#Caulfield Cup

[givemegifs]

[goddaniiit]

❝ Wherever I End Up After This... In Whatever Reality... All Those Moments Between Us Were Real, And They'll Always Be Ours. ❞ 

Max Caulfield CN | Preshoosh Warren Graham CN | @thatgirldanielle Event | Alliance Cup X Cosplay Competition

[loveysloveclub]

untouchable - trevor zegras

next part

in which, lola hughes could never date her big brothers best friend. he was untouchable in every sense of the word.

going to the lake house had always been lola’s favourite time of the year. she didn’t think she could love it anymore, that was, until trevor zegras started showing up every year about four years ago.

from the second the girl saw the boy, him being 18 and her 15 at the time, she was completely infatuated.

but over the years, her infatuation began to become tormenting. her brothers had their suspicions. they all knew her like the back of their hands, so, it was completely out of the ordinary when the outgoing girl suddenly became shy and introverted every time the zegras boy was around. they found it amusing, especially since not only would trevor never feel the same (meaning he wasn’t allowed to feel the same) but he was also completely oblivious to the fact.

so, after years of torment, lola knew that this year was going to be no different. in fact, it was probably going to be worse.

her parents had decided to take a summer trip to europe, which meant that the amount of her brothers friends that would be staying at the lake house would be amplified. which meant, she was only going to become more invisible than she already was.

she was the first to arrive that summer, being able to finally drive by herself after the impossible mission which was getting her license. she had gotten frozen yoghurt from the shop just a few mere minutes away from the house and was currently sat at the kitchen table eating it whilst scrolling tiktok aimlessly, awaiting the arrival of her brothers who she hadn’t seen since christmas.

the door opened, announcing the arrival of the first hughes brother, which happened to be luke. and by the sounds of loud laughter, he wasn’t alone.

“lolly!” luke exclaimed when he saw his younger sister sitting by her lonesome. looking up from her phone, she smiled at her brother and the four other boys who were with him. she recognised one as dylan duke, luke’s best friend for like forever, but she wasn’t sure who the others were.

“is that frozen yoghurt?” one of the boys asked. the girl nodded at her head, looking down at the frozen yoghurt that she was finished with before sliding it over to him. the boy thanked her loudly before grabbing the cup and taking the seat next to her. “mark.” the boy introduced himself, mouth full of mango flavoured sorbet. “lola.” the brunette girl smiled back.

“fine, i’ll take your shit upstairs, no worries man.” ethan rolled his eyes at his friend before walking passed the two and up to where all the bedroom were. luke followed, ruffling up his sisters hair as he did so.

“god, ethan has been grumpy the entire trip.” mark complained, offering lola some of her own frozen yoghurt, to which she denied. “he turned off the radio once i started singing along, i took it personally.” dylan told the girl as he sat down on the other side of her.

“and for that, we are eternally grateful.” the last boy smiled sarcastically before also taking his belongings upstairs. “was he also grumpy the entire trip?” lola asked as she watched the boy leave. “no, mackie is in a permanent state of grump.”

lola laughed before the three fell into a comfortable small talk. they asked her questions about college, scrunching up their face when she told them she would be going to boston, they then proceeded to call her a traitor and would seek her out at every hockey game to remind her. they were even more offended when she told them that she had also gotten into michigan, but had still chosen to go to boston.

the front door had opened once more, interrupting the trios new conversation about what they wanted to do that summer.

jack entered, followed by alex and cole. lola jumped from her seat at the sight of the caulfield boy. “coley!” she exclaimed before tackling him in a suffocating hug. jack scoffed from behind the two, hating how his little sister liked his best friend more than him. “rude.”

“sorry jack, you’re so right.” lola smiled at her older brother before turning to alex, also jumping him in a hug. jack only rolled his eyes before travelling over to the fridge and opening it. “there’s no food.”

“go get some then.” lola shot back, crossing her arms when jack looked over at her with an expectant look. “but i don’t know what to get.”

“get food.” lola retorted like it was obvious. “can you go and get it?” he asked. “no, why is that my job?” lola shot back.

and alas, summer had finally began when lola and jack began to argue. the sun beamed hot and the boat swayed calmly in the water at the sound of the two bickering.

jack had stopped arguing, opting to just holding his card out to the girl. cole and alex, who saw this every year, smiled at the refreshing sight. lola eyed the card before snatching it out of his hand. “fine, but i’m buying myself something pretty.”

“we’ll come with you.” dylan spoke from the kitchen counter, mark nodding his head as they both got up from their spot. “thank you, new found friends.”

what was supposed to be a short trip to the grocery store, ended up a thirty minute food run and a two hour target adventure. lola had quickly realised that both mark and dylan were the perfect enablers to all her bad decisions. they had run around target like children without adult supervision until a worker had told them to leave.

coming back to the lake house, there were a few more cars outside and a lot more noise inside. all the boys were huddled in the living room when the three arrived back home, yelling at a tv screen which had a very intense game of mario kart playing on it.

“quinny!” lola exclaimed before jumping on the boy. quinn laughed before moving his sister beside him and wrapping an arm around her. lola loved all her brothers equally, but quinn was very obviously her favourite. “hi lolly.”

“really? i didn’t even get a hug!” jack exclaimed from the other side of the room. “i didn’t even get a hello!” luke countered. lola shrugged nonchalantly before refocusing her attention back to the screen.

“i got next.” trevor told everyone as he walked into the room. lola tensed at the sight of the boy, quinn laughing at her reaction silently. trevor glanced at the girl, his signature smile overtaking his face as he saw her. “what’s up, littlest hughes?”

she hated how he called her that. it reminded her of how he was never going to see her as anything but his best friends little sister. he couldn’t even call her by her name? really?!

“hi, z.” the girls voice was quiet, but just loud enough for everyone paying attention to hear it. those people being her brothers and mark, the estapa boy frowning at her reaction.

“babe!” a high pitched voice rang across the room as a bleached blonde, model type woman walked into the room. at the sight of one of the boys girlfriends, excitement filled lola up at the fact that she might not be the only girl here this summer. she could actually do things she wanted to do now, like get her nails done or tan.

but when trevors head perked up, and he got up from his spot on the floor to make his way over to the unknown girl, all excitement left her body. she watched intently as the two shared words before trevor nodded his head and guided his girlfriend up the stairs by the small of her back.

