#you’ve been a real friend katie sure

[bobbie-robron]

Who you love more: HER or your family. And THINK hard, Robert. Because if you choose her, you’ll never be a part of this family again, as long as I live. (Part 2)

No wonder Robert had father/insecurity issues to the bitter end when issued ultimatums as he is done here 🤬. Andy goes on about how he’d never cheat on Katie like Robert did with Donna with a random. Katie keeps leaving messages for Robert while she convinces Donna to move back to Viv’s. With a box of chocolates, Robert and Victoria get back on track (sweet scene). Jack literally goes ballistic when he sees Robert and Katie together (unplanned). Jack brings up possibly sending him away to get this ‘sordid business’ of of his head. Robert admits being in love with Katie. Well, Jack has an ultimatum: it’s either Katie or his family, he can’t have both!

22-Apr-2004

[upsidedownwithsteve]

hand me your heart. 1973

Steve Harrington x fem!reader. A Halloween miniseries.

“Trick or treat!”

Steve’s staring. He’s never seen a prettier princess, not even in those Disney films his cousin Katy makes him watch. He’s seven years old and he’s not sure what to do with himself, so he stands in his oversized doorway and holds the candy jar his mom filled up before she left with his dad to go to some fancy dinner. There’s full size chocolate bars in there, a packet of giant twizzlers that has the whole thing smelling like fake cherries.

His babysitter is a freshman called Jessica and she’s been on the phone in the kitchen for an hour now, the curly wire wrapped around one arm and a leg as she picks at the pepperoni pizza they’d ordered two hours ago. She refused to take him out trick or treating, said it was dumb and for kids, but Steve is a kid. He’s seven years old and his parents haven’t been home for the last three weekends and he’d begged and begged for them to take him trick or treating.

His mom had nodded and smiled, but she’d been on the phone at the time with Sharon from the country club. his dad had said fine but he’d been reading the newspaper and when Steve had reminded him the next day, he said he couldn’t remember agreeing to that.

Turns out they were busy and Jessica had been booked to babysit for weeks ahead of time.

It’s fine. He didn’t have a costume anyway.

And besides, if he’d went out roaming the streets for candy, he wouldn’t have been home to open his door for you.

You’re super pretty, with a purple dress on that’s a little too long but he can see your sneakers peeking out underneath. You have a tiara on too - it’s a little squint but Steve doesn’t think it matters, it suits you that way. He’s seen you in school, you’re in the class below him and you like to play with the jump ropes at recess, you have strawberry milk with your lunch. He knows your name even if he’s too scared to say it out loud and right now, you’re standing on his porch with a kind faced lady he thinks might be your mom.

You’re staring at him too.

Just before he forgets himself, he remembers he’s in old pyjama pants and a basketball shirt that his dad bought him before he chose a team he liked best. So it’s a garish orange that makes his eyes hurt and his pants have tiny gingerbread men on them because his mom still hadn’t done any laundry since she got back from Cabo.

Maybe you won’t notice, he thinks. Maybe, if he’s really lucky, you won’t care.

But you take a Hershey bar from the bowl Steve’s still holding with a small smile when you realise he isn’t going to ask you to tell him a joke or, well, speak at all. So you say thank you because that’s what your mom taught you to do and then you run off back into the street with your purple dress blowing behind you. The wind picks at it, tugs at the hem that’s a little wet and muddy from the October weather and Steve can see your yellow leggings underneath and they have pumpkins on them and suddenly Steve doesn’t feel as silly as he did before.

Steve’s still watching. Long after you’ve caught up with your friend and her mom, another girl Steve knows from school. Someone called Robin and he only knows that because she trips over a lot and always has to see the nurse for a bandaid.

There’s a wind that’s picking up, blowing the fallen leaves across the sidewalk that’s full of kids because everyone comes to his neighbourhood for the good candy and Steve stands alone on his porch. He watches you walk away and fix your tiara until finally you turn back around and catch his eye. It’s dark and you’re a little far, so maybe, he hopes, you can’t see his cheeks turn red. A burning pink that reaches his ears and makes him Timmy feel a little weird. But you smile and wave at him, a tiny gesture that has Steve’s heart thumping and he smiles right back. He wants to wave too, but he’s still holding that big bowl of candy and he’s real scared that he’ll drop it and look like even more of an idiot.

But you smiled at him, a real nice smile that showed off your missing back tooth and Steve thinks that it’s the best thing to happen all night, even better than when he watched Todd Freeman tee-pee Mrs Hackleshaw’s front lawn from his dad’s office window.

And maybe, he thinks, next Halloween, he can go trick or treating with you too.

[alotofpockets]

Reunited on the field | Alessia Russo

Pairing: Alessia Russo x Reader

Prompts: "If there is nothing going on between you two, you don't mind if I ask them on a date, do you?" & "I think I'm in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me."

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | words: 1.2k

Since you left college you have played in the United States of America for both club and country. Your transfer to Arsenal was going to be a big change for you with the move to a different continent but you were excited for this opportunity. Luckily there were some familiar faces on the team that you knew would take you under their wing. Both Lotte and Alessia had been your teammates at college, you stayed in contact with most of the Tar Heels girls over the years, and were excited to be sharing the field with them once again. 

Your assumption of your UNC teammates taking you under their wing couldn’t have been more true. You fell back into the close friendship you had with the both of them almost immediately. They showed you around London, introduced you to the rest of the team, and made sure you felt at home at Arsenal. The first month at your new club consisted primarily of training. You were getting to know the team that had welcomed you with open arms better and better. The team had taken you in as their own right away.

Today was another day of training, and you were running drills with a couple of the girls while the rest was still stretching. Unbeknownst to you Lotte was questioning Alessia on the other side of the field, “So, Lessi, how’s the crush on y/n going?” Alessia shoved her friend's shoulder, “Come one, Lotte, how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t have a crush on her anymore?” Lotte laughed, and ran off to join in on the drills.

A few days later you’re at the gym, getting a workout in with the team. You’re about to bench press and look around for someone to spot you, when you see Alessia had just finished one of her own sets. “Hey Less, could you spot me real quick?” The blond moves your way, “Wait, are you going for a new PR?” Alessia says checking out the weights you put on the bar. “Yes, I am, trying for one at least.” She gets ready by standing behind the bench, while you lay down, mentally preparing yourself. “Come on, you’ve got this.” Alessia encourages you, as you reach for the bar and lower it. You start lifting the bar, pushing with all the strength that you’ve got. “Almost, come on. Push, you’ve got it.” Her words push you along, and you’re able to do the full lift. Alessia helps you put the weight back on the rack. You jump up and give her a hug, “Thank you Less, couldn’t have done it without you!” With a kick peck to her cheek, you walk off to tell the trainers about your new PR, leaving Alessia frozen in place.

“Oi, what’s wrong with Russo?” Katie asks Lotte who is actively laughing at Alessia's reaction. “She has had the biggest crush on y/l/n since college and she just kissed her cheek.” Katie smirks at this new information. “And she never acted on it?” Lotte shakes her head. “She claims she hasn’t had a crush on her since she left college but you saw her reaction, proving she’s lying.” The girls both laugh. 

Katie decides to join Lotte in teasing Alessia about her crush and walks up to her teammate. “Hey, Russo, a little birdy told me you have a little crush on our newbie.” Alessia sends Lotte a quick glare, who just smiles back. “Not you too Macca, I do not have a crush on her” The striker did not like the smile that appeared on Katie’s face. "If there is nothing going on between you two, you don't mind if I ask her on a date, do you?" Alessia’s eyes widened, “Don’t you dare.” Katie laughs, “Cool, point proven. You’ve got to tell y/n, Russo, what do you have to lose?” You pop up beside them, “Tell me what?” Alessia’s face turns a dark shade of red, while Katie and Lotte break out in laughter. You’re a bit confused by the laughter, but you decide to put your focus on Alessia. You take her hand and lead her out of the gym, away from the laughing that seemed to make her more uncomfortable.

“What’s going on, Less? Is everything alright?” You ask once you have made your way outside. She was quiet for a moment, before she just started rambling. “I like you, y/n. Like not as friends, though I like you as a friend too of course. I like you for real, and I have since college. I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time and I know that is stupid because we’ve been apart for a couple of years but I still do. And Katie just joked about asking you out, I think she was joking but I know that I need to share this with you because someone will come and make you fall in love with them and then I will lose my shot.” She takes a deep breath before continuing, not leaving room for you to respond just yet. “Actually, to be totally honest, I think I'm in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me. You are such a good friend, and we are teammates of course. I don’t want to lose the connection that we have, and..” That’s when you put your hands on her shoulders and stop her. “Hey Less, look at me, please.” Her eyes nervously meet yours. She was met with eyes filled with adoration. “I feel the same way. I had a crush on you in college, and I thought that I had moved on from it when we graduated but none of my relationships ever felt right. It didn’t click until I saw you here on my first day at Arsenal, I have been in love with you since our college years too, Less.” 

Alessia’s smile grew wider the longer you spoke, until finally you were done with your sentence and she crashed her lips onto yours. It was an eager kiss at first, both having wanted to kiss the other for such a long time but the kiss quickly turned softer, wanting this long awaited moment last. When you pulled away from the kiss, cheers and whistles were heard from the entrance of the gym, you looked over your shoulder to see a group of Arsenal girls had formed in front of the door. You roll your eyes at them, before taking Alessia’s hand and heading back to the gym. The girls started patting the both of you on the back, “Seriously?” You laugh at their antics. 

During the rest of your gym session you keep letting your eyes trail over to Alessia, smiling when your eyes meet hers. Your cheeks warm at the thought of her lips on yours, luckily your cheeks were already red from training, otherwise the team would for sure tease you for it. Not that you would really mind the teasing though, you were just happy to finally have your feelings for Alessia out in the open and reciprocated, and couldn’t wait to get out of training. 

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[thiswaytwoinfinity]

it’s a bad idea, right? - part 1: can’t two people reconnect

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader • inspired by sleeping with other people

Warnings: no use of y/n or physical description of reader except they have hair that can be tucked behind their ears, implied smut, this chapter is fine but future installments will be 18+

It’s finally here! Thank you to everyone for being so supportive and patient about this fic; I was dealing with some rough personal stuff and lost all my inspiration but it’s back now and I’m happy to be writing about everyone’s favorite cocky flyboy.

There’s something about a sticky summer night when you’re 22 that makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been.

It’s the third bar that your new roommates have dragged you to tonight, there’s a cocktail sweating in your hand and the bass from the stereo thudding through your head. You’re not sure if the grin on your face is from the watching all of the wannabe cowboys go flying off the mechanical bull in mere milliseconds or from the possibilities of newfound adulthood laid out in front of you. In this moment, it’s hard to imagine that you were ever scared about moving halfway across the country — away from your family, your hometown and your high school sweetheart who always thought you’d move home after college — to Austin.

In this moment, you feel free. You feel invincible. You feel like this is a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

 

“Okay, the bar is a madhouse but I managed to get another round!” Anna shouts as she makes her way back to the table, tossing her long dark hair behind her before plopping the tray of shots down in front of you and your new friends. “And there’s a new rule!”

Everyone groans in unison; Anna loves to make up drinking games, handing out shots and beers with a new rule or bet that is guaranteed to leave someone embarrassed before the night’s over.

“Oh, stop. Shit like this is how we become lifelong best friends, trust me, I read about it online,” she fires back, rolling her eyes and handing shots to you and the three other girls at the table before taking one in hand. “It’s simple. Last one to finish their shot has to ride the mechanical bull.”

“Bitch, are you trying to kill us?” Erin asks, shooting a sideways glance at Katie, who’s eyeing up her shot glass like she’s trying to strategize the best way to drink it. The two of them are sisters — “Irish twins, it’s a whole thing,” Erin explained when you first moved in — are hyper-competitive and curse like sailors. You loved them instantly.

Your tiny hope of not being the one to end up on the bull dies when you look over at Taylor, who managed to throw back her tequila when nobody was watching. “What?!” she asks, curls bobbing in the bun on top of her head as she takes in everyone’s looks of confusion and frustration. “Anna never said we had to start at the same time.”

It’s like a starting pistol went off at the end of her sentence because before you know it, Erin and Katie are both biting into limes while Anna is swallowing down the liquor with a grimace. Shit.

You do your best to catch up but it’s too late. You, the girl who grew up nowhere near Texas and have never actually seen a bull in real life, are going to have to ride one in front of this entire bar.

Years later you won’t remember the details of the bet, how your friends whooped and hollered as you made your way over to the bull with shaky knees or how the operator took pity on you when you immediately slid off and offered you a second try. The song that was playing is lost to time, as is the actual feeling of riding the bull for a whole half second.

What you will remember, though, is sliding across the tarp to rest right by a group of athletic looking guys and the strong, tan hand that reached down to help you stand up.

You’ll remember the backwards Longhorns cap on his head, the way his green eyes flashed with amusement and the blinding white of his smile as he helped you to your feet, hand lingering just a moment too long in yours. You’ll remember the way it felt like someone had set off fireworks inside of you, fingers tingling where they touched his skin and your stomach swooping like you were on a roller coaster.

You’ll remember exactly what he said to you: “Well, that was definitely the most entertaining attempt of the night.”

You giggled, a little dazed by his chiseled features, by the way he seemed to only see you in that moment, by the force of his charisma.

 “I’m Jake. What’s your name, beautiful?”

 

For a Thursday night, the Hard Deck was surprisingly packed.

The Daggers had managed to claim their usual spot by the pool table, but despite their cramped quarters they practically had to shout over the sounds of drunken sailors and the oldies blasting out of the jukebox to be heard. The table next to Bob was crowded with beer bottles, the bespectacled WSO having waved off Penny when she stopped by to clear them, promising the group would clean up after themselves. Natasha and Bradley were in the middle of some kind of dumb darts competition, being heckled by Bob and a tipsy Rueben, who had his arm slung around the former’s shoulders for balance.

Jake took in the scenery, smug grin on his face, before sinking his final pool ball with a flourish.

“And that’s game, gentlemen,” he said, turning to Javy and Mickey, who were shaking their heads with frustration.

“Can’t believe I let you talk me into betting against him,” Mickey sighed, shuffling through his wallet for a $20 bill. Javy just shrugged and threw a playful punch against his friend’s shoulder, before asking for a rematch.

“Let that be a lesson, Fanboy,” Jake chuckled, making a big show of examining the bill before pocketing it. “Never bet against Jake Seresin. They call me a golden boy for a reason.”

“Who’s ‘they?’ Everyone we know just calls you a dick,” Nat called out, making her way back to the table for her drink. Taking a look at the chaos on the table, she rolled her eyes before starting to gather up a handful of empty bottles. “C’mon, Fanboy. Help me clear some of these and I’ll buy you a beer to drown your sorrows in.”

He ran over to help, allowing Javy to slide over to Jake and elbow his buddy in the side.

“10 o’clock, there’s a whole table of pretty ladies. The blonde’s had her eye on you all night and her friend with the locs is crazy hot,” he murmured, as Jake took a subtle look over at the table in question. 5 or 6 women were crammed into a booth, and judging by the tiara on one of their heads, they were out celebrating a birthday. “Wingman?” the younger aviator asked, holding out his fist for Jake to bump it.

For a half second, he contemplated turning his best friend down.

It wasn’t like Jake wasn’t attracted to the blonde, who was, indeed making eyes at him from across the room. She was exactly his type, all bright smiles and smokey bedroom eyes, her curves and long legs poured into tight jeans. She had an air of confidence that made it clear she knew just how hot she was.

He knew that if he strolled over and gave her his best All-American smile and some of that Southern charm, he could probably win her over. They’d flirt and dance a bit and then he’d drive them back to one of their places, have some decent-to-excellent sex and he’d be asleep shortly after midnight.

It seemed fun. It seemed obvious. It seemed, quite honestly, a little boring to him.

Maybe it was because he turned 35 a few months ago and the idea of going home to his own bed after a night out was starting to seem more and more appealing to him. Maybe it was because he spent so much time trying to convince his fellow Daggers that he wasn’t a complete asshole that he didn’t want to risk them changing their minds again.

Or maybe he was just a little jealous.

Jake would see the way Rueben’s face lit up when he talked about his wife, how he would brag about every milestone his 3-year-old daughter was reaching. He felt awkward about his lack of wedding knowledge when a pink-eared Bob would ask the squad for their opinion on something for his upcoming nuptials. He’d try to ignore the weird sinking feeling in his stomach when he’d overhead Nat and Mickey picking out a restaurant for their weekly brunch double date with their respective girlfriends.

And despite the fact that he had spent most of his adult life doing whatever he could to avoid those kinds of situations, now he was starting to wonder if maybe … maybe he’d be a little happier if he had been able to settle down with someone of his own.

Oof. That thought made Jake’s chest tighten uncomfortably. So he pushed it down, smiled as wide as he could and first bumped Javy. “Wingmen for life, Coyote. Lead the way.”

