#and it has lived in my head rent free that someone said the fourth brother could be R’obbi

[revvethasmythh]

I've believed Veth had four brothers for the longest time and have been baffled to see other people shocked by four boys in the origins comic. I just rewatched a scene where she mentions them and she sure does say THREE older brothers. Idk if there's another scene that I got four from, or I singlehandedly manifested a fourth brother or what. The greater and more pressing mystery for me though is what the fuck her parents were like

You manifested the fourth brother 😭 And like re: the brothers I wouldn’t be baffled by it and I’d just assume maybe Sam DID mean to say she had four (though, yeah, in the ep she specifies three brothers) except that only SOME panels have four and some panels have three so I’m just sitting here like. Samuel. Give me a definitive answer, how many ARE there

ALSO YES WHAT WERE HER PARENTS LIKE. If I have one disappointment with the comic, it’s that we never got to see her parents at all, because WHAT must that dynamic be like? The only reference we get is that one of Veth’s brothers says, “Mom will be pissed if [Veth] comes home crying again,” which doesn’t really tell us much except that her mom (Ashlee, lest we ever forget that is canonically her mom’s name) is aware (? presumably?) that the boys are bullying her. It’s possible she was unaware of the severity of the bullying and Veth was either too afraid of her brothers to risk retribution from them by snitching or she DID tell her mom, who wrote it off as an overreaction because Veth was scared of everything anyway. And her father (*sigh* T’ravys) is never mentioned at all! But Veth clearly has no fond memories of her home life full stop, from her POV it was all shit, so I have to assume either her parents weren’t gems themselves or simply never appropriately intervened to help her. Perhaps both! I don’t know! Sam, please give us a full breakdown of her parents and their relationships with Veth because what the FUCK

[luciferbabie]

— that’s not me

summary: your angelic heritage has been revealed and the brothers are ecstatic. so why does it feel so ... wrong?

warning: angst (im not good wt angst forgive me), major chapter spoilers (a sister is forgetful so idk which specific chapter), swearing

note: the fact that the brothers were jumping and hugging our mc’s the moment they found out we were lilith’s descedant is still living rent free in my mind :’( + i don’t hate lilith nor do i want to paint her in a bad light, this part in the game just hurt me so yeah :’( 

the revelation of your distant connection with lilith has the rest of brothers in tears as they smothered you with sudden affection, more than they’ve shown you since your stay in the devildom.

seeing them so lively and genuinely happy for the first time in a while, hell, even lucifer seems more relaxed as he spoke with diavolo, warmed your heart.

but it just didn’t sit right with you, to be accepting their love as they all called you lilith instead of (y/n). but you cast it aside, merely chalking it up to the emotional roller coaster leading up to the revelation.

so you went about your day normally the morning after, basking in the lighter mood in the house of lamentation as you sat yourself down with the brothers in the dining area for breakfast. 

“good morning, boys.” your greeting was met with a chorus of ‘good mornings’ and a garbled response from beel who has his mouth full of his breakfast.

“hey, lilith we gotta scram, wanna avoid the demons i owe things y’know?” mammon spoke after a few minutes, already making his way to the front door. “hey, why aren’t ya - ?” his eyes widening in realization.

the idle chatter that filled the dining area dwindled into deafening silence, six pairs of eyes watching your reaction at their brother’s slip up. as much as it pained you, to be referred to as someone that you know you can never compare to, you just chuckled. “coming, coming.” and followed the second born, the entire walk to RAD spent with mammon talking about his latest scheme as you kept silent.

the rest of the day you endured their mistakes, masking your own discomfort and hurt with a smile as you brushed it off.

‘lilith’ asmo squealed when he whisked you away for a little lunch treat outside of campus

‘lilith’ beel and belphie had called you when they wanted to nap with you.

‘lilith’ levi called for you when he invited you to play the new game he just ordered.

your patience and tolerance was wearing thin the longer the day wore on, to the point where satan could probably sense your temper flaring the moment you took your seat for dinner.

the fourth born gave you a comforting smile from across the table, green eyes giving you a silent invitation to his room after dinner to let you vent out your frustrations and pain (and probably give you advice that will set lucifer off). returning satan’s smile, you felt your anger simmer down just a little bit, enjoying the chatter going on around you while you ate silently.

“lilith, simeon has mentioned -” lucifer’s cool voice broke through the chatter, but you didn’t get him the chance to finish as the sound of your chair scraping harshly against the floor silenced all seven demons. 

staring down the first born, you steely glare unwavering as you spoke. “say her fucking name one more time, i dare you.”

“(y/n), it was a mistake,” lucifer conceded, taken aback by your sudden behavior. 

“the only goddamned demon who’s been calling me by my actual name is satan!” you seethed. “did any of you notice that? or were you all just to elated that a part of lilith is in me?”

“(y/n), please we’re sorry,” beel said, head hung low and his mountain of food now untouched on his plate.

you would have felt bad once you saw just how guilty the six demons looked. “cut the bullshit, beel. i know you guys miss her, but really? to constantly call me lilith all fucking day? i thought i was supposed to be the stupid human exchange student.”

“(y/n),” satan spoke quietly from behind you, having made his way to you to diffuse the tension. “let’s go to my room, leave them be to bask in their mistakes, yes?”

casting another venomous glare toward the remaining demons, you made your way to satan’s room with him trailing behind you.

the once light and jovial atmosphere that was in the house of lamentation has dimmed the moment that your request to be transferred to purgatory hall was approved by diavolo. 

they had let lilith slip through their fingers, but to also lose you from their grasp was a far heavier blow to each of their hearts each time they see you smiling and laughing with satan and the rest of the exchange students.

taglist: @theeonlyroman​ @xxashshs​ @otome-otakuwu​

[love-hatred-stuff]

Title: ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵉᵃˡᵒᵘˢ ᵗʸᵖᵉ} Choi San [ateez]

genre: angst, fluff

warning(s): anger issues, possessiveness, San accidently hurts you(lighlty), a bit suggestive, a lot of swearing

word count: about 2.4k

Y/N's POV:

Me and my friends, Wooyoung, f/n and Seonghwa were in a luxurious club, dancing and having fun all night. While Wooyoung and I were sitting on the red leather couch, the other two were dancing wildly on the dance floor to the loud bass music. It gave me chills and I smiled in Wooyoung's face.

"We should meet some time alone again!" He almost screamed so I could even understand him due the noise around us.

"I'm not sure if San will allow me, but sure! It was a whole torture to persuad him to just let me out with you guys."

I slightly rolled my eyes at the memories of the conversation I had with my boyfriend San about this. It really was so exhausting to talk about something like that with him. He was the jealous, overprotective type and his possessiveness were slowly getting on my nerves.

"I'll have to talk to him." Wooyoung yelled again and smiled a little awkwardly. He was surely very good looking and my guy best friend but sometimes he overdid his confidence. I liked him anyways.

"But then he'll beat you up, you know that?"

I stopped counting how many guys he had defaced because they looked wrong at me or complained about his behavior and how he treats me. It was pointless to even try to stop his anger issues when it's about me.

We started dating almost a year ago and he still had these habits.

"That could possibly happen, good, that I'm a man that has muscles and goes to the gym also." He winked at me while smiling.

He always was the flirty type but I knew he wouldn't dare to do anything I don't want. And I also knew that he loves me but just as a best friend. He's more like a brother than to me a boy I would date.

"Good luck then, Woo. You know San is experienced when it's about beating someone up." I reminded him in a joking way but we knew that I was damn right with this point.

"We will see if I can do anything." He ended this topic.

"Does San know, you're with us at a nightclub?" He mentioned his name again.

"Better, he'll fucking never finds out." I smiled a bit intimidated at the thought of if he'd find out.

"Okay, let's enjoy the rest of your life then. Come and dance." He stood up again and pulled me with him on the dance floor.