“whose that?” lola whispered to her older brother, who quickly took his eyes off the game to glance over to the retreating couple. “her names hayley, she’s trevor’s new girlfriend. she’s real nice, i’m sure you’d like her.” but as lola nodded her head stiffly, crossing her arms and sinking into the couch, quinn realised how wrong he was.

later that night, all the boys had retreated outside to play a game of.. well, lola wasn’t sure what it was but they basically just kicked a ball around. she had been playing with them all before jack kicked the ball too hard at her head, causing her to fall on the concrete and bust up her knees. after that, she had opted to sitting on the sidelines and watching.

she had been so caught up at quinn and luke avenging her by pegging the ball so hard at jack that he yelped every time they got their hands on it, that she didn’t even notice the boy approaching her.

“hey, littlest hughes.” she smiled up at the zegras boy, “i brought you a little something.” the boy took a seat beside her before handing her a bag of frozen peas. “stupid jack, always doing something to annoy me.” she said before taking the bag of peas. “thank you.”

she couldn’t help but gaze like a lovesick puppy at the boy, who paid no mind to the way she looked at him as he laughed at her remark.

“you know i’ll always be here to give you frozen peas when jack injures you. happens at least once every summer.”

this was true. jack had a habit of hurting his younger sister every summer, purposefully or accidentally. it didn’t matter, it just always happened somehow. one summer, he had to save her from drowning as she sprained her ankle when jack pushed her into the water. she still remembers how angry quinn was, it makes her laugh to this day. but everytime, trevor always showed up with a bag of frozen peas, whether she was crying in her bedroom or laying hopelessly on the floor of the kitchen.

“at least we got it out of the way this summer.” lola shrugged. “eh, it’ll probably happen again. you’re accident prone.” trevor laughed. lola scoffed loudly before hitting him in the arm repeatedly with the bag of peas. this only enhanced his laughter as the two began to hit each other with the same bag of peas.

“babe,” hayley approached the two, raising an eyebrow at the twos pea fight. lola felt as if she had been caught in the act, but trevor was nonchalant as he looked up at his girlfriend. “the boys want you back.”

trevor nodded as he climbed to his feet, “let me know when those ones melt, i’ll give you a fresh batch.” he winked playfully at the hughes girl before running back to his friends. both hayley and lola watched him leave with similar smiles before the blonde girl took a seat beside lola.

“hi lola.” she greeted. “hi hayley.” lola greeted back, an awkward smile displayed on her face. the two fell into an uncomfortable silence. hayley was the first to break it. “so, how long have you had a crush on trevor?”

out of all the questions she could have asked, this was the one that lola was least expecting. she almsot spit out her glass of water she was sipping on. "e-excuse me?"

hayley laughed at her response, "please, i see the way you look at him. plus, trev told me how you follow him around all summer. i think it's cute, really." lola couldn't tell if she was being genuine or not, which only make her more intimidated by the girl in front of her. "but hey, we've all been there, right?"

now, lola was even more confused. "been where?"

"had a crush on someone would never want us back."

god every word that left the girls mouth made lola's skin crawl. she wanted to punch the girl in the face, but lola also knew she was right.

"i mean, it's not like trevor would ever want you back. he's your brother's best friend and he's with me now."

lola nodded her head along to the girl's words, her mind running a million miles a minute. "i'm glad you understand that. see ya 'round." and with that, hayley was walking over to the group of boys to watch from a closer angle.

she wasn't sure if she should be mad or upset by the girl's words. i mean, everything she had told her she already knew. but she didn't need to be confronted about it. and trevor had told her that she followed him around all summer? that was probably what hurt her the most. she thought her and trevor were hanging out, but he apparently found it more annoying than he let on.

looking over at the group of boys, lola's faced etched in a large frown, she made eye contact with luke. her brother tilted his head in questioning, to which she just shook her head in response. the boy's eyes found hayley, narrowing them at the girl before flipping her off when she wasn't looking. this produced a small laugh from the youngest hughes sister, which allowed luke to return to his game with a content smile.

"hey, i brought you this." lola's eyes snapped over to mark, who was standing over her with a bag of frozen carrots. his eyes fell to the bag of frozen peas in her hand, and his smile dropped. "oh, nevermind."

lola's eyes fleeted over to trevor, who was watching the interaction with a furrowed brow. "these one's are melted anyways, thank you." lola smiled back up at mark, taking the carrots from his hand and placing the peas onto the table.

mark's face lit up as he took a seat next to the younger hughes girl. the two sat in a comfortable silence, watching the game unravelling before them.

"did you want to go get frozen yoghurt?" mark suddenly asked, catching lola off guard as her head snapped over to him. the boy looked nervous, which was so unlike the boy she saw in target today throwing weighted blankets on top of dylan to make him fall over. she smiled shyly at him, nodding her head before standing up and grabbing his hand. both of their faces heated into a red hue, as lola guided him through the house and out the front door to his car.

trevor watched the two leave, a little hurt at the disregard of his frozen peas. it was a hughes summer lake house tradition, and she had broken it for some lousy carrots.

"z! throw the damn ball, bro!" alex exclaimed. trevor rolled his eyes before throwing the ball and turning his attention to jack. "your sister just left hand in hand with that estapa kid."

"who? mark?" luke hadn't meant to eavesdrop in on the conversation, but when he heard both his sister and his best friend being mentioned, he couldn't help himself. trevor nodded his head in response. he knew how protective the three brothers, especially jack, were over their little sister, which is why he brought it up in the first place.

"mark's a cool guy." luke shrugged his shoulders, "and lola can do whatever she wants." this wasn't the reaction trevor was hoping for, but he wasn't sure why he was hoping for the opposite.

"why do you care, anyways?" jack asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. sure, he didn't want his sister getting into a relationship, but he would deal with that later. however, he wasn't going to let trevor, the boy he knew lola had liked for years, ruin her fun.

"i don't, man. just thought i would let you know." trevor shrugged, before walking off to find his own girlfriend.

when the boy was finally out of ear sight, jack pulled his phone out of his pocket. "what are you doing?" luke asked his older brother.

"telling lola that she better not be doing anything she shouldn't be."

[whimsicalcotton]

36 on the kiss meme?

