so much directly on his nightstand. You walked through the mess and looked at the framed photo, having a small smile on your lips. When you put it down, you bent over to pick up his shirt, covering yourself in it.

You've missed him so much. Oh, you closed your eyes, breathing in his smell mixed with cologne and cigarette smoke. Dear Lord, the smell on its own made you smile.

After a while, you went back to the living room, still seeing his shadow reading the bedtime story, you've heard his voice changing rhythm and depth depending on which character he was reading as.

You didn't even know how, but during your waiting for Hopper, you've fallen asleep. When he entered the room, looking at sleeping Eleven for the last time, you were sitting on the couch, your legs were folded below you.

A smile spread on his lips when he walked to sit on the couch next to you. Hopper didn't mean to wake you up, but he couldn't stop himself as his fingers reached out to smooth the hair off your neck. Before he could stop himself, his lips were traveling on your neck. He heard you sleepily giggle, your palm smoothing one of his shoulders while he laid you down.

"Well, hello there." - You murmured into his ear and hugged him, while he pressed his body onto yours bringing you even closer. - "I've missed you." - Hopper sighed and continued with kissing down a trail between your breasts.

"Oh, did you?" - You mumbled back, slowly waking up. You've been sleeping for only twenty minutes, but since you've been on the edge of breaking down the whole day, you've been really tired.

"Every damn night." - His face appeared in front of yours and that smile... Made your heart pound faster. Your fingers were caressing his jaws and you finally rose your knees to rest them on his sides, pressing himself closer.

"Jim, Eleven..." - You mumbled and looked on the door while Hopper worked on kissing your neck, unbuttoning the shirt you had on. - "She's asleep. I swear."

"You also swore that you have a bottle of wine. Empty promises." - Your fingers caught his chin and you brought his face back to look at you. - “It will be better not to take things quickly. What about me coming here tomorrow? Its Saturday and maybe, I can find some things both me and Eleven like.” 

“No. For the first few times, I think it shouldn't be for too long. Before you both get a hold on it.” - Jim sat up and you immediately followed him. - “What about Monday night?” 

For a while, you kept quiet. Eleven was definitely a special girl, but now, she was somehow a part of your life as well. It was up to Jim and you to find a way to make all of this work. Slowly, you reached out for his hand and held it tightly. 

“Yeah. Monday evening sounds about right. I’m usually ready to go at eight o’clock precisely. Do you want to pick me up at Marty’s?” - You asked innocently, a smile appearing on your lips. 

“I'll be there. Eight o’clock, not a minute late.” - Jim answered and you nodded, standing up, ready to go for your jacket. Both you and Hopper knew that you have his shirt on, but you weren't giving it back by any chance. Of course, he walked you to the car, where you gave him a short look before opening the door. 

“See you on Monday. I'll take some food from the bistro so you won't have to cook. That girl is already enough of a wretch.” - You smiled and almost got in, but an arm stopped you. Hopper leaned in, cathing your waist and giving you a deep kiss. You got caught up in the moment for a while, but after a while, he let go off you.

“Monday, at eight o’clock. not a minute later.” - You whispered, stealing the last peck before you drove home.

[neonsentient]

Haikyuu! Rise Above

A ragtag group of students from a school for troubled teenagers forms an unconventional co-ed volleyball team in hopes of proving to themselves that they're more than what people make them to be. With the help of a few loopholes in the rulebook, they'll have the chance to win the gold for what might possibly be the last time in their lives.

Think of it as a spin-off, the Karasuno's first years are now second years, but I will focus on this paticular team.

Warnings: Mentions of drug abuse, underage drinking, self harm, eating disorders, depression, suicide, racial and homophobic slurs. Not all at the same time though.  

Chapter 1: Promising Young People

Amara leaned closer to the toilet as she gagged, throwing up her measly breakfast of tea and apple slices, the only things she could stomach that morning. In an unusual lucky strike, the bathroom she was currently in puking her guts out was empty.  It probably had something to do with the fact that she decided to arrive at the school building an hour earlier, otherwise she would’ve had an audience.

She rose from the floor, wobbling like a newborn fawn, and went to check herself in the bathroom mirror. Her russet skin had an unhealthy pallor to it, her waist-length crow black braids were loose and poorly made and the bags under her eyes could’ve been easily mistaken for bruises. That morning she didn’t even bother to look for her makeup bag in her suitcase.

“First impressions matter, you know?” Her parents would’ve told her. “It’s not every day you get to make them.”

“But I already made mine.” Amara thought bitterly.

She splashed cold water on her face and rinsed her mouth as best as she could.  Now she was regretting not bringing at least some concealer or even chapstick.

“As if that were to make things any better.” A voice hissed from the back of her head. “As if that would…..”

Amara shook her head, bringing herself back as she checked her wrist watch. She was supposed to meet her guide at the entrance. In a normal scenario, she would’ve already known by now where everything in the school was, her classes, the gym, the best spots for a smoke break……

But despite being her second year of high school, it was her first year at Ōkamiyama Alternative Academy. In fact, since most of her education consisted of homeschooling, it was her first time back at school since she was in elementary, period. And unlike many other students who had arrived at least a week earlier, Amara’s messy flight schedule made her arrive only a day before the school started.

One look at the main building and it was clear that the school had a thing for a certain color scheme, or lack thereof, rather, since Amara noticed that all the buildings were either black, white or gray. That and the uniforms, a dreadful combination of a prison concrete gray blazer and pants or skirt with a white shirt and black tie. Luckily, the school didn’t seem to be too strict on the dress code, since she saw several students with all sorts of accessories, shoes and even altered pieces of the uniform.

She decided to play it safe by wearing it plain with a pair of rather sad looking black loafers that had seen better days - an emergency purchase at Target after her suede Jimmy Choo boots fell victim to an unexpected downpour-, and a gray Casio. It's not like she was expecting the sailor tops and blue skirts she saw on TV, but the overall look did leave Amara incredibly disappointed.  

Her guide was a girl called Emine Narisawa, also a second year and in the same class as her. Other than that she didn’t knew anything else. It was still a bit early, so she sat at a bench near the entrance, and to no surprise, it didn’t took long for the stares and whispers to start.

“That’s her, right?”

“Oh, so it was for real?”

“Is it just me, or did she looked taller on TV?

Amara’s vision turned blurry, her eyes curdling with tears. She quickly dug into her bag, pulled out her IPod nano (one of the few devices that the school allowed) and headphones and pressed shuffle, not even paying attention to the song that was playing as she took several deep breaths.

She tried her best to distract herself with anything, yet not even a second later, Amara felt a light tapping on her shoulder. She jolted on her seat, took off her headphones and turned to face the person behind her.

“Ups! Sorry!” A cheery voice apologized. “You’re Amara Murakami, right?

The girl was tall, not as much as Amara, but still taller than the average second year girl, and model-thin, with long hair the dark red of rose petals tied in a high ponytail. A ridiculously big, silvery gray bow sat atop her head. Amara immediately noticed her uniform, or “uniform”; the blazer had been turned into a button vest, the gray skirt was embezzled with black and white rhinestones and she sported a pair of white Adidas sneakers. Amara had bought the same ones just two months ago. A thin, white gold anklet with pea-sized bubblegum-pink sapphires was clasped at her slim ankle.

“My name’s Emine Narisawa, but everyone calls me Emi! Wow, you’re taller than I imagined.” The girl chirped. Her voice had a slight hoarse edge to it, which combined with her super girly perfume, an overly sweet combination of flowers and strawberry, made Amara suspect that she was a smoker and that she probably had a cigarette before the tour. “Welcome to The Den!”

Amara could only raise her eyebrows.

“Get it? Cuss we’re wolves!” The girl pointed at the welcoming banner hanging in the entrance, where a menacing looking gray wolf was painted.

“Right.” Amara nodded, not knowing what else to say. "Umm, thanks?"

The redhead caught her hand in an overly enthusiastic handshake. She had a pretty face, although her cheeks looked a tad bit gaunt, and she wore silver eyeshadow with glitter all over her face and hair. Her tanned skin, a shade lighter than Amara’s, was completely covered with freckles, and her lips were painted a shimmering soft pink.

“Wow, your eyes look super cool!” She said, inspecting Amara’s face. “You’re from America, right? Is one of your parents Japanese?”

“So she hasn’t heard of me.” Amara thought with relief. She then noticed that Emine was waiting for an answer.

“Y-yeah I’m from Massachusetts.” She answered. “Umm, my dad’s Japanese and m-my mom’s Nipmuc.”

The redhead cocked her head in confusion.

“Native American.” Amara explained.

Emine’s licorice black eyes lit up.  

“Cool! So you guys are the ones that make, like, dreamcatchers and stuff?” She asked. There wasn’t a single hint of malice in her voice, just genuine curiosity, but still, it made Amara feel annoyed.  

“Ummm…”

“My Nine was from Turkey,” Emine said. “And they have these Nazar amulets to ward off the evil eye or something. Is it the same thing?”

“I don’t…”

“Anyways, you’ll love it here. It never gets boring!” Emine explained as she leaned uncomfortably close, linking her arm with Amara’s. “Follow me, I’ll take you to our classroom.”

The girls made their way inside the building and all the way through Emine "discreetly" pointed out rooms and people, giving Amara a crash course on the school, the students and teachers.

By the time they reached their classroom, Amara had learned that the captain of the baseball team had just began dating the president of the Student Council, crop tops were back in style, the back of the football field was the best place to smoke and that the guys from the Shōgi club sold the best ketamine during midterms.

"Don't they do drug tests all the time?" Amara asked. She herself had an appointment in the nurse’s office later that night for one.

Emine nodded.

"Yup, but it's a six panel."

It was Amara's turn to be confused once again. She had drug tests done before but she only...provided the sample, she never bothered to ask about the details.

"Weed, coke, speed, benzos, angel dust and opiates. All the mainstream stuff," Emine explained. "Ketamine doesn't show."

“Oh.” Amara said. “I thought there weren’t a lot of drug users in Japan.”

“Oh there are,” Emine said, occasionally waving to the people in the hallway. “And here are some of the ones that got caught.”  

“Good to know?”

Amara thought that drugs were a rare commodity in Japan, but then she remembered where she was….

“So…” The redhead began, pulling Amara out of her thoughts. “How are you liking the dorms so far?”

“They’re cool.” Amara replied in a monotone voice. “My roommate hasn’t showed up yet, though.”

“Oh yeah, I heard she’s busy with some family stuff.” Emine pointed out.

“So you know her?” Amara inquired. “What’s she like? I mean, personality wise.”

Emine scrunched up her face, trying to find the right words.

“Well, she’s a bit of a…..

“Bitch!” A voice yelled from the other side of the hallway.

A girl walked towards them with a rhythmic and intense stride that made Amara think she was going to do a handspring or cartwheel at any second. She was gorgeous, what people would call a “Bombshell”, with sun tanned skin as if she had spent an entire summer at the beach, and a long mane of sandy blonde waves styled in the same way as Emine; a high ponytail with a bow on top, though hers was black. Her dark teal eyes had a gleam that Amara could only describe as “keen”.

The girl faced directly at the redhead with a quasi indignant look. Amara noticed that her look was very similar to Emine's; the embezzled skirt and altered blazer, shimmery eyeshadow and glitter sprinkled all over her face and hair.

"I can take a couple missed calls but ignoring me the whole summer was just mean!" She said, giving the redhead an angry look.

Emine looked saddened.

"I'm sor…..”

Before the redhead could finish the blonde interrupted her with a big hug.

"I've been worried sick! Even a "Don't text me" would've been enough!" She cried, clinging to Emine's neck. "Never do that again, got it?"

Emine's expression eased as she returned the hug.

"Never again."

If there was something worse than being a third wheel Amara sure was being just that at the moment.

The girls broke their hug and a pair of teal eyes immediately fell on Amara. They weren't menacing, just, observing her. The blonde was significantly shorter than Amara and Emine, but her presence felt more….. imposing. Even with the uniform, Amara could see the outline of muscle on her legs and arms.

"Oh!" Emine exclaimed, as if she had just remembered that Amara was there, and gestured towards the blonde. "Amara, this is Erika Sawai, captain of the cheer squad.

“Now it makes sense,” Amara connected the dots as she looked at both Emine and the blonde. The perky attitude, the lithe build, and even the bows. “They’re cheerleaders.”

“And Erika, this is….."

"Amara Murakami," Erika said, capturing Amara's hand in a firm handshake. "Rumour mill went that you were gonna end up here. But for future reference, I wouldn't trust anything they say around here. It tends to be a little….unreliable."

"Umm, sure" Amara said. She wasn't sure how to react to that. "I-I'll keep that in mind."

“My, my,” Erika leaned a bit closer. Amara caught the scent of the blonde's peach blossom perfume.  “What pretty eyes you have.”

“Uh, thanks.” Amara muttered.

"Oh, I know!" Emine perked up with an “Eureka!” type of expression. “Since I can’t join you guys for lunch why don’t you go with Amara to the cafeteria, Erika?”

Amara felt incredibly awkward. Day one and she was already being ditched by the one person that was supposed to be with her.

“Sure.” Erika shrugged, a smirk appearing on her face. “I love fresh meat.”

Amara gulped. Why did spending a couple hours with a cheerleader, a really pretty one to boot, made her more nervous than stepping into a court filled with professional players?

Then the bell pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Come on, Amara!” Urged Emine. The redhead turned quickly and gave Erika one last hug before entering the classroom. “And see you later Erika!”

Erika waved them goodbye before making her way to her classroom.

Their first classes; English, Math, Japanese literature and Science seeped through Amara’s brain like water on a strainer. Luckily none of her teachers made her introduce herself to the class so far.

But on the other hand, she couldn’t help but notice the “subtle” whispers and looks from her classmates.

A few minutes after the bell rang they found Erika already outside. Emine apologized to Amara, promising to be back as soon as lunch was over and making quick plans with Erika to catch up later in the day before she made her way into an unknown destination. Amara was tempted to ask, but at the same time she told herself that she knew better than prying on someone else’s business.

She exited the classroom and was immediately greeted by Erika’s sly smile.

“Long time no see, Sugar.”

Amara gave her a tight smile as they walked towards their destination.

_________________________________________________________________________

The principal was a firm believer that a healthy diet was key to a healthy mind, therefore, the school’s vending machines only offered water, organic soy milk, sugar-free drinks, fruit and protein bars.

There were two cafeterias, but Amara was told upon arrival that she only had access to one of them. There, most of the menu items were either boiled, steamed or baked and it also had an all-you-can-eat salad bar and a drink station where one could get teas, coffees, smoothies or juices. Amara thought it was a sharp, yet nice, contrast with her old elementary school’s cafeteria choices of cardboardy pizza, dry meatloaf and congealed mac 'n' cheese.  