I just laughed and did what he said. Therefore I went out with my friends, to have a bit fun again. Not that I wasn't happy in my relationship with San, but he always wanted me for himself and I needed for at least a few hours a break after a long time of avoiding boys all day long.

Now everyone around me was absolutely living for the moment and I missed this feeling so much.

San was also out, but doing business instead of having fun.

After hours passed and it was getting later & later, we were getting more tired each second so we decided to end this beautiful night. F/n and Seonghwa drove home in one taxi as me and Wooyoung did the same.

They weren't actually dating, but I knew f/n had feelings for my good friend Hwa since High School.

The ride didn't take long since we had stayed in town and soon arrived at my apartment. I hugged Wooyoung goodbye and stumbled into the apartment's elevator to reach the right floor faster.

I pressed the button for the fourth floor and after a few seconds and a few more steps, I was able to open my apartment door.

I sighed, so relieved that I could take a quick shower and enjoy my lovely bed. To be honest, I never knew if San was sleeping over or not. I was just guessing in this moment, that he would stay at his apartment tonight and walked into my bathroom, taking off my skater dress.

Before I stepped in the shower I looked in the mirror and noticed that my hair was kind of a mess like my eyeliner was, through all the dancing and stuff. After I separated myself from my underwear I could finally enjoy the warm water hitting my small but feminine body.

I was too exhausted to take a long shower and just washed my body and hair quickly, got dressed in cute panties and one of San's white shirts which went up to the middle of my thighs, covering my breasts that were braless.

I wished just in this moment that he would be here, seeing me like this. He loved me in only wearing his tees and my panties. He would fall all over me right now.

I smiled brightly at my imaginations of my boyfriend living rent free in my head. I was really proud to have him. He was pretty popular and so damn handsome that every girl that hadn't a boyfriend, had from at least a little one to a huge crush on him.

But he picked me, the bookworm, which didn't mean I was automatically good in school. I was okay but nothing more.

My ego was just too big to let anyone of the teachers tell me what to do. Everyone said I was so pretty, I could be a model if I were just a little taller but I also had my failures and insecurities. And that was totally fine because I am just a human too. San taught me how to accept and love myself and I was so thankful for it.

When I wanted to crawl into my comfortable bed, I suddenly noticed a tall figure standing in my bedroom.

"My god San! You wanna kill me here?!" I breathed out heavily as my heart was already racing.

"Where the fuck were you so long?" He asked now with a deep but angered voice. And I didn't miss the anger building up in his eyes.

"Out, you know." I just said and laid on my bed, ready to sleep.

"I know. But you didn't told me you were gonna be out till after midnight!"

My eyes scanned his face, waiting for his next move.

"I told you to not be out late and amuse yourself with boys."

I let out a "Pff" sound and closed my eyes, not wanting to believe what he just said to me.

"Y/N!"

"Yes! I know waht you told me but I wanted to have fun once, without you ruining my night okay?! And I would never "amuse myself" with other boys but you in that way! Now shut up and turn the light off. I'm tired of your shit!" My words came out more harshly than I wanted them to be but I wasn't gonna take it back.

So I just closed my eyes again and covered myself up. But nothing moved or sounded like he would do anything.

"What do you mean by that?" I heard his weak voice speak quietly.

Oh god no. I feared this tone so much.

He was usually more a tough guy who didn't show his emotions much to anyone but me. And most of the time he acted all strong around me too, but sometimes his heart just couldn't handle me if I prevailed with a loud voice and harsh words.

And his wound point was when I would mention anything about a break up, even in the slightest.

"Go to sleep, San." I told him in a rather cold tone.

I wanted to avoid a conversation about this and just fucking rest. I really wasn’t in the mood to stand this right now.

"Not until you tell me." He stayed stubborn.

I sighed and sat up straight so I could look at him again.

"Nothing. I'm tired. Could you?" I was tapping on the empty bedside where he was supposed to sleep. I saw how his blue eyes slowly got teary. Fuck.

"Did you mean you're tired of me?" He asked carefully, trying to hold back his tears.

"Noo... I meant that I don't want to be suppressed by you anymore. You always tell me to stay away from boys and I do. Nothing to worry about, right? So the problem is solved. Now sleep San, please." I begged and patted on the mattress again.

"I just don't want anyone to have you like I do. I thought you wanted to be mine also." He looked down.

"I do all of this because I love you so much that I would die for you. I'll do anything but please tell me you're not going to leave me." He pleaded and a tear escaped his eye.

It was rare that he cried but when he did he was really scared. He was scared that I would leave him.

"No I'm not going to, San..."

"You never call me just San." He looked up again with sad eyes, digging into my aching heart.

I thought I dreamed when I heard him sob so softly that my heart began to ache.

"I'm sorry baby, but I am still a bit mad. But I will never leave you, okay?"

He just hummed and layed down on the bed. I covered him with the blanket and stroked through his soft hair before I leaned back again.

I breathed out at his please and kissed him with a bit more pressure.

"Don't cry. Everything's alright baby." I said in a calming voice and turned the last lamp off.

"I'm sorry Y/N, don't be mad at me, you know I can't stand this." He pleased again, gripping my small waist with his hand and pushing me against his hard body.

"Give me my goodnight kiss." He said and looked at me, perking his lips.

I decided to give him one as a treat and turned around to peck him on his lips.

"I don't like short pecks, you know that Y/N." He frowned immediately.

I sighed out and kissed him again, with a bit more pressure.

"It's fine, for now." He was finally satisfied.

And finally we could fall asleep in each other's embraces and get the rest we deserved.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

San's POV

I woke up next to my princess and instantly had to smile.

She was my everything, I was so lucky to have her in my arms.

When my hands slowly caressed her waist up and down, I noticed that she only was wearing her light pink, favorite panties and a white shirt of mine that had slipped up to her upper buddy.

Her ass pressed against my member and I felt how I hardened at this feeling.

Always when we woke up like this I got a morning boner.

Luckily she helped me most times.

But what about today? We kind of fought yesterday, before we got to bed.

I would like to deny it but I fucking cried because of her words.

It was rare but sometimes when she was mad at me, she said words she didn't really mean and I can't stand it if she mentions something that would lead us to break up eventually.

I wanted to keep her forever. I wanted to marry her one day and spend the rest of my life with her.

I would do absolutely everything to prevent that we had to part. That's why I was pretty possessive and "overprotective" over her.

But it didn't matter to me as long as she didn't have much to do with other boys.

Though she actually hated that. She wanted her freedom.

Although it was important to me that she was happy, I wouldn't stop watching with who she was hanging out with.

She let out a sweet groan at my touch and took my hand on her now naked stomach, signalling me that she was wide awake now.

"You're not mad anymore, are you?" I asked with a husky morning voice.

"I can feel your boner, San." She just ignored my question.

"You are so damn hot babe.. How am I supposed to not have one when your cute ass is pressed against it?"

She giggled cutely. Then she turned around and looked at me with her stunning eyes.

"Just take a shower with me, yeah?" She smiled seductively.

"Everything for you baby." I kissed her cheek.

We stood up together and walked to her bathroom.

•••

"San, why were you so rough?" She asked in a quiet voice as she walked out of her room into the kitchen where I was standing.

"I'm sorry." I replied.

"I'm sorry? That's all?" Now she sounded really sad and looked at me with watery eyes and pouty lips.

But I had my reasons and it wondered me why she didn't know why already.

"Oh, you fucking know. You're mine and I had to show you that. As you always forget about it." I spoke in a monotonous way.

"I like it when you go rough sometimes but not when you start hurting me. You bruised my sides, San. What is wrong with you!?" She whined, now even more upset.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you baby." I stepped towards he and tapped her shoulder in apology.