36 - to give up control

you didn't give me a particular ship so i'm gonna take the liberty of providing myself w more apf because i. am insatiable.

^^^ that's what i said before i started writing and then i got lost in the amberfield sauce. like actually idk what came over me but i straight up just wrote 4.5k of pointless/shameless rachel&max flirting and then took Several days to edit it. sorry? sorry.

--- --- ---

Max Caulfield likes to be sure of herself before she tries something. 

Like, super extra mega double absolutely positively one hundred percent sure. It's caused some problems over the years, and maybe everyone else finds it somewhat irksome, but she needs at least some degree of certainty if she has any hope of working past that initial burst of anxiety that so often arises at the mere thought of doing something unfamiliar. So she tends to stick to the sidelines. Asking a lot of questions she hardly puts to use, watching on as others are able to effortlessly do things she can scarcely bring herself to imagine. 

Chloe's been helping her out with it. Or at least attempting to. Serving as the (mostly) gentle push Max needs to step out of her comfort zone, trying to teach her how to be a little more impulsive, but always remaining patient and reassuring when Max finds herself in over her head or chickening out. 

And then there's Rachel.

Rachel helps in a… different way. Max thinks she overheard Chloe calling it, “throwing her to the wolves,” in a conversation that probably wasn't meant for her ears. 

Whatever it is, it’s how Max finds herself in the blaring lights and veritable sea of drunken bodies known as a party. But it's fine. It's been fine. She’s just been hanging onto Chloe for dear life and trying to remember how to talk like a normal person whenever someone spoke to them. No biggie, no problem.

And then they lost Rachel. And Chloe's immediate response was, “Goddamnit, not again.” That definitely added a few points to the metaphorical uncertainty metre. 

Though they still had fun off on their own for a bit. Chloe even mixed her one of those infamous red solo cup drinks, so she's getting a good grade in acting like a normal high-schooler tonight; something that is totally not weird of her to want and surprisingly difficult to achieve. It sort of helped and sort of made it worse that Chloe kept checking in with her every so often, looking at her like she was expecting Max to crack at any second. 

Max misses the looks. She realizes it as she's wandering through yet another unfamiliar hallway, semi-frantically looking around whatever rooms she finds, having now lost both Rachel and Chloe. She doesn't know half the faces here, let alone names, so if anyone has to be looking at her she'd really, really prefer it be Chloe. 

Alas, for the moment it's just a bunch of strangers’ gazes darting over to her every time she pokes her head into a room, searing into her skin even if only a momentary glance. Not to mention everything everywhere is so goddamn loud. Like, unreasonably loud. I don't know how anyone else's ears aren't bleeding loud. Even in rooms where the music is barely audible, there's chatting and laughing and a hundred conversations all happening at once. And don't even get her started on the lights downstairs.

She's just beginning to debate the merits of tearing her hair out over everything when she nearly crashes into yet another girl she doesn't know. 

“Sorry,” she squeaks out, wincing at the sound of her voice. “M-My bad. I didn’t mean to.”

The stranger beams down at her. “Hey, no worries. I saw you come in with Rachel, didn't I?”

Max nods vigorously before realizing she probably looks ridiculous and uttering an, “Uhm, yeah,” in its place. “Have you seen her?”

“Looking for her, huh? Aren't we all. She's pretty slippery when she wants to be.” The stranger leans in to put an arm around Max's shoulder, and she goes rigid as a board under the touch. “Come with me, I think I saw her over this way not that long ago.”

“You think?” Max asks, half in earnest and half in reactionary grouchiness. 

“Ooh, the puppy can bite,” answers the stranger, grinning at her with a hungry gleam in her eye. Max gulps. “Have a little faith in me. I've partied with Rachel before, I know where she likes to hang out.”

Max can feel her face going red. Maybe those stupid bright colored lights could actually be helpful right now. 

Thankfully the very touchy stranger does actually know what she's doing, and it doesn't take too much walking and weaving through the crowd to find a certain flannel-clad blonde. She's at the head of a table full of people playing cards, and Max has no idea what they're playing but it sure looks like Rachel is winning. She's got her signature big, bright, confident smile plastered across her face, and there's a pile of loose change, cigarettes, and joints off in her corner of the table; next to a small stack of empty solo cups. 

“Hey, Rach,” the stranger calls over to her, one arm still wrapped around Max. “Is this your lost puppy I've found?”

Everyone turns to look at her. Max’s face goes hot and she isn't sure if all the ensuing smiles are genuine or mocking and she still doesn't even know the name of the girl draped over her and –

“Maxie!” Rachel's voice is just as bright and boisterous as her winner's grin, and she too has taken to Chloe’s habit of calling her almost every iteration of her name under the sun. But Max is sort of grateful for it right now. “C’mere and watch me wipe the floor with these guys. We're almost done with this game.” 

The whole table grumbles in protest to Rachel's gloating, but Max doesn't need to be told twice. She ducks out of the stranger's grip and rushes to Rachel's side, half hidden behind her. She lets out a shakey sigh of relief, knowing there's at least a cap on her nerves now that she's near someone familiar. Usually Chloe is her designated safe person, but she's in no state to be picky, and next to Rachel feels about as safe as she can manage right now. 

Rachel looks back to give her a softer, sweeter smile before turning to the girl who brought her here. “My puppy,” she snaps, in full seriousness. “Paws off.”

The girl holds her hands up in mock defense and gives Rachel a scoff, turning to leave. 

“Sorry,” she tells Max in a laugh. “A girl's gotta stake her claim. She'd eat you up if I didn't.” 

Max chokes on nothing. “She'd what?”

“You heard me,” Rachel answers, pulling some cards from her hand and dropping her offering of cigarettes into the new betting pool at the centre of the table without really paying attention, practically playing with her eyes closed. “You are absolutely fucking adorable, after all.” 

Max short circuits for a minute while she tries to process the sentiment. A chorus of groans and grievances circle the table. 

“Goddamnit, again?”

“What are you a fucking wizard?”

“C'mon, Rach, you're bleeding me dry here.” 

“She barely even looked at her fucking cards! What the hell!” 

Rachel answers them all with that dazzling smile, tone honeyed and blithe. “I can't help that Lady Luck favors me so.” She nods towards Max beside her. “Especially now that I have my good luck charm with me. Back out while you still can.” 