Amara silently wondered what was the deal with the other cafeteria as she took a spoonful of miso soup.

“Liking the food so far?” Erika asked, placing her tray opposite to Amara's. She had a bowl brimming with a colorful salad of greens, pecans, apples and fennels, a plate of spiced tofu and two cups; one filled with a pale orange drink and the other with a beige colored liquid. She handed the beige one to Amara. " Here, try this."

She had told Erika that her stomach was feeling a little odd (yet not the reason as to why), so Amara trusted that anything she had given her wouldn't kill her on the spot. She took a sip and despite the unappetizing color the flavour was delicious; sweet, creamy yet not too heavy, and with the aftertaste of almonds. It felt nice on her tender stomach.

"Wow," Amara said, pleasantly surprised. "What's this?"

Erika winked and smiled. For a second, it reminded Amaran of someone else's smile.

"My Mama calls it the Jitter Killer." She explained, her voice emitting a hint of nostalgia. "She's been making them for me ever since I started competing. But once I got here I had to start making them myself."

"It's really good!" Amara complimented, taking another sip. She then thanked her, wholeheartedly. Gestures like those literally made her day a thousand times less shitty.

"Any time, Sugarcube." She chuckled, and then leaned towards her with a curious expression. "But do tell. How is a first day of school more intimidating than stepping into a court filled with three meter sized Amazonians?"

Amara lowered her face and blushed. She only told her that she wasn’t feeling good, she never told her the reason.

"Is it really that obvious?"

"You look exactly how I did on the day of my first competition." Erika recalled. "I believe I was around six?"

"What?" Amara said. "Do cheerleaders really start that young?"

"Yup." Erika nodded. "Especially in the States. They love their cheers there, let me tell ya."

"You're from there too?"

"Mama's from Texas" The blonde said. "So it’s always been half and half until now. We still go for the holidays though, they’re much more fun there."

"Sounds cool. I'm from Massachusetts, and I've only been in Japan like twice….until now."

The atmosphere suddenly became grim, and Amara felt her breath hitch. Erika's hand reached for hers.

"Hey." Emiki said, her voice serious. "I know you probably heard this enough but...I'm really sorry for your loss."

Amara's eyes began to curdle with tears.

"You're actually one of the only ones to tell me that."

Then she broke into sobs.

"S-sorry." Amara tried to apologize. Last night she had cried herself to sleep in her dorm, clutching a pair of worn out volleyball shoes, not even bothering to unpack, she just wasn’t in the mood for anything but crying. And there she thought that she had cried everything last night…...

Erika bolted from her seat and to her side, placing her hands on Amara's shoulder in a comforting manner.

"Oh, Honey Bee." She said. "Don't you dare apologize for your feelings ever again. You better promise me that"

Amara sniffed and nodded.

"You wanna talk about it?" Erika asked, the way a mother would when trying to comfort her child.

"I….

"There you are!" A voice interrupted. "We've been looking for you everywhere, morra!"  

Amara and Erika both turned and looked. There were three girls, each one different from the other. They were around the same height but that was where the similarities ended. One had brown skin, long glossy black hair in a single thick braid tied with a gray bow and umber brown eyes traced with glittery makeup. A gold stud glinted in her nose. The other had bronze skin, waist-length chocolate colored hair with a gray bow atop and eyes like two yellow tourmalines. On her face was a red lipped, wicked dimpled smile, like a kid who’d just finished pulling up a prank. The third one was a bit meek looking, with rosy white skin, a cloud of short strawberry blonde hair with a white bow on top and soft green eyes. She fidgeted with her hands and seemed ready to throw up at any second. Amara immediately felt a bout of compassion towards her.

“It’s lunch time, where else would I be?” Erika asked with a confused expression.

“Good point.” The brown haired girl said. She took a sip from the giant coffee cup in her hand. “Can we join you?”

Erika gestured at the empty seats.

The black haired girl looked at Amara up and down, from her messy braids and puffy red eyes to the plain black loafers.

“First time here?” She asked her as she sat.

Amara nodded and noticed their outfits; skirts embroidered with flowers and crystals, Miu Miu sneakers and Birkin bags. How she wished she had her new Air Jordans with her….

“Aww! I remember my first day as if it was yesterday.” The brown haired girl sighed.

The black haired girl furrowed her brow.

“Didn’t you threw up from withdrawal?”

“It was from a hangover, not withdrawal! They’re like two different things!” The brown haired girl corrected, indignant.

Erika cleared her throat, making the three girls turn their heads at her.

“Amara, these are my friends and members of the cheer squad.” Erika explained.

She pointed at the black haired girl.

“This is Kumari Hanan, our best flyer.”

Kumari gave Amara a small nod.

“This is Ximena Otakara, our dance expert and choreographer.”

“And future celebrity, don’t forget that.” The brown haired girl added with a wink.

Erika rolled her eyes and then pointed at the strawberry blonde girl.

“And this is our newest addition to the team, Kara Tamada”

Kara gave Amara a timid smile and wave.  

“Kumari is a third year like me, Ximena’s a second year like you, and Kara is a freshman.” Erika explained and then gestured at Amara. “Girls, this is Amara Murakami, please don’t torture her.”  

“A la madre! ” Ximena looked at her, surprised. “Wicked eyes, girl!”

Amara lowered her gaze and mumbled an empty thanks. If there was something she was used to at that point in her life, was of people making comments about her eyes.

"Sectoral heterochromia." Were the doctor's oficial words.

"Stained glass eyes." Her friends often called them.

"Woodland eyes." Her grandfather had called them. "Brown for the soil, black for the stone and green for the life."

"You carry your land within your eyes, Amara." He told her once. "You will never be lost."

“If only that were true.” Amara couldn’t help but think.

But then she saw Ximena’s eyes squinting in concentration.

“No mames, I’ve seen you before!” She said, proud of her discovery. “You’re that volleyball chick!”

“Holy shit, you’re right.” Kumari joined.

Amara’s stomach plummeted and her face paled, which Erika noticed.

“Damn it you two, what did I just say!?” The blonde scolded. Her tone was the same one Amara’s mom used when reprimanding her. “Hope you’re in the mood for running suicides today!”

"What? Why?" Ximena and Kumari cried.

"That's okay, Erika." Amara reassured her. "It's not like it's a secret, anyway."

“See? We have the Ok.” Ximena said, earning a murderous gaze from Erika.

Then an awkward silence filled the table.

“So…” Kumari began, taking a sip of her purple smoothie. “You’re joining the volleyball team?”

In Ōkamiyama, all students were required to join a school club or association, and from looking at the list that came with the welcoming pamflet, there seemed to be quite a lot, from embroidery and cooking to horse riding and rock climbing. There were even some odd ones like “The Cheese Connoisseurs Association” and “Apocalypse Survival Prepping Club”. And there were also the typical sports clubs like baseball, basketball, football* and of course, volleyball.

She didn’t wanted to give up volleyball, but the wound was still so fresh it still bled…...

“I-I don’t know.” She mumbled. “I’m still not sure. I have a week, don’t I?

“Yeah, of course.” Erika reassured her. “And if you need more time, you can ask the therapist for an extension.”

Amara had completely forgot about the therapist.

In a normal school, a counselor was usually available for students if they wished so, but here it was mandatory to have individual one hour weekly therapy sessions,and once she joined a club, group therapy would also become obligatory. Amara’s first session was scheduled for Sunday.

“Yeah, don't sweat it!” Ximena said.

“Isn't Emi also joining the volleyball team?” Kumari inquired.

Amara raised an eyebrow.

“I thought she was a cheerleader.” She asked, looking at Erika.

“Emphasis on was.” Ximena sighed.

“And not just that, she was...is...the best tumbler in the prefecture.” Kara explained in a soft voice.

“Really?” Amara asked, she knew from somewhere that tumbler meant acrobat, basically a gymnast with a mini skirt instead of a leotard. “Then why did she quit?”

Ximena, Kumari and Erika looked at each other.

“She didn’t told you?” Kumari asked.

“Tell me what?” Amara looked at Erika for guidance.

“Okay that’s enough.” The blonde’s face had a not so subtle hint of worry. “That’s not for us to talk about, I’m sure that in time Emi will tell you all about it.”

Amara certainly felt a bit pained for being left out, but it was someone whom she literally just met, so she concluded that she had no right to be upset either.  

Kara must’ve sensed the tense atmosphere and quickly asked some questions about the cheer squad. There were many terms that Amara did not understood, but she soon became fascinated. The cheerleaders at the games Amara played in danced around and cheered (duh!) but the way Erika and the others talked about the work plan for their squad it was clear that they did more than that.

“Hey, why don’t you join the squad?” Erika suggested.

“We do need more tumblers.” Kumari pointed out.

“Yeah.” Ximena agreed. “How are your back handsprings?”

“Ummm...nonexistent?”  Amara admitted, although the idea did sound nice. “I do have a mean cartwheel, though.”

The girls chuckled.

“Okay, maybe we can help you find another club if volleyball and cheerleading won’t do it for ya.” Erika smiled and stood, walking towards a notice board and taking a poster version of the clubs and associations list.

“Let’s see then.”

They tried to summarize each club as best as they could, counting the pros and cons and telling her about the people in them.

“What’s the Wolf Kingdom Club?” Amara asked, slightly amused by the odd names.

Everyone grunted, which Amara took as a bad sign.

“That’s the historical reenactment club.” Erika said. “They do everything medieval, and I mean everything.”

“Except dying from the plague.” Kumari muttered.

“So that’s a no?” Amara inquired.

“Depends.” Ximena said. “Do you like dancing with seven layers of clothing on and churning your own butter?”

“Pass.” Amara said.  

And so they spent the rest of the lunch break going over the list in hopes of finding something for Amara, but nothing seemed to catch her attention. Kara spoke on occasions whenever she felt in danger of being forgotten.

By the time the bell rung, they’ve managed to narrow it down to the basketball team and the basket weaving club. She had the height and the jump for the first one and the skills for the last one.

“If you change your mind, you should go with Emi to the tryouts after school.” Erika reminded her as they walked towards Amara’s classroom.

She nodded weakly, lost in thought.

Erika sighed and tapped her shoulder, making their eyes meet.

“Look, I don’t know a lot about volleyball, but I do know that it shares something in common with cheerleading.”

Amara arched an eyebrow. Then, Erika grabbed her hands, the blonde's lightly tanned skin clashing with Amara's russet complexion. Their eyes met, and Erika’s had one of the most serious expressions Amara had ever seen.

“Jumps are the most thrilling part, as well as the hardest.” She said. “When we jump, we don’t take steps back, not even to gain momentum. It’s always forwards, full force.”

Amara had so many questions about those words, yet she didn’t ask. Was it fear or confusion that stopped her? She didn’t knew. But for a moment she was sure the girl was saying that there was only one way to go.

Forward.

[stonerbughead]

Maria watches friday night lights (#23)

Okay wow 4x13 was an amazing season finale!

here we goooo, under the cut:

“big cat clash” lol

Ooooh Jess at the press conference, standing below exchanging eyes with both Landry and Vince 👀

Omfg of course the Riggins brothers both have drunk and disorderly arrests on their records. oh nooo. Poor Mindy! And all over medical debt 😭

Awww Julie and Mrs. Saracen’s relationship is so cute but AH Matt’s back and didn’t tell her???? He looked so cute (and annoyingly so if I were Julie) coming up behind his grandma at the front door!

Ooooh good Eric Taylor speech overlaying a montage like damn that speech got ME pumped up like YEAH WE CAN BEAT THE DILLION PANTHERS I BELIEVE IT

“It’s bad enough having to read this gibberish, let alone having to do it in front of you.” Oh Tami my heart!! Eric offering to make her a cup of coffee. Oh relationship goals!

Ew Landry bragging about his demo is like the opposite of hot to me but I’ve made my feelings clear on this already lol. “songs for Jess,” dude tryna be maroon 5 this is cringe

Oh SHIT Jess came out and said it with her feelings for Vince!!! Yeah. Ok yeah saw that coming, can’t say I’m mad.

Saracen and Julie catching up while shopping in the grocery store also while Julie is clearly upset is A Lot. Phewww!

“You know, most people tell their girlfriends when they leave and say goodbye.” Fair! “I needed to get out of here. If I tried to say goodbye to you, I never would’ve left.” AGH 🥺

oh WOW Saracen bought her a ticket to see his apartment in Chicago? Ok, making some amends, I see you!

Oh no this love triangle is gonna affect the East Dillon gameplay!!!

Oh Tami’s not gonna be able to do it, is she?YESSSSS gurl !!! Sticking to your principles, you are the most badass lady!!

“That is not an apology!” Yeah bitch she doesn’t have to apologize to you for giving a teenage girl comprehensive sex education advice in the face of a teenage pregnancy. Get your anti choice ass out of here.

Oh Saracen you did the leaving thing so wrong 🤦🏻‍♀️ Landry doesn’t look too happy to see ya either!

Omfg Buddy is bringing a deep fryer to Tami’s for thanksgiving???? Absolutely not don’t do this to Tami! (It’s so cute how the Taylors welcome their home to so many tho!!!)

They’re gonna make her get fired on the Saturday after thanksgiving? Fucking cold anti choice assholes.

Damn this is really a bottom of the barrel moment for Tim if even Becky thinks he’s trash. He did it for such honorable reasons tho UGH

very American that Eric is having the team practice on thanksgiving and that he’s dismissing them one by one to go see their families lol

And Eric wanted to make sure Vince had somewhere to go awww

Lol @ Mrs. Saracen loving the deep fried turkey

Also lol @ Julie and Matt at the kids’ table! so cute

This is one tense thanksgiving, they do such a good job of showing each character silently brewing in the issue plaguing them.

Way to interrupt the turkey argument for that nice— albeit sad—toast, billy! “I don’t know where I’d be without y’all.” 🥺

Aww seeing Vince and his mom eat food the Merriweathers brought them warms my heart too! Aw and Jess is here with pie? So fucking cute.

Tim wanting to fight to keep becky’s friendship after Billy’s toast is super precious.

Damn all the “closed for the game” signs on either side of town!!! The imagery in this show cannot be beat.

Awww yes to Matt, Julie, and Mrs. Saracen cheering for Landry.

Damn Eric is putting Luke in to run his play with Vince??? AHH

“WE GOT OURSELVES AN OLD FASHIONED BARN BURNER!” !!!!!!! Ahhhh

GO UNDERDOGS!!!!!

Oh no oh no oh no Luke injured himself. Aw Tinker helped him get up my heart 😭

AHHHHH they’re having Landry kick? You got this babe, Eric Taylor and your best friend Matt believe in you!

YESSSSS HE DID IT! They won! TAKE THAT, ASSHOLE MCCOYS!!!

My heart that Matt got to watch Landry do that!!!

Tami congratulating Eric on the field!