 

If you had to spend one more minute squeezed up against this bar, wedged between a couple aggressively making out and a trio of rowdy Navy men who were trying to sing along to Queen, you were going to scream.

“Just come for a drink or two. This place is super chill for a Navy bar, I promise,” you muttered darkly under your breath, repeating the words your friend and new coworker had used to convince you to come out tonight.

Between a frantic weekend spent unpacking all of your belongings into your new studio apartment and a very long first week at your new job, all you had wanted to do was bury yourself under a blanket and watch Real Housewives until your brain melted out of your ears.

But you were trying to be more social. You wanted to focus more on your friendships. Do things that were good for you. That was the whole point of this move.

So instead, you were leaning so far over the bar top that you could feel the edge digging into your ribs, shouting a drink order at the (admittedly, very sweet and slightly overwhelmed) bartender. She had just placed the two beers and margarita you had asked for down in front of you when another hand appeared and tried to snatch them up.

“Hey!” you yelled, tossing the bills in your hand onto the bar as you reached up to catch the offender by the wrist before they made off with your hard-won drinks. “Asshole! Drop them, those are my beers! What the fuck?”

You swiped up the cocktail with your free hand, lest it meet the same fate and turned around to see what kind of absolute monster thought they had the right to steal drinks.

Annoyingly, he was beautiful.

Tall and broad, with sun-kissed skin and a blindingly-white smile, which held a hint of sheepishness as he realized that he had been caught red handed. There was something familiar about the way he ducked his head a little, before peering at you from beneath his eyelashes.

“Sorry about that, ma’am. I thought those were mine. Didn’t mean to steal from you,” his low, twangy drawl went right through you, settling warm and comfortingly in your stomach. “I’d offer to buy you a drink to make it up to you, but, well …”

Texas. That’s where that accent is from, you thought, instantly being transported back to your nursing school program in Austin. How many wannabe cowboys had spoken with that same drawl, trying to charm you and your friends during a night out? Not too many of them had succeeded with you, especially not after —

“Jake? Jake Seresin!?”

It had to be him. You’d know that smile anywhere, had seen those green eyes in your dreams for far too long after you both had moved on. He was bigger now, muscles more pronounced and jaw more defined, more of those cheeky smile lines creasing around his eyes. His voice was deeper too, some of his accent smoothed out after years in the military, but it had to be.

He swore under his breath, eyes widening as he made the connection as well. He practically whispered your name, as if it felt a bit rusty on his tongue, but the second you nodded, he repeated it louder, warmer, like he was slipping back into his favorite jacket.

“Shit, how long’s it been?” Jake wondered aloud, looking you up and down as if to make a note of every infinitesimal change that had occurred since you last saw each other. “You look amazing, darling. Beautiful as ever.”

You rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment. Jake always had a way of making you feel like the most special person in the room — but then again, he made everyone feel that way, as you later found out. “You look good too, Seresin. Like a proper, respectable Navy man,” you concede, though the words don’t sound nearly as begrudging as you hoped.

You’re rewarded with one of those thousand-watt grins and for a second, you’re back in a Texas dive bar, flirting with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen to the tune of some cheesy country-rap remix.

“I am good,” Jake promises, eyes locked on yours, and you think he might be back there with you, leaning up against the jukebox, the floors sticky under your feet. “I don’t know how respectable I am, but I am definitely good.”

His voice drags out that sentence, low and flirtatious, and butterflies fill your stomach the same way they did all those years ago. You can practically feel the ghost of his big hands on your hips, your lower back, caressing your cheek as the world disappeared around you that night, just the two of you creating your own little world in the corner of that dingy bar. Your lips part — to say what, exactly, you’re not sure — and you see his eyes drop to them for just a moment before —

The woman behind the bar calls out “Hangman!” with a tone of voice that makes it clear that it’s not the first time she’s said it and you both startle and turn to see her holding four bottles of beer out towards Jake, a look of exhaustion on her face. He jumps forward to take them, apologies pouring from his lips and he pointedly shoves several bills into the tip jar in order to earn an eye roll and a small smile from her. Two sweating bottles in each hand, he turns back to you and almost seems a bit relieved that you’re still standing there. (As if you’ve ever been able to walk away from him.)

“I have to drop these off with my friends,” Jake says, nodding to a table somewhere behind you, “And you should probably get those drinks to the people who sent you over here. But do — do you wanna catch up? There’s a deck out back with some tables, it’s usually pretty quiet this time of night.” He waits for you to nod, before pressing a quick kiss to your cheekbone. “I’ll meet you in five minutes.”

With one more charming smile, he’s off into the crowd and — not for the first time in your life — you’re left speechless and a little stunned, staring after Jake Seresin.

 

You’re not sure if the goosebumps on your arms are from the chill of the California evening or the way that Jake hasn’t stopped staring at you since he joined you outside on the deck. You shift slightly against the wooden bench of the picnic table, overwhelmed by the intensity of having all of the blonde’s attention on you again for the first time in a decade.

“So …” you begin, and your voice seems to startle Jake out of his thoughts slightly. “You’re a California boy now? I never thought you’d ever leave Texas.”

He grins and shakes his head slightly. “Well, when Top Gun calls and offers you a permanent station, you’d be a fool not to accept. And not to brag, but they do only offer that to the best of the best.”

“Please, Seresin. You love to brag,” you fire back, watching those green eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Well, it’s not bragging if it’s the truth. And the truth is, darling, that I am one hell of a pilot.” Jake takes a swig from his beer, before leaning a bit closer into you, like he wants to study your reactions. “What about you? What brings you out to sunny San Diego?”

“New job,” you say shortly, shrugging your shoulders as nonchalantly as possible. “Moved from the ICU to the ED, so I figured a change of location would go well with a change of pace.”

Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and you hope he can’t tell. There’s no reason to tell your ex — boyfriend? Fling? — whatever that you followed a guy out here, especially since that whole — relationship? Affair? Complete and utter heartbreaking disaster? — situation crashed and burned almost immediately.

“Mmhmm,” Jake says, as if he can tell that’s not the whole story, and he takes another sip before seemingly deciding to let you off the hook. “And what did you boyfriend have to say about moving halfway across the country? Or did someone manage to finally lock you down after all these years?”

There’s a small, sinking feeling in your stomach as you think about the real reason you moved here for a brief, heartbreaking second.

“No boyfriend. No husband, either,” you say, wiggling your left hand at him in order to illustrate your point, and clock the way his eyes almost look relieved by the sight of your empty finger. “What about you, Seresin? Where’s your sweet, Southern wife?”

He laughs, a little cocky but a little hollow at the same time. “You know I don’t really do commitment, darlin’,” he jokes and, boy, do you, nights of watching him flirt with other girls while you pouted in the corner of the bar flashing in your brain. You take a long swallow of your beer — just like you used to swallow down your pride back then — and roll your eyes at him.

“I swear, you look exactly the same when you roll your eyes like that,” Jake says, his smile softening around the edges. “Nobody ever managed to make it quite as cutting as you.”

“Nobody’s ever been quite as annoying as you,” you fire back, but there’s no real heat behind it. Jake’s eye light up like you just gave him a compliment rather than pointing out that he knew exactly how to press your buttons when you were younger.

“I seem to remember you used to like it when I was able to make your eyes roll. Or, at least, when I could make them roll back into your head …”

You sigh, doing your best not to let on how much that comment made your face heat with decade-old memories of you two tangled up in your sheets. “There it is …” you begin, but he just leans into you a little more, those green eyes traveling all over your face as he speaks.

“I’m just reminiscing, that’s all. Can ya blame me? You’re still so beautiful …” Jake responds, one hand reaching out to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear. His fingers brush against your cheek as he pulls away and you hope you can explain away the goosebumps that erupt on your skin as a product of the ocean breeze. “And I spent a lot of time trying to get you all worked up back then. Force of habit.”

You could give into it.

Allow the sheer force of Jake’s charisma and good looks to carry you away on a wave of old memories. The chemistry that always fizzled between you is clearly still there, the butterflies that have laid dormant in your stomach all this time just waiting for an excuse to be let free once again. It would be easy.

And it would be good — you two had always been good at the physical stuff. He was so gorgeous in so many ways and surprisingly generous when you were in bed. (Jake always took pride in being the best of the best, after all).

But once you woke up tomorrow morning, after all of the awkward goodbyes and the promises to call, then what? Jake Seresin doesn’t commit; he made that clear.

And you were still bruised from your last mess of a relationship, your heart feeling tender and aching in your chest most days. There’s no way that this doesn’t end the same way it did a decade ago, with you sobbing uncontrollably and Jake moving on to the next beautiful girl who manages to hold his attention.

So, with a self-control you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull yourself out of Jake’s undertow.

“Seresin, I … that’s probably a bad idea,” you say softly, eyes dropping down to the tabletop in between you. “I just got out of a relationship and I’m not in a place —”

He cuts you off by tilting your chin up to look at him and then making a point to pull his hands back and keep them to himself.

“Hey, hey, I get it. No worries. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, darlin’” Jake explains in a rush. “I’m sorry about that. Like I said, force of habit.”

You huff out a laugh and another eye roll and you can see him fight a grin at your reaction. “Only you would describe flirting with someone as a habit, Jake.”

“Well, I’m one of a kind.”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you giggle, glad to be back on solid, friendly ground with him.

 Two hours later, Jake sent you off with a hug and his phone number as you and your friend climbed into an Uber and set off for home. She had a few questions about the “dreamboat” of a Naval aviator that you had apparently dated back in school, but was a little too excited about recounting her own evening to push you for details. It wasn’t until you arrived back at your apartment and collapsed on your couch that you realized Jake had been texting you the whole time you were in the car.

Unknown: It’s Jake 🫡😜🤠⭐️🍻🏈😉

Unknown: Hope you get home safe, beautiful. It was great to catch up with you.

Unknown: And I would be an embarrassment to the U.S. Navy if I didn’t at least offer to be your tour guide around San Diego

Unknown: I know all the best spots after all

Unknown: So text me if you want to grab lunch or something

Unknown: Or if you finally want to learn how to surf

Unknown: But give me fair warning beforehand, I remember how bad your balance is lol

 

You: lol I forgot you text every single thought in your brain

You: but having a tour guide sounds nice

You: we could get brunch this weekend and you can give me the highlights?

 

You had only just begun to take your shoes off, resigned to finally get off the couch, when your phone pinged.

 

Jake 🤠 🧡: I know just the place

You gave his text a quick thumbs up and got ready for bed smiling the whole time.

-—-—-—-—-—

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! I don’t know if I’m going to have a regular schedule with this or anything, but I will do my best! Thank you for reading about the absolute menace that is Jake Seresin

Tagging some people who asked:

@tvshowgirl81 @redbarn1995 @stoneyggirl @keepingitlokiii @averyhotchner @dizzybee03 @olliepig @lynnevanss @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem @mamaskillerqueen @kmc1989 @hookslove1592

[lovetowee]

Mommy Knows Best (Pt. 1?)

- For a friend, per their request - @unpottytrainedtboy

By: MrMister

“I think you should wear one,” I said sternly looking at my girlfriend.

            “I’m fine. There will be no issues. I’m an adult. I do not need to wear one of those.” She was referring to the pack of diapers I held in my hand.

            “Well you’ve been having accidents lately, and I’d rather not risk it going to Tiff and Logan’s tonight.” Her cheeks flushed bright red as her eyes dropped to the floor. She knew I was right.

            “It hasn’t happened very often,” she protested in a pouty voice.

            “You’ve wet the bed three times. You’ve even had daytime wetting accidents. Twice, I believe, you wet your pants. Not to mention that one time you pooped yourself.”

            “It wasn’t my fault,” she mumbled sadly. Katie was my girlfriend. She was younger than me by two years. I was twenty-six and she was twenty-four. I was the one who ‘wore the pants’ in the relationship. Little did she know that her accidents were mainly due to my influence. I’ve always had a thing for humiliating others. And nothing brought someone lower than watching them have an accident in public. I had been slipping laxatives and diuretics into her food and drinks for the past few weeks. On top of that I did things like take her on long drives. Or I had even drugged her with sleeping pills so she wouldn’t wake up when she needed to, resulting in an accident. The more she started to believe it, the more she mentally began to lose control.

            We were going to our friend’s house for the evening for some drinks. She didn’t know that tonight she was going to have a major accident. I offered her a diaper so that she might have some dignity. Even if she steadfastly refused to wear the diaper tonight, she was having the accident one way or the other. She could have it in a diaper, or in her pants.

            I had been working on weakening her control slowly. I finally believed she was losing muscle strength in her bladder and bowels. In the beginning when I spiked her food and drink with laxatives she easily made it to the washroom in time. Now, she was barely making it. I did the laundry in our house and I could see the brown skid marks in her underwear as proof. Her bladder was in real bad shape, she was actually wetting the bed unassisted most times.

            “Look, I know it’s not your fault. But you’ll feel a lot better if you’re protected.”

            “But it’s crinkly, they’ll notice,” she whined.

            “I made sure to get the discreet kind. I promise no one will notice them.”

            “Please, I promise I’ll be good.”

            I knew she wouldn’t. “Last chance: if you have an accident would you rather you soak your pants, or have it hidden in a diaper? Then I can just come home and change you in secret. No one will know.”

            “Fine,” she said resigned. She knew who the boss was in our relationship.

            We had a few hours before we were going to head over. Only thing I had to make was dinner before we left. I was making Katie’s favorite: Chicken noodle soup and garlic bread – although her soup would have a little something extra in it. So we just hung out for the afternoon enjoying each other’s company. Soon the sun started to sink and I began dinner. It didn’t take too long before everything was ready. I poured the soup in bowls, and the garlic bread on two little plates. Then I added the special ingredients to her soup: a diuretic and a very strong laxative. I planned the doses so that hopefully they would take effect while we were at Tiffany and Logan’s.

            I walked out and gave her the food. “Thank you, my Love,” she said. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and went back into the kitchen to grab my own. We ate quietly and watched TV together. After we finished I gathered the dishes and told her to start getting ready.

            “Make sure your diaper is on,” I yelled as she headed to our room. “And make sure you go pee before we leave.”

            “I will,” she said annoyed. I was smiling to myself while I washed the dishes. Tonight was going to be so much fun. Katie really had no idea. Poor thing. Once done with the dishes I went upstairs to get ready. Katie was checking herself out in the mirror when I entered our room. She wore a tight pair of jeans and a nice red shirt. Her hair was shoulder length and auburn. She was so cute, I just wanted her to be my baby forever.

            “Can you tell I’m wearing a diaper?” she asked. I walked over and pulled her shirt up. I looked down at her butt and was genuinely surprised I couldn’t tell at all. That was excellent, she would feel more confident. I wrapped my arms around her from behind. I kissed the back of her neck. My hands played with the front of her jeans feeling the padding beneath that covered her. She moaned a little as I caressed her.

            “I cannot see anything, You will be fine. Plus,” I said letting go of her, “you said you’d be a big girl tonight. So it’s just a precaution.”

            “Yeah, I’m staying dry tonight.” I chuckled quietly to myself as I finished getting ready. Within the hour we were ready and in the car. The ride was only about fifteen minutes across town. So I started the engine and we were off.

            We had barely started our trip when I could see Katie slightly fidgeting out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t believe the diuretic was already taking effect. I watched her a little more before stirring the pot. “You okay, Darling?” She just stared out the window trying to hide from my question. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

            “Is there anywhere we can quickly stop?” she asked in a little voice.

            “Why?” I wanted to make her say it out loud.

            “I really, really, have to pee,” she whimpered.

            “I told you to go before we left.”

            “I did!” she turned to me protesting, “You know I went before we left.” It was true I had seen her go into the washroom. And I had heard her successfully go pee at home.

            “Well, we’re five minutes from Tiff’s place you can go when we get there.” She had no idea it was completely out of her control. She was noticeably squirming now. Her hands were jammed between her legs. Finally as we turned onto the right street I hear my favorite sound: a small whimper.

            “Oh no,” she whispered. I pulled into the driveway, and parked the car. I looked over at Katie whose head was hung low. I knew what was happening.

            “I knew the diaper was a good idea. Finish going pee, then we’ll go in.” I turned the car off so I could hear the faint hiss of urine as she finished. We sat quietly in the car for a few minutes.

            “Can I take it off?” she turned to look at me, her eyes wet with tears. I smiled reassuringly but ultimately said, no.

            “Melissa please,” she whined, “it’s all swollen they will see.” I reached over and felt the front of her pants.

            “I cannot feel anything,” I said, undoing my seat belt. “You’ll be fine. If that is the only accident tonight, no one will be able to tell.”

            “Please just let me take it off. I’ll be good, I promise.”

            “No, let’s go,” I said firmly. “You had an accident like a toddler and you can stay in it.” I got out of the car and she slowly followed me. I grabbed her hand as we walked to the front door. I rang the doorbell and whispered, “You’ll be fine, Love.” Tiffany answered the door and ushered us in.