That's something about Rachel that Max can't help but admire. That damn silver tongue, effortlessly charming and always sharp enough to quip back with ease. She's somehow bolder when she's been drinking, if such a thing is even possible. So far Max has only ever dealt with the aftermath of drunk-Rachel, she's never actually been around to watch it in action. She can see why the girl is often considered the life of the party, bouncing from conversation to conversation without a hitch and still managing to make a show of shuffling the deck all the while. 

“Where’s Chloe? Weren’t you guys sticking together?” 

Max startles back to attention, still disoriented from being off on her own and maybe the slightest bit buzzed from what little she had to drink earlier. She finds Rachel staring up at her with those all too alluring hazel eyes of hers. Maybe Max doesn't mind her looking, either. 

To say it's a struggle to get her voice working would be an understatement. “We were. And then we went looking for you and I– I got lost.”

Rachel hums as if considering a particularly tough equation. “Ah, I see, I see. Well, come sit with me for a bit. Chloe will find us eventually.”

Max raises an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure?” 

“Poor, sweet, Maximilian,” Rachel replies in her infamous Shakespearean drama voice. “Always so caught up in the pesky certainties of life. Sit, have a drink, see for yourself if I'm sure or not.” 

When Max continues standing there staring at her like a very confused fish out of water, Rachel offers her best impersonation of Chloe by grinning like a great, joyful fool and moving to tug Max down into her lap. Both hands gripping her small waist, relishing in the startled little eep it earns her. 

“C’mon, Caulfield. Live a little.” She drops her voice to a murmur, husky and low and so close to Max’s ear that she could probably nibble on it if she wanted to. Not that Max is thinking about that or anything. “You’ll be fine. I'll look after you, promise.” 

Max shivers and she knows that Rachel can feel every second of it, that she's enjoying it. For a minute still she debates what to do, but as much as she wants to find Chloe, Max also doesn’t want to get up and risk losing track of Rachel again. Besides, she’s probably right. Chloe will find them eventually. She shouldn’t get so caught up in knowing every last detail ahead of time, that’s the whole point of why they brought her here. Like Rachel said, she should live a little.

So she takes in a breath of that jasmine perfume Rachel's so fond of, tries to relax in her hold, and asks what game they’re playing.

Rachel is all too happy to talk her through it as she deals everyone’s hand, putting an unequivocally silly amount of theatrics into her explanation, not that that stops everybody from hanging onto her every word. Even if most of them have undoubtedly heard the whole spiel before. Max then proceeds to watch her demolish everyone at another few rounds, midway through which someone brings them both a refill of something fruity and red.

“You made mine a double, right?” Rachel calls after them.

“They’re both doubles,” they answer with an enthusiastic thumbs up and a foolish grin, before disappearing back into the crowd outside.

“Sorry about that,” Rachel offers with a half bashful, half guilty expression. “Don't worry if you can't finish yours, I'll take it.” She pauses for a moment, laughs to herself. “Although it would be kinda fun to see you go wild for once.” 

And Max, perhaps incentivized by all the physical affection or perhaps looking for a way to enjoy it without feeling like she's going to blow up, takes that as a challenge. “It's okay,” she assures, with far too much determination for her own good, a hamfisted plot to impress already forming in her mind. “I can handle it.”

First things first, she takes a massive gulp of whatever was just handed to her. Then, instead of whatever the hell she thought she was gonna do, she grimaces like she just swallowed a brick. 

Rachel laughs, a brilliant, golden sound that serves as higher reward than Max could ever hope for. “Easy there, tiger,” she says, holding Max a little tighter, closer. “You’ve gotta pace yourself.” 

“Sorry,” Max splutters in return. “I'm not used to this.” 

“I can tell.” Rachel laughs again, this one slow and syrupy; eyes roaming Max’s face with reckless abandon. “Don’t worry, I think it's cute.” 

“Jesus, get a room,” one of the boys at the table huffs. “I thought we were playing cards here.” 

“I'm in one,” Rachel replies without missing a beat, delightfully glib and sounding far too proud of herself. “And I think you mean losing at cards here. Read ‘em and weep, fellas.” 

She lays her cards out for everyone to see with decidedly cocky flair, all but basking in the latest bout of cursing her name to fly around the table. She offers Max a victory toast, giggling once more at the girl's sour expression and knocking back half of her own drink without even flinching. By the time Rachel actually comes out of a round empty handed, they've had so many victory toasts that Max can't remember just how long they've been here. Long enough that she's been able to arrange their hoard of treasure into several smaller piles. Long enough that the sensory onslaught she'd been so arduously fighting through feels a thousand miles away.

Drinking makes everything a little fuzzier, makes all the lights and sounds and staring a little more bearable. It also destroys her sense of time and makes her approximately a thousand percent more likely to say something stupid. But it's not all bad. She manages to crack a few jokes that have everyone laughing, and as the minutes march on and the drinks keep magically appearing beside her on the table, Max finds herself growing bolder.

“Looks like your hot streak is finally over,” someone says to Rachel as the round comes to end, slurring their words and leering over at her in premature triumph. 

Max watches in equal parts concern and entertainment as Rachel swings her latest cup around a bit dangerously. “Hey, don't count me out just yet,” she huffs, sneaking a sip between sentences. “Max, quick, give me a kiss for good luck.” 

And instead of questioning it, instead of stammering and getting all flustered, Max leans in to give her a kiss on the cheek. Which is bold by her standards. She's still a bit shy about kissing either of them, but especially Rachel. She's just so intimidatingly pretty, and nice, and way, way out of Max's league. Sometimes she still doesn't understand why Rachel was even willing to be in this little triangle relationship with her, let alone be the one to suggest it in the first place. But when a gift horse opens, you don't look it in the mouth. Or something like that. 

And why not try and be a little brave for once? That's what all the liquid courage was for, after all.

But Rachel, as Max has often heard, is someone who isn't afraid to ask for more, more, more. Even as the alcohol robs her of some of her usual eloquence. “I meant tongue luck,” she says, complete with an admittedly adorable and endearingly earnest pout. 

For a minute, the nervousness returns tenfold. A thousand worries and wonders swirl around her head and she can't help but think of all the eyes on them, all the pressure, all the ways she could mess this up. All the ways she could disappoint. If it's all just meant to be a joke and she's taking it way too seriously and getting herself worked up over nothing again. 