Damn Sammy Meade ate shit and said he was almost converted to a Lions fan AND applauded Eric Taylor’s leadership? Love this shot of Eric in the car hearing that with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Yesss go head up the counseling program at East Dillon, Tami! Love that journey for you.

“So why are we here, Matthew?” “Because this is our special spot.” “Because you DEFLOWERED me here?” “well I wouldn’t use those words necessarily but...yeah.” LMAO

Aw “you’re a hard person to stay mad at” and omg yay he’s finally apologizing. The communication they needed.

Damn Julie saying you can’t go bc you have to find your own Chicago and you wouldn’t want to leave Chicago if he was there??? GROWTH. I’m very pleased that they finally talked that out.

Ugh I knew Tim was gonna fall on the sword for Billy!!! What a guy 🥺 he just wants Billy and Mindy and their son to be together omfg the tears!!! The emotion! The fact that this all happened bc they couldn’t afford Mindy’s medical bills!!!

I love Landry saying “oh whatever” and letting Matt in but YES MATT APOLOGIZE TO YOUR FRIEND. We love friendship.

Tim turning himself in, my heart.

Awwwuh Julie, Eric, and Grace putting up Christmas decorations, so cute!

Lol love that Landry scammed and got that ticket to Chicago with Matt.

Meeeep excited to see how season 5 wraps it all up, I’ve heard only good things!

[cora-says]

A bathrobe, not a summoning robe

So I saw a post earlier that I simply can't find about Aziraphale accidentally summoning Crowley by thinking about him so I word vomited this! Hope you enjoy!

Aziraphale beamed as he looked over his handy work. His bathroom was transformed from its usual empty state into one of pure luxury. A lavish clawfoot tub sat against the cream wall practically overflowing with bubbles. The bubbles were tinted green from the mint that had been infused into it, invisible to the human eye but he could see it and it was a subtle touch that he loved. Littered amongst the bubbles were beautiful red and yellow rose petals, the same color as the beautiful eyes and hair that lingered in his memory, soft to the touch. Black candles, like the pitch back wings and garb that surrounded his beloved, were arranged neatly around the tub, filling the room with the sweet smell of tobacco. He breathed in deeply, the mint and tobacco playing off each other wonderfully. It reminded him of the nights spent smoking pipe with Crowley in the 19th century. He rather missed smoking but that period of going ‘cold turkey’ as the humans called it, was hellish. As the red bath bomb he dropped in the bath slowly began to fizz, he smiled. This was heaven, or well his heaven. He doubts any other angel would appreciate his efforts. The thought of Gabriel sneering at his pleasure soured his mood ever so slightly. Gabriel would absolutely loathe it, he hated human things and if he were to ever bathe it would probably be miracled with holy water. Aziraphale shook the thought from his mind and scanned the room to make sure everything was in place, a candle wasn't lit. He bustled over to the candle, miracling a box of matches into his hand swearing as he broke the match he was so desperately trying to light. He could have just miracled the perfect bath but it was that little extra effort of struggling with a match to light the candles that made it special.

Finally after several match casualties the candle lit. Satisfied, he slipped his robe off and set it gingerly next to the fluffy towels neatly folded on the floor. He made sure that it was slightly away from the tub do it wouldn't get wet. Aziraphale had gotten that robe back in 1508 and he swore up and down that nothing else would ever compare. It felt like a cloud, a mix of silk and wool that the creator had taken to the grave literally. It was worn from the centuries of use but that only made it more comfortable, perfectly adjusted to his form. He remembers insisting on Crowley getting a robe as well but was rejected on the grounds of, "I don't even have a house where would I put this angel?", said as if he didn't have the pocket space to keep his endless supply of glasses. If he remembered correctly Crowley didn't keep them in the pocket space anymore rather displaying them in his flat. Gosh, it had been forever since he had been in Crowley's flat. He liked to move every once in a while to remain inconspicuous. Was he still in the one on 5th Street or- As he felt a draft his ears tinged pink. He wasn't in the tub yet, he had spaced out thinking of Crowley again. It seemed to be a much more common experience since 1941. Willing his blush down he stepped into the tub and dear lord that felt good. With a little wiggle, he slid into the tub with a happy little hum. The bubbles enveloped him and as he heard the fizzle of his bath bomb he knew exactly what this bath needed. With a snap of his fingers, he summoned a bottle of champagne and glasses. 

Glasses...

He sighed looking at the pair of glasses he had summoned rather than the one glass he had intended. It was almost second nature at this point to summon two things rather than one. It was always him and Crowley, never just him  That wasn't a problem no, in fact, he loved it when they were together! It was his feelings and attachment that was the problem. Aziraphale sighed, a light blush tinting his cheeks as he slid lower onto the bubbles. He could barely keep his cool around the devil anymore, every time he swaggered into sight his thoughts just flew straight out the window. How on Earth did Crowley walk like that? The demon had been strutting like that for centuries yet it always stunned him. He grumbled to himself about the unfairness of feelings as he poured himself a glass of champagne leaving the other one alone. It's not like he wasn't acting on his feelings. True he wasn't outright telling him that he was in love, god how would that go 'thanks for dinner hey just wanted to let you know I'm in love with you'. No, he decidedly wasn't doing that but he was acting on his feelings. Honestly after centuries of friendship, one would think that Crowley would see his change in behavior! The more common calls, the frequent invitations for him to come to the bookshop for a drink and the physical touches, the shoulder bumps and countless hand brushes. Aziraphale was practically screaming his affection from the rooftops, he loved Crowley he really did but he was oblivious! Little did Aziraphale know that Crowley had felt this way for centuries, constantly trying to tempt him into hanging out he was just as if not more oblivious. The bathroom was silent as the fizzer finally dissolved, but Aziraphale didn't even notice too lost in his lovesick thoughts. God, he had seen Crowley two days ago! He shouldn't be pining this hard they even had a dinner planned this Saturday. The sound logic, however, was lost on his feelings as they cried out for him to see his demon again. He shifted in the tub the water sloshing around him. Crowley's this and Crowley that! He needed to get a grip on himself, he wouldn't accomplish anything moping like this. His feelings didn't share the same sentiment still pining and distracting him from what was supposed to be a relaxing bath. This was getting ridiculous he didn't need to be with Crowley every minute of every day. But God did he want too. He wanted to preen his black wings, read as Crowley slept beside him, he wanted to stroll in their favorite park hand in hand, and dear God did he want to kiss him. Most of all he just wanted to be with Crowley even if it was just restocking the shop or taking a bath togeth-

A loud pop filled Aziraphale’s ears that certainly didn't come from the bath and suddenly something dropped into his bathtub. Aziraphale pushed against the back of the tub something thrashed in his tub. The water sloshed around spilling on the floor, bubbles and black feathers flying through the air. 

Black Feathers?

Wings jerked awkwardly in the air as the body they were attached too was still submerged. Aziraphale pushed further back in the tub his complexion turning pale. He hadn't summoned the demon, had he?! Oh God, his pining had actually brought Crowley here! He wanted the demon to know how he felt but not like this! The demon finally emerged from the bubbles still thrashing. "What the bloody-hak- Who dares?! hak WHO DARES SUMMON ME?!" Crowley looked around wildly noticing the black candles littered around the room common in summonings. He swears if those god damned teenage girls had summoned him again he was going to kill Stephanie. The snarl on his face faltered as he saw a disgruntled angel covered in bubbles sitting in the bathtub next to him. "Zira? What on Earth-" Aziraphale we blushed at the nickname and desperately tried to keep his panic from showing. Oh, who was he kidding he felt like he might just discorporate on the spot. Floundering the angel tried to say something along the lines of either ‘Crowley what on Earth are you doing here’ or ‘I summoned you by accident but I still want you here because I'm desperately in love with you’ but all that came out was 

"Champagne?"

[mustangshelby04]

Boston Boy - Chapter 9

Chris made sure the drink carrier was steady before grabbing the bags of food with his other hand.  He headed towards the main doorway and carefully opened the door.  Kate was just passing by the doors on her way back to her office and spotted him.�� The smile that lit up her face made his world feel complete suddenly.  She rushed over to open the door, setting the file she was holding down on the reception desk.

“Hi!” She took the drink carrier from him and he kissed her. “You really didn’t have to get us food.”

“I know, but I wanted to see the office.  I was too tired to notice my surroundings this morning.” “The coffee didn’t help?” She led the way into the conference room.

“A little.  But I went back to your place and crashed.  I woke up just before you called.  How do you look so rested?”

“Coffee.  I’m normally a tea drinker, but Starbucks has kept me alive today.  And it’s been kind of hectic, so I don’t have time to think about a nap.  Being gone for a week, that paperwork really starts to pile up.”

“I’d get you an assistant, but the company says no.” Tasha said, walking into the room. “Is this him?”

“This is Chris.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Tasha shook his hand. “Kate is very picky about guys, so it’s awesome that she found someone.”

“Picky, huh?” Chris chuckled.

“Extremely.  We’ve gone out a few times for drinks after work and she swats away guys that I thought would be great.”

Kate shrugged. “I’ve never thought my prince charming would stumble up to me reeking of alcohol.”

“See?  Picky.” Tasha laughed and poked Kate in the arm.

“Hey, my pickiness paid off.” Kate wrapped an arm around Chris’ waist and he kissed the top of her head.

“I’ll say.” 

“Did you see your prince charming knocking you down into dog shit?” Chris asked.

Kate laughed. “Not at all.”

Tasha pulled out one of the bowls of fries. “Oh!  They’re still nice and hot.”

“Kate had a hot/cold bag in her trunk.  It really works great.” Chris said, sitting down next to Kate. “I didn’t know which dipping sauce to get, so I got two of everything.”

“The garlic aioli is my favorite.” Kate said.

“Somehow I figured it would be.” He smiled brightly at her and handed over one of the small cups. “This place was such a hole in the wall that I missed it at first.”

“They’re small, but they have some of the best burgers.” “Kate introduced me to it last month.” Tasha said. “She’s not lying about how good the burgers are.”

“I’m looking forward to it.  The place smelled amazing.” Chris’ phone started ringing and he grabbed it. “Oh, I need to take this.”

“You can use my office.” Kate pointed across the hall to her office door.  She watched him leave the room and shut the door behind him.

“He’s sexy.” Tasha said suddenly. “Very well built.”

“Do you even realize who he is?”

“Am I supposed to?”

Kate rolled her eyes as she pulled out her turkey burger. “How do you have a teenage daughter and are so clueless about pop culture?”

“Is he famous or something?”  

“Ask your daughter who Chris Evans is and tell her you met him.  Let me know if she makes it.”

Tasha laughed. “Ok.”

Chris came back into the room. “Sorry about that.” He sat down in his chair again.

“Everything ok?” Kate asked.

“Yeah.  I’m glad they got back to me so fast.”

“Me too!” 

He laughed and shook his head. “Can we eat now?  I’m starving!”

“Yes!” Obviously he wasn’t going to say who it had been on the phone, so Kate decided to move on to another subject.

By the time they’d finished lunch, Tasha was completely smitten with Chris.  She still had no idea that he was famous, but she now knew that he was an actor.  As Kate walked Chris back out to her car, he said, “She’s pretty great.”

“Yeah.  I’m lucky to have such a great boss.”

 “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

“You’re going to love it.  But I can’t give it to you right now.”

“Ok.”

“You’re getting off at…. Four, right?”

“Right.”

“Ok.  So, I will be here promptly at four and you will get your surprise then.”

Kate chuckled at his boyish enthusiasm. “Ok.”

“Don’t be nervous.  You’re going to love it.”

“If you say so.” She reached up and kissed him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.” He pulled her to him and kissed her a little deeper. “I’ll see you at four.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

He kept his word.  Kate walked out to find him leaning against the hood of her car looking like sex on a stick.  She grinned like an idiot and shook her head. “I think I had a dream once that started exactly like this.”

“Yeah?” Chris asked, grinning back at her. “I think I had the same dream.  Only you were on the car like it was a White Snake video.”

“I’m already starring in your dreams, huh?”

“This was before I met you, but I swear, the girl was you.”

“You’re getting sappy on me, Evans.” 

“I’m being serious.”

She reached up and kissed him thoroughly. “Enjoy your surprise!” Tasha called from her car.

Chris and Kate waved at her before getting into Kate’s car with Chris behind the wheel. “So, I don’t have your surprise with me.  I have to take you to it.”

“Ok.” Kate looked down at the outfit she was wearing. “Am I dressed appropriately?”

Chris appraised the black leather ankle boots, black leggings, and dark blue plaid, button up tunic top.  She had the top four buttons undone and a lacy black camisole was peeking out and accenting her breasts.  His eyes lingered there for a long moment. “I think so.”

“Eyes up here, soldier.” Chris laughed, but looked up into her eyes. “Are you going to tell me what the surprise is?”

“Not until we get there.” He put the car in drive and drove out of the lot.  Her GPS was already set to their destination, so without bringing up the address, she had no idea where they were going.  It took them about thirty five minutes to get there with traffic, but she realized where they were before they even pulled into the parking lot.

“This is where I trained before I broke my knee.” She said.

“Is it?” Chris parked the car. “I just looked up ice skating rinks and this one came up.”

“There’s two in Richmond.  The other one is smaller and their figure skating programs aren’t as good as this one.” She smiled brightly.

“The whole place is ours.  Obviously there’s people inside running concessions and stuff, but I rented the place out for the evening.”

“The ice is ours?”

“Yup.”

“How did you do this with so little time?”

“Well, I actually started looking Saturday after we got here.  It was while you were asleep.  I emailed them yesterday and we went back and forth about what I would need and if I was actually who I said I was.  They finally got back to me today with the final answer.  That was the phone call I took at lunch.  I came up here after and signed the contract and paid the money to rent it.”

“Chris….”

“This is for my entertainment, too.  I want to see you skate in person.  And I figured this would be a really good early birthday present.”

“It is a very good early birthday present.  I have to warn you, though, it won’t be as awesome as the videos.  I can’t skate like that anymore.”

“That’s ok.  I just want to see you in your happy place.” He reached behind her and brought her skate bag to the front.  She hadn’t even noticed it in the backseat. “I had them sharpen the blades for you earlier.  I didn’t know if they needed it.  My pair is waiting inside.” He got out and came around to her side, holding the door open for her.  

She followed him inside, holding his hand.  There was a bag with Chris’ skates sitting on a bench with two bottles of water.  They changed into their skates and Kate took a moment to stretch and make sure the skates felt ok on her feet.  He watched her intently, appreciating her body for a long moment.  Even if he hadn’t known her background, he would’ve pegged her for an ex-athlete or dancer.  Though her body was softer now than in the pictures and the home movies, the gracefulness and the flexibility were still evident.  She broke his concentration when she reached into her purse and pulled out an elastic band for her hair and swept it quickly up into a ponytail.  