            “Hey guys, so glad to see you,” she said hugging me. “Logan they’re here!” She gave Katie a hug too. We took our shoes off and followed her into the house. Tiffany wore a very attractive dress. She had tan skin and very dark hair. Katie was very cute and that’s why I loved her. Tiffany was like a model. She had big breasts and a well toned butt. But she wasn’t my type. She was just too sexy for my likings. I didn’t like strong women, like Tiff, I preferred the quiet ones like Katie whom I could control a little more easily. And it didn’t matter anyway because Tiffany was straight.

            The kitchen was loaded with snacks: meat, cheese and veggies. Logan and Tiff were well off so they always supplied everything when we came over to visit. I could see the TV room, the football game was on and Logan was standing in front watching.

            “Here,” Tiffany said handing us each a glass of wine. “Logan come say hello.” Katie and Tiff started up a conversation as Logan came over to me with a beer in one hand.

            “Hey Gals, how are things?”

            “Great,” I said happily, “Katie just got a promotion at her job.”

            “Oh that’s amazing!” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “Tiffany is still hunting for a better job.”

            “Oh my God,” Tiff spoke up, “I cannot stand working for my new boss, he’s such a dick. Ever since he started my whole job has just sucked.” We all just shot the shit for a while. We sipped our drinks, and snacked on snacks. Tiffany was my friend from High School. That is where she had met Logan. They had gotten married early and they’ve always done well for themselves. They were a bit basic in my opinion. They’re the type of people who think ‘Doggy Style’ was something that was hot and exciting. I was also pretty sure Logan had a crush on me. Even though he knew that I was playing for the other team.

            Eventually we started playing cards. Logan bounced between that and the football game. We all talked about our lives and caught up on all we had missed in the last few weeks. I kept feeding Katie drinks in the hope it would make her more forgetful. I stopped drinking because I said I had to drive, but that wasn’t the real reason. I wanted to be alert for when what I hoped would happen, happened.

            We snacking again and Tiff was telling me all about her horrible boss when Katie stood up and announced she was going to the washroom. I cut her off and kissed her quickly whispering, “Your diaper better stay on.” She nodded.

            She hugged me and said, “I’m just going pee, honest. I told you I would be okay.” I couldn’t smell anything out of the ordinary and there were no wet spots on her pants from a second accident. Her bladder must not have been as weak as I hoped, much to my dismay. I went back and continued my conversation with Tiffany.

            In a few minutes Katie was back. She came over and stood by me. I wrapped my arms around her back. I looked like I just had my arm around her waist, but my fingers played with the waist of her jeans. Yes, I felt the diaper. She had not removed it. Not that I cared if she did, it would just be more of a mess in her pants. How silly of me, I thought rubbing her back now. She had nowhere to throw the diaper away. She had to keep it on. Katie poured herself another drink. Her cheeks were red since she was starting to get drunk.

            Logan’s football game finally ended and he came over to chat, his attention no longer divided. He told me about this idea he had for a business. It sounded similar to an idea I had. So we were talking avidly about that while Katie and Tiff were engrossed in a topic I couldn’t quite make out. I was watching Katie, lost in her conversation, and sipping her drink. Every now and then her hand casually moved over her tummy. The laxatives were having an effect, I thought happily to myself. I was hoping Katie was too distracted to notice her growing urge. Even if she slightly noticed the urge she had difficulty pooping at other people’s houses. So I bet she would try to stall as long as possible.

            Katie and Tiff came over, and all four of us were all eagerly chatting. I was contributing but I didn’t know what I said because I was watching and hoping.

            Then, mid conversation, it happened.

            Katie’s stomach and bowels made a loud, audible gurgle. She stopped talking as her eyes opened wide. The sounds from her were quite obvious and everyone had stopped talking now, in shock. We could hear wet, messy sounds as her bowels emptied themselves into her diaper. I could just imagine the warm mess spreading between her cheeks. I could tell she was trying to stop herself but the laxatives were too strong. And with a final bubbly, squish sound she was done. Silence and a smell began to waft around the kitchen. Katie’s eyes watered and she rushed off to the washroom, hiding her face.

            “Is she okay?” Tiff asked. Logan just looked disgusted.

            “I better go check,” I excused myself. I was probably the only person at the moment who was ecstatic. I was over the moon. Everything had gone perfectly. I could feel my panties getting damp with arousal. But I had to play this well. I needed to get her home and comfort her. When I was all she had, she would be my baby.

            I knocked on the door, “It’s me.” I could hear her crying as she unlocked the door. I got in, closed the door and gave her a hug. “It’s okay,” I soothed, “it’s okay. Just breathe.” She cried into my shoulder. I was so turned on. It was her embarrassment – plus the smell of her mess – really had me soaked. This wasn’t about me though, not yet at least.

            “Honey, I’m going to tell them you’re sick and not feeling well.” She rubbed some tears from her eyes, but nodded. “You stay here, and when I come back we’ll go right to the car. Okay?” She nodded again.

            I left the bathroom, once again closing the door behind me. Logan and Tiffany were whispering heatedly as I approached the kitchen. They stopped as I got near.

            “So is she okay?” Tiff asked again.

            “She’s not feeling well, maybe a little too much to drink,” I explained. “We’re just going to head home.”

            “I hope she feels better soon,” Tiff added. I could tell she didn’t care. Her and Logan were too normal to really be able to handle something like this.

            “Of course,” I said, “sorry. Thanks for the the great night. We’ll just let ourselves out.” With that I turned to go. Neither of them followed to see us out. I could make out Logan saying, “She shit her pants, that’s so gross.” It didn’t faze me; I had what I came for.

            I knocked on the bathroom door and ushered her out. She was still crying with her head hung low. Outside we went and got into the car. Tiff and Logan would probably never invite us back, but who needed Normies? Katie stood outside of the car with the door open, staring at the seat.

            “Come on Katie-bear, hop in.”

            “But, but,” she protested through tears.

            “it cannot get any worse, Honey. Just get in and get it over with. The sooner we’re home the sooner I can clean you up.” She slowly got in the car, trying to put as little weight as she could on the mess in her diaper. But it was a losing battle. She looked mortified as her dirty bum mush have squished all around her diaper. She started to cry again as soon as the door was closed. I pulled out of the driveway. The smell of her accident was very obvious in our small car.

            “Well, aren’t you glad you wore the diaper?”

            “I guess,” she sniffled.

            “At least your pants didn’t get ruined.”

            “But now Tiff and Logan think I’m a disgusting baby.”

            “No they don’t,” I reassured her.

            “Yes they do. Plus I smell gross and I feel gross. And I’m a grown woman who just shit her pants.” She continued crying and I loved every second of it. “I don’t even care anymore.” I didn’t quite know what she meant by that last comment, but soon in the passing street lights I could make out a dark spot growing on the front of her jeans. She was peeing again, and not even trying to hold it. The diaper was too full from her previous wetting and it had begun to leak. “Since everyone thinks I’m a baby, I’ll just potty in my pants like a baby.” I hoped she was serious, but she also was quite drunk, so maybe it was that. Either way whether she accepted it or not she was going to be using diapers the rest of her life.

            “Katie you’re beautiful and I love you. I’m always here for you. I don’t think you’re a baby. You’re strong, independent, and you’re my big girl. It’s okay to have accidents every now and again.”

            “Really?” she asked, her tears starting to finally dry.

            “Who cares if you shit yourself, it happens to the best of people.” She was quiet. “You don’t know this but Tiff wet herself at a party when we were sixteen. It can happen to anyone.”

            “Okay,” she mumbled, “I love you.” Her tears had dried and she just stared out the window. We got home and pulled into our driveway. I turned the car off and got out. Lucky for her it was dark, so even if our neighbors were out no one would be able to see anything. Katie got out of the car and slowly waddled to the front door. I could tell she did not like the feeling of her dirty bum.

            “Wait for me upstairs,” I commanded. She knew where to go to get changed. This obviously wasn’t the first time.

            Alright, I thought to myself, time to take this thing home! I went to the covered where I had hid a few things for a moment like this. I removed them from their packaging and got everything ready before I heading upstairs and dealing with my very wet, very messy baby girl.

            I set the items down where she couldn’t see. I grabbed the wipes, baby powder, and a fresh diaper. She was already laying on the floor with her clothes off. I had trained her well.

            “You had some trouble tonight, Sweetie. So we’re going to put you in another diaper for bed.” She didn’t fight me this time, she just looked at me and nodded. I undid the sides of her diaper and opened it up. Her whole bum was covered in poop. The whole diaper was a wet, brown mess. Her perfectly shaved vagina was also covered from when she had sat on her dirty bum. She really looked like a two-year-old who had just had a blowout. Her hands covered her face in embarrassment. As if hiding would make the mess and shame disappear.

            “At least your tummy is happy now, with all that yuck out,” I reassured as I pat her belly gently. “It would have been all over your nice panties if you weren’t in diapers. Then you’d feel really little.” I grabbed some wipes and started to get to work. I began with her butt cheeks that were caked in warm poop. I wiped and wiped and slowly her cheeks were white once more. I was cleaning her little butt hole when she started to whimper.

            “Mel,” she said in a tiny voice.

            “Yes, Honey,” I said. My hand stopped cleaning her.

            “My tummy is grumbly again.” Her eyes were wet with tears again.

            “You have to potty again?” She nodded. “Okay,” I said and quickly slipped a fresh diaper under her partially cleaned bum and taped it up. “Mommy is here, you get all the yuckies out.”

            “Okay, Mommy,” she responded. She stopped looking at me and turned to face the wall. I was happy these laxatives were still doing their job. I hadn’t even finished cleaning the first mess and she was about to go for round two! Before she started her business I walked over and grabbed one of the items from the table. I walked back over and popped the pacifier into her mouth. She took it without protest and began to suck on it quietly. Through the sucking I could hear her pushing as she wetly went potty into her fresh diaper. I watched it bulge out as her bubbly, farty mess poured out of her. I just wanted to stick my face down there. It sounded like another soft mess. A couple more pushes and some noise between her legs, and she must have finally finished.

            “All done,” she said sounding childish talking with a soother in her mouth.

            “For sure this time?” I asked in my stern Mommy voice. “Don’t have to pee again?” she shook her head. “And no more poops?” Head shake again. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll clean you up. Just enjoy your pacifier.”

            So once again I undid her diaper. Her mess was a lot creamier and it smelled very bad this time around, not that I wasn’t turned on. Katie was holding her nose as I started to clean her butt cheeks again. I got her pale cheeks nice and clean for the second time. I made sure in between the cheeks and her butt hole were spotless. Finally I cleaned up her vagina, making sure to clean her well to avoid infections. After I was done I gently teased her pussy lips. She moaned softly as I touched her. Then, before things got too out of hand, I covered her in baby powder and taped a new diaper on her.

            “Go get your onesie on, please.” Katie got up, still sucking her soother, and grabbed an orange fox onesie from the closet. She put it on and got in bed. She knew the drill. I brought the other item I had prepared over: a bottle of milk. I took the pacifier out of her mouth and she looked upset. I quickly handed her the bottle and she eagerly started drinking it. She closed her eyes.

            “Sleep tight, Angel,” I said kissing her forehead.

            “Good night, Mommy,” she said quietly. And I left her to sleep. I hoped she was embracing this lifestyle, and it wasn’t still the booze talking. Either way she was mine. I had spiked the milk with a sleeping pill, another light diuretic, and a basic laxative. She would have no idea. Hopefully she would wake up wet and messy. Then we could do this all again tomorrow.

            I smiled to myself, Mommy always got what she wanted.

[splendidreads]

Open Your Heart, Part 1

Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female OC

Word Count: 3,299

This first chapter is so long omg.

This first chapter has no warnings. Future chapters will include the following; Cursing, mentions of abuse, violence, weapons, smut, angst, fluff.. I will add more as needed!

Kind of a summary? Idk. I’m still thinking.

‘Arranged marriages are never easy. This one is no exception. Both sides will have to relearn their ways, and learn to trust each other. Bucky has all the love to give, but Katherine doesn’t know how to accept real love. She’s never been loved by anyone other than her best friend. Will she learn to open her heart, to New Yorks most notorious Mob Boss? Or is she too scared, that he’s just like everyone else?’

A/N; This is my FIRST Bucky story. As well as my first AU story. If this first part does well, I’ll keep on going. I’m incredibly beyond nervous about this. Constructive criticism welcome, but please be nice. Please re-post and comment :)

I do NOT give permission for my work to be copied and posted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. PLEASE just reblog if you want to share my story!!

Will happily start a tag list if anyone is interested!

✨Part 2 here✨

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty chilly out.”

Katherine tossed her keys onto her dresser as she held the phone between her ear and shoulder, flipping through the stack of mail in her hands.

“Perfect night for a book and hot chocolate.”

Katherine chuckled softly, “Sage, do you ever really need an excuse to do that?”

She could hear laughter on the other side of the phone, “Not really. But it’s the aesthetic!”

She rolled her eyes at her friend, humming softly as she sorted a few bills, until her eyes landed on an envelope that stood out. It was a deep, blood red color with a silver wax seal on it. Her name was written on it, so she didn’t hesitate to open it.

“Anything interesting?”

She hummed in response, “Possibly..”

Her fingers gently tugged the paper out from the envelope, her curiosity spiking. She unfolded the paper, and her eyes soon began to go over the words.

“Oh my god,” she gasped softly, a bit breathless, “Its him.. It’s a letter from HIM!”

As soon as she got the words out, her phone began chiming in her ear, signaling that Sage was converting the call to a video call. Katherine answered it, and propped the phone up on her dresser.

“Well, what did he say?” Sage looked at her curiously, “Its about the wedding, right?”

Katherine looked at the letter, and let out a soft breath.

“It says..”

“My Dearest Katherine,

I know that we’ve both been waiting for this moment, at least.. I know that I have. I wanted to give you the space you deserve, and to not rush you. If you’re ready for me, I’m here, and I’d like for you to come stay with me. I’ll take care of anything you need, or want, to make this transition easier and more comfortable. Just let me know when you’re ready.

Sincerely yours,

James Buchanan Barnes

My number: xxx-xxx-xxxx”

Both girls were silent for a moment. Katherine’s thoughts were overwhelmed by excitement, the moment she’d been waiting for was finally here.. While Sages thoughts were quite the opposite.

“The mob boss Bucky Barnes?!” Sage exclaimed, finally processing the words from the letter. “YOU'RE MARRYING A MOB BOSS?”

“Seems so..” Katherine grabbed the phone, and immediately put the number in, sending him a text.

“I don’t know Katie, this is.. Are you sure? You’ve heard all of the stories..”

Katherine rolled her eyes, “I can’t break the deal. It’s not mine to negotiate anyways..” she let out a soft sigh, “I know. I remember them, we’ve all heard the stories..”

Sage let out a long breath, worry written all over her face, “Well.. When do you think you want to go? I’m sure he’d understand if you wanted more time.”

Katherine bit the inside of her cheek, having already received a few text messages from him, “In a few hours.”

Sages face fell, “What?”

“He’s sending a driver over at 3,” She began moving around her room, and began the process of packing, “It’s not like I have much to pack anyways.”

“You already texted him? Katherine-“

Katherine shook her head, cutting her off, “You know how long I’ve been waiting for this. Yes, it’s.. Interesting.. Who he turned out to be.. But this is still my only chance to get out… A chance to be happy.”

As much as Sage wanted to argue, disagree, and try to talk her out of it.. She knew that she was right.

“If he can make you happy..” Sage let out a soft sigh, before a smile spread on her lips, “Make sure to tell me everything! I want to know what he’s like, what his house is like! I’ve heard it’s a huge mansion..”

As Sage began to go on and on about all the different rumors they’ve all heard about him, Katherine’s mind was occupied with other thoughts.

I hope I don’t disappoint him.

If I just keep my head down, and listen, I’m sure it’ll be fine.

I wonder if he’ll like me..

Will we be happy together?

“I bet the arm thing isn’t real. You know how mobs like to spread stories to scare people.”

Sage's last words made Katherine chuckle, “I suppose I’ll be finding out which rumors are true or not, hmm?”

“Yeah, you’ll have to let me know if his eyes are really that blue.” Sage let out a soft dreamy sigh, “I wonder what he really looks like. It seems to depend on who you ask.”

Katherine hummed softly, imagining the man as she packed, “Yeah, if they’re on his good side, or his bad side.”

Both girls chuckled a bit, continuing to talk about all the different possibilities that might happen. Katherine continued packing as they spoke, finding that she really didn’t have much to pack. She didn’t have many clothes, most of it being her work uniforms. A couple pairs of jeans, a few t-shirts (All of which had something to do with music), a single long sleeved shirt, and her oversized nightshirts. She only had three pairs of shoes; A pair of purple converse sneakers (which were on her feet), her black combat boots, and her work shoes. Thankfully, she still had her black dress and heels from when Sage forced her to get them. She could still hear Sages words from that day, ‘This dress would look killer on you, your curves will pop, and drive any man crazy!’ She had only tried the dress on once, never having an occasion to wear it. So, including the heels, she actually had four pairs of shoes.