But then she's looking at Rachel and Rachel's looking at her and Max is drunker than she's ever been and suddenly none of it matters anymore. Suddenly, she doesn’t need to be sure of anything other than the fact that she’s the lucky one for getting to be so close to Rachel. Before she can talk herself out of it, Max takes the girl’s face in both hands and kisses her. Really kisses her, just barely sliding under the bar of full stop making out as she startles back when someone at the table cheers for them. 

“I-Is that more what you had in mind?” She mumbles upon pulling away, fixing Rachel with a bashful, doe-eyed stare. She knows people must be staring again, but it’s fine. She can just look at Rachel and pretend no one else exists instead, let go of all her nerves and replace them with those sunny hazel eyes and that silky, honey-blonde hair.

And that's so, so goddamn easy it isn't even funny. 

Rachel blinks back at her, momentarily dazed, before breaking out into an expression best described as the cat who got the cream. “Yeah,” she says, half breathless, moving to ruffle Max’s hair. “Good puppy.”

Max just keeps looking at her, for a moment or two, and then she feels her face going red again as it catches up to her, so she rushes to hide in Rachel’s shoulder. “That’s mean,” she whines, piteous and small, doing absolutely nothing to help her case. “That’s so mean.”

“Duly noted,” Rachel answers with a devious little hum, and Max can picture the way she’s grinning ear to ear at the new source of teasing material. 

She reaches out over Max to grab her latest hand, and Max knows solely by the way Rachel's fingers dance along her waist that it's another good one. She tries to keep her drunken grin hidden from the silent tension of the rest of the table. The quiet won't last long, of course. Even without looking Max can count down to the oncoming clamor; four, three, two…

The person who'd been taunting Rachel a few minutes ago drops their cards down and heaves a melodramatic sigh, and the guy next to them lets out a cry of, “You fucking jinxed it, dude,” while giving them a playful shove. 

“This is madness. This is actual madness.”

“So fucking unfair. Yo, can I get some of that tongue luck over here?”

Max winds up with a fresh lungful of jasmine as Rachel wraps a protective arm around her, threading her fingers through her hair. “Nope,” she answers in Max's stead. “No way. Didn't you hear me earlier? Mine.” 

Max is learning a lot of things about herself tonight. Like how it's kind of exciting when Rachel gets territorial over her, or that the more she hears it the less she questions being likened to a puppy. Or that she apparently isn't above letting Rachel hold the cup to her lips and coax her into another victory sip after finding her own cup empty. 

Oh, and according to one of the many strangers at the table she's, ‘so light of a lightweight she should win an award.’ Rachel agrees wholeheartedly and gives Max another pat on the head, which Max was too busy enjoying to really pay attention to what they were saying. 

All in all a very educational evening. 

“I think that’s it for you tonight,” Rachel says, finishing off the rest of her cup in one swig. Max almost shudders just watching her. “Chloe will probably have my head if I get you any more wasted.”

“She’s already gonna have your head.”

Max turns to face the source of the interruption, smiling like she's just laid eyes on the sun after a long dreary winter, but Rachel scoffs and remains oblivious. 

“Says who?” she huffs, defensive and gloating. Everyone stares at the space behind her.

“Says me,” answers Chloe, arms crossed, leaning ominously over Rachel and donning an I'm so gonna kill you sort of grin. Rachel tilts her head back to look up at her. Her tone comes out sickly sweet and simmering with a hint of trouble just beneath. “And what have you two been up to while I was running around half the night wondering where the fuck you were?” 

“Winning,” Max says, without a hint of irony. In fact she can’t help but to beam with pride as she proclaims, “I’m her good luck puppy.”

Chloe blinks down at her once, twice, and then moves to pull Max up into a hug. Max hums contentedly to herself. She really is the lucky one, having not just one but two girlfriends tossing her around like a hot potato. Oh yeah, this is the life.

“There, there,” Chloe assures, probably meant in jest but Max soaks it up as if it were genuine, leaning up into Chloe's touch as the girl pets her hair. “What's reckless ol’ Rachel got done to you, huh?” 

Rachel gasps in melodramatic mock offense. “What have I done? You wound me, good sir.”

“You got Max drunk.”

“Well, you lost her.” 

“Not on purpose,” Chloe snaps back. “Pretty big distinction there, Rach.” 

“Tomato, to-mah-to.” 

Max interrupts them with the utmost confidence, even as she finds her tongue heavy and uncooperative. “Ladies, ladies, please.” Both the words themselves and the hiccup that follows them are muffled in the fabric of Chloe’s jacket, but Max doesn't move. “There’s enough a’ me to go around.”

“Oh she's smashed. Jesus, Rach, you really are a bad influence.” Chloe's probably trying to tell her off, but the effect is greatly lessened by the fact that she's audibly covering up a laugh. “Max, Maxster, Maximilian, how are you doing? How much have you–”

“Rachel already used that one tonight,” Max notes, somehow coming in too late and too early at the same time.

“... had. That answers that question.” Chloe pulls back all of a sudden and Max scrambles not to tip over. “Wait, which one? First or second?”

“Second.”

“Ugh, what? C'mon, Rach, you know I've been saving that one.”

Rachel offers her best attempt at that snake-charmer’s smile, and Max finds herself thinking that she'd never be able win an argument against her. “Yeah, sorry, it just kinda slipped out. It is pretty good.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere now, Princess.” Chloe huffs back. “C'mon, up, both of you. I'm cuttin’ ya off.”

One of the guys lets out a cheer. “And my wallet is once again saved by the power of Rachel having a spousal dispute! Thanks, Price. You're a lifesaver.”

Rachel starts saying something about finally getting lucky only to have the competitive smirk wiped off her face by Chloe elbowing her in the side. Max dutifully gathers up the various little piles of Rachel's winnings and the two of them share a look as she hands them over. Though it must have been longer than just a glance, because the next thing Max knows Chloe is between them and has them both by the shirt collars like a pair of unruly kittens getting picked up by the scruff of the neck. 

“Well, I’d better get Romeo and Juliet over here back home before they start fucking on the table–”

“Chloe,” Max sputters, having just enough remaining wherewithal to get flustered over such a remark. 