When the doors opened to the rink, the music playing was a mix of 90s hits.  She laughed and asked him to wait a minute so she could do a couple of practice laps to make sure she was steady.  He ushered her onto the ice and then leaned against the boards to watch her.  She was definitely steady on her feet.  All hints of her klutziness were gone as she glided easily around the ice, executing a turn and skating backwards in front of him.  She was picking up speed as she turned back around and then suddenly stopped, sending up a spray of ice.

“Ok.  I think I’m good.” Kate said, coming back over to him.

“I’d say so.” He wasn’t unfamiliar with ice skates, but he definitely wasn’t as good as she was.  He wobbled some on their first go around and wiped out on their second, but eventually she had him upright and at a good speed.

“Did you choose the music?”

“Yeah.  They’ve got Sirius radio, so I asked them to put it on the 90s channel.” He laughed as he realized she was skating backwards in front of him and wasn’t even looking where she was going. “You’re showing me up.”

“Well, I do have a few more years of training than you.”

“True.  How do you know when to turn before you hit the wall?”

Kate shrugged. “I watch the bend of the boards and the curve of the ice.  It tells me when I’m getting too close.” She turned suddenly and skated a few feet over to the boards and stopped. “I failed at that once.” He joined her and she knelt down, pointing out a deep gouge in the hard plastic that made up the half wall around the ice. “This is where my skate caught and I destroyed my knee.”

“It was at this rink?”

“Yup.  It happened so fast, the pain didn’t hit me right away.  I thought I was fine and then I tried to stand up.  It all hit me at once and I passed out from the pain.  Woke up in an ambulance on the way to the hospital.  Right up until that moment, I knew what I was going to do with my life.  Now I kind of feel like a drifter.  I have all these talents, but I don’t know what to do with them.  I like my job, but it’s boring.”

“You don’t know what you want to do?”

Kate shook her head and began to skate again. “I love to take pictures, but would I love it if it was my job?  The thing I relied on to bring money to my bank account?”

“I think you would.  Yeah, there would be days where you question your decision, but in the end it’s what makes you happy.”

“Is that how you feel about your job?  Do you ever question your decision to become an actor?”

“Sure I do.  There are days when the hours are long and maybe a stunt is extra demanding and I just sit there asking myself ‘what am I doing’…. And I hate red carpets.  Hate.  The crowds, the never ending repetitive questions, the noise…. It’s all too much.  My anxiety kicks in.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“I grit my teeth and get through it as fast as possible.  Sometimes I drink a few beers a little bit beforehand to loosen me up.  It helps to have people I care about with me.  That’s why you see me at those things with my family and some of my friends.” He followed her around the rink, watching her face as she thought about what he’d said. “What about figure skating?”

“What about it?” Kate turned suddenly and was skating at his side, looking up at him.

“Well, couldn’t you coach?  Isn’t that what skaters do when they retire?”

“I don’t have enough experience to be a coach.  I had only been a senior level skater for about two months when I broke my knee.”

“What about teaching kids?  You’re great with them.”

She laughed. “I could maybe do that part time, but it wouldn’t pay the bills.”

“Maybe you’re too concerned with paying the bills.”

“Who’s going to pay them for me?  My parents?  I’m almost thirty years old.” She shook her head and stopped suddenly.  It took him a moment to turn around and get back to her. “So, I have this thing about control.  Controlling my emotions, controlling my surroundings to the best of my abilities, controlling the situations I find myself in…. I learned to walk on eggshells from an early age.  I’ve been an unwilling party to out of control for a large chunk of my life…. I refuse to be a willing party to it.  Paying my bills on time and saving money and knowing that I’ll be ok if anything bad happens…. That’s important to me.”

He nodded and took her hands. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t.  I just needed you to know that.”

He gently took her face in his hands and leaned down to kiss her deeply. “Kate, as long as you’re with me, I promise that nothing bad will happen.  Don’t hesitate to ask me for help, ok?  Any help.”

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Thank you.” 

“Ok,” He released her and moved back slightly. “I want to see you do some cool shit out here.”

“I don’t know how much cool shit I can still do.  I might bust my ass.”

“Then we’ll be even.” He gave her a bone melting grin and she couldn’t help but smile back.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

“I’m going to gain so much weight being with you.” Chris joked.

“Well, we had a good workout.” Kate said.

“You had a good workout.”

“And my knee is still complaining.  Glad I had my brace in the car.”

“This is incredible.” He took another bite of the pasta he’d ordered and closed his eyes in bliss.  They were at this little hole in the wall place called Edo’s Squid.  The entrance was a door on the side of a building that led up some stairs to what used to be a second floor apartment that had been converted. “How does someone even find this place?”

“Yelp.  I searched for the top restaurants and decided to try them all.”

“Any of them let downs?”

“Not yet.” Kate’s cell phone started ringing and she sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok.  Take it if you need to.”

“It’s my friend Dalia.” She hit the green answer button. “Hey lady.  What’s up?  Oh, uh…. I don’t know.  I mean…. I could, but I need to check with someone.  Can you hold on a sec?” Kate moved the phone away from her ear and hit the mute button.

“What’s up?” Chris asked, curious.

“Dalia had a drop out in her show Friday night.  She wants Kitty Monroe to fill in for the two numbers.”

His face lit up. “I get to see you do burlesque?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “If I say yes.”

“Please say yes!  Please!”

Kate let out another sigh and shook her head, taking the phone off mute and putting it back to her ear. “Ok.  I’ll send you the music later tonight.  Do you have any requests?  Ok.  You’re welcome.  I’ve got a plus one coming, is that ok?  Great.  I will see you Friday night.” She hung up and shook her head at Chris. “Oh my god.” Her hands moved up to cover her face and she groaned into them while Chris laughed. “You are way too giddy about this.”

“Because I get to see my girl on stage!” She looked up at his grinning face.  He really was excited about it. “Don’t be nervous.”

She moved her hands from her face. “Hard not to be.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s you!  I have to perform in front of you!”

“Why is it me that makes you nervous and not perfect strangers who haven’t seen you naked?”

“Chris, I look up to you.  You’re a great actor.  I didn’t ever just like you for your looks or the fact that you’re Captain America.  I respect your talent.  I admire your ability to immerse yourself in a character.  I’m in awe of your ability to make your characters come to life and be believable.  I can see you winning Oscars someday.  You would be winning them now if the Academy wasn’t so anti-superhero movie because Cap can be such a boring character, but you give him layers and he’s not just this goody-two-shoes.  You make it believable that he does actually have a dark side.  And don’t get me started on how great I thought you were in ‘Puncture’ and ‘Sunshine’.  They’re highly underrated movies.”

“Wow.” Chris placed a hand over his heart, genuinely overwhelmed with gratitude. “Thank you.”  

“You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t be nervous having to act in front of actors like Daniel Day-Lewis or Meryl Streep who I know you think of in the same way I think of you.”

“Well, yeah, I would be.  They’re some of the greats.”

“That’s where I’m coming from.  You don’t expect someone you’re a fan of to suddenly be in the audience watching your every move and judging your performance.”

“I’m not going to judge you, baby.  I’m going to be watching and enjoying the show and secretly thinking of all the things I want to do to whatever body part you’re in the middle of revealing when I get you home.”

Kate’s face flushed bright pink. “Chris….”

He reached across the table and took her hand. “Kat, I won’t be judging you, I promise.  I’ll be ten thousand percent supportive.  I’ll be the loudest in the room.  I might bring you flowers.  I’ll definitely give you a standing ovation.  Can I invite Scott to come down for the show?”

She sighed, laughing slightly to herself, and eyed him warily for a long moment. “I guess.  You’ll need someone to keep you company while I’m getting ready for the show, anyway.  Fuck I wanna throw up now.” She glared at her pasta. “I can’t finish this.”

“So we’ll get it to go.” He motioned to the waitress and asked her to bring them a couple of boxes. “Do you want to go home or is there something you’d like to do while we’re up this way?”

“Uh, I can’t think of anything to do this late in the evening.” She shrugged. “I’m not a big night life person.”

“Me either.”

“Says the guy who’s invited to all the parties.”

He chuckled. “You don’t see me out much when I’m not promoting something.  I like to be at home with my friends and family.”

“Me too.” 

The waitress came and boxed up their dinners.  Kate paid the check and they headed out to her car.  Richmond is a college city and they were in the middle of everything.  Young adults bustled by, not paying much attention to anything but their cell phones.  All the bars and little restaurants were packed with people enjoying themselves.

“Did you go to college here?” Chris asked, slipping his hand into hers.

“No.  I went to William and Mary.”

“Isn’t that a tough school?”

“Yup.  There’s this pathway on campus that has the graduation percentage of each class.  It’s kind of depressing because most of them suck.”

“Wow.  That’s one hell of a mind fuck!  Right off the bat they’re like, ‘you’re pretty much fucked, but good luck anyway!’”

Kate laughed. “Yeah.  They purposely get down on the freshman and make it harder on them.  I read somewhere that freshman suicide is the highest on that campus.  As someone who went there straight out of high school, those first two years were insanely hard.  I almost quit a few times.  I definitely spent a lot of time in my dorm sobbing my eyes out because it was too much.”

“Were your grades good?”

“Yeah.  Well, in everything but math related stuff they were.  Numbers and I don’t get along very well.” She looked around. “A lot of my friends went to this school.  Some of them started out at Richard Bland for the first two years and then transferred here or to William and Mary.  It was interesting making all those new friends at college and then my old friends suddenly showed up.  It was weird.”

“Bad weird?”

“Um…. Sometimes.”

“Did you have that college experience with the drinking and the parties?”

She laughed. “A little.  It just wasn’t for me, though.  I hung around the theatre geeks and stayed in most of the time.” Her face turned a lovely shade of pink. “I watched a lot of your movies in college.”

“Did you really?”

“Yes.  I was in the middle of one of those sob fests when I saw you in ‘Cellular.’  It made me stop crying and from that moment I was hooked on Chris Evans.  I bought your movies as soon as I found them on DVD.”

He laughed and shook his head. “That’s embarrassing.  Those early movies were so….”

“Early 2000s.” She finished for him. “I still liked them.  There was just something about you….”

Chris turned her to face him and leaned down to kiss her suddenly.  She melted into him and wrapped her arms around his waist.  They reluctantly broke apart when people around them started whistling, clapping, and catcalling.

“Come on,” He said, pulling her towards the car. “I need to get you home.”

She laughed. “It’s not that late, Chris.”

“I’m not talking for sleep.”

“Oh.”

The ride back to her house was probably the quickest it had ever been.  The air in the car was thick with their sexual tension and they had only allowed themselves to touch hands.  As soon as the car was in park, both of them had their doors open and were meeting in front of the car.  Chris lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as they kissed.  He fumbled with the keys for a long moment, pressing her against the door, before finally getting it unlocked.

They tumbled inside and he kicked the door shut behind him.  Clothes started flying as they made their way towards the bed.  Unfortunately, Kate’s klutziness showed up and she tripped over her leggings, falling backwards onto her backside.  It barely fazed Chris, he just followed her to the floor, yanking the offending leggings off and pressing his now bare chest to hers.  He grabbed her wrists and held them above her as he kissed her fiercely.

With his free hand, he pushed her underwear aside and got his boxer briefs out of the way before pushing into her.  She let out a squeak into his mouth, but then began to moan as he rocked in and out of her.  Her legs wrapped around his thighs and urged him on.  At some point in all the grunting and sweating, he realized they were on the floor.  He released her wrists and got to his feet.  She let out a groan of protest, but he pulled her to her feet and led her over to the bed.

Kate had different ideas, though, and pushed him away.  He watched as she turned around and bent over the edge of the bed, taking her underwear off before sliding her arms up the comforter.  He groaned at the sight as she looked back at him enticingly.  Without a moment’s hesitation, he moved forward, took his underwear off, and slid into her from behind.  She had to move up on tiptoe for him to get the best angle, but once they found their rhythm, she found herself quickly falling over the edge.  A few moments later, Chris followed her.  They both stayed still for a long time, panting and trying to bring their heart rates down.

“Nope.” Chris said suddenly.

“Nope?” Kate asked.

“I’m not even close to done with you.” He lifted her up and laid her on the bed, moving between her legs.  His head dipped between her thighs and he began licking, biting, and sucking her still swollen nub.  She arched up, hands clutching at the comforter around her.  Incoherent mumbles spilled from her lips and then a growl escaped as he slid two fingers inside her, hooking them upwards.

He teased her and sent her over the edge two more times before he was ready for more himself.  As she recovered from her fourth orgasm, he slid into her again.  At this point, she was nothing but raw nerve endings.  Every sensation was almost too much.  He brought her legs up against his chest and leaned forward, penetrating deeper.  It wasn’t long before they were both climaxing again.

When she discovered English again, Kate looked over at Chris. “You’re probably going to be the death of me.”

“Yeah?” Chris asked, breathing heavily. “Ditto.”

She chuckled. “At least we’ll die happy.”

Eventually they cleaned themselves up and moved under the covers.  Chris pulled her back against his chest and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.  The moonlight filtered in through the window and he watched it gleam off her hair.  Her chest rose and fell, becoming more even as she drifted off to sleep.  His hand found hers and he wove his fingers with hers as he placed it against her heart. “Kat, you are seriously the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

Tag List

@joannaliceevans-fanficblog @jamielea81 @southerngracela @kelbabyblue @introvertedmouse @tfandtws @sullyosully @deidrahouseofpain @lovinevans @ajosieface

[this-is-a-love-story-fleabag]

Lunchtime in Hell

Fleabag and the Priest go for lunch at Dad's place. 1841 words. Also on ao3.

"Gosh, is that a bikini?" said my godmother. "Aren't you brave."

Aw.

Her capacity for saying something that sounds like a compliment but is actually spectacularly cruel will never cease to amaze me. All of the words individually are perfectly polite, but when you put them together you create a masterpiece in passive aggression.

Sometimes it takes me a couple of hours to work out that's she's insulted me. She should teach a class.

Not quite knowing how to respond, I looked at the priest, and tried not to pout.

He gave a sympathetic grimace and finished his mouthful of wine. "Not as brave as explaining erotic artwork to teenagers, I bet."

She looked devastated. Brilliant.

We were two streets away from Dad's place when I started having second thoughts.

"We could just say I had another miscarriage."

The priest stopped short. To his credit, he didn't sigh as loudly as I knew he wanted to. "The parable of the boy who cried wolf might-"

"Yeah, OK, I guess I can't do that one again." I thought for a moment. "We could say I broke my leg!"

He closed his eyes and pressed hard on the bridge of his nose. "No."

"No, you're right, too easily falsifiable. Maybe I could actually break my leg. Find a heavy log or something."

"A log."

"Yeah."

"In the middle of Kensington."