Great.

A loud knock on the front door made both girls fall silent, but Sage was quick to realize.

“It’s three..”

Katherine sucked in a breath, nodding her head, “Okay… Okay. I’ll talk to you later, I promise!”

Sage sighed, nodding her head, “You’d better.. I’ll send a search party! Don’t forget your art bag!”

The call ended after the both girls said ‘I love you’, and Katherine made a beeline to the front door, bags in hand. She opened it to find a man, a bit older than her, with a nice suit on.

He offered a small smile, “Miss Connors?”

She nodded her head, “Yes sir.” Returning the smile, before realizing..

Dad.

She let out a soft sigh, “I have to do something really quick, then I’m ready.”

The man nodded his head, and reached for her bags, “I’ll take these, and meet you at the car.”

She turned on her heel, walking through the house. Her father was passed out in his recliner in the living room, a beer threatening to fall from his hand and onto the floor. Shaking her head at the sight, she decided to just leave him a note, instead of waking him.

‘Mr. Barnes finally reached out.

I accepted.

That’s where I’ll be when you wake up.’

She placed the note in front of the television, before walking back through the house. Grabbing her leather jacket, and her ‘art’ bag as Sage called it, she went out the front door. The man at the car gave her another smile, opening the back door for her. As she stepped in, she took one last look at the house, before nodding to herself and letting the man close the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The car ride was silent for the most part, the man asking her a few times if she was alright or if she needed anything. New York City seemed to disappear behind them as they went, the drive lasting about 20 minutes. Katherine’s eyes widened as the car rolled to a stop.. He really did have a mansion.

“Alright Miss. Connors.” The man got out of the car, as her eyes observed the large home. It was old, Victorian era old. Equal parts elegant, beautiful, and creepy. The driver, whom she had learned to be Joe, opened her door for her, offering a warm smile. She got out, and was greeted by a crisp breeze. She was glad to have her leather jacket on.

“Thanks for the ride.” She said to him, a small grin on her lips as she grabbed her bags.

“Anytime, ma’am. Mr. Barnes is my favorite client.”

She gave him a small nod before turning to walk towards the house. As she walked up the front steps,, the nerves finally began to break through. She took in a deep breath as she raised her fisted hand to knock, but the door opened in front of her, startling her.

“You must be Katherine!” An older woman, probably in her late 50s or so, gave her a wide grin.

“Yes ma’am, that’s me.” She returned the grin, trying to conceal her nerves.

“Come in, come in…” The woman motioned her inside, and as she stepped in, she closed the door. “I’m Annette, one of Mr. Barnes housekeepers.”

Katherine’s eyes wandered around the entryway, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Annette stood there, silent for a moment. As if she were allowing Katherine to study the home. “Mr. Barnes is currently in a meeting, so I’ll show you to your room!”

Katherine gave her a small smile, nodding her head to the woman. She followed along behind her, looking around as they went. It was pretty modern inside, compared to the old style of the outside. The first room was huge; a long fireplace along the far wall. It seemed to have been set up to hold guests, maybe for meetings or get-togethers. There were staircases on either side of the room, and they started the descent up the left side. Once at the top, she realized that both sides met on the same floor. There didn’t seem to be much personal touch in the home; No family photos in sight.

“Here we are, the last door on the left. The room on the right is an office area that he never uses, the other door on the left is another entrance into your bathroom. I usually keep it locked.”

Katherine blinked a few times, before hesitantly opening the door to the bedroom.. her eyes widened once again, seeing how large it was. It was almost like a suite at a hotel; having a lounge area with a couch, recliner and television. A wall separated that space from an area with a ginormous bed. It must’ve been a California king, she’d never seen a bed so large. As she walked around, Annette came in as well, opening the curtains.

“This door here is your closet,” she said as she turned the knob, revealing a walk in closet. “And over here is your bathroom.”

Katherine was shocked, her eyes trying to take in the massive space, “A-And this room… Is mine?”

Annette let out a soft chuckle, “Yes dear.”

Confusion then came across Katherine’s face, realizing that she and her future husband had separate rooms. Annette must’ve noticed this, because she offered a kind smile.

“Mr. Barnes is a good man, Katherine. He wanted you to have your own space, he didn’t want to pressure you into anything until you were ready.”

Katherine nodded slowly, setting her bags down on the foot of the bed- Her bed. She gave Annette a big grin, when the initial shock had finally subsided. She let out a giggle, doing a twirl as she took one long look at the room. Annette chuckled softly, watching the woman.

“It was overwhelming to me too, back in the day. I’d never seen such spacious rooms.” She shrugged her shoulders.

Katherine let out a long sigh, a smile tugging at her lips, “This is.. It is a lot. This room is half the size of my house!”

Both women chuckled for a moment, until there was a knock at the door. Katherine’s eyes moved to look at who it was, somehow knowing that it wasn’t him. A tall man leaned in the doorway, golden blonde hair that went just past his ears, and a neat beard on his face.

“Mr. Rogers.” Annette nodded her head toward him, giving him a small smile.

“Annette,” he returned the smile, then his eyes landed on Katherine, “So you’re the one who’s marrying my best friend.”

Katherine’s nerves slowly creeped their way back into her mind, nodding her head silently. She wasn’t sure what to say, her eyes flickering between the man and Annette.

He walked towards her, extending a hand, “I’m Steve.” He gave her a warm grin, and it helped settle her silly nerves.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, taking his hand and shaking it.

“I hope you’re finding everything to your liking. Buck sent me to extend his apologies, his meetings running later than expected.” Steve let out a soft sigh as their hands fell, “He wanted to greet you when you arrived.”

Katherine nodded her head, running a hand through her long brown hair, “It’s alright, I understand.” She shrugged, though secretly she was quite anxious and excited to finally set her eyes on him.

Steve’s eyes wandered around the room, before settling on her bags, “Are there more bags downstairs? I can go get them if you’d like.”

Katherine was slightly embarrassed, “Oh, uhm.. No.. That’s all I’ve got.”

Silent words seemed to be exchanged, Steve understanding the expression on her face. Katherine didn’t want to have to explain to anyone that she was dirt poor and didn’t have many possessions. Steve didn’t seem to want to press the issue.

“Well, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you around dear! Steve will take good care of you.” Annette gave them both a smile, before leaving the room.

Katherine let out a breath, before making a clicking sound with her tongue, “Welp,” she moved to start unpacking her bags, “I s’pose I’ll start unpacking while I wait.” She shrugged her shoulders, before letting out a soft chuckle. Her phone was going off in her pocket, and she knew who it was. She pulled the device out, to see text messages from Sage.

‘Everything good?’

‘Are you there yet??’

‘KATIE’

‘…Has he swooped you off your feet yet?’

‘DETAILS WOMAN!’

Katherine laughed, reading the messages. Steve quirked an eyebrow curiously, wondering what was going on. She looked over to him as she texted Sage back.

‘I haven’t met him yet! Just settling into my room. I’ll video call you before bed!’

“Oh, it’s just my best friend chomping at the bit. Sage is a very protective friend, and if I don’t answer, I’m sure she’d manage to find out where I am.”

Steve let out a soft chuckle, nodding his head, “Oh, I understand that.”

Katherine hummed softly, “I’m sure she’d like to see where I’m living now.. Do you think he’d be alright if she came over some time?” She looked at Steve, wondering what he thought. But Steve’s eyes were now on his own phone.

“You can ask him yourself,” he said, sliding the device back into his pocket, “He’s out of his meeting, and would like for me to escort you to his office.”

Katherine nodded her head slowly, “Uhm, then lead the way.”

Steve gave her a smile, before doing just that. He led her down the hallway, and back down the staircase. Her fingers began fumbling with the hem of her shirt, ‘The Andrews Sisters’ logo quite faded on the front of the old clothing. As she followed him through the house, her anxiety came creeping back into her mind. Thoughts of her mysterious suitor flooded her brain, wondering what their first interaction might be like. She was lost in her thoughts as Steve led her into a room, her eyes wandering around as she observed the new area. There were bookcases covering the walls, hundreds of books filling them. She smiled, looking at all the old covers. She could’ve sworn she had spotted an old copy of ‘Great Tales and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe’.

“Katherine?”

Her eyes snapped to where she had heard her name, and the nerves turned into butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Standing before her, leaning against a large wooden desk, was a man. Probably the most attractive man she’d ever laid eyes on. He had dark hair, a quiff of dark locks settled at the top. His eyes were an icy Blue, staring into her hazel brown orbs. He had quite the jawline, a short beard covering it. His arms were crossed against his chest, one of which seemed to reflect the light from the ceiling..

“H-Hi.” Was all she managed to squeak out, her eyes transfixed on him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he took a few long strides across the room, extending his flesh hand to her, “Bucky.” He flashed a toothy smile, and she felt her heart flutter.

It was him.

She took his hand, hoping he didn’t notice that hers was shaking. He gently clasped both of his hands around her much smaller one, the metal of his fingers sending a chill up her arm.

“You have a really lovely home.” She mentally scolded herself, knowing those weren’t her first choice of words.

He let out a hearty chuckle, holding onto her hand gently, “Thank you. It’s yours now, too, you know.”

She nodded her head, realizing how much closer he was to her now. She could see his dark eyelashes flutter as he watched her. She slowly retracted her hand, suddenly feeling quite self conscious. She wrapped her arms around her middle, wanting to hide herself from his piercing eyes. He seemed to notice her hesitance, taking a step back from her. They were both silent for a moment, Steve watching the awkward interaction. Her eyes began to wander again, fixating on all the books in the room.

“Do you like to read?” He asked, giving her a small smile.

Katherine’s eyes glanced towards him, getting captured by his icy orbs once more, “I do.” She returned the sweet smile.

“You’re more than welcome to any of them. I have more in the basement library.” He hummed softly, “Please feel free to explore. What’s mine, is now yours.”

She gave him a slow nod, the smile still spread across her lips, as she began to walk around the room. She walked up to one of the large bookcases, her fingers lifting to gently brush across the spines of a few books. She hummed softly, her eyes scanning over the different books. Bucky silently followed her, watching as she admired them. He glanced at Steve, who gave him a reassuring smile.

“I’m happy to collect more, if you think of any we should add to the collection.” He said to her, trying to ease her nerves. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, regardless of the odd situation.

“Duly noted.” She turned towards him, a slight blush crawling onto her cheeks as she realized.. While she was studying the books, he was studying her.

“Uh, are you hungry?” He gave her a side grin, “Steve and I usually go to this pizza place out on 6th, every Thursday.”

Katherine let out a soft laugh, “Pizza sounds great.”

Bucky clapped his hands together, “Then it’s settled. Steve, can you pull the car around?”

Steve nodded his head, “Yep.”

Katherine smiled to Bucky, “What are your favorite toppings? I’m a meat lover myself.”

Bucky’s lips spread wide on his face, “Me too. With the garlic sauce on the crust.”

Katherine’s nerves were slowly fading, “Extra cheese?”

Bucky chuckled, motioning for them to leave the room, “Doll, I have a feeling this’ll be much easier than either of us realized.”

“As long as you don’t put anchovies on anything, I think we’ll be set.”

They both began to laugh, all the nerves and awkwardness fading behind them.

[thetorturedpoetsfest]

Welcome to Day 8 of The Tortured Poets Fest!

Click the links listed below to check out all of the content our lovely Tortured Poets have created for all of us today! (and go to our bio to access the rest of the AO3 Collection)

✍️ for a moment i knew cosmic love. by xjustakay

Ship(s): Regulus Black/James Potter

Rating: E

Summary:

“Be specific, Potter. I know you’ve been dying to get to this.”

Oh, James hates that.

The distance that simply using his last name instead of his first puts between them. As if their history isn’t years long, even outside of their romantic relationship. James presses his lips together, tongue prodding at his cheek. His fingers twitch at his sides before he curls them in against his palms.

“Why did you break up with me, Regulus?”

( or: a breakup and a make up told in two parts )

🕯 I’m trying to stifle my sighs by @multiimoments

Ship(s): Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger, Harry Potter/Hermione Granger, Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger

(Background ships: Ginny Weasley/Luna Lovegood, Ron Weasley/Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott/Astoria Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson/Neville Longbottom) 

Rating: M

Summary:

The end of the war brought a great deal of changes Harry had to adjust to.

A year later, life is infinitely happier for him. But it seems an uncomplicated life was apparently too much to hope for, because he now contends with ever-increasing feelings for Hermione, as well as someone else he didn’t expect to ever let into his heart.

🗝 all this terrible danger by donotwishonme 

Ship(s): Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr., Regulus Black & Barty Crouch Jr. & Pandora Lovegood & Dorcas Meadowes & Evan Rosier

Rating: M

Summary:

Sometimes friends are just friends. Sometimes friends are a little bit more than just friends. And sometimes your friends turn into enemies.

📜 Obsession by thewanderingwriter 

Ship(s): Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Rating: E

Summary:

This is not real. It's an obsession. An obsession with green eyes and a lightning scar.

🖌 Cassandra by Pink_toastt (art) 

Ship(s): Regulus Black

Rating: M

Summary:

I read a version of the myth of Cassandra where she got her prophecy powers when she felt asleep in a temple and a bunch of snakes started whispering in her ears, so that's where this comes from.

✍️ My First Call by Katie_BlackCat @katie-blackcat

Ship(s): Regulus Black/James Potter

Rating: T

Summary:

Regulus' life has been filled with choices. He used to think he had always chosen correctly, but he's sacrificed pieces of himself that he wasn't willing to lose forever.

Or

When Regulus is told that he needs to take the Dark Mark, he runs away to join Sirius at the Potter's.

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

Be sure to check our page for Day 9’s reveals! Until then, Tortured Poets <3

🩶 Your mods,

@wolfpadx @multiimoments @heartsoncover @lemonlans @mercurial-witch @steveahoi damagecontrol & shewritesmaybe

[mearcatsreturns]

bi the way

While chatting during a night drinking, Jackson realizes that Lucy might have a crush or two...or just a very specific type.

Hello, all! This is the first fic I'm posting for this fandom, and I hope you all like it. While working on another fic, I was chatting with my bestie @somekindofflowergirl about how funny it would be if Lucy had been interested in Katie Barnes and he'd later found out (and broken his brain). This isn't that, but it led to this short fic about Lucy having a bi moment. And a type.

Rated T, also on ao3. Chenford-adjacent (just some light pining), pre-relationship, but astoundingly, canon-compliant. 

******

“So, did you figure out why Tim was being so nice to his new rookie?”

Lucy peers across the coffee table at Jackson, eyeing him blearily as she sloshes her glass. Ostensibly, it’s a margarita. In reality, it’s mostly tequila and ice. This is her third one, and she’s definitely feeling it. 

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Jackson smiles over at her, taking a drink of his beer. He’s not drinking as much, but this is probably his fifth beer. “So? You gonna tell me, or will I have to speculate wildly?”

“She��she’s got other stuff going on. Big stuff. He said he was being nice because that’s what she needs.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“She needs to feel safe, and I needed to feel like the world was dangerous. Something like that,” she says, waving her hand. 

He bristles, “Um, I think you know the world is a dangerous place. Caleb, anyone?”

Lucy makes a face, reaching across to pat his arm. “No, not anymore. At first. You know as well as I do that Tim hasn’t been harsh like that with me in forever,” she says. After a moment, she continues, “Did you know she was in the Army too? Katie, I mean?”

“No shit, really?” 

“For real.”

Jackson looks over at her, where she’s staring into her drink, frowning at it a little. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought he liked her better than me.”

He finishes the rest of his beer, unwilling to touch that one with a 10-foot pole. 

Lucy isn’t finished, though. “I asked him…I mean, not like that, but he said I’m kind and insightful and maybe one day Katie could be as good as me.”

Wow. That’s…unexpected, from Bradford. 

“What if he doesn’t mean it, though? What if he’s just saying that to make me feel better?” she asks, voice wobbling.

“Okay, first of all, does that sound like something Tim would do? If he’s actually using words to compliment you, he means it. Also, he’s right, and you are both kind and insightful. And astoundingly good at your job.” 

“But she’s just so pretty and smart and fit,” she says with a sigh.

Jackson isn’t really sure where to start with this one. “Uh…”

“She is, did you even see her?” 

“I did, Lucy, along with everyone on the day shift in patrol. She’s not really my type. Hey, is this still a thing where you’re upset about Tim ‘moving on’ with a new rookie, or…?” 

Lucy takes a long pull of her watery, iced tequila. “I just can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is. And what if she’s Tim’s type?”

He stands up and rounds the table, joining her on the couch. “Can we stop for a minute and focus on how you’ve mentioned three times that you think she’s hot?”

“Well, she is!” Lucy looks comically surprised at her outburst, and he’s sure the expression is mirrored on his face. 

“Okay, then. Is this a new development, or have you been hiding things from me, your best and also gayest friend?”