Rachel does another one of those laughably dramatic gasps. “What kind of brute do you take me for?” She adds, far too nonchalantly, “I'd bring her to a room first. I'm not an animal.”

“Rachel,” Max squeaks, balking over at the girl with her face undoubtedly turning cherry red. Rachel offers only a drunkard’s smirk and a wink in return.

“ – And as you can see, I've got my hands full.” Chloe continues, barreling over them. 

She lets them go and gives them both a pat on the back, trying to get them to start heading out but only succeeding in sending them stumbling into each other. 

“Thanks for keepin’ an eye on ‘em for me,” she sighs. It's quickly replaced with a devilish smirk of her own as she reaches to give the guy a few rough pats on the shoulder. “Oh, and thanks for never learning your lesson when it comes to betting joints against Rachel. I'll be smoking good tonight, thanks to you.”

“Ugh, don't remind me.” He nods towards Rachel and Max, both of whom are not so subtly eyeing the setup for the next round. “Now get those two outta here before they find a way to win from halfway across the room.” 

Chloe turns back to them. “Alright guys, you heard him. Time to scram.” 

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Max says as they head for the door, giving Chloe a haphazard salute. 

“Ooh, are we pirates?” Rachel asks, before nodding sagely in approval. “Hell yeah. Yeehaw.”

Chloe fights to form a sentence around the burst of laughter that follows. “That's cowboys, you dumbass. How much have you had?”

“A lot,” Max supplies, trying not to trip over herself as they step into the cool night air outside. “Like, twenty cups.”

“It wasn't twenty,” Rachel huffs. “More like a sensible seven. And jeez, way to tattle on me, Caulfield.”

Max blinks over at her. “Oh, sorry. Can I try again?” Without waiting for an answer, she turns to Chloe. “Rachel had a nice sensible seven drinks and there's nothing to worry about.” Then, she turns back over to Rachel with a thumbs up and a lopsided, optimistic grin; whispering as if Chloe isn't right next to them and listening to every word. “Was that better?”

“Perfect,” Rachel just barely manages to answer through a bout of giggling. “Thanks, Maxie.”

The sharp flick of a lighter draws both of their attention, and they find Chloe in the process of lighting up one of the joints she'd claimed as ‘drunk-sitter tax.’ They both watch a little too intently as she takes that first drag and lets it plume out into the dark. “Don't mind me,” she coughs. “I'm just tryna get on your guys’ level. You've got like one brain cell between you right now, I gotta get in on this shit if I'm gonna be the one dealing with it.”

“Do you want some tongue luck?” Max asks, too earnest for her own good. “For dealing with us?”

Chloe stops walking. “Do I want what?”

Max turns on her heel and closes their distance, reaching up to take gentle grip of Chloe's jacket. “Here,” she says, getting up on her tiptoes. “Let me show you.”

Chloe makes this cute little noise of surprise, muffled by Max's mouth over hers, and it only serves to spur the girl on. It doesn't take long for Chloe to melt into it however, unconsciously leaning towards Max as she pulls back, keen on continuing. 

“Damn,” Chloe whispers, eyeing Max with a look of eagerness and wonder. “Drunk-Max has game.”

“I know, right?” Rachel agrees on the end of a smokey exhale, having nabbed the joint from Chloe's hand while she wasn't paying attention.

Max puffs up like an overexcited budgie trying to show off for its mate. “I can't help being so swaggy.”

For a minute, all is quiet.

“Aaaaand we're back to normal,” Chloe notes with a humorous sigh, while next to her Rachel breaks into a fit of contagious cackling.  

Max merely smiles to herself, watching their faces light up as they chase each other in circles over the joint, listening as they calm halfway down only for one of them to start up again and drag the other into a fresh round of barely contained laughter. She may be playing more on the wild side than usual tonight, but she still finds herself sure — super extra mega double absolutely positively one hundred percent sure – of one thing.

No amount of alcohol could compare to the rush and butterflies of making her girlfriends happy. 

[pastelwitchling]

Hello, I love your stories so much! Would you be willing to do one where Michael realizes that when Alex called the incident of 2x06 hell he actually meant it and that he really didn't enjoy it? Thank you!

Disclaimer: very anti-M*ria DeL*ca

tw: mentions of r*pe

***

Michael started to notice it about two weeks after coming back from their honeymoon.

Alex had come to meet him at the junkyard, and Michael had made a teasing remark about sneaking into the airstream for some of their old fun. He’d meant it as a joke, but Alex had flinched and taken a step back, as though afraid Michael would drag him inside. Michael had been about to ask if he was okay, but just then Dallas had come back and asked if they wanted to step inside for a cup of tea and some lunch. Michael had waited to see that same reaction, but Alex only smiled, relieved, and happily accepted.

Michael had thought he’d just imagined that scared look on his face, but then it came again the next night when he’d suggested getting a drink at the Wild Pony. Alex had nodded and agreed to go, everything seemed fine, until Michael had mentioned that Maria had these cocktail shrimps she wanted them to try.

Alex froze. “Er, Maria’s going to be there tonight?”

“Yeah?” Michael said while adjusting his collar, “So, do you want to grab dinner first, or –”

“Actually,” he cut him off, “I’ve been having a lot of stomach pain lately, so I – I think I should pass on the drinks tonight.”

Michael frowned, coming up to him and putting a hand on his belly, his other hand on his brow. “What, you’re sick?”

“No no,” he shook his head, covering Michael’s hand on his stomach with his own, “nothing like that, it must just be an acid thing. Y-You should go, have fun.”

Michael’s shoulders fell. “Well, I don’t want to go if you’re not going. Hey, why don’t we just stay in and I can make us some dinner instead? Something good for your stomach.”

He didn’t realize how nervous Alex’s smile looked until it softened. He’d been worried that Alex was uneasy about Michael being near Maria, but they’d talked about that, hadn’t they? Michael knew how much Alex hated it when he and Maria were alone or too close, and after everything that had happened, he wanted to ease his fears. But Alex had even told Michael to go by himself, so what else was going on?

Finally, that Sunday morning, Michael knew he had to say something. He and Alex liked to have breakfast together on Sundays since it was the one day they were both free from work, and they usually talked about anything and everything during that time. Even though it was their laziest morning, meant to establish some peace after a busy week, nothing was ever off-limits. Mostly because each of them knew they had the other to lean against and take comfort from if anything got too heavy.