"It's okay. I will meet up with Wooyoung today." She told me as if it was normal for her to meet up with him.

As if she didn't know that I would freak out at this.

"What the fuck, Y/N!? You will not." I tried to suppress an aggressive tone.

"I'm kidding, San. God, you're so controlling." She rolled her eyes back.

My eyes widened again at her statement.

"You're kidding?" I wanted to make sure, a bit to blended from all this stuff going on to even think straight and be able to follow her words properly.

"Yeah, it was supposed to be my revenge, idiot." She snapped again and walked away.

"Don't call me that!" I told her.

She was never this disrespectful. What the heck was going on?

"Y/N? What is it, huh?" I tried to sound soft but obviously failed.

She breathed out heavily, telling me how annoyed she was by now.

"Either you go and leave me alone or..." She bursted out.

My heart stopped for a moment just to start racing rapidly a second later as I realised what she implied to say.

"Or what?" My voice shivered already.

"Or we take a break." And my heartbeat stopped a second time.

"We just had sex and you're telling me, you wanna take a break?" I asked shocked.

I wished this was just a stupid nightmare of mine, because for me it really was at that point.

"Do you love me, San?" She suddenly wanted to know.

"What? Of course I do! I told you last night."

I was so confused and overwhelmed with this situation, I thought I forgot how to breathe properly.

"Why do you try to control me all the time if you really do?"

"That's the thing Y/N. I do that because I love you too much to let some boy near you." I tried to explain meaningfully.

But she was still quietly standing in front of me.

"I'll let you go with him for two hours, okay?" I thought the best thing to do is to give her what she wanted.

I almost missed that tears rolled down my cheeks. I was so damn emotional when it was about her.

"Please say something, love." I begged. Silence was never a good sign.

"I love you too. But you have to promise to let me go out more often. I don't care if it's with you or with my friends but I want some free time." She finally explained.

In the next second she was in my arms and hugged me tightly.

"I promise, Y/N. I love you."

The picture & gif are not mine, credits to the owners

[yukiobeyme]

Your tattoo shop AU sounds cute! I’d love to hear more about it!!

I’m so sorry for how long this is, but thank you to you and @s8ncake , @asmos-pet , @aguacats , @dj-night-owl , @avellanna-world for enabling me to write and share this. I am putting it under the cut because it is extremely long, like way too long. I am so sorry.

So AciesGecko on Twitter Piercing Diavolo has been living in my mind rent-free and like Tattoo Shop! AU. Their @ here is the same but they suffered from me tagging them once but here is their tweet that inspired it ( x) (it can also be found on Tumblr here: x)

This was originally found on my Twitter but I have made edits and added more details to indulge everyone because I really like this idea. I don’t have any relationships in it, but it could easily have DiaLuci, Solomon/Asmodeus, and Barbatos/Simeon. I have this currently have Lucifer being Satan’s biological father and Lucifer is a single parent. But anyway now into the actual meat and enjoyment of this Tattoo Shop! AU

Welcome to Royal Art and Design (RAD) owned by Diavolo Rey. (It’s my default last name for Diavolo, in my modern DiaLuci fic his name is Diago and someone suggested Rey because it meant King in Spanish and so it’s just stuck.) Diavolo was supposed to take over his father’s company but fell in love with tattooing instead.

This caused major tension and Diavolo’s dad just thinks Diavolo is being rebellious and will one day realize his mistake and crawl back to his Dad but as Diavolo is in his late twenties to early thirties, Diavolo doesn’t regret the tattoo shop. Diavolo is covered with piercings and tattoos that he shows off constantly. Something that also upsets his father because it isn’t professional to have all those tattoos and piercings.

The shop’s main receptionist is Barbatos, a childhood friend of Diavolo. Barbatos’ family lived on the Rey’s property and were their butlers. Barbatos is about 10 years older than Diavolo but they are close friends and Barbatos would follow Diavolo anywhere. Barbatos has far fewer tattoos and piercings than Diavolo. Most of his tattoos are covered except for the ones on his hands.

Then you have the six “brothers”. They aren’t by blood but by choice. They all grew up in (and out of) the foster system. 

The oldest is Lucifer, a renowned tattoo artist (honestly no one knows how Diavolo convinced Lucifer to work with him) Lucifer has a unique tattoo style, something that is sought after. Diavolo loved and adored Lucifer’s style and could recognize his work from a mile away. Diavolo begged and pleaded with Lucifer to work at his shop and was glad they came up with the agreement.

I haven’t decided yet but Lucifer is either covered in tattoos, that he always has covered. Long sleeve button-ups and long pants are a part of Lucifer’s everyday wear. Something Diavolo has told him isn’t necessary. OR Lucifer surprisingly has no tattoos but either way has his ears gauged and an eyebrow piercing and is constantly covered up. (I am leaning towards him being covered in tattoos)

Diavolo constantly compliments Lucifer’s skin and say how it would be a dream to tattoo because he is so pale. Any color would pop and look good and honestly, Diavolo is waiting and hoping for the day, Lucifer lets him tattoo Lucifer.  (Spoiler Lucifer will probably let Diavolo tattoo a huge back piece)

Soon after getting out of foster care, Lucifer got a girl pregnant. He didn’t know until he was contacted. Saying how the mother had given up her rights to the child and he could either sign his rights way or take the child. Not wanting his kid in foster care, Lucifer adopted Satan.

So while Lucifer is in his late thirties Satan just turned 18 and is a walking contradiction. He already filled up one of his arms with tattoos and has plenty of piercings, he loves nothing more than to curl up and read books (he wears big chunky black glasses). Lucifer tried his best to be supportive of Satan wanting to get tattoos but also had to play the bad cop and make sure Satan understood how permanent they were and if he really wanted them.

Satan more or less just hangs out at the shop all the time, that he might as well work there too. He interested in Art and is hoping to attend college for it. Diavolo said if Satan wants to intern at RAD and be a tattoo artist all he had to do is say the word and Diavolo is willing to make it happen.

The second oldest of the “brothers” is Mammon. Mammon was more or less a pity case went it comes to getting his job at RAD. He got in and out of trouble and found himself in jail for a bit, gambling and tax fraud isn’t a good mix. During his time Mammon found himself getting prison tattoos and even taught himself how to tattoo. Something that honestly was encouraged because if it allowed him to have a skill he could use once he was out then it was a skill worth him learning.

Once Mammon was released, he found he still had a gambling problem. Lucifer allowed him to crash on his couch and Diavolo put him through the wringer but told Mammon if he could prove himself he earned himself a spot at RAD and Mammon passed with flying colors.

Mammon’s tattoos are old school and traditional but have a uniqueness to them because of where he learned his skill set. It’s also evident in how Mammon moves around the piece and even how he holds his equipment. Mammon isn’t a fan of piercings, “they hurt too much!” “You have tattoos on YOUR FACE!” He does have his tongue and septum pierced though. 

Third is Leviathan, an otaku but has beautiful Japanese-style tattoos. Even went abroad to Japan to learn about tattooing. In between appointments you can find him either watching anime or playing some game on his phone. Levi had his tongue pierced for a bit but went ahead and committed to having his tongue split. Definitely talked Diavolo into having a fish tank and Levi own reptiles (Is this important to the story? Not really but good to know)

The fourth is Asmodeus. He is the head piercer at RAD and it shows. Asmodeus only has tattoos on his fingers and they are small dots, very minimalist. He also helps Barbatos with receptionist duties. Loves wearing crop tops to show off his belly ring. And flirts with everyone, mainly because it hard to be nervous when you have such a gorgeous person flirting with you.