Balls. "You're no help at all."

"It's not going to be that bad."

I decided not to dignify that with a response, and started back on my grim march. Slouching towards Bedlam.

We reached the front door and he rang the doorbell, before he noticed that I was edging backwards off the step and onto the garden path.

"Oh, no, no, don't you run off," he said, grabbing my hand.

"Aren't you supposed to save people from Hell?"

He gave me a fond look and a kiss on the forehead in response. He looked unreasonably gorgeous in the blue jumper with the good sleeves, and I, as usual, was dressed like a teenage girl who'd just finished her A-levels and wanted to act grown-up.

I am under no illusions about my fashion sense.

Ominous footsteps approached the door. "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here," I murmured. He grinned. Handsome bastard.

My godmother opened the door with a theatrical flourish, wearing the kind of elaborate silk gown that a thrice-divorced heiress might throw on to be told by the police that her wealthy husband had died in a mysterious accident.

It suited her, the bitch.

"Darling!" she crowed, rushing out to give air kisses to our cheeks. Her hand lingered for slightly too long on my priest's bicep.

"Your father's just in the kitchen, why don't you go and help him?" she asked in her typically imperious manner, hustling us inside and closing the door. "Father, come and sit down for a glass of wine."

He gave me a terrified look as he was ushered into the pristine front parlour, but if he wanted to be rescued he should have agreed to the running away plan earlier.

I found Dad with his head in the oven, frantically basting a roast chicken.

"Alright, Dad?"

He started, and narrowly avoided banging his head on the top of the oven. "Oh, hello dear. I was just, er, with the, yes. How are you?"

"I'm fine." I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "How's the cooking?"

"Oh yes, fine. I could use your help, actually. The little pastries need to go onto the serving, er, thing."

When we returned to the front room, my godmother was practically sitting on the priest's lap, and he was visibly sweating. He stood up as soon as we entered the room, emanating relief.

"Let me help you with that tray," he entreated.

I passed it over with a raised eyebrow, and he made an unnecessarily complicated show of placing it on the table, moving to a different chair in the process. Very smooth.

"I was just telling Father here about my new philanthropic project," the satin-clad tentacle beast cooed.

"Yes, it's really very, you see she's-" started Dad.

"Thank you darling, yes, it's very important work, you see." She had one clasped to her chest and her eyes closed in an expression of great vehemence. "I'm taking the sexhibition to the local schools to show to the children." She opened her eyes and gazed at them beatifically. "It's just so important to me that underprivileged young people have the chance to really appreciate my work."

Wow.

The priest gave me another pleading look.

"That's very selfless of you," I managed to choke out, a hysterical giggle rising in my throat.

She tilted her head to one side, looking as though she was proud of me for understanding the magnitude of her sacrifice. "I know."

She continued her self-centred monologue as we sat down at the dining table in front of heaping plates of roast dinner. There was a brief lull as everyone tucked in.

"So dad, how have you been?" I asked through a mouthful of carrots.

"I-"

"He's taken up gardening, haven't you, darling?"

"Yes, I-"

"Terribly good at it, his raspberry canes are just fantastic this year."

Dad, bless him, just babbled nonsense for a moment until he gave up.

"It's a very spiritual act, gardening. Don't you agree, Father?" She was touching his bicep again, which was clearly making him very uncomfortable, but the position was making her trail her sleeve in the gravy, so it wasn't all bad news.

"Yes, it can be very meditative," he said, using his Priest Voice. "The act of nurturing life that way is quite beautiful."

He has one plant, a cactus in a flowerpot on his windowsill. It's dead.

"Now you simply must show me the photographs from Turkey."

Clearly angling to see pictures of the priest in his swimming trunks. Joke's on her, he spent the whole time slathered in sun lotion, hiding under a t-shirt and an oversized hat. That man does not tan well.

He brought up the photos on his phone, selfies the two of us outside the Hagia Sophia, one at a restaurant, one of me holding a plate of kebab meat as big as my head, one of him eating a piece of baklava in the least dignified way possible, and the jackpot, one of the two of us on the beach. He was wearing at least three layers of clothing (and still somehow managed to get sunburnt), and I looked fucking great, tanned and skinny in my swimming costume.

"Gosh, is that a bikini?" said my godmother. "Aren't you brave."

Aw.

Her capacity for saying something that sounds like a compliment but is actually spectacularly cruel will never cease to amaze me. All of the words individually are perfectly polite, but when you put them together you create a masterpiece in passive aggression.

Sometimes it takes me a couple of hours to work out that's she's insulted me. She should teach a class.

Not quite knowing how to respond, I looked at the priest, and tried not to pout.

He gave a sympathetic grimace and finished his mouthful of wine. "Not as brave as explaining erotic artwork to teenagers, I bet."

She looked devastated. Brilliant.

"Your sister's doing very well," said Dad, changing the subject. "You really should try asking her about your little café."

"Hey," I said, keen to cement my place as Best Daughter. "Claire has to live in Finland. I'm the successful one now."

"And so modest, too."

My godmother reached over to cup my face with one soft hand, leaving a trail of gravy on the tablecloth. "Well, you're got a lot to be modest about, don't you, darling."

"Thanks." I think?

"Weren't you going to expand your premises?" Dad pushes on. "She could help with your, er, your business, er, plan..." He waved a vague hand. "...thing."

The shop next to me is up for sale so I'm going to put an offer down and get a little more space, but I need to take out another business loan. It's fine, Claire's all over it.

"She's already helping me. I mentioned it to her and there was no stopping her after that."

Dad chuckled and topped up my glass. "Is there ever?"

I took a sip. "As long as she doesn't start suggesting some kind of Finnish-inspired pickled fish menu I'm all for it."

"Surely they don't actually eat that in Finland," interjected the priest.

"You think they're just trying to trick the tourists?"

"Must be, yeah."

"That way they can keep all the delicious reindeer meat to themselves."

"Bastards." He smiled at me and squeezed my knee under the table.

My godmother refused to allow us our peaceful moment of reindeer-nonsense, and broke in with her own opinions on the topic. "You know, I think the Scandinavians have a real appreciation for more unusual tastes. They're a very experimental people."

I raised an eyebrow.

"When we took the sexhibition to Sweden it was very well received."

There we go.

Several excruciating hours later, when I'd fully satisfied myself that my dad was alive and well, and meted out the appropriate amount of politeness to his wife to keep things smoothed over, I excused myself for a quick and restorative fag on the front porch. It didn't take long for Dad to join me. I handed him a cigarette and we smoked together in companionable silence. We have an understanding these days, a relationship lived through these quiet moments away from everything.

On my return inside, I could hear my godmother's strident tones through the wall. "Gosh, you are a saint to put up with her."

"What exactly do you mean by that?" said my priest slowly in his most dangerous tone, dripping with polite menace. Cold enough to give you frostbite.

I felt very loved.

"She's just a bit-"

She cut off her sentence abruptly when she noticed me standing behind her but didn't have the self-awareness necessary to look ashamed of herself. He was staring daggers at her, but stood when he saw me and came over to wrap me protectively in his arms.

"I'd really like to be heading off," he murmured, making an affectionate and rather pointed show of giving me a kiss.

"Would you look at the time?" I said theatrically to the room at large. "We'd better be going, we've got that thing."

"Fuck, yes, the thing. Very important thing." We're a flawless double-act.

With some stuttered pleasantries from dad and more air kisses from his wife, the ordeal was finally over. We walked down the road for ten minutes in meditative and rather shocked silence, enjoying the fresh air and taking the opportunity to process our trauma.

"Fuck," he said eventually, succinct as always.

"Quite."

"I mean, I've revised my stance in recent months on the merits of repressing your sexuality, but maybe it would be good if she could fucking repress hers a little more."

"There's definitely a middle ground between total celibacy and being a raging sex-dragon."

"I like to think I've struck the balance quite well."

"Was happy to help with that, by the way."

He drew his arm around me and I leaned my head on his chest. "I'd say you've been fucking instrumental."

"I really want to just go to a canyon somewhere and scream the word 'cunt' into the void for like an hour."

"Is there a canyon near here?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I might just have to scream into a pillow."

He stopped and drew me closer, stroking my head and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I think we can arrange that," he murmured.

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

She’s Not Afraid (Girls Talk Boys part 21)

She's not afraid of all the attention She's not afraid of running wild How come she's so afraid of falling in love She's not afraid of scary movies She likes the way we kiss in the dark But she's so afraid of f-f-falling in love 

A/N I’m afraid to post links on these now, but you can always message me. I’m still trying to figure out how to do a masterlist

“I can't believe Camille is making us do the shopping” Cher grumbled as they pulled up to the store.

“You lot are the ones making her cook on one of her busiest weeks of the year, whatever that means.”Ashton came around to open her car door for her. That was something Cher didn't know guys did in real life.

Ashton grabbed a cart and Cher pulled up the shopping list Camille made on her phone.

“She really could've ordered this online.” Cher was still pouting.

“I'm pretty sure she just wanted to get everyone out of her hair.” Ashton chuckled. “She even chased Cal away so she could work.”

Cher huffed pouting until Ashton came up beside her. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before murmuring in her ear.

“If you're a good girl today I just might reward you”

Cher felt her irritation vanish and she brightened up anticipating what kind of game Ashton might have in mind.

“Ok let me see the list.” Ashton took charge. “Potatoes, carrots, onions, and celery”

“Celery?” Cher made a face. “So gross”

“How can you hate celery” Ashton was amused.

“Celery is evil.” Cher put the veggies in the green cloth bag. “Any other produce or are we done with this one?”

“Yeah a bag of cranberries, two oranges, a lemon, 2 limes, and 3 green apples. What's with the different color bags?” Ashton was a bit puzzled.

“They're reusable so yay there's that.” Cher gathered up what she needed. “They are color coded so we know what department we need and where it goes in the kitchen. Green for produce, white for dairy, brown for deli meats. See these are insulated so everything stays cold. I can tell you we can skip the meat department because I don't have the yellow or red bag.” Cher checked the bag that held the bags.

“Did Camille come up with this?” Ashton asked clearly amused.

“She came up with the color system because she's paranoid about cross contamination. If you ever get that bitch started on e coli I will walk straight out of the room and leave you to your lecture. Once you get used to it it's really efficient.” Cher shrugged. “Ok baking stuff.”

She headed down the aisle.She grabbed the usual, flour, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and then a can each of condensed and evaporated milk.

“What's that for?” Ashton peeked in the bag.

“She's making a tres leches cake” Cher told him. “Ok it says oil but she isn't specific so I'm gonna get what's on sale. I never knew there were so many kinds. Coconut oil, peanut oil, sesame oil, almond oil. Wait isn't they what they used for our massage that day?”

“Let me see” Ashton stepped up behind her grabbing her hand with his as he pulled the bottle closer. For just a second he pressed his body into hers. It happened so fast she thought she imagined it except for the shiver that shot down her spine.

“Mmm maybe don't remember” Cher jumped at how close his voice rumbled next to her ear, but when she turned around he'd backed off and was studying the shopping list.

Cher frowned, perplexed but decided to keep moving. Ashton didn't stop. He kept touching her in little ways. His hand pressed just below the small of her back as he reached past her for the green beans. Little traces from his fingertips along her arms and wrists when he took the shopping list from her. “So what was your thanksgiving like as a kid? I know Cam has the big crazy family, but you don't talk about yours.” Ashton asked trying to make sure he didn't get sugar free Jello.

“Mom usually didn't cook. She did one time when we were teenagers and forgot to tell us. We didn't show up and she hasn't let us live it down yet.” Cher told him.

“You only have one brother right? Camille has two?” Ashton couldn't quite remember

Cher nodded. “A couple of times when we were in foster care we'd go down to the City Rec center and they'd have a big meal for all the kids in the programs. The food was actually decent and we always got a little present.”

She dropped a bag of pecans she was looking at. Ashton practically dove to pick them up the back of his hand brushing against her bare calf.

“What was that” Cher jumped at the touch.

“You dropped the nuts. You gotta be more careful with those” Ashton responded off offhandedly with the tiniest smirk.

“Mmm hmmm” Cher hummed her mind wandering.

“Are we getting a turkey?” Ashton motioned to the crowd forming around the employee bringing out boxes of birds.

“Nah, she ordered prime rib and a turkey breast from a butchers shop. I think she sent Calum to get that.”

“How do you like your new roommate” Ashton teased her.

“He's not over at our house that much really. They've almost got a schedule. Sunday night he comes over for football but doesn't stay the night because Camille works her ass off on Mondays. Tuesday is their day together usually at his place. Friday is date night. He bought me some kick ass noise canceling headphones so we're all good.” Cher shrugged.

She stopped abruptly when she saw a display for green bean casserole. Ashton, trailing behind, ran right into her. As he stumbled, catching himself by grabbing her arms, Cher felt the faintest touch of his lips against her shoulder. Or did she? It was maddening.

They finished shopping and loaded up the car. Cher was hoping Ashton might give her a hint at her reward. Instead he just turned the radio on and drummed his fingers on her knee along to the beat.

Getting back to the house Ashton had to admit the bag system helped in putting the groceries away. He also enjoyed that the kitchen was confined enough that he could “bump” into Cher several times while bending or reaching to get in the cabinets. It was killing him not to grin when he heard her little gasps when he touched her or saw the little glances she threw his way. He wanted so badly to pull her to the floor and take her right there in the kitchen.

He had to be patient. He had to keep her wanting. That was the only way to get what he wanted.

They'd just finished with the groceries when Harry knocked on the door. Cher was surprised to see him, normally he didn't get involved in the work side of the parties they threw. He'd volunteered to get the baked goods because he wanted Cornish pastries and sticky toffee pudding. Camille had agreed if he bought them she'd heat them up and make the sauce. She'd also gotten him to pick up a bag of yeast dough so she could make rolls.

It wasn't until Calum showed up with the butchers bags about 15 minutes later that Camille came downstairs. Cher was always amused when Camille came down from filming looking Hollywood from the tits up and couch potato from the waist down. Cher tossed her a bottle of cold water which she caught and chugged while making her way to Calum at the refrigerator. Camille gave Calum a kiss before greeting the other men.

“Harry thank you for getting this dough for me. I'm gonna make the sauce tomorrow just when these are heating up” Camille smiled at Harry.

“I hope you like the Cornish pastries” Harry grinned at her. “They're not easy to get out here.”

“I'm sure I will.” Camille peeked in the bag. “Ooh you got a chocolate cream pie. Cody is gonna love that.”

Ashton handed Camille a glass of wine.

“Thank you sweetie.” Camille turned to where he was standing next to Cher. “Ashton, thank you, seriously you're the only one I can trust with this.” Camille raised her glass before downing it.