That was why, when Michael asked, “What’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?” he did it with a bite of pancake in his mouth.

Alex smiled, amused, and wiped a dollop of maple syrup from the corner of his lips before bringing it up to his mouth to suck clean. “You already know,” he said vaguely. “What about you?”

Michael took a second to focus after that display, and cleared his throat. “Caulfield,” he said without hesitation. Then, to keep himself from thinking about it too much, he pointed his fork at Alex, eyes narrowed. “And that’s not fair, you have to actually tell me yours.”

“I did tell you mine,” he chuckled, though it sounded quieter to Michael’s ears. “I told you when it happened.”

Michael’s brows furrowed, thinking hard, even as Alex was clearly trying to move past the conversation.

“More whipped cream?” he offered.

“When was this?” Michael asked, undeterred. “You told me when it happened, was I there?”

“Yeah, you were there,” Alex said with a hint of his old smile, but the way his voice turned quieter and quieter was starting to get alarming. Michael sat up straighter, waiting expectantly. Alex sighed. “That night in the trailer? With . . . Maria? I told you it was a circle of hell.”

“Yeah, but,” Michael rolled his eyes, “seriously though.”

Alex raised a brow, the amusement in his eyes dimmed. “Seriously though.”

“No,” he smiled, even as his brows furrowed, “no, that . . . you were joking. You were . . . you were joking then, right? I mean, you wanted to be there –”

“Well, maybe I didn’t feel like I was allowed to not be there,” he said with an edge that Michael had not expected, but which had his heart plummeting into his stomach anyway.

“You . . . what?”

“Nothing,” he said, already grabbing plates and turning away. “Nothing, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” Michael grabbed him around his waist, hauling him back in. “Don’t apologize to me. There’s nothing off-limits, remember? I just . . .” his mind was racing and dread was coiling in his stomach and he felt sick. “Alex . . . did you stay that night . . . because you thought you had to?”

Alex looked away, exhaustion etched into his features. This had clearly been weighing on him for years. Years, Michael thought with horror.

“I’d just been stabbed,” he said. “She was my only ride there. You were already looking for any excuse to avoid me. I . . . I trusted her. I thought she would take me back, and then I thought you would just . . .” he shook his head, blushing, “I don’t know, protect me from it or something, but none of that happened and I was just stuck there. And I thought that if I said no anyway, that if I left and tried to walk back, you would never look at me again.” His smile was small, but there was nothing humorous or amused about it. “Hell was every time she touched me. Every time she touched you. Hell was waking up the next morning and trying to convince myself that my best friend hadn’t raped me.”

His smile falling, he stepped out of Michael’s hold and returned to the sink. Michael sat there, in shock, staring at Alex’s back as he continued to wash dishes like he hadn’t just told Michael that he’d felt sexually assaulted, that Michael had been part of it, that Michael had allowed it.

He remembered that night well, thought of it often, of all the things he would’ve done differently. But he always imagined taking Alex in his arms, confessing that he was all he wanted, that Maria should leave because the only person he wanted to see touching Alex was him. He remembered his jealousy, his desire to possess Alex, his need to make him feel as good as possible so that his eyes never wandered to anyone else, even after he left. He’d wanted to make him feel good enough that Alex wouldn’t mind waiting for him.

He hadn’t given a second to think how Alex had felt having no other option. Now that he thought through that night, half of it filled with regret that there had been anyone else with them, he couldn’t remember one instance when he’d offered to drive Alex home, to take him to the hospital, even to loan him his phone to call anyone else.

Alex had been trapped there, and Michael had helped attack him.

A tear rolled down his cheek, and when Alex turned back around to grab the empty cups, he stilled. Quickly setting the glass down, he came back to Michael and cupped his jaw. “Why are you crying?” he breathed. “Michael, it’s okay, it was years ago, I – I’ve forgiven her –”

“Did she know?” he demanded. “Did she know what I meant to you? How it felt when a woman touched you?”

Alex swallowed. “Guerin –”

“Did she know?”

His husband glanced down, and Michael got his answer. “We’d talked about it earlier that day. She said she used to have a crush on me –”

“So she forced herself on you, and used me to keep you there,” Michael breathed, his hands vibrating. Then he realized that it was the entire house that was vibrating.

“Michael,” Alex wrapped his arms around his shoulders to steady himself, looking around, “you’re making the ground shake, stop it, you’ll bring the whole house down!”

“I’m gonna bring her damn bar down,” Michael growled. “I’m gonna make her sorry she ever put a finger on you, and then I’m gonna spend the rest of my life begging for your forgiveness –”

“Stop stop stop,” Alex hugged him tight, slipping a hand into his hair and tugging hard enough on the roots to yank Michael out of his angry haze. “Please calm down. For me, Michael, for me.”

It was Alex’s plea, his voice, his hands on Michael, his heart hammering against Michael’s chest. Distantly, he felt the earth still beneath him, but he couldn’t keep himself from shaking. He hugged Alex’s waist slowly, staring through the window over his shoulder, unseeing.

“You’re never going to talk to her again,” he said in a hollow, low voice.

Alex hesitated. “Michael –”

“She talked about that night afterwards like it was funny,” he whispered. “She doesn’t even think she did anything wrong. You’re never talking to that bitch again.”

Alex said nothing a moment, but he seemed to sense that Michael wasn’t going to allow any other response because he just nodded.

“She’s never going to touch you,” he went on. “She’s never going to say your name, and if she even looks in your direction, I’ll destroy the Wild Pony and set it on fire.”

“Michael,” he gasped.

“She raped you, Alex, and she knew she was doing it!” he snapped, squeezing Alex to him. “You’re never going near her again. Tell me you’re never going near her again.”

Alex sighed against his shoulder. “Okay, my pretty cowboy. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please calm down.”

Michael didn’t calm down. He couldn’t, not until he was holding Alex in a bruising grip, undoubtedly making it impossible for him to breathe, but he couldn’t get himself to let go. The way Alex had looked at him that night, it came back to him now. Not just with longing and yearning, mirroring his own feelings, but something else that he was now recognizing as fear. He’d been waiting for Michael to save him.

Michael swore then he would never fail Alex again.

“I’m so sorry, Alex.”