“Please, like you’re my gayest friend. One of my friends from college is an activist who writes about being gay. You’re my best friend, though.” 

“I’ll take it, but yeah, I’m still waiting on an answer to my question,” he tells her, laughing.

She shakes her head, turning a deep red. “I mean, I kissed some girls in college, but who didn’t?” 

“I can assure you that I did not.”

“You know what I mean!” 

Jackson takes a sip of his beer, grinning over at her. “I’m just saying, the fact you said ‘girls,’ plural, might mean something.”

“So what if it does?” she asks mulishly.  

“Then I would support you, but I’d still have more questions.”

“No, I’ve never had sex with a woman, but I’m not opposed to it.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask, but I will be circling back to that.”

Lucy snorts. “Okay, so…?”

“Listen, I-I kind of thought you liked Tim? Like, like—”

“Oh my god, Jackson!” Her face flames scarlet.

He wags a finger in front of her face emphatically. “Please, don’t act like that’s completely crazy.” 

“He was my T.O.! I set him up with one of my best friends!”

“Mmmhmm,” he teases, “your very hot former T.O. who isn’t dating your friend anymore. Who you’ve been just a little possessive of the last couple of days.” 

“I-I have not! I was just…I needed some reassurance, which is completely normal. Psychologically speaking.”

“Lucy,” Jackson says gently, “Angela is one of my closest friends. Harper and Nolan have each other’s backs. But none of us look at each other the way you and Tim do.”

Lucy rolls her eyes and sips her drink. “Well, you’re gay and Angela’s a woman. And Nolan and Harper…well, can you imagine what Harper would do if Nolan got a crush on her?”

That is a funny mental image, but he isn’t willing to be sidetracked. “Oh, so you’re admitting to a crush?”

She tosses a throw pillow at him, and he manages to catch it without spilling his beer. He sets it down to avoid any further potential spills.

Gathering his thoughts, he’s quiet. Lucy seems content to sip her drink, her head tipping back after the exhaustion of the day. 

Suddenly, he can’t hold it in, and Jackson giggles. 

Lucy sits up and quirks an eyebrow. “What?”

“I-I just…you have such a type,” he laughs. 

She just looks at him in befuddled questioning. 

“Look. Former military turned cop…that athletic build…beautiful down to the cut jawline…Lucy, they even have similar haircuts.”

Lucy stares at him for a long moment, then joins him in raucous laughter. “Oh my god, you’re right. This is horrible.” 

“No, this is the best thing ever, and I can’t wait to tell Lopez,” he wheezes, still leaning back into the couch in tipsy amusement. 

“Jackson,” she says, growing serious, “no. We will never speak of this again, and you will not tell Lopez.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will feed your Mandalorian figurine to Kojo.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“And you wouldn’t dare tell Lopez about this conversation,” she says with a victorious smirk.

“Fine, but don’t think I’m done teasing you about this. For, like, forever.”

“Fine,” Lucy says, rolling her eyes.

Jackson just smiles back at her. 

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

3rd Life: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

Hotch calls the local police and the coroner to come take care of the body. As soon as they arrive, your team heads back to the police station with the pictures you took of the body and of the crime scene. Jack and Pat were eagerly waiting for your arrival, and Hotch told him everything that they found like he promised.

"A teenager did this?"

"He was involved. There is no evidence he actually hurt Katie or Lindsey."

"So, do you think she's still alive?"

"I do, but I also think you should let us do our job. Can you do that?"

Jack sighs and steps back to signal that he will step back from this investigation. You can't believe Rossi told him anything since he is too close to this. Your team has gathered enough evidence to put together a profile, so following hotch's orders, Detective Payton gathers his men and women to hear the profile your team put together. Jack and Pat are stuck in the conference room since they don't need to be part of this.

"Defensive wounds, bite indentations, and scratch marks on his face, hands, and arms all indicate that he was involved in the murder and abduction of Katie and Lindsey," Hotch starts off.

"He's just a teenager."

"So were the Lords of Chaos," you point out. "Three teenagers were bewitched by a boy named Kevin Foster. Kevin persuaded his friends to murder their own high-school teacher. It's the social dynamics of teenage boys. In this case, intoxicated by drugs and alcohol. When worked up into a frenzy by a dominant male, the adolescent mind can be pushed past what the adult mind perceives as acceptable.

"What started out as a good time quickly devolved, and Katie fell victim to the violent drunken rage of a juvenile gang. We believe this unsub got scared and wanted out, and the dominant male, in order to maintain control, attacked him."

Spencer isn't part of the profile since he is working with Penelope to ID the young man you found, so when he walks into the main room with determination in his eyes, you know he's got something.

"The victim's name is Douglas Silverman, eighteen years old."

"We need to interview kids in his class, parents, and teachers to find out who his friends were."

"It's at least two or more boys. One older, early to mid-twenties. He'll think of himself as a real badass, somebody who broke the rules and defied the system. He might have flunked out or gotten kicked out of high school, possibly the same one. He'll also have a record--petty theft, and larceny."

"But Douglas Silverman's been missing for two days. How come no one's called?" Payton asks.

"It's a three-day weekend. His parents are out of town, or he called and said he's okay."

"Now that the weekend's over, I can tell you that with what's happened, it's gonna end violently. Thank you."

"Do you want to come with us? Prentiss and I are talking to Doug's father," Hotch offers.

"No, thank you. I'm sure you and Emily can handle it. I want to stay here and watch Jack. I still think something is wrong here. I can't pinpoint it."

Hotch nods and leaves with Emily to talk to Doug's father. Katie's parents are called into the police station to talk about Doug, but JJ and Derek can handle that. You want to keep a close eye on Jack, so the best thing for you is to be inside the conference room while Rossi is talking to him.

"Did you figure out who the teenager is?" Jack asks.

"His name's Doug Silverman. He went to the same high school as Katie and Lindsey. All we know right now is he was involved. There are others."

"Well, I vetted every boy that came into Katie's life and made sure I knew everything about them. I had to. I can't afford to forget a face. His, I've never seen."

"Maybe she didn't want you to meet these guys. Maybe she was afraid of what you might say or do," you say.

"Lindsey and I don't have any secrets."

"That's not quite true, is it?"

"No, it is true. She knows who I am... what I was."

"Ten years ago, your wife died in a car accident. Is that why you turned state witness?" Rossi asks.

"I promised my wife on her deathbed that I would do whatever was necessary to protect Lindsey."

"Did you tell Lindsey it was supposed to be you in that car and not her mom?"

"Yes."

Rossi is getting bold, but it seems to be working. Jack is talking and revealing a lot about himself for this investigation.

"Why, then, with all that you taught her, would she allow herself to get caught up in this?"

"She wouldn't."

"What about Katie?" you ask.

"Lindsey protected Katie like a sister."

"So, what if a few boys pulled up and offered Katie a ride?" you ask.

"Lindsey would have gone along to make sure she was okay."

"Lindsey is still alive because of what you taught her."

"I taught her to stay away from men like me," he says regretfully.

The door opens and Bruce walks in. You look at him and freeze from the unexpected amount of emotion coming from him. He is unusually calm, and he is masking his anger with sadness. It's almost as if he recognized Doug.

"I'd like to speak to Jack if I may, to apologize," he says regretfully.

"Sure."

Everyone leaves so that it's only Jack and Bruce inside the room. You have suspicions on Bruce which is why you keep an eye on the two of them. You cross your arms and shake your head lightly, catching the attention of Rossi.

"What's wrong?"

"You know, ever since I arrived in this state, I couldn't read Jack because of who he is and what he's done. I've been able to read Bruce like an open book. He's been emotional and in denial of what happened to Katie. He's actually angry, and he's masking his anger with sadness. Something isn't right, Rossi. I'm going to see what Spencer has. Keep an eye on them."

You leave Rossi's side and head over to Spencer who has been trying to work with Penelope on whom Doug used to hang out with. Hotch and Emily told Spencer that Doug used to hang out with a kid named Ryan, which is why Spencer is using Penelope's abilities to figure out exactly who Ryan is.

"Okay, I got three Ryans," Penelope says over speakerphone.

"The Ryan we're looking for probably went to high school with Lindsey and Katie a few years back. He got expelled or at least flunked out."

"Ryan Phillips. He was expelled for smoking pot years ago."

You look back at Rossi who isn't watching Bruce and Jack. Your eyes flit to the conference room and they widen when you see Bruce leave... and Jack is nowhere to be found. You rush out of the room Spencer is in and over to Rossi.

"Rossi, Jack is gone. I knew something was wrong."

Pat comes rushing into the room with his hand to his head. Blood is trickling down from underneath his head, and you can only assume Jack got to him before escaping. Bruce was open and emotional before, but now he's tight-lipped and silent. Bruce had something to do with Jack's disappearance, and you have an idea of what happened.

"He's taken my car. The bastard took my car." Pat takes out a radio so that he can communicate with the local PD. "This is Pat Mannan. All units, all units, I want an APB out on Jack Vaughn."

"Where's he gonna go? He can't know where Lindsey is."

"No, but he might know who's got her."

"How?"

"You showed Bruce Doug's photo. He recognized it. He knows the kid who killed Katie and who has Lindsey. So, now he's sent a psychopath after his daughter's killer."

"Garcia's got a name. Ryan Phillips, twenty-eight," Spencer reveals.

"You need to get a unit over to Phillips' house before Jack turns up there," Hotch says to Payton, who gets right to work.

"One thing's for sure is that we know Ryan won't be there."

"We'd better figure out where he is before Jack does."

Half of the team splits up to head to Ryan's house, and the other half stays at the police station. You decided to stay with Spencer at the station because something inside of you is telling you to stay by him... and you're never ignoring your gut ever again. Spencer gets to work on creating a geographical location of where Ryan could be by draping on the map with different colored markers.

"You gotta find him and fast," Pat rushes him.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Coloring a map."

"Pat, all the activity is focused on the southeastern district of this state. We need to create a geographical profile of where Ryan could have Lindsey."

"There's gunshots coming from Jackson street. Are you two coming?"

The rest of the team but you and Spencer leave with Pat to head to Ryan's place to help out. Spencer still works on the map, even after Hotch calls to ask how it's going.

"Reid, Y/N, good news, please."

"After inputting all the sites, I've come up with a two-dimensional probability service overlay map that indicates where the offenders' are operating."

"Reid, where is he?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but I think he's taken her to the Mayford High School two blocks from here."

"I'll meet you there, and Reid, Y/N... be careful."

"You got it."

Suddenly, you remember how scared you got when Jack confronted you inside his house when you were looking at his computer. He reminded you too much of Frank, and that is the exact reason why you're not going to let Spencer go at this alone. You knew why your gut was telling you to stay behind with Spencer.

You two quickly get one of the cars and head over to the high school. Jack must have just arrived because he is letting his anger show through pretty easily. You're able to use this energy to follow wherever he might be.

"Come on, I can see his energy. I'm not leaving you this time."

"I don't want you to."

You and Spencer don't wait for the others to arrive, but you're okay with jumping head first. There are two of you now instead of just Spencer. You hold your gun out in front of you and let the energy lead you into one of the buildings and to one of the bathrooms.

"Kill him! Kill him, daddy!" Lindsey says from inside.

You two barge inside the bathroom to see Jack standing there with a shotgun pointed at Ryan's face. Ryan is whimpering on the ground, pleading for his life.

"Put the gun down, Jack!"

"Please! Please help me!" Ryan cries.

"Jack, put the gun down."

"She begged him to stop and he laughed at her! He laughed at her!" Lindsey antagonizes her father.

"I didn't laugh at her. I would change it if I could, but I can't. Please... just don't kill me."

Ryan is telling the truth, so you can't let Jack kill him. Jack is teetering on the edge of doing it and not doing it, so you have to be stronger than Lindsey..

"Jack, remember what you promised your wife? You'd do anything to protect Lindsey. Do you hear what she is asking you to do? She's begging you to kill someone right in front of her," Spencer tries.

"Jack, what did your wife want you to protect Lindsey from? Your life has been nothing but violence, and if you do this, Lindsey's will be too. Please, Jack. Do you want that to happen?" you also try.

"No, you don't want that!" Ryan yells in agreement.

"When does it end, Jack? Put down the gun!"

"Kill him," Lindsey presses.

"When does it stop?"

"Tomorrow."

Jack pulls the trigger and kills Ryan right in front of his daughter and right in front of you and Spencer. Spencer is frozen to the spot, but you have tears streaming down your cheeks. Two seconds later, Hotch, Derek, and Rossi come barging into the bathroom. Jack and Lindsey are escorted out of the bathroom, but you can't seem to leave.

You start to cry for the loss of Ryan's life when you know he was telling the truth. You kneel down next to Ryan, not caring that your knees are getting soaked in his blood. You sob and drop your gun on the tile, causing it to make a loud noise.

A hand places itself on your shoulder, and you jump at the touch. You look back at Derek who has a sympathetic look on his face.

"Are you okay?"

"What's going to happen to Jack?" you sniffle.

"It depends on how important a witness he is," Rossi says.

You turn back to Ryan and continue to cry, even after Derek helps you to your feet and escorts you out of the bathroom.

"It is a wise father that knows his own child." - William Shakespeare

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[motownfiction]

theories of happiness

At fifteen years old, Judy Armstrong announces to her mother that she has three theories of happiness. She’s written them down, and she wants to share them.

They’re at the breakfast table, and Mom almost chokes on her coffee. Mama Katie has to clap her on the back like she’s a little kid. Jenny smirks over her scrambled eggs.

“Glad to see you have my back,” Judy says, sticking her fork into her waffle.

“Honey, it’s not that,” Mom says, still trying to sip at her coffee. “It’s that … it’s that you’re fifteen. You just got done with driver’s training.”

“And you sucked,” Jenny says.

It takes all of Judy’s self-control not to catapult a forkful of eggs at her little sister’s face.

“Jenny, stop it,” Mom says.

She turns back to Judy with worried eyes. Judy wants to scream. There’s probably nothing in the world she hates more than Mom’s worried eyes. As Judy and Jenny have gotten older, the worried eyes have gotten more frequent. And to think, Judy once assumed that getting older meant that the worried eyes would slowly begin to fade away.

“You’re fifteen,” Mom says again. “You’re not old enough to have life theories. I’m fifty-five, and I’m not old enough to have life theories.”

“Strangely enough, at fifty-three, I feel prepared,” Mama Katie says. It would make Judy laugh if she were in a better mood.

“I’m just saying,” Mom adds. “Don’t you need a little experience?”

“Sure,” Judy says. “But I’m not saying they’re theories about life. I’m saying they’re theories of happiness. And I don’t think I’m too young to get what happiness is. Do you?”

Mom sighs and shakes her head.

“I guess not,” she says. “Bring on the theories, then.”

Judy sighs and produces a single piece of paper from her English notebook. With a shaky hand, she gives it to Mom, who reads it with a sharp eye. Judy can still remember everything it says.

Number 1: Put on music that could never ever be sad. Best choice is probably “I Can’t Get Next to You,” but “I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch)” is a good alternative. My reason is I just like The Temptations more.

Number 2: Eat a doughnut. They’re good.

Number 3: Be as much like my dad as possible.

When Mom reads the last point, she almost chokes on her coffee again. Mama Katie asks her what’s the matter, but Mom doesn’t answer. She’s too busy looking right at Judy.

At first, Judy can’t figure out if Mom is mad at her. She doesn’t usually like to talk about Sam, the girls’ dad, the one who died a long, long time before anyone knew they could ever be born. Maybe she thinks it’ll make Mama Katie jealous. Maybe she just misses him too much to make him real (because if he’s real, then he’s really gone, and his daughters really will never have the chance to meet him). Either way, they don’t talk about Sam very often. At least, they don’t always talk about him directly.

Sam’s influence is all over the place, even in spots where Judy didn’t think it was possible. Mom even runs his old store. But people are always telling Judy that she reminds them of Sam. His smarts, his musical prowess, his ability to babble in a few minutes with more wit than others will ever be able to muster in their entire lives. They say Judy got all that; that it must have been genetic because she never knew him; because she can’t have ever known him. And it kills her. It kills her to think there was once this perfect ally in the world, her own father, and he’s been dead too long for her to ask him any questions. He’s been dead too long to be her daddy. He’s been dead too long to be her friend.

It’s not fair. Jenny is so much like Mom, and they get to spend all the time in the world together. But what do you do when your so-alike parent has been in the ground for almost twenty whole years, five years longer than you’ve been alive? What do you do when everyone tells you that you smile like a dead man? That you spin your vinyl records like a corpse? That your laugh sounds like a laugh you’ve never really heard … a laugh you should have been able to hear all the time?

Mom takes another breath and hands the piece of paper back to Judy. At first, Judy’s pretty sure she won’t say anything.

Then again, Mom has a way of surprising people.

“You don’t even have to try,” she says, and this time, it doesn’t sound resentful. “You’re like him … more than you know.”