“Guys seriously I have like five more videos to do and then I'm done for tonight. There are three games tomorrow and I have to do player forecasts as well as match up reviews. If y'all could peel and soak the potatoes and brine the turkey breast that would be awesome. I'm gonna finish filming. Give me about an hour and I'll be back.” Camille held her glass out for a refill before heading upstairs. Harry said his goodbyes and Calum followed Camille leaving Ashton and Cher in the kitchen alone again.

“You look really cute right now” Ashton smirked at Cher. He kissed her on her forehead “ok let's peel some potatoes.

Camille was touching up her makeup when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.  Calum entered and hovered by the edge of her bed.

“What's up sexy man” Camille met his eyes in the mirror.

Calum hesitated and Camille saw the frown on his face. She stopped and turned around. “What is it? What's wrong?”

“Well it's just, why did you say Ashton was the only one you trusted with this? You know you can trust me right?” Calum peeked up at her.

“Babe,” Camille stopped what she was doing “Did you want me to put you in charge of helping me plan thanksgiving?”

Calum shook his head.

“Ok so you didn't want to do it. I knew you didn't want to do it. You knew I knew you didn't want me to ask you to do it. If I asked you to do it you probably would've asked Ashton you help you right?” Camille raised her eyebrows and Calum nodded.

“Ashton and I have worked together before putting together parties and we're already talking about what we're gonna do for your birthday. So why don't you tell me what is really bothering you.”

Calum sighed and ran his fingers through his curls. He looked at her with those big brown eyes “it still bothers me that you're close to Ashton.”

“Come here” Camille told him and he crossed the room. “Ashton and I are friends. I'm dating his best friend and he's flirting with mine. You need to get past whatever this is.”

“Have you ever thought about fucking Ashton” Calum blurted out before biting his lip as if that could take it back.

“Of course” Camille shrugged “Luke too if I'm honest.”

“Luke? Seriously?” Calum's jaw dropped.

“I saw him run through the house naked and I've listened to him fuck so yeah Luke too. It was a moment. Both of them. I haven't tried anything. I haven't fantasized about them. I'm going to continue to be friends with your friends. That means Ashton.” Camille reached for the drawstring of his sweatpants.

“What are you doing” Calum's voice dropped lower.

“I think my jealous boy needs some attention so he knows he's the only one I want” Camille hesitated before sucking him off. “Just try to be quiet, please and don't touch my hair”

Thanksgiving day Camille had chased everyone out of the kitchen and had her music blasting. Cher and Calum were only allowed in for brief visits. Ashton had the prime rib in his oven. Luke had the turkey and Camille was baking. She'd made the cranberry orange relish the previous evening while punching down and measuring off her dough for the rolls.

Camille had taken a break to do a live interview on the day's games. Finally with work and the food finished and everyone slightly buzzed they could sit down too eat. Camille sat at one end of the long “table” they'd managed to cobble together. Calum sat to her right. Beside him was Mikey, Crystal, Nick and Cody. Harry occupied the other end with Luke, Cher, Ashton, Tom and Lucy sat in order.

Lucy asked if she could say grace and then during the meal she suggested they go around the table and say what each one of them were thankful for.

Lucy stood up the pre dinner wine making her sway just a bit. “I'm thankful to have such good friends and my sweet baboo Tom”

Tom was next “I'm thankful for my career, my friends and my lovely Lulu.”

Then Ashton “I'm thankful we have new music coming out and that you girls showed up to make the place interesting again.”

Cher stood up “I'm not good at stuff like this. Ok let me think. I'm thankful for my Cody I'm so glad I'm out here with you. Vexxed is taking off and I'm friends with all of you which is crazy.  I've only been here since August but I never want to leave. Thank you Camille for dragging me out here.”

Luke was next “I'm thankful for my band, my Petunia and all the wonderful people I've met this year.”

Harry kept it short. “I'm thankful for finding decent Cornish pastries.”

Cody was more animated “I'm so glad you bitches moved out here. Y'all are killing it.”

Nick mumbled out “My career, um my boyfriend

It's been a good year.”

Crystal got choked up when talking about the past year but she managed. “Michael, for being my rock, my sweetheart, my everything.”

Michael followed that with talking about the adorable kittens they were fostering. “My band is fucking awesome, I have the best girlfriend I'm thankful to just be me right now”

Calum stood up leaned over and kissed the top of Camille's head. He looked at everyone and simply said “Her” before sitting back down.

Everyone looked at Camille. She stood up her knees weak. She didn't dare look at Calum. Releasing a shaky breath she found her voice. “When we moved here I never could've imagined all of this. I can't believe this is my life.” She looked at Calum “I can't believe any of this is real. This isn't supposed to happen to girls like me. If this is a dream y'all better let me sleep because I will hurt the person who wakes me up” She was interrupted by the alarm on her phone.

“Oh shit that's the rolls be right back” Camille ran into the kitchen.

After dinner and dessert most everyone hung out to watch football, have a few drinks and digest. Camille was yelling at the tv. Tom, Lucy and Calum were laughing at Camille. Luke had taken off to meet up with Summer who'd spent the day with her family. Harry, Mikey and Crystal were upstairs in the studio with guitars and gars. Cher wandered out back to find Ashton sitting by himself. She passed the blunt to him watching his fingers and lips as he held it and inhaled. His wrist wrapped around hers and he pulled her into his lap.

“What are you doing?” Che giggled with a sense of deja vu. Isn't this how it started with Luke?

“Giving you your reward kitten” Ashton whispered in her ear. His fingers gripped her hips. This definitely was NOT Luke. Luke had been giggly and shy. Ashton was smooth and very sure of himself.

“Straddle my leg doll, I want you to ride me “ It wasn't a request.

Cher hesitated looking back towards the kitchen.

“Do it now, before I change my mind.” Ashton dug his fingers in.

Cher adjusted herself as Ashton reached up under her skirt. His thumb brushed against her clit making her moan. He positioned her so that as he moved her hips back and forth she could feel her nerves brush against the bunched up fabric of her dress as he jiggled his leg. Cher whimpered and leaned her head on his shoulder. She could feel her orgasm start to build as she rocked back and forth.

“That's it kitten, you look so hot right now.  Make yourself cum for me.” Ashton kissed her neck making a moan escape her lips. “If you're not quiet I'll stop.”

Cher bit her lip and closed her eyes losing herself in the feeling.

Ashton pinched her thigh. “Eyes on me doll. I want you to look at me.”

Her brown eyes met his hazel ones filled with lust and amusement.

Ashton gripped her harder increasing the speed of her movements. He could tell she was getting close.

“That's it, let go baby. I wanna see you cum for me.” Ashton growled.

Cher felt herself tipping over the edge. Ashton watched her face as she climaxed trying not to cum himself.

He held her while she rode it out and then as she

came back to earth.

“Damn Ashton” Cher sighed when she could speak again.

“I told you kitten. It's daddy not Ashton, or next time I won't let you finish”

@biba3434 @vfdsstuff @babygirlcashton @toofadedtofight @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @slimthicccal

[fangirlbase]

The Howl of the Moon - Remus Lupin

Summary:

After a terrible accident in the battle at the Ministry in 1995, Hermione Granger wins a one-way ticket to the past. Unable to go back to his time, his only chance for survival is to adapt to the late 70s and get on with his life, interfering as little as possible so that the future does not fall apart.

However, everything goes downhill when Remus John Lupine starts to notice too much the new girl who clearly wanted to go unnoticed by Hogwarts.

Chapters: Prolog | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

Warnings: mature

                                           2.The one with the haircut

The December twenty-first had finally arrived, and as most of the castle boarded the carriages for the express, Hermione finished packing her bag with what few belongings she had. Minerva had informed the previous day that they would not spend the holiday at the castle that year.

- Finally I have someone to take to my sister-in-law's party, I won't miss this chance for anything!

It had been the excuse the teacher had given when Hermione said she didn't want to bother, but she suspected that all that teacher's insistence had more to do with her getting used to her now tutor's house and mainly to get out of the environment a little bit. of familiar was not that of her memories, her friends wouldn't be there to celebrate the holidays with her… They hadn't even been born yet.

Although the express left at 11am from Hogsmeade, they didn't go home until around 5pm. As a householder, Minerva had to extend her hours, accommodating the few Gryffindor students who had stayed that holiday, finishing correcting some jobs before summoning Hermione to her office to leave.

Though they hadn't left the castle, the older Witch had noticed the sad way the student had watched her housemates leaving through the school gates - the same sad way she'd been looking at the common room at that moment. She knew she couldn't ask questions about the future, but the intensity in the teenager's gaze told her that she had left much-loved companions in the future.

- Let's go dear? - Minerva spoke calmly, wanting to dispel the sadness that had taken over the girl.

Hermione just confirmed, taking her small suitcase as she would leave her trunk and most of her materials and belongings in the dormitory, so she followed the tutor to her office, entering the fireplace and feeling the heat take over her body while the teacher holding her a strong hand threw the flu powder and the emerald green flames surrounded them. Holding a sneeze, the teenager cleaned herself and left the dark environment, gasping when she noticed the room they were in: there were no walls, just bookcases and more bookcases! A coffee table was surrounded by two sofas and an armchair that, despite being slightly dusty, could be cleaned in a matter of seconds with the correct spell.

- I knew you'd like it. - Minerva decreed with a little smile on her face. - Your room is upstairs, third door on the left. Then I'll introduce you to the rest of the house, it's modest but comfortable. I hope you are happy here.

The young woman nodded, still a little embarrassed to be in the house of the teacher she most admired at school, and thus holding her curiosity to explore the titles that Minerva had in her personal collection, she went in the direction that the tutor indicated. The room really wasn't very big, but it wasn't small either, in the girl's opinion it was the ideal size for her to feel good. As she had brought few things, not even bothering to empty her suitcase, but she knew that the reluctance was more in the fact that she didn't want to be there, even with all the hospitality of the teacher, the idea of spending Christmas away from her family and friend was disheartening.

Hermione overcame the anguish of never knowing how the battle in the ministry ended after the first few months she woke up at that time, but at times like this she couldn't help wondering: How were Harry and Ron? If they Neville, Luna and Gina were safe celebrating Christmas at the Burrow… "Stop!" He scolded himself, after all, it's no use getting caught up in questions that she would never have answers to. She was a practical witch and knew she had no talent for guessing the future.

Minerva gave a little tour of the house showing Hermione where were all the things she would need and said she was free to read whatever she wanted in the library, so the teacher left the youngest alone to explore the new environment until the time of dinner, when he revealed that the next day the two would go shopping - that even after the teenager's several refusals, she did not listen. As her tutor, she needed to provide the best for her, meaning clothes and a proper life. And besides that, the teacher needed to finish her Christmas shopping, after all she still needed some presents for her nephews.

Even uncomfortable, Hermione couldn't have been more grateful for the witch's zeal. Even though she had to carry countless bags the next afternoon, she couldn't hold back her tears as she confessed that Minerva had always been her favorite teacher - getting a pinch and a comforting hug in return.

However, it was during Christmas dinner that Hermione revealed to her tutor her true intentions for the year. The two were sitting at a long table in the rectory in the Caithness suburb that had been the late Reverend Presbyterian Robert McGonagall and his wife Isobel, Minerva's country and his two younger brothers Malcom and Robert Junior. With the death of their father, Malcon and his wife Brenda - a Hufflepuff witch - who was pregnant with their second child and the couple's little eldest Isla came to live with Isobel who, finally being surrounded by magic, found herself completely happy.

- But your hair, dear? - Questioned Minerva.

- Women usually cut their hair after important decisions in their life, right? It wasn't just a milestone that I came back here, but if I need to camouflage myself, I need to change my look. I've always been known for the size of my teeth and voluminous hair, I can't let them recognize me until the moment of disappearance.

- But your teeth aren't big! My friend Timothy's they are, but Mom said I can't say they look like a rabbit because that will make him sad and then he won't want to play Quidditch with me anymore. - Commented the little Max, nickname of Maxwell son of Robert Junior and of the wife Aileen who tried uselessly to wipe the son's chubby cheeks that were smeared with the turkey sauce with a napkin.

- I've fixed this before. Hermione smiled. - But my hair is a problem. There are people in that dangerous school, who unfortunately knew me….

- You don't need to say anything else, I understand.

- Oh dear, it will be a shame to cut, your hair is beautiful! - Brenda stated that she had complimented the teen's curls as soon as they were introduced.

- Honey, the girl is right. - Defended Malcon while finishing cutting the vegetables for the daughter who was sitting between her parents. - These are dangerous times, dark wizards have grown a lot, going unnoticed is always better than attracting unwanted attention.

- And how do you want to do it? - Asked the teacher.

- I need to look as different as possible, but I don't want to mess with the color.

- The solution then would be a pixie cut! - Aileen suggested excited, both for having managed to clean her son with a spell and mainly because she loved fashion. - I saw in "The American Charmer" that the cut is the latest trend among American witches!

- Do you help me?

And so Christmas Eve had ended at the McGonagalls' house: with Minerva, the two sisters-in-law, and Hermione having fun with the arduous task of a haircut, while Isobel dozed in the armchair near the fireplace and the lighted Christmas tree, she I should keep an eye on the children Isla and Max who play with the gifts they had won since the men had decided it was worth it to face the winter cold to smoke a cigar on the porch.

***

It was amazing how even after a long and tiring seven-hour journey Sirius didn't stop still. After trying to flirt with six girls on the way between the carriages and the Great Hall, he still had the strength to try one more time in the Gryffindor Hall! With all five friends nicely settled on the rug in front of the fireplace - forgetting for the time being the position of monitors - they saw from a box when a girl of medium height, head high and nose upturned, walked past the Fat Lady painting. With her hair short to her ears, tight pants and a sweater that outlined her body beautifully, she carried a book to her breasts, in a body language that maybe hiding was a good idea where she tried to be brave.

As she passed them, Sirius couldn't help himself.

- Pretty girl…. Well done girl! Beautiful girl…. - He exclaimed his compliments out loud, in an attempt to get her attention.

Instead of flushed cheeks, he only received a questioning look, along with contempt. I mean, at least hers, since her pickup line had hit another girl who came through the frame right behind.

- Sirius! Marlene McKinnon threw herself into her lap, believing it was for her.

Engrossed in his friends' jokes with Marlene and Sirius who had a true love-hate relationship since one hour they were flirting and the next they were cursing, Remus was more shocked by what he saw in front of him. That was the newbie! What would have happened to that change? What had she done? What she….

- What did she do with her hair? Remus asked indignantly, still watching the girl climb the dorm stairs.

- Who she? - James found his friend's focus strange, turning his body to look in the direction his friend indicated.

- The new one!

- That was Granger?! - James turned even more, losing sight of her.

- Did you do something, Lilly? Remus asked, trying to figure out the reason for the sudden change.

- Absolutely nothing! I haven't talked to her yet.