Finally, the last two “brothers” are the only ones that are related. The twins, Beelzebub and Belphegor. Their style of tattoos are the complete opposite. While Beelzebub focuses on lots of colors, Belphegor works in black and white with maybe one or two colors. Beelzebub is really fit and has full sleeves on both arms and one leg. Belphegor has both hands tattooed and one-half sleeve. He has a hard time finding and committing to a tattoo design, so he waits until it’s perfect. He also is one of the only people Diavolo knows that can fall asleep while being tattooed, it’s quite impressive.

Then you have the current interns Solomon and Simeon (and MC if you want to include them) The application process was intense and it means something to be an intern at RAD because you are honestly learning from the best and learning multiple different styles and perspectives.

Solomon is learning how to pierce too if it’s because of the attraction to the head piercer well no one needs to know about that. While Simeon is strictly doing tattoos and focuses on traditional styles, nothing too modern and not too many colors/ complex colors; “You can’t use the color straight from the tube Simeon, that’s just not right!”

Simeon is the legal guardian to his godson Luke, who is constantly found at the shop too. Energetic and loves to draw then show it off to everyone. Simeon is a little old to be an intern but Diavolo took the chance with him. Something Lucifer disagrees with.

“Wasn’t he apart of your family at one point?” Diavolo asked at some point

“Yes, but he was adopted. We are brothers no more”. was Lucifer’s only response, and didn’t talk any further on the topic.

That’s all I have at this point, but it’s a lot and I just need it in my life. Someone help me do punk edits of the boys. Like maybe I’ll write a small piece on it eventually, but this could easily turn into a huge work that I don’t currently have the time to plan or write. Because tbh I would make DiaLuci a thing for sure, but add Simbarb and Solodeus just for fun or have them as a side relationship.

[rvnclwrites]

Christmas 1991 (Charlie x Female MC)

“Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie.” Turns out MC was invited too!

Word count: ~1500

Note: This is my first HPHM fic. I just couldn’t get the idea out of my mind, so I had to write it. Feel free to message me with other HPHM fic requests. Feedback is appreciated!

���Here you go, Miss,” the cab driver says as he stops the car in front of one of several quaint white cottages along the street. “Merry Christmas!”

You fumble around in your bag for some money, surprised to feel so nervous at your arrival. “Thanks, you too!” you say, handing him the bills before sliding out of the back seat with your luggage. The evening December chill rushes to your face, and you wrap your (house name) scarf around you one more time in an attempt to get warmer. But even in the bitter cold, all you can do is smile as you see the string of lights adorning the roof and the glimpse of the lit Christmas tree through the front window. This is the first time this month you are actually feeling the holiday spirit.

Knocking on the door, your heart fills as soon as it opens and you see Mrs. Weasley standing in the doorway.

“(Y/N)! Come in, come in,” she says, smiling brightly as she ushers you into the warm house and wraps you into a hug. “Happy Christmas, dear. We’re so glad you could make it.”

“Thanks so much for having me,” you say, accepting her motherly embrace. Even though you have only spoken to Mrs. Weasley a handful of times at Platform 9¾, she is still possibly the sweetest woman you have ever met.

“Of course, dear. You’re practically family with the way Charlie and Bill talk about you.” She pats your shoulder, and you can’t help but feel nervous again at the mention of Charlie’s name. You haven't seen Charlie, or any of your friends for that matter, for nearly six months. Traveling the world as a Curse-Breaker after finishing your final year at Hogwarts has kept you annoyingly busy, and this is the first week you've had off since you started.

“Hey stranger,” a familiar voice says to your right, and your nerves wash away as soon as you turn your head. Standing in the doorway that leads to the kitchen is no other than Charlie Weasley. You can’t stop the swarm of butterflies that flutter in your stomach at the sight of him- the familiar speckled face, red sweater, and hair pulled into a low ponytail.

“Charlie!” Unable to contain your excitement, you drop your bag and run towards him, colliding into him with a bear hug. You’re surprised at how dense he feels now as he squeezes you back with arms that you don’t remember being quite so thick- being a dragonologist must be even more physically demanding than you’d expect. You breathe in the familiar honeysuckle and grass smell on his sweater and silently wish he’d never stop hugging you.

“I missed you too,” he breathes into your ear with a chuckle, sending a chill down your spine. You make the mistake of lifting your head up to look at him, and his face is so close to yours, all you want is for there to be mistletoe hanging above you and someone to accuse you of standing under it. You’ve tried so hard to ignore these feelings which have been around since your fourth year of Hogwarts. You hoped the silly crush you developed on him after Bill introduced you two would pass quickly, but it just got worse the more time you spent with him. After you finally accepted how you felt by your seventh year, he was suddenly following his dreams here to Romania and you were coerced into traveling the world as a Curse-Breaker. The worst part is you didn't even have the balls to ask if he felt the same way before you left.

“Hey, I know you guys were in the same year and all, but we were friends first,” Bill teases from the kitchen, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Hey!” You reluctantly let go of Charlie and move to give Bill a quick hug, his tall, slender frame a much different feel from Charlie’s broad chest.

“I believe this is for you,” Charlie says, walking up beside you and nodding toward the present on the kitchen counter. Glancing at the tag, you see it’s from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

“No way,” you whisper, hopeful at what you think it might be as you tear through the wrapping paper. Sure enough, you pull out a knitted (house color) sweater with a bold (your initial) in the middle.

“Oh my God!” you say with a squeal, holding up your very own Weasley sweater in admiration before turning to Mrs. Weasley. “Thank you so, so much!”

“I told you she would freak out,” Charlie says with a laugh.

“Well it’s about time someone appreciates those sweaters,” Mrs. Weasley says, smacking Charlie on the shoulder before turning back to you with a smile. “You’re very welcome, dear.”

After Charlie shows you the guest room and you change into your new sweater, Mrs. Weasley calls everyone to dinner. The table is so full of food it reminds you of the Christmas feast at Hogwarts.

“You must be Ginny,” you say, smiling at the red headed girl who takes a seat next to Charlie. You have seen her before at Platforms 9¾ with Mrs. Weasley, but have never gotten the chance to speak to her. “I’m (Y/N).”

“You’re the cool Curse-Breaker Charlie’s always talking about!” she says, and you glance across the table at Charlie with a raised eyebrow.

Bill cackles with laughter, and everyone begins passing food around the table. “She has always preferred the way Charlie tells bedtime stories,” Bill says, scooping a pile of peas onto his plate before passing the bowl to you. “So she’s heard most of our crazy adventures at Hogwarts.”

“Fred and George are funnier, but Charlie always adds dragons,” she says excitedly, and you can’t help but melt inside at the thought of Charlie telling his little sister dramatic versions of your adventures. “Did you really defeat R and save your brother from the vaults?”

You smile proudly. “Yep. I couldn’t have done it without your brothers though. They’re pretty awesome.”

“That’s so cool! Almost as cool as Ron becoming friends with Harry Potter.”

“What?” you and Charlie exclaim simultaneously, both clearly surprised.

The rest of dinner is spent with Mrs. Weasley filling you both in about Harry Potter, as well as Ron’s first year at Hogwarts. After dessert, you begin helping the family clear the dinner table, and Mr. Weasley asks, “So how’s the Curse-Breaking going, (Y/N)?”

Despite knowing it was bound to come up, you dreaded hearing this question. You realized a few months ago that it was the pressure after the events at Hogwarts that led you to becoming a Curse-Breaker, not your love for it. Oh well, you were going to have to tell them about it sooner or later. “I think I'm going to try something different,” you admit and flush as you feel all the eyes in the room focus on you. “The traveling is just getting exhausting since I can rarely Apparate or use the Floo Network. I don’t understand how muggles love traveling on boats and planes so much, it takes forever.”

“That’s what I’ve always said!” Mr. Weasley says. “I’ve actually started tinkering with a muggle car trying to get it to fly, and I think-”

“Arthur,” Mrs. Weasley cuts in with a pointed look as she sets the dinner plates into the sink.