Judy gives her mother a weak smile. It’s not much, she thinks, but it’s something.

Maybe one of these days, she’ll know all the ins and outs. Maybe one of these days, she’ll finally understand what Aunt Sadie and Uncle Daniel mean when they say she’s just like her dad. Maybe one of these days, she’ll stop being so angry that she never knew him.

Maybe one of these days, Judy will believe her own theories.

[caspianmaxson]

Brown eyes looked up in amazement as the night sky was bursting into light, beautiful fireworks had been brought in for her aunts wedding. Her eyes turned towards the hill, as a man had been rushing as quickly as he could to deliver a letter meant for her eyes only.

“ My dearest Shay..”

She giggled, as she saw the letter was written in her godfather handwriting, it had been several weeks, almost a month and she had not received any reply about her questions.

“ You’ve come to possess something very powerful. The letters you found, I imagine where no accident. Someone wanted to interfere and plant this idea inside your head already. Someone, I assume has alternate motives for you. But sooner or later, I knew this question was going to be asked. I am a little surprised you didn’t ask your father, and if you had, I’m curious to his response, please relay it. You’ve been told since you were a child, that the witch of nightfall was not a woman to be trifled with.  I’m sure somewhere in your textbooks are the names Levon Areli, Katy Areli, Fay Rosen, Riley Conan, Serena Drake, Aira Gazer. Hundreds of names throughout history that have been records, and different perspectives that have been written. Not everything you read may be the truth, and not everything your hear may be the right answer. Remember there is always .. another side of the story. But the tale, I am about to tell you, is one of love. For a time, it was true, and real love. I know this, because I was there and witness how it started, and how it ended. Your father was imprisoned in the same school you find yourself attending. Unable to speak, write or connect with his father. At the time it was considered appropriate for children to be sent off and learn how to be obedient, loyal subjects. They would practiced their skills and harvest every connection. I, had already been in the school since I was a young boy. It was there that I met your father, and we developed our friendship. He was shy, timid, and was afraid of his father. He desperately wanted to go home to his stepmother, and he was still mourning the lost of his real mother. I spent many nights sitting at his bedside, reminding him he did nothing wrong. This was the way, our society did things. Then, one night a young girl named Serena heard him crying from her chambers and moved to sit on the floor and talk with him. She was the first person, he truly trusted. She, was also my girlfriend at the time. But let’s just skip, that part. He looked forward to seeing her every day, she wanted to be dancer. Your father, wanted to be a fishermen. They had long talks about how things could be, once he was on the throne.

It remained like this for many years, us children were outcast. Every year someone new would be sent to our little prison, and slowly we would pull them out of their sadness, and bring them into the light. We did this with Luca, Ingrid and so many more. Things had been going our way, and no one expected anything of us. Until, the day Charles Thornfield stepped foot on the grounds.

I can not express to you my warning of this man. He may be a fatherly figure in your father eyes, but he a man of strings, and he cuts off anyone who gets in his way. Your father informed me one evening, that he had sent for a ring, a yellow canary diamond. It was meant has a symbol of his love and desire to spend the rest of his life with Serena. It just so happen to be, his mothers. He made a vow that night, that the two of us would be friends forever, and nothing could break it. I watched how happy he was, when Serena said yes. But, I also watched how sad he was, the next time Charles came to visit.

His father, had plans for him. An arranged marriage he was going to secure. Your father for the first time, made his first decision to make his father happy. A decision, I firmly believe still haunts him till this day. Caspian, did not have the heart to say goodbye to Serena in person, he wrote her a letter, like a coward. He asked for Charles to deliver it.

The moment Charles saw her, he recognized she was pregnant. In order to ensure your grandfather plans kept in motion, he offered Serena a tonic, and promised everything was going to be okay. He lied.

It nearly killed her, but Charles had a friend, who helped Serena recover and help remove the problem. A boy, a son.. a young man they named Darius.

From that moment, the girl I knew, and cared for, Changed. Circling down different paths, all hell driven patterns created by your father. Her only hope at that point, was your father cousin: Edward. That is who, she is writing to in the letters you have sent me. Edward, Serena and Katy were at one time the only things that mattered to your father, and the only three people he was willing to stand up to his father too. The love your father had for them, was just not enough. He craved and wanted his father love more.

I hope, by me telling you this information you have a small glimpse of the past. You understand what came before you, and understand the potential issue for your future. You are not the only person, in line for the succession. Do not make your father mistakes. I am in Wexford, I am well, until Jacob sees me. Pray for me.

I love you, and as I said there are many versions of the story. This is the only piece I can give you, that is mine.

Michael Blackwood, your loving Godfather

[roosterbruiser]

have two tabs open so I can give live commentary as I read this chapter :-)

Sitting in Mav’s office, blowing his mind with every idea you have. Yeah, everyone has noticed that Rooster’s been a little bit tense this week.

this has me fucking hollering!!!! Mav is so dumb!!!! so is Rooster!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!! WHAT AN ELITE DUO!!!!! one time my middle school art teacher told me I was a genius because I taught her how to copy and paste on her desktop and that gives Maverick vibes 1000000%

Your laughter fades and Natasha groans as she turns and leans on the ropes, raising her eyebrows expectantly at him. It’s unclear as to whether Rooster’s upset that his spot as her best friend has been taken by someone else, or if he’s just in the mood to be an asshole today. It’s a little bit of both.

“You feel like doing what we pay you to do today, or do you wanna keep fucking around up there?”

Bradley stop being a little bitch boy challenge: IMPOSSIBLE

Even the work that you’ve done so far has picked up business a little.

this is what Bambi's pinterest looks like I just know it

Your brows scrunch slightly as you glance back down at them. “Yeah… It’s Mav, back in his glory days. I think he’d like it.”

and all I'm saying is that I WOULD sign up for this gym if this was the profile picture. so, Jake, you can leave!!!

“I don’t need you looking out for me,” You reply calmly, finally giving in to your desire to touch him. You skim your fingers gently along the ridges of his abdomen, watching your fingertips move rather than looking him in the eye. “I’m not even sure I like you.”

KATIE THIS SLAYS SO FUCKING HARD I LOVE BAMBI SO MUCH SJSJSJSJ

One of his hands leaves your waist, trailing up along your side, over your clavicle, until he can tip your chin back. He leans closer and presses his mouth to yours. It’s slow, it’s relief, it’s him melting into you all at once. He pulls back and kisses the corner of your lips tenderly. “You’re gonna get your ass kicked if you do that fight.”

you have a genuine actual talent for writing really relieving/sweet/tender/intimate scenes that are tinged with a sort of brashness. they all have a little bit of bite to them. I fucking LOVE IT!!!!! it's such a pleasure to read. itches my brain real good.

You’ve been in more trouble with a weaker man for much less.

me, pretending to be a hotel concierge and talking to Jett: good evening, sir! your room is ready <3

Blow by Blow | 0.7 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader au

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big. Boxing au.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line, blood and injuries throughout the fic but will be specified in the warnings of the chapter. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni

…

���If you don’t think that I’m good enough to do it, Bradley, then just say—“

“I don’t think you’re good enough to do it.” He answers back, deadpan. Your face falls instantly. He sits forwards and leans his elbows on his knees, “I’m not even sure you know how a real boxing match works, Bambi.”

Maybe it was a little harsh, but he’s right. He’s not going to pretend that you’re ready for a fight and watch you get your ass kicked. It’s nice that everyone around here is so nice to you, but as far as he’s concerned, someone should probably be a little realistic too.

It’s been a week since that argument in your apartment. You’ve been avoiding him since then. You’ve also been training like you’re Rocky Balboa — Nat’s stayed late at the gym every night this week to help you. Everyone’s on your side about this, telling you that you’ve got it and that you’re going to do great.

Rooster had been annoyed about it at first — you thinking that you know better than him. Walking around here in your cute gym sets, grinning with Javy and Mickey as they work through speed bag relays with you. Sitting in Mav’s office, blowing his mind with every idea you have. Yeah, everyone has noticed that Rooster’s been a little bit tense this week.

Bob winces, closing his eyes and pursing his lips. At his side, Rooster rants about the women’s locker room not being cleaned again. Another complaint, another canceled subscription.

“I cleaned it last night like the rota said, it’s not my fault it got dirty during the day! — Almost all of our staff are guys.” Bob complains, adjusting the cap on his head and then pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. The women’s locker room is usually just cleaned after hours, since the guys can’t go in there during the day.

The duty falls on Nat if there’s something during the day.

Rooster pushes away from the counter and rounds the corner into the gym. Natasha’s in the middle of the ring, gloves on her hands, her head thrown back in laughter. You’re leaning into her, doubled over, laughing your ass off. Your inside jokes are only growing, and Natasha’s coming out for drinks with you and your friends tonight — the pair of you are just getting closer and closer.

“Hey, Nat!” Rooster barks, face stern and thick arms folded over his chest.

Your laughter fades and Natasha groans as she turns and leans on the ropes, raising her eyebrows expectantly at him. It’s unclear as to whether Rooster’s upset that his spot as her best friend has been taken by someone else, or if he’s just in the mood to be an asshole today. It’s a little bit of both.

“You feel like doing what we pay you to do today, or do you wanna keep fucking around up there?”

You follow Natasha down from the ring, biting the Velcro around the gloves and pulling them off of your hands. Acutely aware that this is all your fault. Taking time away from the work she should be doing. You have work that you should probably do too.

Natasha squints as she walks over to her lifelong best friend, standing before him and looking up, deadly serious. “I’m going to let that go because I know you’re freaking out about this fight with Nico, but if you talk to me like that again, I’m going to treat your balls like a heavy bag.”

A quick glance over the top of his friend’s head and Rooster finds you staring at the two of them, lips quirked, having just heard everything.

“Sorry.” He mumbles dejectedly. Nat nods, patting his shoulder as she walks past him. As she walks further away, it’s just the two of you. You, staring at him, him staring back at you. Each of you waiting for the other to speak first. Neither of you do.

You look down sheepishly and grab your bag from beside the ring, turning and heading for Mav’s office. Mav lets you do your work in there on the days he isn’t in. He seems proud of your plans for this place. There’s a charity fight this weekend that Payback, Phoenix and Hangman are going to participate in — you’ve organized for a couple of small time journalists from local papers to come and interview them. Getting their names out there will help get people in the door.

Even the work that you’ve done so far has picked up business a little. You’re getting a lot of engagement, Bob said there has been tonnes of enquiries, but only a couple of sign-ups so far. Progress is progress.

You finish off your afternoon in the office, Tank and Bob join you for a little while, Fanboy after that while he’s on his fifteen minute break. After five, Jake kicks you out of the seat behind the desk so that he can sort through the expenses for the week, so you sit opposite the desk and finish up your edits to the website.

“Which profile picture do you think would be best? — For the instagram and twitter accounts.” You spin your laptop around on your lap and flick through three icons. Vaguely similar but still noticeably different.

He frowns, “Kid, none of those are of me.”

Your brows scrunch slightly as you glance back down at them. “Yeah… It’s Mav, back in his glory days. I think he’d like it.”

“I think that we’d do better if I was the face of Bradshaw’s.” He winks at you across the desk, but you know that he’s only half joking. You’ve noticed the way his eyes linger on the mirror when he’s with a client, silently checking himself out. It’s amusing and almost inspiring, in an odd way, the confidence he has built for himself.

“Shouldn’t it be Rooster?” You ask, also half-playfully.

Jake scoffs at the idea. “Then they come in looking for the guy in the picture and there’s a fifty percent chance he decides to be a dick, and we lost a customer. I vote myself for the profile picture. I can send you some options.”

And he does. You roll your eyes amusedly as your phone pings with pictures whilst you’re making yourself dinner that evening. Finishing up with instead promoting the charity fight a little, figuring out the placement of some flyers that you’re going to make the guys help you hand out, you abandon work late that night. But it doesn’t feel much like a job anyway.

TV, a bath, and then you’re curled up in bed with your laptop in front of you.

You wince as the grown man spins, his eyes roll back and he falls to the canvas. Video after video, clips that Javy has sent you, the best of the best, getting clocked in the jaw and tumbling down, one by one. If this was supposed to be encouraging, it’s not — all that it proves is that you can be as great at the sport as these guys are, and still get your face broken.

Tank stirs, stretching out along the bottom of the bed, nuzzling his head against where your feet rest under the duvet. Instinctively, you lower the sound. Your room, lit up by the LED illumination of the laptop screen and the new, soft lights tangled around the metal frame of this rickety, old bed.

It’s never quiet around here, but you’re growing used to the backfiring cars, screeching tires and the drunken arguments that happen in the alley behind the gym. It’s quiet enough on this evening. Quiet enough that you hear the shoes on the steps outside before there’s a key fumbling in the lock to your apartment, heavy boots on the metal framed stairs, stumbling and uneaven sounding.

“Stay here, baby.” You murmur softly, smoothing your fingers over Tank’s ears. He lifts his head at the noise, blinking tiredly as he considers getting up to investigate. You kiss his nose and tell him to wait.

Rooster stretches his sore neck from side to side as he shuts the door and locks it behind him, flicking on the kitchen light, kicking his boots off. He does it all so naturally, like he lives here. It’s hard to fall out of the habit, this has been his second home since he got a key when he was fourteen. This place is within walking distance of the downtown bars, whereas his actual apartment is further, through sketchier neighborhoods that Rooster is not welcome in.

“What are you doing?”

It’s all unintentional to a certain degree, sometimes it really does slip his mind that you’ve moved in up here. When he turns, finding new soft furnishings, throw pillows and pictures on the walls, new curtains hung on the windows, it’s all there in the front of his mind again. But, then his gaze, as blurry as it might be, lands on you. Standing before him in an old t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, he remembers that maybe coming here wasn’t an accident at all.

“Mm, sorry, Bambi,” His ‘s’ sounds slur as he plants his palm on the counter, feet lagging, making him stumble. He blinks slowly and turns his head towards you, lips toying at a soft smile, “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Your brows scrunch disapprovingly, watching the way his eyes trail, the way that his head tilts slightly to the left as he looks you over and then squints to steady his vision. You can practically see the cogs in his head turning, he might as well be thinking out loud.

“You didn’t,” You answer. There’s a slight bite to your tone, annoyance and disapproval all in one. Even as drunk as he is, he gets the picture, he just has no intention of apologising. “But what’s going on? — What are you doing here?”

Like you don’t already know. Still, Rooster plays along, dancing around the question just like you are. His hand finds his belt, brown leather tucked through blue denim loops, eyes on you as he slowly but certainly unbuckles it. “Too drunk to drive. Just gonna sleep it off.”

He’s not asking your permission, staring you right in the eye, waiting for you to finally snap and just say what you’ve been thinking all week. He can’t stand more of these irritated glares, he wants to clear the air before it poisons his upcoming week. You stand firm, folding your arms over your chest.

“I’ll order you an Uber.”

Rooster abandons his now unbuckled belt, shrugging the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt back off of his thick shoulders, letting it fall to the floor right there in the entryway. “I’ll be fine here.”

“I think it would be best if you didn’t.” You say softly. He remains unfazed, almost tripping over his boots as he takes a step towards you. Into the centre of the apartment, away from the safe purchase of the counter that he has been leaning on.

“Why?” You didn’t defend yourself to him last week. You just let him tell you that you weren’t good enough and you’ve been sulking about it ever since. He presses forwards unsteadily.

“Because.” You answer sternly. Rooster grabs the hem of his t-shirt, shrugging his shoulders as he peels it up and over his head, dropping it to the ground. His clothes aren’t even in a pile, they’re just scattered across the floor, a mess in his wake. He takes a step away from them and towards you.

“That’s not an answer.” He replies, going for his belt again.

“Stop taking your clothes off!” You demand, furrowing your eyebrows at him as your grip tightens around your door handle like you’re about to retreat. The option of fleeing into your room doesn’t sound so bad, shutting him out and leaving him and his stupid muscles and bad ideas out here alone. He’s close enough now that he could touch you if he wanted, and it wouldn’t be too difficult for you to lean forwards and touch him too.

Rooster stops, his hands on the waistband of his jeans, button popped open and zipper tugged all the way down. He frowns at you, swaying slightly from the amount of alcohol in his system. “I’m not gonna sleep in my jeans.”

There’s a pause. For a second, you think that he must be sober and just fucking with you. Then, he hooks his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans and starts to push them down.

“You’re not going to sleep here at all, you weirdo!” You step forwards, planting both hands firmly on the solid warmth of his chest, shoving him. Rooster stumbles and catches his jeans so that they don’t fall around his ankles and trip him. With his free hand, he catches one of your wrists and frowns at you.

With his grip on your wrist, he tugs you forwards, away from the safety of your room and out into the open with him. You bump into his chest and sigh, starting to pull back.

“You’re avoiding me.” He points out, releasing your wrist, instead trailing his touch downwards and weaving his fingers through yours. You roll your eyes. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. “You’re mad at me for what I said.”