- Excellent! Even the newcomer rejected me! Is it not possible to be with anyone else in this school?! Sirius complained indignantly.

- McKinnon doesn't seem to agree with that, Padfoot…. - Peter laughed at his friend, who had just managed to get rid of the brunette.

Did I mention that they had a strange love-hate relationship? Well they did! She had already made her feelings for him more than clear, but he didn't reciprocate in the same way - resulting in awkward moments like this.

- What did she do with her hair…? Remus asked quietly, drawing Sirius' attention.

- Dude, it's just a haircut!

- But it had to be so radical?! I didn't even recognize her!

- Why? Have you been watching the newcomer?

- Of course not!

"But that's true, Sirius had never tried anything with her."

- Her luck ran out, unfortunately…. Lilly teased the brunette, receiving an ugly finger.

"Did you have to start seeing her, Potter?" Sirius implied.

- My luck was that you didn't try anything with her either.

- Hey! I respect my friends' girls!

If Sirius had sung the fledgling once without even knowing it was her, would he do it again on purpose? Remus didn't like to think about that possibility for some time, a fact that was proven two days later, when Padfoot did just that.

- Want help loading your books? - Sirius asked in a wooden face, intercepting her on the way to the second greenhouse where the sixth year students would have a herbology class and the seventh year students would leave.

He didn't even have the pleasure of an answer, only receiving a freezing look as he passed him and turned his eyes to the notepaper in his hand.

"Hard woman…" Sirius snorted, laughing at the situation.

- Do you really want to insist on that, Padfoot? She seems to have made it very clear that she doesn't want to be disturbed. James hugged his friend by the shoulder as they walked back to the castle for their next class.

- I don't know, I think it would be an excellent pastime for the end of the school year, and maybe I can get a kiss?

- I think a kick in your balls is more likely! - Peter exclaimed with a laugh.

- And you, Remus? What do you think? Sirius asked his friend who was frowning, following the girl with his eyes.

- Why did she cut her hair….?

- What is this fixation for hair that you developed, huh?!

That would go on for the rest of the day, to the point where Sirius lost his temper right after dinner.

- Still thinking about her hair? James nudged his friend, who was looking at the girl curled up in the same chair as before, reading a book of advanced potions.

- Couldn't she have decreased just a little bit? Did I need all this change?

- ENOUGH! Sirius got annoyed. - Let's end this now! THIS IS THE TENTH TIME YOU HAVE GROUNDED ABOUT THAT IDIOT HAIR!

- THERE WASN'T IDIOT!

Sirius didn't give a damn about his friend, marching over to the fledgling.

- This is going to be a good one. James barked, settling himself better to watch the show.

Hermione so far hadn't noticed the altered voices in the hall, only taking her attention from her book when she saw a pair of legs stop right in front of her. When he realized it was Sirius, he rolled his eyes internally because he thought it was another line from the boy. She made a mental note of one day making a point of complaining to Harry about how his godfather was a pain in the ass.

- Can I help you with anything? - She tried to be polite at least once.

- He can. A friend asked me to ask you….

- Is it serious? I would like to be alone if you don't impose….

- REALLY! James asked me to ask you why Remus just STOP TALKING ABOUT it, but….

- Can't you summarize?

- Why did you cut your hair?

Hermione was silent, shock consuming her existence. Was this serious? In the midst of all that fuss (which she had already done in fourth year when Harry and Ron were fighting), was the subject of her hair? And why on earth would that be Professor Lupin's concern?

With a frown of confusion she simply stated:

- This only concerns me.

- No, no, no…. You may have no appreciation for anyone else at this school, but I care a lot about my sanity and my ears! One reason is all I need!

Hermione glanced sideways at the fireplace, raising her eyebrow as she noticed Lupin, Potter and Pettigrew staring at them expectantly.

- Well, if your friend wants to know so much, he should come and ask himself, and not send a homing pigeon.

And ignoring Sirius, Hermione turned her attention back to her book, hoping to find out if that crazy hair was true. Sirius huffed in annoyance, returning to the couch and dropping to the floor, rubbing his temples.

- And then?! Remus asked boldly, forgetting to show disinterest.

- If you want to know, you will have to go there and ask yourself!

- Hey, did you stop asking? - James was surprised.

- No, that was her answer. But she didn't seem very able to answer you, to be honest. What animal bit her?

- Probably a dog. - Peter joked, receiving a pillow in the face.

_***_

It was the next morning that Minerva McGonagall had intercepted Remus on his way out of the transfiguration class, asking for a moment to talk alone. Already preparing to hear some lecture about his friends who had been caught last night for trying to smuggle sweet pies from the kitchen to the dorm, Remus thought of the best possible excuse for what they had done, but he had no idea, they actually they weren't even supposed to be caught since they were wearing the Marauder's Map and James' Invisibility Cloak, but it was true that the cloak was already getting small for three so Remus had stayed behind.

- Sorry, Professor, but I'm sure it wasn't James and Sirius' intention!

Minerva shook her head first, then laughed at her student's lost expression.

- It's nothing related to them, Mr. Lupin, but it's good to know that something is coming, the last event with the theft of sweet pies was a bit comical. I asked you to stay a little longer because I need to talk to you about a very important subject, regarding the transfiguration classes.

- Did something happen?

- Yes and no. I've noticed that several fifth and sixth graders have had various difficulties with crucial elements of the transfiguration, and I don't know why they're afraid to come and ask me for help. I thought about it and talked to Headmaster Dumbledore and we decided to open tutoring hours for students to ask questions with other students selected by me. There will be three groups: from the first to the third, fourth and fifth, and sixth and seventh. As I know of your tribulations with NEWTs, I would like you to help me with the sixth and seventh grades.

- I… Wow. I would love! But… I'm afraid of not being efficient or being able to help during that period….

- You will not be alone, you will have another person monitoring with you. Can we schedule twice a week then? Twice in an hour or once in two hours?

- I prefer twice, if it's not bothersome for the other monitor. By the way, who will it be?

- Jean Granger.

Remus blinked a few times in confusion. Who the hell was Jean? He only knew one Granger, but that wasn't her name.

- Jean, teacher? - He took a chance.

Minerva glanced at the door, to make sure they were alone before asking him to secrecy.

- I believe you remember what you heard that day in my office, before Christmas. I cannot give too many details, that concerns her, but it was necessary to change her name.

Remus blinked his eyes hastily. Was she in that much danger?

"Just ask, idiot" - Moony showed his point, being ignored.

- I see… Have you talked to her about monitoring?

- We talked about it over Christmas and she is more than willing to help with tutoring. You will be amazed at the potential of that young woman. - Minerva hid a smile, suspecting that an approach between the two would be beneficial for both.

***

As agreed, every Tuesday and Thursday, from 5 pm to 6 pm, Remus and Jean were to appear in the transfiguration room to offer tutoring to their sixth and seventh year classmates. It would certainly take some time for a living soul to appear, so it was more than crucial that they did not remain in an awkward silence in the meantime. Not wanting to be late on the first day, Remus dropped out of arithmancy class as soon as it ended, not paying much attention to what Lilly had come to ask him. Even after trying not to be late, as soon as he opened the living room door he found Jean sitting on top of her desk, her legs bent like a lotus flower, reading a book.

He walked over and cleared his throat, but the girl was immersed in her own bubble. Risking a good afternoon, he at least managed to get her to respond to the greeting more automatically than consciously. Ashamed of his existence in a place where he clearly wasn't welcome, Remus sat at his usual table - which surprisingly was right next to the one she was at - pulling out his Arithmancy notebook and doing some calculations to pass the time. It must have been at least half an hour before he noticed a male voice in the room.

Your own voice.

- I also like Hogwarts, a story.

Hermione stopped her reading and straightened up, wondering if Lupine had really spoken to her. She risked turning to him and when she saw that he was looking at her, she deduced that she was.

- Not everyone agrees with you.

- I thought you were homeschooled...

- And I was, but knowledge is never too much.

- Is this your first time reading the book?

"Idiot, isn't it kind of obvious that she's read it before?" Moony rolled his eyes at Remus' lack of social skills.

- Actually, seventy-third.

Remus widened his eyes at that.

- You're kidding, aren't you?

- No. Reading it has always been kind of soothing to me since I was eleven. Whenever I needed to be alone or for company, he was the one I turned to. Hermione didn't see any harm in telling him that, she loved talking about books.

Besides, he seemed to be more baffled than she was.

- This gives an average reading of 10,428 times a year. What happened for you to spend more time reading it than…

- Did you manage to do that in your head?! Hermione deviated from the main topic.

- You do not?

- 10.42857142857143 would be the exact average. ” She replied with a smug smile.

"Is she a human counting machine?"

- Do you also do arithmancy?

- I tried to advance the advanced class, but the teacher did not trust my skills even with my NOMS grades, she said that it would be better for me to follow the normal flow and only do it when I was in seventh grade. Is this today's duty? - She asked craning her neck, not holding back with curiosity.

Remus just held out his notebook, being shocked at how sharp the gears in the witch's brain were at work. It was obvious he didn't complain when she pulled out a quill and fixed some numbers, verifying that she had found the errors. If she was so happy doing seventh grade exercises, he wouldn't be the one to complain and stop her from doing so.

I mean, he had already done a lot of that for his friends, someone could once do their duty for him, right?

He couldn't say exactly when, but at some point he approached her table, starting to resolve issues together for hours explaining why her resolution would not be possible with reality, but she insisted on hypothetical arguments for them to be used that he did not understand. The more he explained she replied, going so far as to create calculations and scribbles in her notebook explaining her point. She had been distracted by tracing the trajectory of an alternate spell, allowing him to just watch her.

"The long hair was more beautiful" - Moony complained, making Remus agree.

- Can I ask you something? - He asked embarrassed.

- You just asked.

Remus rolled his eyes, not believing that she really had made that old joke.

- Why did you cut your hair?

He didn't like the disbelieving laugh he got, along with a shocked look.

- I thought Black was making fun of me when he asked me that and blamed you, but…. You are really asking me this!

- I admit that I went a little overboard with my reflections on your motives, but it's only because I don't like extreme, sudden or sudden changes!

He hated being a man one second and being a wolf the next.

"HEY!"

   Hermione was silent for a while just staring at him, to the point that Remus wished he were an ostrich to stick his head into the ground in shame. Why did he have to worry so much about a damn hair?!

- Do you know the witness protection program?

- I think I've heard about it somewhere ... - Remus remembered the several times he was forced to move so that the neighbors wouldn't realize that he was always sick near the full moon because of his transformations.

- I decided since the ministry forced me to change so many things, changing my hair would be the least and well, it would help with everything to go unnoticed. Until the last half semester they were trying to solve my… case, but with no result they decided that it was best to give me a new identity and since I don't think I was noticed here, the name won't make much difference. Professor McGonagall already warned you that my name is now Jean, and well… I think you already know that I live with the professor because she is my nice Tutor and now that I've cut my hair. End.

- I preferred it long… - He blurted out, blushing then.

"Long hair is good to play with"

- Me either. Hermione agreed with him, returning to her wistful bubble.

Nervous that he had done something stupid, Remus despaired, but was saved by the bell. In the next minute the alarm that sounded at 6 pm rang out, summoning everyone to dinner.

- Since no one showed up…. Want company to the Salon? - He let go, trying to redeem himself.

   Hermione thought for a while, packing her bag and accepting the offer. They walked in silence to the Gryffindor table, nodding their heads off. Remus had barely sat down on the bench when he was bombarded by questions from his home's redheaded monitor.

- Did she just greet you, Remus?

- Yea…?

- Why? They were talking?

- Remus said he had someone else on prefect with him. Was her? - James interjected.

- Yes.

- And did you talk anything or just coexist in silence because she still refuses to interact with anyone?

- We talked a few things.

- Did you by any chance ask about her hair? James took it off with his face, while Sirius and Peter sat at the table.

- That hair thing again? Sirius whimpered.

- I asked, but I won't tell.

Everyone else opened their mouths in shock. Had he really asked something so personal to someone who didn't even know of his existence?!

- You didn't disturb us for three days to just be quiet!

Remus just shrugged, indicating that no more words would come out of his mouth as he smirked and went back to drinking his pumpkin juice.

[lymricks]

If you're into it and have the time, I'd love to see the scene in which the kids give Billy his winter coat in a little more detail. Also maybe a Billy/Hopper interaction? Or a Billy/Joyce conversation? I have such a thing for watching Billy interact with the people who love and care about Steve. Your head canons about these relationships work too, if you've got any you want to share!

Hi Anon!!! It’s a gift giving holiday for some people, so here’s a Chicago-verse gift giving fic where the termites give Billy his jacket.

I’m hopping on a plane in a few hours to go on an Exciting Adventure with my best friend. My queue is all loaded up and I’m sure I’ll be around a bit, but feel free to drop prompts in my ask box for me to do when I get back/on planes. I hate flying and I’ll be very bored. See you in the new year, everyone!!!!

the one with the winter coat (now also on ao3, but I cannot for the life of me figure out how to link it on this stupid app), ~1500 words, T

Harrington has been gone for one hour and twenty four minutes. Billy has given up on trying to act like he’s Totally Fine hanging around the Harrington house with Harrington’s ex-girlfriend and six teenagers. He’s bored as shit and they’re all fucking weird as shit and Hawkins makes his skin crawl.

He’s here for Thanksgiving and the turkey better be fucking incredible.

Harrington had pressed a kiss to his temple one hour and twenty–five, now–minutes ago before running out to the store with Jonathan. A few quick things, he said. A few quick things Billy’s ass. He should have just gone with them. Except–

“I ran into your dad at the grocery store that one time,” Harrington had murmured. Billy had been sitting on the Harrington’s kitchen island and Harrington was standing between the v of his thighs. The sentence made Billy flinch away and cut his gaze, but Steve’s hands on his thighs had kept him from jumping off. “I’m just saying I don’t think you should come with me for this,” Steve had continued, and he’d run his hands up Billy’s thighs and kissed at Billy’s lower lip. Sometimes when Harrington did that Billy felt like he was drowning and it was maybe the best thing he’d felt probably ever. It made him want to say yes to whatever Harrington was asking of him. “I don’t want your dad to surprise you.” It’s a fair point, Billy has to concede that. He doesn’t want to see his dad, doesn’t want him to appear beside the eggo waffles, doesn’t want to hear the low undertone of his voice, or see his stupid fucking mustache. That’s why–when they’re in Hawkins–he almost never goes anywhere without Harrington as an escort. That’s why–right now–he is wandering aimlessly around Harrington’s house while Nancy pointedly does not stare and all six teenagers track his movements like some sort of birds of prey.

He’s going to have to come back and do this all over again for Christmas, although probably at the Byers’s house. They’re only here because Harrington’s parents are out of town for the holiday and the kids like all the different rooms in the house and Harrington’s bigger tv.