“Sorry, Molly,” he apologizes quickly, and redirects his attention to you. “What are you looking to do next? I would be happy to put in a good word at the Ministry for you if you’re interested.”

“Or you could apply to Gringotts,” Bill offers, leaning against the kitchen cabinets. “I rarely have to travel, and Egypt isn't so bad.”

“Actually, I really miss working with magical creatures so I applied to the Dragon Sanctuary.” You instantly feel Charlie’s eyes on you, and you pull a folded piece of paper from your jean pocket, extending it to him. “All of those times you quizzed me about dragons seems to have paid off. I just got their reply this morning, but I wanted to make sure you're cool with it before I accept.” You hold in a breath, nervous to see Charlie’s reaction as he reads the letter.

A wave of relief washes over you as the biggest grin you have ever seen spreads across his face. “Are you being serious?” he asks. “You want to work at the sanctuary with me?”

“As long as you’re okay with it,” you say, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Are you kidding!” Before you can register him moving, Charlie sweeps you into a hug, and your heart tightens uncomfortably again as his arms wrap around you.

“Isn’t this just wonderful!” Mrs. Weasley says with a squeal.

“Does that mean you guys are going to live together?” Ginny asks curiously.

Your face immediately goes scarlet, and you refuse to look at Charlie. Before you could fluster a response, Mrs. Weasley says, “That wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Rent here would be even more affordable with a roommate. Think of all the extra money you would both save.”

“Not to mention how close this place is to the sanctuary,” Mr. Weasley adds.

You know your face must look ridiculous at the moment because your mouth is hanging open and you can feel the hot flush staining your cheeks. You just want someone to shake you like an Etch A Sketch and tell you they're just joking so you can laugh it off. But they don't sound like they're joking. Bloody hell, are both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley actually encouraging you to live with their son? The thought of it makes your head begin to spin, and it only gets worse when Charlie speaks.

“I mean, I’m totally cool with it if you are.” You couldn’t help but notice his cheeks looked a little red too.

You feel a lump in your throat, and catch Bill wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at you from behind Charlie. While you two have never discussed your crush on his younger brother, you have always had a feeling he knows it.

“You totally should,” Ginny encourages. “I’d love for both of you to tell me dragon stories when I get to visit!”

Well how can you argue with all of that? “Okay, sure,” you manage, and suddenly Mrs. Weasley is hugging you again. When the family resumes talking and Charlie starts pestering his mom to stop cleaning his kitchen, Bill shoots you a look and you glare at him. “Don’t say a word,” you mutter under your breath, and he chuckles quietly.

“Whatever you say,” he teases before jabbing you gently with his elbow and adding, “sis.”

A few more hours pass, and while the rest of the family is occupied in the living room, Charlie pulls you aside before you can join them.

“Can we talk for a minute?” he asks quietly.

“Sure,” you say, slightly confused, and before you know it, he's pulling you upstairs and leading you into his bedroom. The tan walls are covered with posters of the different dragons he has quizzed you about, and there’s a queen size bed in the middle of the room with a Gryffindor red comforter on top. A chill runs through you as you spot a moving picture of the two of you resting on top of his nightstand. Oh man, that’s adorable.

As he turns around to face you, you attempt to break the ice, suddenly feeling anxious. “What’s up, roomie?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I'm so sorry about all of that. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” He rubs the back of his neck, and you notice his ponytail is an inch or two longer now. “I just want to make sure you don't feel pressured to move in if it would make you uncomfortable. My family is so embarrassing.”

You let out a laugh. “No they’re not, they’re the best,” you reassure him. Even if it was slightly embarrassing, you couldn’t help but love his family. “I mean it may have caught me off guard, but I think it would be fun.” The way Charlie looks up at you when you say these words makes you add, “As long as you’re cool with it. Don’t feel obligated to offer up your place, I completely understand if you prefer living alone.”

“Are you kidding? I can't think of anything better than living with you. I've missed you like crazy.” You're surprised your heart hasn't jumped out of your chest by this point, but before you can respond, Charlie continues, “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Of course,” you say, trying to ignore how close he’s standing to you.

“Why did you choose the sanctuary?”

You feel the heat rise to your face again. Because you're friends? Because you love dragons as much as he does? Okay, maybe because you can't stop thinking about him and have missed him more than anyone else your life. Bloody hell, do not say that. Or... should you? 

“What do you mean?” you decide to say, gripping the sleeves of your new sweater for support. This would be a hell of a lot easier if you knew how he felt. His proximity and the way he’s looking at you are making things even more confusing.

“You could have any job you want, and there are tons of magizoologist jobs out there. Why here?”

His brown eyes are so intimidating as they stare back at you, waiting for you to answer, and your mouth is dry again. Without thinking about what you are doing or the potential consequences, you push yourself forward and press your lips to his. The second your mouth is on his, every cognizant thought in your brain dissipates like cotton candy on your tongue. He tastes sweet, and you can feel the rapid pulse in his neck as your hand rests above it, pulling him as close to you as possible. His lips are so soft and addictive as they move slowly against yours, it takes every fiber of your being to pull back.

“I'm so sorry,” you breathe, and all you can think about is how close his damn face is still as he just stares back at you like a deer in headlights. “We can pretend that never happened if you want.” You drop your gaze so his would stop piercing through you, and you're worried your palms are sweaty.

“Are you kidding me?” he says, his breath warm against your lips. “I've wanted to do that for the last four years.” And before you can think straight, he closes the small space between you two and is kissing you again, sending your heart, head, and stomach into a whirlwind of butterflies and goosebumps. After standing there for God knows how long, you pull apart.

“Was is worth the wait?” you ask, your hand now resting on his chest which seems to be beating as fast as yours.

“Absolutely,” he says before grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

This may very well be the best Christmas in history.

[lovedroughtff]

Chapter 2 ~ Stuck On Stupid

It's confusing How you do it It's like you take my heart and glue it to your soul Yeah baby And I'd do anything for you Ooh you know that much it's true Girl I'm so in love I'm stupid They say everybody plays the fool sometimes And if I've got to I don't mind I'll be the best damn fool for you No lie And girl I lose it every time 

 Cash

It’s been a few days since I last saw or talked to my brother, I know he’s still pissed at me from calling out Dahlia. But I couldn’t help it. Dahlia and Ashton together, is a horrible mix and I’m not picking up the pieces of their toxic relationship for the fourth time in a row.

I was sipping on my drink, once I saw my best friend Kristen. I smiled and got up to greet her, it’s been a while since I seen her and I miss her.

“Hi Bestie!” She laughed when I engulfed her in a hug.

“I missed you so much.”

“I can see that.” She chuckled again.  

We released each other and started talking,  

“So, what’s been going on Autumn?” Kris asked, I rolled my eyes, knowing she called me Autumn to irritate me. 

“Stop it,” but I shrugged, “Nothing really, Daddy is fine and I don’t know about Ashton, because we got into a fight.”

The waitress delivered Kris a water and took our orders, once she was done she walked away. Kris stirred her straw in the water, looking at me saying “So, what did you do?”

I again, rolled my eyes and told her about catching Dahlia and Ashton in bed together and what I said.

“Autumn Cashmere Scott, you know you’re dead ass wrong for that.” She scolded.

“It’s about time he came with the facts, she’s a manipulative bitch and I can’t stand her playing with my  brother’s feelings. He needs someone new or he’s gonna be stuck on heartbreak mode forever.” I was getting sad, because all I wanted was to protect my brother, and I couldn’t do shit, because he never listened to me.

Kris just nodded and I knew that she understood more than anyone.

“Speaking of siblings, how are yours?” I asked,

“The Harris/Jimmenez clan or the Hayes clan?” She giggled

“Harris/ Jimmenez, are the only ones I like being around.”