It’s unclear whether that’s a question or not. It might be, but he doesn’t wait for you to answer. Instead he steps back and leans a fraction of his weight into you. “I didn’t say it to be an asshole, Bambi.”

You lift your head and look him in the eye finally. He softens, hands finding your hips, pressing you back into the doorframe as he steps closer to you. Drunk or not, you’ve got a feeling that he’s here for more than just a place to crash.

“I don’t need you looking out for me,” You reply calmly, finally giving in to your desire to touch him. You skim your fingers gently along the ridges of his abdomen, watching your fingertips move rather than looking him in the eye. “I’m not even sure I like you.”

Rooster’s fingers curl into the fabric of his old baseball t-shirt over your hips, nodding his head. He can’t blame you for being torn. Still, he bumps his hips forwards, his stomach brushing yours before he straightens up, still swaying from the alcohol. “You kissed me, though.”

He doesn’t need to remind you of what else you did for him, he’s certain that you’d remember that.

“I’ve kissed worse guys than you.” You remind him.

One of his hands leaves your waist, trailing up along your side, over your clavicle, until he can tip your chin back. He leans closer and presses his mouth to yours. It’s slow, it’s relief, it’s him melting into you all at once. He pulls back and kisses the corner of your lips tenderly. “You’re gonna get your ass kicked if you do that fight.”

You push your hips forwards into his, chasing his lips and kissing him again, this time catching hold of the nape of his neck to keep him with you. Rooster’s fingers tighten in the material of the shirt as he tugs you even closer to him.

“So, help me train.” You groan softly. You feel him smile amusedly against your skin, his nose nudging your jaw back further as his mouth seeks out that sweet spot just under your ear. You hum as he finds it, sucking tenderly at the sensitive skin.

“No.” He murmurs, fingers curling tighter in the fabric of your shirt as he leans his weight into you, mouth working expert patterns of open-mouthed kisses along your throat. Fuck, he’s good at that.

You frown and push at his hips until he gives in and pulls back to look at you. “Why not?”

“I think it’s a dumb idea and you’re gonna get yourself hurt,” He replies calmly, brushing a strand of loose hair back from your forehead. It’s tender, almost too gentle of an interaction, almost too intimate. He kisses your temple, your cheek, then your jaw. You lean your head back for him to access your neck again. “It’s not the same as playing around with Nix.”

“I’m gonna do it whether you want me to or not,” You answer back, heartbeat simultaneously thudding in your chest and also between your legs as his moustache tickles your throat. You swallow, “So, you might as well help me, right?”

Rooster shakes his head, balling the hem of the shirt under his fist and glancing down. Even in the dim light of the apartment, the shitty warm yellow glow of that fading light bulb over your heads, he can see the cute little butterflies on your panties.

“If I thought it might help, maybe.” You can’t fault his honesty, even if it makes you want to smack him in his stupid, pretty head. Rooster strokes his thumb over the purple and blue butterfly pattern that covers your hip, then turns his attention back towards you. When he does, you’re already looking at his face. He’s such an asshole.

He closes the gap between the two of you and kisses you softly, fingers curling around the nape of your neck to keep you with him. Your fingers skim along his sides, ridges of warm skin under your touch.

His tongue grazes over the seam of your lips. Delighted by how obediently you part them for him, he presses a fraction of his weight into you, sending you stumbling backwards. No thoughts of danger cross your mind. He finds leverage on the wall behind you immediately, bracing his hand against it, keeping you against him.

His free hand slips south from your hip, moving towards the apex of your thighs. Immediately, your legs press together, bracketing his denim covered thigh. His fingers settle back around your hips, pulling you flush against him, slotting one of his thighs between yours.

Groaning softly into your mouth as he rocks himself against your hip, his denim clad thigh rocking back and forth against your core through the thin barrier of your sleep shorts.

Maybe it’s the tequila on his tongue, maybe it’s the fact that he’s so ridiculously honest with you, or perhaps the fact that he’s got a worsening habit of stripping for you, but there’s something so intoxicating about him. Kissing him, touching him, being in his arms.

Pacing along the side of that road after leaving Jett, thinking of the pain and the torment, the bad sex and that intoxicating feeling in the beginning, you’d sworn to be more careful with yourself. Going down on Rooster was probably a bad decision, but not one that you regret. However, letting him touch you is a line that, once crossed, can only make things worse.

Brought back to reality by his hands skimming up your sides, wandering, roaming towards your chest, you pull back so quickly that you bump into the doorframe behind you. He doesn’t miss a beat in going back to what he was saying.

“I don’t get why you want to get your ass kicked so badly, anyway.” He murmurs, shaking his head at you as he twirls a strand of your hair around his finger loosely.

Dead serious and scowling at him through those pretty lashes. He smiles softly. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, then you sigh, realising that he isn’t going to give in.

Your palm rests open against his abdomen as you push him back enough for you to slip under his arm and finally put some distance between the two of you. Rooster watches you pace away from him, his eyes on the curve of your ass under those sleep shorts.

“Did I do something to upset you?” Finally far enough away that you won’t be tempted to lean into that muscled frame and let him kiss you all over, you fold your arms over your chest and frown. Rooster’s brows scrunch.

“Huh?” He was just kissing you, he doesn’t understand now where this came from. The thought crosses his mind that he may have just heard you wrong.

“You‘re the one who wanted me to try boxing, and then everytime I’ve brought it up to you since, you’ve been mean to me.”

“Because it was just for fun! — Wouldn’t it be worse of me to let you get your nose broken in some amateur fight that doesn’t mean shit anyway?” Rooster argues back. A minute ago he had your chest pressed up against his, his mouth on yours — and now you’re arguing with him. Nothing is straightforward with you.

“It’s not your decision whether I do or don’t, so the least you could do is stop being so negative about it.”

“What do you want me to do? — Pretend that I think you’re going to win?”

“I want you to shut up.” You rush out. It’s quick and stern, and he can tell that you really mean it. A coldness in those soft eyes, a bite in your usually gentle tone. Forgetting that you’re supposed to be polite once again. He notices your reaction to your words first.

You take a cautious step back. Your throat constricts, mouth drying out as you swallow. His lack of reaction has your heartbeat in your ears and your hair standing on edge. You’ve been in more trouble with a weaker man for much less.

“Alright.” Rooster nods his head calmly. He lifts his hand, makes a zipping motion across his lips and pretends to throw away the key. You soften before him, the sound of his voice breaking through the thudding beat in your ears.

“Fine. What do I know, anyway? — Not like I’ve been doing this my whole life,” He shrugs playfully, lips quirking at the edges as he raises his palms in mock defence. He holds his hand out for you to come back to him, “I think you’re going to lose, and we’ll leave it at that.”

You stare at him, inhaling slowly and then squinting your eyes. “Fine. We’ll leave it at that.”

Rooster nods and steps towards you. You step quickly around him, brushing your shoulder against his, heading for your room. Willing yourself not to look back, fingers curling around the cold door handle, you shrug calmly, “There are blankets in the basket by the couch.”

As quickly as it opens, your door swings shut behind you. Rooster stares at the wood, humming softly and running a hand over his bare stomach. He flicks the light off and pushes at his jeans, shaking his head softly. Flopping onto the couch, grabbing a blanket, he tucks an arm behind his head and stares at the ceiling.

He’s glad that you’ve found friends here. He just lays awake for a while and wonders how great your new friends can really be if they’re going to let you get your ass kicked for a max payout of three hundred. If it was up to him, you’d listen and stick to running speed bag drills with Fanboy downstairs. If it was up to him, you’d wear those cute pyjama shorts more often too.

…

[takaraphoenix]

Robot Apocalypse, but make it queer

Making my own post because I meant to make a post about this before, but kind of forgot in the moment.

The Mitchells vs the Machines is an incredibly funny apocalyptic animated movie with a queer lead character and it needs to be seen - because it’s good and because I need of this.

Remember like a year before when people complained that one rainbow pin is just performative and it doesn’t mean much? Watch the movie. It means a lot. Because it is constantly there, it’s not just one pride flag in her room that is seen in the first shot and never again, every single scene Katie is in, you see her rainbow button. Every time you see her, you are visually reminded that she is queer.

And it’s more than just the button too.

We basically open her story with her saying this, with a montage of very awkward (and deadass very gay) clothes she’s trying out. The story of the movie is the story of their family finding together, but her own personal journey is that of someone who wants to “find her people”.

She gets into film school and that is where she finds her people. Which, sure, on the surface level refers to other film nerds with the same interests as her. But... these are her people:

And that is Jade. Who ends up becoming Katie’s girlfriend. So “her people” means more than just other film nerds, her people also means getting out of heterosexual suburbia and meeting other queer people.

Look at the way Jade stands out even in her doodle of her new friends. It’s... subtle, yes, but when you look for it, you can see the development between them building up throughout the movie.

When protesting the family road trip, she brings up all her new friends as a collective, but only names Jade. In that... awkward little crush way I recognize from myself.

Despite the movie being focused on Katie and her family as the absolute center, Jade still gets mentioned a lot; Katie and her are seen talking or texting each other repeatedly throughout the entire movie. Outside of the family, Jade is the most prominent human and Katie’s main relationship.

And then we end the movie on this:

This is the kind of queer rep I’ve been dying to see in animated movies. Not D*sney forcing the first token gays with like one easy to cut kiss in the end of a movie, the way they been doing with Marvel and Star Wars and their live-action remakes.

Something that feels real, that is organic, that is there. Sure, there is no explicit kiss, but the development is there throughout the movie, her queerness is ever present and the button is a good visual short hand and it is reassuring for me, as a queer viewer, because it’s there, at all times, it’s not a little one-off detail that can be edited out, it forces itself into the view every time that Katie is on screen and you don’t get to deny its existence.

I need this movie to be a success. I need this movie to get a sequel. Because I need to see Katie and Jade explicitely as a couple, maybe facing the next apocalypse together.

But if you’ve been looking for some queerness in your animated movie, you need to give this views, because even if it’s not huge, the queer is there - and that’s how we start. There’s never been an animated kids movie like that that features a queer lead, it figures that it’s not all out just yet. We always gotta work our way up when it comes to rep. And I do think this is a wonderful start.

Also, seriously, beyond that, it’s a hilarious and great movie about a family finding together, fighting robots, being weird and awkward. And the mom’s kickass and not just The Supportive MomTM, which I appreciated a lot too.

[mellowsadistic]

“What’s wrong with Daddy’s grumpy girl?” Katie’s boyfriend cooed. “Does my little fussy-pants need her nappy changed?”

Katie whined and shook her head, sending her pigtails flying about her face. Her cheeks reddened with humiliation. Her nappy was soaked, and she desperately wanted out of the disgusting thing, but she’d long since learned that the best way to make sure she got a nappy change from Daddy was to throw a tantrum and insist she didn’t want one. Sometimes he’d punish her for being naughty, spanking her or putting her in time-out, but the punishments for not acting like a brat were much worse. The last time she’s been too much of a good girl, her bottom had been sore for a whole week.

“You’ve done wee-wees, little one,” Daddy said, a hint of malicious satisfaction in his voice. “Soggy babies need clean, dry nappies.”

Katie spat out her dummy and stomped her feet petulantly on her mattress. Her pissy nappy squished horribly against her nether parts, making her cringe with disgust. “Potty-panth pwintheth!” she screeched, as though she had no concept of an inside voice. Her face went even redder. That was another thing Daddy had trained her to do; he liked her to scream whenever she wanted something, and whine as loudly as she could, always with a ridiculous lisp, like some out-of-control little brat. She couldn’t understand why it didn’t just annoy him, but he just seemed to enjoy the fact that he’d conditioned her to behave like a spoilt child.

“You want to be my little potty-pants princess?” Daddy cooed, smirking. “Awww, that’s so cute! I know you want to squish around in your soggy nappy all day, baby, but you need changies. On your back, sweetie, and legs in the air so Daddy can wipe your icky bottom, just like usual.”

Katie screwed up her face and screamed at the top of her lungs. She jumped off the bed and fell to the floor, beating the carpet with her fists and kicking her legs madly. Not so long ago she’d been a mature, dignified adult woman, but Daddy had turned her into a screeching toddler with no manners or patience – a fussy baby who threw a tantrum whenever she didn’t get her way, or even caused a scene just because she wasn’t getting enough attention. Daddy’s overgrown little girl, forever trapped in her terrible twos. Some of her friends were being put through regression training as well, but they were allowed to be good girls. They didn’t have to throw their food on the floor, or stick their tongues out and blow raspberries at people, or pretend they wanted to stay in their yucky nappies.

“I don’t WANNA nappy change!” Katie shrieked. Tears of humiliation were running down her cheeks, but she kept up her stupid tantrum. She didn’t want to find herself over Daddy’s knee, screaming for real.

“Bad baby!” Daddy scolded, walking over to her and delivering several sharp smacks to her bottom. They stung, but it was nothing compared to Daddy’s proper spankings. “Very naughty girl!”

Katie continued to whimper and cry, but she stopped her childish stamping and flailing. She knew Daddy was satisfied with her babyish outburst.

“Come here, precious,” Daddy said gently, pulling Katie into his arms. “You’re my little handful, sweetie. My naughty little brat. But Daddy loves you all the same.” Katie snuggled her face into the crook of his neck and hugged him tightly. She couldn’t help but feel a pleasant tingling in her tummy at his words. “Now lie down, little one. Time to get you into a nice, clean, dry nappy.”

[rayslittlekitten]

Not All Leaves Turn in Autumn

“You Got This” Masterlist

A/N: So this week's @writer-wednesday prompt inspired something. It's been a while since I've visited this universe. This would take place before "Carry Me Home" but a year after Jax and reader charcter breaks up and he's with Tara. I know I still haven't written what happened between them and I've just been filling in different parts of the story in pieces. One day, all the pieces will be there (hopefully!) Also, this isn't beta'd.

Rating: T

Word Count: ~1500

Pairing: Teenager!Jax Teller & Teenager F! Reader/OC; OC (Johnny) x Teenager F! Reader/OC (Opie's sister)

Plot: Things don't turn out as expected when you introduce your new boyfriend to your friends and family.

Contains: marijuana use, kissing, jealousy, assault, cursing, angst

Your junior year just started not too long ago and fall season approached quickly. The weather’s gotten cooler, the leaves are starting to turn and Halloween decorations are everywhere. What you enjoy the most about this season are all the fun activities that come with it: the hayrides, the haunted houses, pumpkin picking and so much more festivities. Aside from the MC being a big contributor, families gather together and people of all ages are just having a good wholesome time. Traditionally it’s been you, Jax, Opie and other friends smoking weed before going into the haunted house getting the crap scared out of yourselves to getting lost in corn mazes.

This year, things are a bit different. Jax and Opie just graduated high school in June and they both have their own girlfriends to take up all their time now. You have your own boyfriend too, but it’s the first time you’re bringing him around your family and friends. The two of you met and hit it off in a math class during a summer school program a few months back and haven’t stopped talking since. He’s a real sweet kid and you’re completely smittened. 

You’re nervously waiting by the entrance where a giant scarecrow greets people as they pass through. You glance at your watch and tap your booted toe.

“Is this guy ever gonna show up?” your brother asks.

“He’s only fifteen minutes late! Chill the fuck out,” you shoot back.

“This nerd is probably not even real,” Jax scoffs.

They’ve all heard about this guy but have never seen him. 

“Shut up! You’re a nerd!” You shove Jax and he stumbles back a bit, accidentally bumping into Tara.

“Come on, guys! Leave her alone. This is her first boyfriend. Be nice,” Tara jumps in to defend you.

If she only knew. 

“Screw this. I’m not waiting around for this imaginary guy. See you guys later,” Jax says, grabbing Tara’s hand before taking off. She throws a small wave to the group while being led away.

Despite Jax falling head over heels for Tara, you can’t really hate her. She’s always been nice to you and to be honest, it’s nice to have another female around, but you’re not sure how she’s stuck around for this long. Miss Community College doesn’t seem quite cut out for the MC life, but she’s committed to Jax and has a tattoo to prove it. You’ve also seen the way Gemma looks at her and talks about her. That’s one big obstacle no amount of tattoos is ever going to be enough to overcome.

“You okay waiting here by yourself?” Opie asks. “Katie wants a candy apple–”

“Don’t put this on me! You’re the one who wants one,” Kate cuts in and playfully slaps his arm.

“It’s fine. Go have fun. I’ll find you guys later,” you reply.

“You sure?” Opie asks again.

“Yes! Just go,” you chuckle and gently shove him. 

Opie reaches to ruffle the top of your hair before taking off. You swat his hand away and frantically fix your hair. You had spent a good amount of time this morning on it. After seemingly putting every strand back in place, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You instantly turn around to find your boyfriend flashing a smile at you.

“Johnny! You made it!” you squeal, but realize you sounded a bit too excited so you try to keep your cool.

“Yeah, sorry I’m late. I was helping my mom with the groceries,” Johnny apologizes as he rubs the back of his neck.