Back for Christmas. Billy doesn’t want to come back here ever. Twice in less than a month is–a lot for him to know is coming.

“I need a smoke,” he mumbles to the room at large, grabbing his brown leather jacket–the same one from high school, he loves it and they’re expensive to replace–and wanders out into the backyard. “Fuck,” he says to the empty air outside, tipping his head back to exhale smoke in a stream at the starless sky. He’d never come here in high school, but he’d been four houses over once. He can still hear the echoes of the sirens he’d run from after climbing out that girl’s window, laughing, with his pants half off.

Billy breathes in cold air and smoke. He should have gone to the store, but in the eight months they’ve been together, Billy’s been back to Hawkins, been staying at the Harrington’s house, been chauffeured around in the passenger seat of a borrowed car that Harrington’s driving a lot of times. He thinks people have probably put two and two together about Steve Harrington and Billy Hargrove. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much, but he wonders–all the fucking time–what people in this shitty little town think about the Harrington boy being in some sort of arrangement with that no good Hargrove kid. He doesn’t mind being the no good kid so much as he minds the things it must make people think about Harrington–about–about Steve.

He pats his pocket, but there’s no more cigarettes there and already Billy feels jittery with the knowledge, like he’s drowning and not in the good way. He hopes someone else has a pack, but who’s he going to ask? Dustin? He’s still half-grinning to himself at the thought of asking Dustin for a cigarette when he slides the door open and steps back inside. It’s too cold to stand outside, especially without a cigarette. Even while he’d been smoking, Billy was fighting the biting Indiana chill.

The kids are huddled together just inside the door. Dustin has both hands on his head. Lucas is looking back and forth between Mike and Dustin in disbelief.

“He’s already got a jacket,” Mike is saying, waving his hands around.

“It’s not a winter coat,” Will answers. He’s standing more in the middle of the circle and he cuts his gaze to El, who nods. “It’s not very warm,” he adds.

“We also already bought it!” Lucas rolls his eyes then turns the full force of his glare on Mike. Billy’s impressed by how intense it is. Kid’s been practicing in the mirror, maybe. “So this whole conversation is stupid.”

“We have to do it for Steve,” Dustin explains.

“For him, too. He’s cold,” the weird girl–Hopper’s daughter, El, adds.

“I already said we should do this,” Max says, and she huffs on a big sigh. “He doesn’t–it’s right to.”

“And we already bought it,” Lucas says again.

“I just think it should be the right gift,” Mike snaps and when Billy steps closer Mike’s holding both hands up, looking a lot like surrender even if his mouth is pulled down at the corners. “It’s his first official gift. We got Steve something way better.”

“Shut up,” Max hisses then, and her bright eyes meet Billy’s across the room. shoving Mike’s shoulder. As though they all have one brain, six pairs of teenage eyes turn in unison to look at Billy.

“Right,” Billy says slowly. “I can just–”

“We have something for you,” Dustin shouts it, bursts up from where he’s hunched over at Lucas’s shoulder clutching a lumpy, paper-wrapped square. The paper is just plain and brown, but when it’s thrust into Billy’s hands–the rest of the kids behind Dustin poking their heads over his shoulder like some sort of cartoon–he can see that there’s drawings on it.

“Will did them,” Mike says helpfully when Billy runs a finger over one.

There’s a series of crayon and pencil images. His Camaro, long gone now, and Billy crouched in a leather jacket, staring–moodily, he would definitely call the expression Will Byers drew on his face moody–out a window. There’s the Byers’s house, and a rough sketch of the necklace Billy never takes off, and one of Max that Billy recognizes as a real moment from a few months ago–her with both hands around his wrist, trying to drag him to the ground. She’d been trying to win a particularly aggressive game of basketball. Billy hadn’t called her foul.

It’s the drawing in the top left corner next to Dustin’s messy handwriting–which reads To Billy from Termites–that Billy’s gaze stops on. He sucks in a sharp breath.

The drawing is a scene from their old apartment in Chicago. He knows it by the tiny kitchen window Will’s drawn behind the couch, the one Harrington always left Christmas lights up around. The drawing itself is of Billy and Harrington. They’re sitting on the couch next to each other. Will’s drawn them with their knees bumping, with Harrington’s cheek flopped lazily against Billy’s shoulder, with Billy’s arm stretched out behind him, his fingers just curling over Harrington’s shoulder.

Billy has never felt vulnerable in front of teenagers before, not really. He wonders, looking down at this package, if he’s going to fucking cry.

“There’s actually something else inside it,” Dustin says. When Billy looks up he’s rolling his eyes, but Will’s cheeks are tinged red and Billy lets his mouth curl into something that, under a microscope, under extreme duress, he might admit is a smile.

“Open it,” Dustin says.

Billy does. Slowly and with–with reverence, really–he peels back the corners. Underneath the wrapping, which is in itself the best present he’s ever gotten–is a warm, dark winter coat. There’s no fur lining the hood, like Harrington’s has and which Billy makes fun of endlessly. It’s just simple. It just looks warm. He sets the paper down carefully on the table and sheds his leather jacket, pulling it on.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Holy shit,” Max breathes. “You know how to say thank you?”

It breaks the moment, and Billy’s so grateful to her for it, because he doesn’t know what to do with his face. He chucks his old jacket at her face and then Mike is grabbing El and dragging her back toward the tv because a show he likes is on it, he can hear the music, come on hurry and Lucas tries to help Max fix her hair.

It’s just Dustin and Will, then, looking at Billy in his new winter coat. Billy pushes hair out of his face, doesn’t really know how to say thank you for something like all this.

“Told you it was a good present,” Dustin says, sounding smug and looking at Will.

“I was on your side!” Will exclaims.

“Yeah,” Billy says. “It’s. It’s really good.”

Then the door swings open. Jonathan shouts for the kids to come help carry groceries in, and Billy is left standing alone in the Harrington’s house for a silent two minutes. He can just sort of hear them outside, the rustle of plastic bags, the slamming of car doors.

Harrington is the first through the door. Billy can hear him drop plastic bags in the kitchen, listens to the sound of his footsteps as he comes closer. Harrington appears, suddenly, in front of him. His cheeks are pink from the Hawkins cold and his grin is warm and immediate the second he sees Billy.

Billy feels like he’s drowning. He reaches for Harrington like he’s a life vest. “Nice coat,” Harrington says, sounding a little surprised when Billy tugs him closer and slides his hands into Harrington’s back pockets, but leaning into Billy’s chest all the same. “They’ve been nervous about that for three weeks.”

Billy looks up at Harrington’s big stupid eyes and feels warm in a lot of different ways, all at once.

[theonceoverthinker]

Nag: A Knight Rook Story (2/2)

Part 1

Summary: Rogers is known for being one hell of a nag. How do wild spirits like Tilly and later Alice feel when he’s suddenly a very present part of their lives?

Time for part 2! Before I start again, I want to thank @killianmesmalls for giving me this prompt! Confession time: She originally asked me to examine how Tilly would view Roger’s nagging after the curse broke, and that’s what the goal of this part is!

Let’s get a move on!

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Tilly doesn’t have a problem with Roger’s nagging until the curse breaks, and when it happens, suddenly Alice very much does.

Alice isn’t the child that she used to be. Before Gothel cursed her father’s heart and separated them, she was a teenager, and an isolated one at that. Her bits of nuttiness had been accepted. But it’s been over a decade since then. She’s been out in the world. She should be more...normal.

She now wonders if she’s good enough for him. The curse has curbed his taste, made him civil, or at least more so than he was before.

He’s changed too. As Rogers, he’s less accepting of her bouts of silliness past a certain point. As they got closer, he started to nag more. Eat this. Bundle up. Read some more books. Tilly, little by little, listened, because he was her truest friend in an otherwise cold and manipulative world.

But now, Rogers is her father, and Alice finds the person who she is to be a terrifying embarrassment when faced with the reality of who Killian has become. Not every part of her. She’s not ashamed of her girlfriend, who Rogers has welcome into the family with warm and open arms. Other parts of herself though, she’s more afraid to show. They’re things that Rogers always nagged about. When they eat, she doesn’t ask for orange marmalade sandwiches. She has turkey instead, and salads at dinner. She doesn’t make the same observations that she usually would. She keeps her spaces clean.

Killian doesn’t address any of it until one day where he hears Alice styling her hair from the bathroom with a blow dryer. He knocks on the door.

“Alice, love,” Killian asks hesitantly. “Can we talk when you’re dressed?”

“Of course, Papa.” Alice finds herself apprehensive. It’s not an emotion she’s foreign to, but she’s seldom been apprehensive towards either her papa or Rogers.

It’s only when she knows she’s disappointed him.

Alice slowly gets ready, her mind running with anything and everything that she might have done to cause this disappointment. She’s been careful, but perhaps what she’s messed up is hidden in plain sight. She looks around. Her room is spotless. Her clothes aren’t wrinkled. She had even blow dried her hair so that she could style it in a neat way that she thinks he’d like.

It doesn’t makes sense. Normally, those four words are a comfort, but for now, they cause panic.

When she finally emerges, sporting a v-neck, unripped jeans, and flats, Killian is waiting for her at the kitchen table. He looks nervous, as if he’s searching for the words to convey his displeasure. Alice silently gulps.

She sits down. Killian gives her a weak smile.

“Hello, Papa,” she greets. “What did you want to talk about?”

Killian’s smile fades away and he bites his lip. There’s a pause before he speaks.

“Is...Is everything alright, Alice?” He asks, concern clear. “With you, that is?”

Alice longs to tell him that it’s not, that her fear of letting her father down is eating at her like a dog at a slab of peanut butter.

“Everything’s fine,” she lies. “Why do you ask?”

“I just worry you’re not happy.”

Alice sighs. This part is easy to say. This part is the truth.

“Of course I’m happy, Papa. We’re together again.” Killian smiles again and she mirrors it back.

“I know, Alice,” he says, his expressions much more relaxed. “I think it’s being with you, getting used to you again that’s made me all confused. You’ve grown and changed so much,” Killian comments, placing a reassuring hand on hers. “I hardly recognize you sometimes.”

She gestures her hands towards herself. “I know, right?” Regardless of her words and a level of genuine happiness at being here, being with her father once more, she feels hollow. She knows why too. Pesky half truths. She’d have to squash the longing for her old life, for her own self until it goes away. It’ll be hard, but she’d figure it out.

Killian clicks his tongue. “It seems that time only moves forward, and we all must adapt. You’d figure being over two hundred years old, I’d know that better than anyone, right?” Alice nods. She’s missed this so much. It’s worth it to give up her true self to be with him. She hopes so at least. “Well, it’s nearing noon. Shall we eat?”

“Yes, Papa.” She feels her stomach beg for food. In all her worries, she’s famished herself.

“We can have anything you want, though I suppose, given your new habits, we’ll have no more lunches of orange marmalade,” he teases.

In that moment, Alice’s breathing goes heavy, and her smile crumbles beneath her. She can’t even fake a smile, let alone a chortle at his remark.

Despite all her efforts beforehand, that one sentence from her father, that one bit of seeming disregard for her favorite meal destroys her resolve.

Perhaps it’s because it’s one of their oldest traditions. Perhaps it’s because Killian knows that Tilly loves it and on the worst of days, it was the only thing that could make her childhood self smile. No matter the reason, the spark of realization for the true nature of her sacrifice chokes her like a chicken bone in her throat.

Suddenly, that self that she longed to abandon so much becomes that much harder to.

No, she can’t do it, and that crushes her.

“Papa,” she blubbers, tears growing in her eyes.

“A-Alice,” Killian speaks softly, his hand lightly squeezing hers. “What’s wrong?”

By this point, Alice’s blubbers have grown into full on sobs. Killian scoots his chair closer to her and wraps his arms around her.

“It’s okay, Alice,” he coos. “It’s okay.”

It’s not though. She’s failed to live up to her father’s hopes for her, and she has no idea what will happen next.

“No, it’s not!” Alice insists.

“Please Alice,” Killian begs. “Tell me what’s the matter.” She, against her wishes, pulls back from their hug and looks into her father’s eyes. They’re equal parts bright and calming. All they want, and  by extension, all he wants is to make things better, to make her better.

But she’s not better. All she is is Alice.

“Papa, I can’t keep lying. Not to you, and not to myself! This isn’t who I am! I hate turkey and salads and boring conversation about the weather and spending half an hour getting my hair ready! I make metaphors about ants and I brush my hair maybe twice a week, and God, all I want is an orange marmalade sandwich right now! But you always nagged at me about that stuff during the curse, and like you said, so much time has passed. I know you want someone more normal, but that’s not me, and it never will be me, and I’m sorry.” She cries throughout the whole speech, especially as she sees that her father’s face has yet to change or react to her words. Alice has never been so scared in her life. All she wants is to go lay down and cry until her eyes run dry.

She closes her eyes to let a few more tears emerge, and when she’s opened her eyes, finally, her father’s expression has changed.

Killian’s smiling. He’s smiling and a low chuckle is rising. He fans his hand through his hair.

Alice couldn’t be more confused if she tried. Before she can voice the million questions, Killian speaks.

“Oh, Thank God,” he sighs, still letting loose that low chuckle. Alice is still as confused as before, but this time, Killian is here to elaborate. He released a cough that brings his bout of blight to an end. “Alice, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. All of these changes, they just weren’t you, or at least who I thought you were. I was afraid you’d grown beyond the girl I knew you as.Time has passed, and nothing, not that witch’s curse nor the darkness’ hold could’ve hurt more than knowing that my sunny girl had lost all those quirks that make her who she is, and I’m glad they’re all still here within her.” Alice beams. Tears come forward and dampen her cheeks, but this time, they’re happy tears. “I don’t want a daughter who’s too preoccupied with normal to talk to me about everything wrong with bobbleheads.” Now Alice is the one chuckling. She’s relieved beyond words. She still has her hero. She still has her knight, and all he desires her to be is herself.

“So I don’t have to try to be a perfect daughter?”

Killian shakes his head. “You’re already my perfect daughter.” Suddenly, Alice stomach rumbles, and Killian’s chuckle returns. “Well, with one flaw, and one easily rectified: You’re missing a marmalade sandwich in your hands.”

Alice smirks. “And would my Papa be willing to make me one?” Her tone is wild. He grins as she asks her question.

“As luck would have it, I have an unopened jar in our pantry. How about we stay in today, get in our PJ’s, and just relax? Sandwiches and chess sound nice?” Alice doesn’t answer. She instead releases a shriek of relief, a very Alice shriek, and embraces her father. They hug each other tightly, and Alice promises herself that they’ll never let themselves be separated again, not physically nor emotionally. “I love you, Alice,” Killian whispers. “Every single part of you.”

“I love you too, Papa.”

Finally, they were truly and completely together.