She shrugged, “Well, Bass just started 9th grade and he’s the sweetest boy ever, then Ari is the sweetest starting her second year in college, straight A’s as always. Raquel is annoying as always, mean too, but I think she’s okay with her tattoo shop and school, and you know it’s never easy for Sienna. I don’t think she really grieved Julian’s death, cause she had to grow up and raise her daughter alone.”

I nodded, I remember Julian and Sienna, they were literally the perfect couple, I was sad to hear he was murdered, leaving Sienna alone with their child but she’s stronger than most.

“You know my sister hasn’t had dick in 7 damn years!” Kristen said, bewildered. I spit out my drink back into the glass, “7 fucking years are you kidding me? Is she okay?!”

She shrugged, “I don’t know but she needs something because she can’t be a hermit forever. She’s so beautiful, and yes a little shy but she deserves happiness and I know she’s miserable right now.”

I chuckled, “You sound like me with Ashton, I just need him off of Dahlia’s ass for one minute to realize that he’s a great person and deserves happiness.”

We got our food and started to eat, but still talking, “What if we got Ashton and Sienna together?” She proposed.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re both in the same situation, needing to get out of funks, I know Ashton is something else, but  I just need the cobwebs knocked off my sister. Nothing more, nothing less. ”

“You want us to put together two of the most stubborn people?”

She snorted at my face, “Yes, I don’t think it’ll be a bad idea.”

I shrugged, “Whatever you say.” As I continued to eat my food and enjoy lunch with my best friend.

 Sienna

Thankfully, after dinner on the day of Ju’s passing, my parents said they’d keep Brielle for a few days. They knew how hard it was for me, and I couldn’t nor wouldn’t cry around Brielle.I’m glad for my space, but I wanted my daughter back so bad. I missed having her around.

I knew that before I got her from my parents house, that I needed to stock my house and kitchen with food and clean my house, so I was currently at the grocery store.

Getting all of the necessities of having a six year old and myself, I found myself counting the prices together, knowing I couldn’t buy everything I needed. Being a 27 year old, without proper education and a shitty ass job, has truly kicked me in the ass.

Momma and Baba are there to help, but I don’t like asking for their help, because my mother would literally hold it over my head. We haven’t always had the best relationship, but it’s gotten better since Bri was born.  

I was homeless, up until Brielle was 2 months old, and we lived in my car. My parents didn’t know, until I just couldn’t take it anymore and I asked to stay with them. I guess I was out of it completely, until I heard my name being called.

“Sienna?” I looked up and saw Julian’s sister Jillianna, standing in front of me, with two boys, who looked about Brielle’s age. They resembled Brielle, and I knew that they were Julian’s other children

I froze up, the last time I saw Jilly was the night her mother kicked me out of the apartment.

It was two months after Ju’s funeral and I was sitting on the couch, watching all of our bills pile up. I didn’t have a job and no one would hire a 6 month pregnant, 20 year old who was about to go on maternity leave in a few months.

I looked at our picture on the bookshelf and sighed, “Julian, what am I going to do without you?”

As soon as I spoke that out loud, knocking came on the front door, I carefully got off the couch and waddled to the front door. Opening the door, I saw Julian’s mother and his sister with our landlord, I was confused, because the last time I saw them both, they cursed me out and wouldn’t mention me or our child at his funeral.

“Why are you here at my apartment?” I was ready to slam the door on their faces. His mother smirked and his sister only looked towards the ground.

My landlord sighed, “Sienna, I’m sorry to do this, but the apartment belonged to Julian, and his will stated that everything belonging to him, goes to his mother. So you need to leave.”

I couldn’t even speak, I knew she did this on purpose. I pointed in her face, “You know he gave me this apartment, and you know he loved me. Why are you doing this to me?”

She shrugged with her smirk never leaving her face, “That isn’t my son’s baby. He loved a whore, just like her mother. His real baby mother and twins will live here. Rent free.”

I blinked back, noticing that Jilly was staring at me.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I said how are you doing? I haven’t seen you since- well you know?” She looked off to the side, this was awkward for the both of us.

“Since you and your mother kicked me out, leaving me homeless, with nothing but the clothes on my back? Yeah, I have been fine.” I spat, shifting my weight, I didn’t like being uncomfortable and here we are, me being uncomfortable.

“Look, Sienna I’m sorry. Mother- You know how mother was. I couldn’t stop her.” She pleaded.

I rolled my eyes, “Yes, you could’ve yet, there I was in my pajamas and socks 6 months pregnant banging on my door, of the apartment that I decorated for my daughter and my future husband. Begging to be let back in. Only to get the police called on me.”

“How is your daughter? Brielle right?” Her eyes brightened when she mentioned Bri. But I refused.

I put my hand up, “You do not get to know or ask about her. She wasn’t Jullian’s remember?”

I was over this conversation, and over grocery shopping, I bumped her shoulder walking out of the store.

I had a few hours before I had to go pick up Bri, so I stopped by my best friend Phoenix’s house and told her the entire encounter that I just had with Jilly.

“So you saw the twins?” She patted my hand, sympathetically.

I nodded, sniffling and wiping my tears, “They looked just like Julian did when he was little.I can’t even believe he did that to me.”

Seven years later, and I still was crying over Julian. Not only for his death, but because of the pain he caused me. I wasn’t the only “pregnant girlfriend” crying at his funeral. But his mother liked the other more than she liked me. She told his whole family, I was the mistress and she was the Fiancé. Yet in reality, I had the ring, and she was the mistress.  

I was still stuck on him, and he was the one that uprooted my life.

“I’m so sorry Sienna. Let me go make you some tea.”

She got up to leave when I laughed, “I don’t want tea Phoe. Thank you. What I want is Julian back so I can ask what the hell did he do.”

I didn’t even know he cheated on me, until his damn funeral, I couldn’t view his body, sit with his family. Nothing, I was also ran out of the funeral by his cousins. I thought we were perfect, but it seems to me that, we were an absolute mess and I was a complete idiot.

“You know that can’t-“

“Yes, I know. I just want to know what I did, to make him cheat on me? We were together for 6 years before he died. Teenagers. I was pregnant and then he just.... was gone."

I was starting to get sad again, when my other best friend, Logan sighed,

"Can we please stop talking about this jackass?" He mumbled.

Logan never liked Julian, even when we were kids. They constantly got into fights and neither told me why.

"Can you not be an asshole, Logan?" Phoenix hissed.

"I'm just saying, he was a shitty person in life and after death. He isn't coming back and we all just need to move on to bigger and better things." He said boastfully.

I zoned them out and looked out the window. My life has literally been on pause the da he got shot and killed, and I don't even know why.

"Why was Julian at the place where he got shot?" I mumbled.

"Sienna!" Logan exhaled exasperated.

"He told me that he was going to meet you Logan, across town. Why was he over there?"  

"Sienna, I hated that man and all you thought he was. I don't know why he told you that I was meeting him. I was doing other shit." He looked at his phone "And now, I gotta go, thanks for talking about an asshole for an entire hour. Next time, warn me,"  

He got up and walked out of the door, slamming.