Alex melted against him. He’d had years to get over this, but Michael could feel the way the last of his resentment about it dissipated the longer he held him. He wished more than anything that he’d really listened to Alex then, when he’d told Michael how he felt and expected the man he loved to care. So much could’ve been different.

“Thanks, Michael,” Alex murmured against his neck, “but you’re all mine now. I don’t care about anything else.”

***

This was very cathartic for me. Villains are villains, folks, whether they're played by women or not :)

Happy Malex Monday ❤️

[shawtyberry]

i feel like if holden caulfield was in the modern times he would listen to classical music, shit on kids who wear nike or any modern clothes or use stanley cups go to sephora, be labeled as a furry or an emo kid for not wearing the stuff that other kids wear, say that he was born in the wrong generation, not use any social media except reddit and twitter to argue with people, refuse to read any modern books, rolls his eyes when modern pop music is played at a store, would play a sport but still be labeled as unathletic because he prefers reading

(my friend made me post this btw 🙄🙄/nm)

[sophsicle]

I feel (fear?) that you are the only person I can come to with this question. I have recently become enamored with hockey. I followed KYD and also read quite a few books you recommended (Thrown Off the Ice, my beloved ❤️), and so I got hooked. I’m watching random games and loving it and learning so much. However…the problem is…I need a team. I have no connection to hockey whatsoever, and there isn’t even a team in my state (I’m sorry to tell you I’m *cough* north american all lowercase *cough*). I want a team to root for, but I don’t want to pick something ~obvious~ because I don’t want to feel so bandwagony, but also I want a fun team with players I can both root for and swoon over (I’m only human). Ugh, I’m just lost. Help. If you were starting from scratch with no loyalties, who would choose?!?

hmmmmm interesting

I feel like I might go for the Canucks? like, wholesome captain Quinn Hughes who loves his brothers, constantly looks confused or afraid (which is very relatable 2 me personally) and is also a stellar hockey player, plus they're like sort of the underdog that's rising up out of the ashes of years of hardship doing way better than anyone thought, and while i don't think they'll win it this year, I feel like they have the potential to be stanley cup contenders in the future so cheering for them will not break your soul,

I'll throw the habs (the montreal canadians) in there because i love them so i gotta, no one believes in them right now but they're also not doing as bad as people thought they would, and you have Cole Caulfield who is tiny and smiley and jumps on his teammates and his best friend Nick Suzuki who is two years older than him and yet acts like his dad (i can fully see nick putting a leash on cole just so he doesn't get lost when they go out), they are kind of in a rebuild but the dream is that over the next few years they will just be getting better and better, there's potential is what i'm trying to say!

im partial to the Avs too (colorado Avalanche) because Nate MacKinnon is just a lil boy who is trying so so hard always and is full of self doubt and anxiety (which, again, very relatable 2 me), and also Cale Makar who is like a mathlete who can fuck you up

these are the teams currently coming to mind!

[ghost-in-the-hella]

Some sweet marshfield fluff for Flufftober’s day 28 prompt: “picnic.”

[Image ID: Digital line drawing of Kate Marsh and Max Caulfield from Life is Strange season 1. They are sitting on a picnic blanket in a grassy field, clinking steaming tea cups together. A tea tray sits on the blanket between them. A small saucer sits by each figure. Two large plates also sit on the blanket, one with a few small sandwiches and one with chocolate chip cookies.]

[lostinthew0rld]

Amounis - 1930 Caulfield Cup winner

[sejwinters]

Have a little cup of maximus caulfield

[inkwelloftheheart]

You know, there's a funny thing about getting older. You start to appreciate the little things. Like the way sunlight catches on wrinkles just right, turning them into laugh lines. Or how a cup of tea can feel like a warm hug on a gloomy day.

—Flynn Caulfield, from "Cold Tea"

[rugbylovers]

"Glad I retired" - Nigel Owens slams decision to overturn red card In a scathing critique, ex-intern... #funny #memes #sports #live #tweets #win #twitter #tweet #bet #manchester #rugbymen #rugby union #irish rugby #super rugby

[johnbrownnn]

Australia’s MotoGP at Phillip Island has been brought forward a day after organisers feared Victoria’s inclement weather could impact the showpiece motorsport event.Instead of the race being held on Sunday it will take place one day earlier – on Caulfield Cup day.Melbourne has experienced ideal spring conditions this week, but the weather is expected to turn sour on Sunday. Rain and cold temperatures are forecast.Race organisers confirmed the switch in a statement on Friday.“This decision has been taken proactively in order to guarantee the best and safest possible show for all competitors and fans attending Phillip Island grand prix circuit this weekend,” the statement read.The main race will take place at 3.10pm on Saturday, with the sprint event to be held on Sunday, weather permitting.More to come Source link

[madeleinedrinkstea]

Machi Machi: Black Milk Tea with Mini Taro Balls

Tried at Machi Machi Caulfield with no ice and no sugar.

Machi Machi and Truedan are in a head-to-head battle for Melbourne's best black milk tea - at least in my eyes. The Machi Machi version comes in a hefty price vis-a-vis competitors, but is worth the splurge. The notes of the tea are complex but without bitterness, even when forgoing added sugar.

I've had the Black Milk Tea without any toppings, which is enjoyable as a stand-alone drink, but adding the mini taro balls brings out additional layers - I'd highly recommend it. The mini taro balls are springy and mostly smooth, although the occassional chunks of soft taro don't distract from the drink.

The only drawbacks here are the cost and the service. I get it - this Machi Machi is located strategically next to Monash Caulfield, and students need their caffeine rush. But a 15 minute+ wait for a cup of tea is definitely on the longer end. I've also had them mix up my order before.

Product: 5/5

Value: 3.5/5

Service: 3/5

[don-lichterman]

Olympia Valance and Thomas Bellchambers lead the celebrity arrivals at Caulfield Cup

Olympia Valance and Thomas Bellchambers lead the celebrity arrivals at Caulfield Cup

Olympia Valance is pretty in pink as she and new husband Thomas Bellchambers lead the celebrity arrivals at Caulfield Cup By Ali Daher For Daily Mail Australia Published: 00:13 EST, 27 November 2022 | Updated: 00:13 EST, 27 November 2022 Olympia Valance looked stunning as she attended the Caulfield Cup in Melbourne with her husband Thomas Bellchambers on Saturday. The former Neighbours star, 29,…