“It’s alright.” Your cheeks heat up as you tuck a loose chunk of hair behind your ear. “Anyways, come on. I want you to meet my brother and friends.”

Johnny is well aware of your association with the Sons. There is no hiding it when you live in a small town, but he doesn’t care. In fact, he looks forward to putting a face on some of the names you talk about all the time. With that, you grab his hand and the two of you go on your merry way.

***

It’s been maybe an hour or so since Jax and Tara had left the group and they haven’t circled back with anyone yet. They’ve lost track of time as they’ve been too busy getting lost in the corn maze and stopping every once in a while to makeout and grope each other while sharing a joint. As they try to find their way out, they hear some suspicious noises in the distance.

“Sounds like we’re not the only ones having a good time in here,” Jax whispers and chuckles quietly after taking a hit of the joint in his hand and passing it to Tara.

“All the teenagers are doing it,” she rolls her eyes, taking the joint from him.

As they continue to make their way through the maze, the noises get louder and more lewd, their path forcing them to listen to this hot and heavy private moment.

“No, stop! It tickles!”

Jax’s ears suddenly perk up. He recognizes that voice. 

“Just for a little bit?”

“I don’t know.”

“I won’t go all the way in.”

He hears soft moaning and his feet move quicker. His perked up ears are now bright red.

“Where are you going?” Tara asks as she tries to keep up.

When he rounds a corner, he finds you cornered against the tall wall of corn by Johnny with his hand under your skirt. Suddenly, Jax grabs the back of Johnny’s shirt and yanks him off of you. You flinch at the unexpected interruption.

“Jackson!” you shout as you pull your shirt and skirt down to cover yourself and rush over to where Jax flung Johnny on the ground. “Leave Johnny alone! What are you doing?!”

“Oh, so you’re Johnny. You are real. So I hear you’re good with math,” Jax says as he hovers over Johnny. “Maybe you can solve this for me: Johnny has a whole set of white pearly teeth. If I beat his face in with my two fists, how many teeth will Johnny have left?” he threatens.

“Jackson!” You grab onto Jax’s kutte and try to pull him off Johnny. 

“The lady said no!” With one hand grasping Johnny’s shirt, Jax’s other ringed fist is cocked back.

“What the hell?” Tara finally catches up and stumbles into the scene.

“Tara! Help me get him off!” You shout.

Tara ditches the joint and rushes over, grabbing Jax’s forearm to prevent him from slamming it into Johnny’s face. Finally with the combination of both of you and Tara, you’re able to drag Jax away. He’s a lot stronger than he appears for someone who looks 150 pounds when wet.

While still on the ground, Johnny scrambles away from Jax.

“Hey, I didn’t mean any harm.” He puts his hands up. “I was being respectful.”

“It sure as fuck didn’t sound like it to me!” Jax lunges at Johnny but you and Tara are holding him back. Johnny flinches and gets up on his feet.

“Johnny’s a nice guy! He wouldn’t force himself on me.” You step in between him and Johnny.

This certainly was not the way you had intended for them to meet, but you’re also not surprised by Jax’s behavior. Despite the fact he's the one who ended what the two of you had, his jealousy disguised as protectiveness ever since then did not go unnoticed by you.

“I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot, but I understand you’re just being protective of her and I appreciate–” Johnny starts off.

“Shut the fuck up! As far as I know, you were being a fucking creep. You don’t get to touch her,” Jax growls as he points his finger at him.

“Fuck off, Jackson! Johnny’s my boyfriend and we can makeout and fuck all we want. We don’t need your permission,” you shoot back, stepping up to him.

“I’m gonna tell Ope,” Jax threatens.

“Go ahead. Just don’t leave out the part where you assaulted Johnny because I was consensually making out with him.” You cross your arms over your chest. 

You notice Jax’s jaw ticking and his breathing getting deeper and heavier. 

“Are… are you sure you’re okay?” Tara asks you sincerely while trying to focus on you. “Do you want to come with me and Jax?”

“I’m fine! Just leave us alone,” you reply.

“Okay, come on Jax. She said she’s fine.” Tara tugs on his hoodie sleeve. “Let’s try to find our way out. The munchies are kicking in.”

Both you and Jax stare each other down with snarls until finally Jax lets up after Tara gives him another pull.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Johnny. See you around.” 

As Jax and Tara start walking away, Jax stares Johnny down. He glances at you for a moment and you see the green in his ice cold blue eyes right before he turns facing front. He shrugs Tara’s hand off his bicep as he continues to walk away.

[redrobin-detective]

Half of

Danny Fenton was half ghost. Or something.

No one was quite sure what that meant exactly or if it was even true. A ghost in a pure white suit had announced it during an attack on the town until he was beaten and silenced by Phantom. It’s been three days since then and the nerd hasn’t been at school. Not that Dash was looking for him or anything.

Dash worried, for just a second, that something bad happened to him. The Guys in White creeps had been asking questions around school the last few days. There’d been a noticeable lack in ghost attacks around town, maybe another ghost got to him? What about his ghost obsessed parents? Surely they wouldn’t have done anything to their own kid...

“Think Danny will be in school today?” Kwan whispered nervously, leaning in close to Dash’s side. Talking too loudly about the elephant, or ghost he guesses, in the room got people very forcefully interviewed by the government. 

“Why the hell would I know?” Dash grumbled, shaking his friend off to shove his hands deep into the pockets of his letterman jacket. “No one knows what’s going on, Manson and Foley haven’t shown up either.”

“I hope they’re ok,” Kwan said quietly, looking down at the floor. 

“Why do you care?” Dash grumbled, harsher than he meant to.

“You and everyone ditched me for Danny when Paulina was dating him, remember? Sam and Tucker were real pals and Danny, well he’s weird but not really that bad.” Kwan said bitterly before his eyebrows twisted in confusion. “That was actually pretty out of character for Paulina to date him now that I think about it, maybe he was, like, using ghost magic to control her?”

“That’s stu-” Dash was interrupted by the usually noise of Casper High going dead silent. He and Kwan shrugged at each other. He saw Star down the hallway, staring at something. He caught her eye and mouthed What is it at her. Her eyes slid back over to the hall before mouthing Fenton back. 

“Shit,” Dash couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Fenton’s here.” He glanced over at Kwan, trying to hide his nervousness. “Guess we’ll find out if he’s some sort of ghost freak after all.”

Kwan eyed him for a second, “you know if Danny really is half of a ghost then maybe you’ll want to quit it with the names.” The warning bell rang for first period. “You guys have homeroom together with Lancer, right? Just, I don’t know, don’t make him mad or anything.”

“Man, don’t even joke,” Dash said with a strained smile. “It’s Fenton, what’s the nerd gonna do?”

XxX

Fenton always sat in the back right of the class so seeing him there wasn’t that strange. What was strange was that he was there before the bell rang, not looking sweaty or exhausted or beaten up. Seeing him sitting there with an almost bored expression, casually leaning one arm over the back of his chair. It was eerie, seeing Fenton try to act normal. Dash felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on his head as he stiffly walked by the nerd he usually smacked when he walked by. He thought he felt Fenton’s icy eyes following him as he passed. Dash made sure he didn’t scurry like a wimp to his seat but it was a close thing.

“Class, please stop staring at Mr. Fenton and let us begin,” Lancer sighed, unsuccessfully trying to start the class.

“Do you know the ghost boy?” Paulina asked, slamming her palms on her desk and ignoring their teacher. “Because if you’ve been holding out on me-”

“I mean everyone in Amity Park knows him,” Fenton shrugged. He’d been so chill this morning, like the whole thing wasn’t bothering him. It only made Dash more antsy. He bounced his leg under the desk.

“Can you do anything cool? Like fly or shoot lasers from your eyes?” Mikey asked, leaning forward with curiosity.

“I can do lots of cool things,” Fenton sniffed. “I know a lot about the space program and local astronomy. I draw sometimes and I’m think I’m pretty good. I also have super flexible joints so I can do this.” He grinned a little as everyone squealed when he bent his thumb back so far it nearly touched his wrist. “Of course,” his grin turned into an eye roll, “no one really cares about that only my supposed superpowers.”

“What is a half of, exactly? What that ghost called you?” Dash found himself asking. He almost didn’t want to be heard but Fenton turned to look at him anyways. 

“What do you think it means?” Fenton questioned back. Though he had a teasing smirk, his eyes looked dull and dead. Dash couldn’t look at them and ducked his head. 

“Alright, alright, enough with the questions. The Fenton’s gave Danny a clean bill of health and allowed him to rejoin class so that’s all you kids need to know. Now, back to what we were actually talking about.” Class continued as expected but everyone still snuck glances at Fenton. He’s not sure what they were all waiting for, him to suddenly turn green or sprout horn or whatever. But Fenton just sat there, still as anything, trying to act normal and it just didn’t fit him right and it was all just. Wrong.

XxX

Dash was relieved Fenton wasn’t in his second or third period classes but they did have the same lunchtime. For the first time since he was skinny, bucktoothed 6th grader, Dash wanted to hide away and eat his lunch in private. But Fenton wasn’t the only one trying to keep up appearances.

“Alright, what has everyone got,” Paulina was whispering to the table by the time Dash was sitting down. “The day is halfway over, someone had to have seen him doing something ghostly.”

“I mean we don’t know how long he’s been like this,” Star commented, flipping her hair as pretense to sneak a glance at the loser trio near the back entrance of the cafeteria. “He could’ve been hiding his for a while.”

“Fenton’s always been weird,” Dale commented with a sneer, stabbing at his beefaroni. “Since day one, he’s been jumpy and clumsy and goes through weird mood swings.”

“Maybe he’s never been normal,” Kwan said with a little frown. Now Dash knows this wasn’t true. He was the only one at the table who’d gone to the same middle school as Fenton. The nerd had talked too much about space and was always tripping over something but he’d been like all the other annoying brats in middle school. Dale was onto something, Fenton had changed once high school hit which means whatever is up with him as been going on for a while. Years. 

He suddenly felt eyes on him, a cold, crawling feeling that made his breath catch in his throat. Dash squeezed his eyes shut and breathed a silent sigh of relief as the eyes turned from him. They didn’t return but Dash found he couldn’t eat after that.

XxX

“Dude, did you hear about Fenton?” Victor said in an excited but still hushed whisper as Dash was leaving fifth period. 

“No, what did he do?” Dash asked with dread.

“He had gym last period and apparently he’s been faking his loser weakness. He crawled up the rope climb like a goddamned spider monkey and then slid himself back down. Don’t know how he didn’t have intense rope burn from that. He also beat Charlie, Katie and Veronica on the sprinting portion. Must be those ghosty genes.”

“Fenton did all that?” Dash asked, he bit the inside of his cheek. Hard.

“Yeah it was crazy, I thought Tetslaf was gonna pass out,” Victor laughed. “Maybe we should get him to try out for the football team, he’d be a great running back or-”

“Come on, Vic,” Dash laughed but the sound came out wrong. “Why would we want Fenton on our team? He’s, he’s Fenton! Just a skinny, weird little wimp.” Vic side-eyed him a bit before clapping Dash on the back.

“World’s changing, Dash. First ghosts, now half ghosts, it’s all wrong but you just gotta roll with it. All I know is I have 2 years left in this hell hole before I leave this miserable place for Chicago and never look back. I recommend you do the same, after all,” Vic grinned again but it was sharper. “Fenton’s always been your personal punching bag, not every day you learn your victim has superpowers.”

“We don’t know what the hell is up with Fenton,” Dash defended. Vic just shrugged.

“Yeah but he’s always been a freak now we know he ain’t human. Who knows what else he’s hiding?” Vic said with a smug smile before wandering off, giving a halfhearted wave over his shoulder as he left.

Dash stood in the hallway, trying to get himself under control until the warning and late bell rang. Only then, when he was certain he wouldn’t run into Fenton, did he head to class. 

XxX

“Should we follow him, see where he goes?” Paulina said, biting onto one of her nails in nervous excitement. Paulie was gorgeous and overall pretty cool but her thing with ghosts sometimes tired Dash out. Now more than ever. 

“Come on, that’s like stalking,” Kwan scolded. “Even if that wasn’t illegal or whatever it’s just not cool. They had a rough day today, leave ‘em alone.” That icy chill returned and Dash looked out of the corner of his eye to see Fenton and his cronies walking out of the school. 

Truthfully, Dash didn’t think Fenton had that bad of a day. Yeah people were asking questions but he’d side stepped them all, gave non-answers. Other people talked about Fenton’s supposed strength in gym but there’d been conflicting reports, some said he flew up the rope climb, others said he levitated doing his push ups. Dash really didn’t know what to believe. Fenton was just acting, well, like Fenton. He paused for a second, stopped walking before catching up with the group.

Maybe... maybe Dash was getting caught up over nothing. There really was no proof Fenton was this ‘half of’ other than what one dumb ghost said. He thought back to Fenton’s grin during first period; stupid nerd was probably milking his 15 minutes of fame and bully free time. His earlier fear and uncertainty burst into flames until a familiar anger was burning in his gut. Now this he knew what to do with.

“Yeah, well his day is about to get rougher,” Dash heard himself say as he stomped off to where Fenton was smiling tiredly at something Manson was saying. “Hey Fentonio! Think you’re pretty cool with every paying attention to you but I-”

Fenton gasped suddenly, like a hiccup only his breath misted out in front of him cold as a winter’s day. Dash stopped midsentence watching as Fenton’s whole face twisted. His earlier weary but tolerant annoyance that he’d been projecting all day was stripped away. He glared at Dash with an expression that was hard as ice and full of an exhaustion and bitterness he couldn’t begin to understand.

“As payment for being forcibly outed,” Fenton spoke up loudly enough that most of the school yard could hear him. “I was promised a week.” His eyes slowly but methodically scanned the crowd who had frozen in place at his authoritative tone. “Where I didn’t have to deal with ghosts, so I want to know... Who is trespassing on my haunt.”

Fenton’s mouth opened impossibly wide revealing what seemed like rows of sharped teeth. He curled his fingers into claws and, looking closer, his fingernails had indeed become real claws, as sharp and deadly as his teeth. His eyes blazed an impossible, ectoplasmic green and his dark hair developed streaks of white. He was terrifying, monstrous, but he was still Fenton. That feeling that had been eating at dash all day came back full force. Not the realization that Fenton had powers or whatever but that he had been hiding it in plain sight through ghost attacks and bullies and failing grades. This had always been Fenton, they just hadn’t seen. Until now that is.

And now the script had flipped and Dash didn’t know how this Ghost Fenton, who still was the same Fenton Dash had wedgied last Wednesday, fit. A green blob ghost materialized over by stairs, quivering and wailing in some ghost language. It turned and fled, presumably in the direction of the Fenton Portal to escape Fenton’s wrath. Fenton’s glowing eyes tracked it for a moment before he straightened up from his hunched posture and... was human again.

He brushed his hands through his black hair, lazily blinked blue eyes and, when he smiled, his teeth were normal. But Dash had seen, they all had. He’d let them see but to what end, he had no idea. Fenton turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow and another small smirk, just as tired as earlier.

“Sorry about that Dash, I take my vacation time very seriously. You were saying?” Fenton said with a smug lilt but his eyes were still dead and there was a bit of fear in them now. Despite his powers, he still gripped his backpack tightly.

“When your dumb little vacation’s up, Fentionail,” Dash said with a shaky voice. “It’s-it’s back to business, okay? Punches and wedgies and locker shoving. You,” he voice cracked a bit and he fought it down. “It’ll ramp up now that I know you can take it.” Fenton blinked, once then twice before he smiled. This time it wasn’t annoyed or scary or fearful but like the dumb grins he usually gave his dumb friends. 

“Yeah okay, we’ll start back up next week. The usual time?” Dash nodded, not knowing what else to say. “Alright, see you around.” He turned to walk away before pausing and turning back. “Actually you should be careful on who you shove into lockers, it can get hard to breathe in there and not everyone can phase out of them. You never know who’ll turn up dead,” he grinned and his eyes flashed green again, “if only half.”

That said, he and his friends walked away, ignoring the stares of the entire school on them. “Oh and it’s halfa, not half of,” Fenton called out over his shoulder. “I’m not half of anything, I’m just a whole me even if the details get a bit complicated.”

“Bye Danny, see you tomorrow,” Kwan called after with a grimace. No one else said anything for a minute until Dash found the strength to move his legs from where they’d been planted. He clenched his fists to hide his shaking and continued his walk home. Everyone else slowly did the same, talking quietly among themselves.

“What the hell was that?” Dale asked in a nervous high pitched voice. “What the hell did I just see?”

“Fenton being a weirdo but that’s nothing new,” Dash shrugged with a confidence he didn’t have yet. But if Fenton could show up to school after being outed and then willingly show them his inhumanity, then Dash needed to up his game. Couldn’t let the nerd be cool or anything. “So what if he glows or whatever, he’s still Fenton. Look I gotta get home, it’s Pookie’s feeding time and he is NOT going to believe the day I had.