"He's an asshole, why are we friends with him?" Phoenix grumbled. "He's right. I have to move on."

~~~ When I got home from Phoe's house, I picked up Brielle and I got the mail. Opening it up, there was a letter and a check from Julian's estate.

Confused, I opened it up and read the letter from his lawyer. Julian basically set up a trust for Brielle and I, and once she turned 6, we would be notified and given 100,000 dollars. The trust had over 23 million and once Brielle hit 18, she would get her full trust.

I started to cry, Was this real? Was this a joke?

I called the law office, and they confirmed everything was true. I called Baba's lawyer, and he also said it was true.  

I couldn't breathe, I could move out of this shitty ass apartment that I live in, I can finally pay all my bills and buy food. I was immediately thanking God because he knew we needed this. Fumbling through all the papers, I found a letter from Julian.

I had to read it about 10 times, I never been so angry in my life. I didn't know him as well as i thought I did.

I wanted to literally bring him back to life so I could kill him. I decided right then and there, that I wasn't going to be sad over this fucker. I am not harboring onto the past, but I am moving the hell on. and I know exactly what the hell I need to do first.

I picked up the phone, "Hey Phoe, can you watch Brielle for a few hours? I got something I need to fix."

Ashton

I was pulling up to the family house, and I instantly regretted coming. Pops had called a family meeting, so here I am. With my annoying ass little sister.

I hadn't spoken a word to her since the other day, and I know if anything, she told our dad and he was on her side, and I was about to hear more opinions on my relationship with Dahlia. I was tired of it.

I said a quick silent prayer and walked into the family mansion that my dad loved so much. Through the front door was the foyer and had pictures dedicated to Cash and I, and then our mother and father, when they were younger.

Mom died when I was about 14 from Lung Cancer, it was tough on my sister and father, hell it was tough on me too because I miss her everyday.

"Can you stop staring at your mother long enough to come and join the family?" I heard a voice  say,

I turned around to see my older brother and older sister standing at the bottom of the stairs. Asher was 10 years older than me and Aurielle was 12 years older than me. They mom and our dad was together as teenagers and had kids early, then they broke up and came along my mom and my parents had Cash and I.

I dapped up my big brother and hugged my sister, it's been years since I have seen them.

"Autumn can you bring your ass on?" Aurielle yelled up the stairs!

I heard her scream out of frustration, "How many times, do I have to say, my name is Cashmere, please call me Cash!!"

She ran down the stairs not paying attention, we knew that she has always hated her first name, but it was always hilarious to make her upset.

"Okay, Autumn. We understand." We all said, making us laugh and her death glaring at us.

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not 6 anymore, that shit doesn't work." When she noticed me, she kinda cowered away making everyone notice.

Before we could speak on it, Dad called us into his study. Grant Alexander Jasper Scott, 53 years old, and still looked like he could be our older brother. All four of us admired our father and the work he put into making his legacy. By the time Dad and Mom had me, he was 27 and was already a Multimillionaire.

He used to be the greatest drug Distributer in the United States, everyone used Dad for business. Stationed in Chicago, he had dealers in LA, Seattle, New York, New Jersey, Miami, Houston and even Columbia and Mexico. He was a big deal.

But he stopped all of that when he had Cash, and mom threatened he would take us, if he didn't.

We all sat down in his office and waited for him to speak. None of us dared to start first, because this man had a temper that we didnt want to get into. He sighed and played with the brim of his glass of whiskey and took his glasses off.  

"I needed to talk to all of you all together, and it can really change the entire dynamic of our family."

~~~~~

After the meeting at my dad's house, I was in a horrible mood. The news from my father wasn't settling and then Cashmere and I got into another fight. Apparently, she decided to take it upon herself and try to set me on a blind date, with her best friend's sister. If anything, I know about Kristen Hayes, is that she is Bougie as hell, and I know her sister has to be just as bad. When I tell you, I was pissed, I was pissed!

I was at one of my many tattoo shops, telling Austin everything that went down. We owned Onyx Tattoo's together.  We were interrupted when our Receptionist called for us.

"Hey Ace, I got a walk in for a cover-up, she wants it done today. I would ask Austin but he has an appointment in like 30 minutes." Lea smiled sweetly.

She knew that I hated new clients and liked to stick to my own, but it's money either way.

"Ight, send her back." I dapped up Austin as he left and cleaned up my station when the girl walked in.  

I turned around and she was honestly, one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. She has hazel eyes, full lips, and gorgeous long brown hair with the most banging body.

She caught me staring, and cleared her throat, "Are you going stare or?"

I chuckled at her boldness, "My bad, I'm Ace,"

I put out my hand so that she can shake it and she did, "Sienna."

"Nice to meet you Sienna, what would you like to get removed?"

I sat in my chair and picked up my notepad so I could draw what she wanted covered up.

She pulled down her pants to show me, her tattoo on her hip, it read Julian.  

"I want this covered up, with my daughter's footprint from when she was born. and her name and birthday." Then pulled the pants back over the tattoo and sat on the table

I nodded, making small conversation, "You have a kid? You don't look old enough."

She laughed, "Um, she's 6 and I'm 27, so I had her young. Do you have kids?"

I shook my head, " Nah, I want a bunch of them, but I haven't found the right girl."

"Well, take my advice, take your time, the right person could be around the corner, don't rush things and get to know the person before you have children with them."

I looked up from the notepad, and saw her rubbing her hip right where she got the tattoo, and by the way she just spoke to me, I knew that she was coming from a place of hurt.

"That's why you getting the tattoo covered?" I asked, she looked at me and took a minute to answer, it kind of surprised me when she did start talking.

"Yupp, exactly why. I thought about getting it removed, but out of the mess that was Julian and Sienna, came the perfect Brielle, and I wouldn't change her in for anything."

~~

After about two hours, I covered up her tattoo, and even added something extra. When we were done, she got up and looked at it.

"It's perfect. I love it." She smiled and turned to hug me.

It caught me off guard, but it was completely different.

"Thank you so much. How much do i owe you?" She said.

"You good Ma." I said, she was surprised, hell I surprised myself.

"You sure?"

I nodded, "Yeah, just go and get the care package in the front and you're good to go."

"Well, thank you Ace, nice to meet you!"

I smiled, "Nice to meet you too, Sienna."

She hugged me again, and this time I knew exactly this feeling. I hadnt been hugged like this since before my mom got sick, it Definitely made me feel some type of way.

She released the hug and left out of my area to the front.

About 3 clients later and fooling around with Austin getting ready for the next day for business, I was tired. All I wanted to do was go home, and Dahlia just sent me a picture of her naked in my bed, I immediately dipped.

I grabbed my shit and was rushing out the door, "Ayo Lea, call me if anything happens, cancel and reschedule my 11 am to my open at 2pm tomorrow. I won't be in til 12." I smirked,

She rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what I meant. "You got a tip nasty ass."

I was confused, cause my clients always tip me, in the back. She handed me the envelope and I read the front, "From Sienna, To Ace.

"She tipped me $400?" I spoke out loud.

"Psh, she must really like you. Cause i would never." Lea said

And she left me  a note, "I know you said don't pay, but I had too. I love this tattoo and I will be back. Nice to meet you again Ace, thank you :)"

Shit, nice to meet you too Sienna.

[urdearestmom]

Santa’s Helper

hey yall!!! i posted this on ao3 and ff at christmas, but i haven’t been on tumblr much recently, so here you have my christmas oneshot!! hope everyone has had wonderful, restful holidays and love you all <3

El really didn’t want to be stuck here doing this job, but she really needed the money and this was all she could get on such short notice. Santa’s Workshop at Starcourt Mall had just opened for the day and while there weren’t many kids lined up yet, she knew there would be. And because it was getting closer and closer to Christmas, the mall was getting fuller and fuller of crazed shoppers. Hawkins wasn’t even a big city, but the number of people El saw every day was overwhelming.

Usually, there were a few kids who would act out and cause problems while they were waiting for their turn with Santa (who was really just a big man named Benny wearing a wig and a fake beard. He managed the burger joint in the food court, though, and he was really nice), and El’s job was to make sure things didn’t get too out of hand. So far, in her first three days on the job, kids had thrown up, had tantrums, gone potty in their pants, and started fights with other kids. She was kind of going a little insane, but once December 22nd passed, she’d be free and she’d have the money she needed to get on a plane and go visit her dad.

He lived in Florida now that he’d retired. El had gone to college in Bloomington, far removed from her upbringing in upstate New York, and she had then moved to Hawkins with a job offer after graduating. Unfortunately, the job at the newspaper wouldn’t start until January, so El had been getting by on her rent payments and other necessities by working at Benny’s Burgers. However, if she wanted a chance to visit her father for Christmas, she needed money for plane tickets, and so she’d had to get another job to help herself out.

Nothing particularly interesting had happened before the noon hour besides one little girl getting upset that she had to wait so long to talk to Santa (her mom hadn’t been able to calm her down, so El had had to resort to escorting them from the line, which the mother hadn’t been pleased about). El was minding her own business at the gate to Santa’s Workshop when she looked up and saw the most gorgeous man she’d ever come across step into line.   

He was tall and slender, a black denim jacket draped over him accentuating his shoulders. His entirely black outfit contrasted very nicely with the shock of purple hair on his head, which was what had initially drawn El’s attention. She couldn’t see him at the angles she wanted to, considering he was in line and El couldn’t exactly move around and get caught creepily staring at a customer, but from what she could see the man was not someone who would probably be called conventionally attractive. Nevertheless, El was attracted. She’d never exactly been conventional, either.

Bonus: he looked like he was around her age, maybe a little bit older.

Her fellow elf and hall neighbour (who had told her about this job), Dustin Henderson, was smirking at her from across the line.

“See something you like, El-Bell?”

El glared at him. “Shut up, Dustin.”

He snorted but didn’t say anything else, and El went back to looking at the mysterious man. He was a bit closer now, and El could see that he was accompanying a little boy who looked around four. The boy was swathed in winter clothes, a puffy coat zipped all the way up paired with a thick scarf, hat, mittens, and boots. The kid certainly wouldn’t be getting a cold anytime soon, although El worried he might have heat stroke with all those clothes on in the heated mall. She watched as the boy tugged on the man’s hand and said something, and then the man plucked the boy’s hat off. He took his own mittens off and unzipped the top of his coat, revealing his little face, which El suspected was exactly what the man had looked like when he was that small. She wondered what their relationship was. Brothers with a really wide gap? Cousins? Uncle and nephew? Possibly father and son, although that would mean this guy was either older than he looked or the kid had been born when he was very young.

El had only looked away for a moment to make sure the next kid made it to Santa’s lap without falling over, but when she turned back she found the purple haired man looking her way. He’d hefted the boy onto his hip and they were both looking at her, actually, but the man looked in a different direction as soon as he saw that she noticed. The boy, however, continued staring, and he smiled and waved when he saw El looking back at him. Her heart melted at his little grin and she waved back.

The two of them played a game of peekaboo for a few minutes as the boy and his whatever-the-man-was-to-him approached the front, and then El was taken by surprise as Dustin greeted the man. They did some weird one-handed handshake, clearly indicating that they were friends of some sort.

“Hey, man, I didn’t know you worked here,” said the purple haired man. And shit, did he ever have a nice voice. El pretended she wasn’t listening as she looked back at Santa-Benny and then towards the line of kids and parents to check for any disturbances.

“Dude, I told you,” Dustin answered. “You were probably too busy running after Jesse Owens there to remember.”

El heard the man laugh and it filled her with a swelling feeling. Why was everything about this guy so enticing?

“Isn’t that right, Matty?” Continued Dustin. “You like running?”

Matty must be the little boy because El heard a kid’s laugh. “I love running!”

She turned around and saw the last kid getting off of Santa, so she decided to butt in real quick.

“Hey, it looks like Santa’s ready for you!” She said. Matty turned away from Dustin and smiled.

“Yay!” He exclaimed, wriggling to get away from the man holding him. “Let’s go see Santa!”

Matty tugged the man away with him and El raised an eyebrow at Dustin. “Who’s that guy?”

Dustin gave her a sly smile. “Why, you interested?”

El didn’t answer, merely rolling her eyes.

“He’s single, by the way,” he added. “Name’s Mike. We’ve been friends since fourth grade.”

She hummed. “That’s nice. Back for Christmas?”

“No, he’s back permanently.”

El considered this. She wondered why she hadn’t seen him around yet. Little did she know she’d be seeing this Mike around a lot more often.

It turned out that Mike was to be the new occupant of apartment 3C, just down the hall from El and across from Dustin. Apparently, Dustin had convinced Mike to move out of his parents’ place and into the vacant apartment on their floor, which El came to know of one day when she was heading out for another shift at Santa’s Workshop followed by one at Benny’s. She was walking out of her door when a small body crashed into her legs and almost bowled her over. She looked down in shock and was surprised to find that she recognized the child. It was Matty.

“Oh, hello!” She exclaimed. “I know you!”

Matty looked up at her and gasped. “You’re the pretty elf lady!”

El smiled. Pretty. “Why thank you. And you’re Matty, right?” She was waiting almost with bated breath for that gorgeous piece of man to appear somewhere in the hallway. Why else would Matty be here?

Matty laughed. “Yes! Do you live here too?”

El’s answer was interrupted by a beautifully smooth voice. “Matty, you’re not supposed to talk to strangers.”

Matty frowned and looked in the direction of the open door to 3C, which El hadn’t even realized anyone was moving into. The beautiful Mike from last week was standing in the doorway, hair flopping messily as he leaned into the hall.

“But it’s the pretty elf lady!” Matty protested.

El watched as Mike went suspiciously pink, his face clashing with his hair.  “Sorry about him,” he said, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” El replied. “It’s fine. He’s so cute it doesn’t even matter.”

Matty grinned at her from the floor. “The pretty elf lady said I’m cute!”

Mike sighed loudly and lightly smacked his head on the doorframe. “Come inside, Matty,” he pleaded. “Aren’t you going to help me?”

Matty’s dark hair flopped around his face as he got up, much in the same way that Mike’s had moments earlier. He crossed his arms. “I want ice cream.”

“It’s cold outside, I’m not giving you ice cream.”

Matty stomped his foot petulantly. “I don’t care!”

El stifled a laugh. Matty really was adorable.

“I’m gonna mail you back to your mom, I swear,” Mike announced. “Gonna wrap you up like a present and leave you with her for Christmas.”

At this, Matty went streaking down the hall. “No!” He yelled. “I don’t wanna go back to Mommy for Christmas!”

Matty ran inside the open apartment and El heard a thump that sounded like he’d maybe run into a wall. Nobody said anything for a moment, until Matty’s voice came back out.

“I’m okay!”

El grinned and locked her door, watching Mike sigh tiredly again out of the corner of her eye. She was dropping her keys into her purse when he started making his way toward her.

“I’m Mike,” he said, holding his hand out to shake. “Nice to meet you, neighbour.”

“Dustin told me you were friends but he didn’t say you were moving in,” El answered. “Nice to meet you, though. I’m El.”

“El,” he repeated, as if testing how the name felt. El quite liked the way it sounded coming out of his mouth. “Cool name.”

“Cool hair,” she responded, immediately cringing at how awkward she was being.

Mike laughed. “Thanks. My mom never let me do anything to it growing up, so now that I’m officially out of college I thought I’d do something crazy. Usually, it looks like Matty’s.”

El imagined how Mike would look with dark hair, and she thought he would look just as beautiful. She didn’t voice that, however.

“Well,” she said, “unfortunately duty calls. Kids are waiting on the pretty elf lady at the mall.”

Mike bowed dramatically. “Be on your way, pretty elf lady.”

The next time she saw him was two days later. He’d come knocking at her door to ask if she wanted to join a small housewarming party of sorts, consisting of Dustin, himself, and Matty.

“I just thought it’d be cool if I could make another friend in the building,” he’d said, nervously scratching the back of his head, “Dustin’s the only one of the ones I grew up with that still lives here.”

El, of course, jumped at the chance to get to know him better. Hanging with Dustin was always a plus, and getting to see Matty would only be the icing on the cake. So, Friday night after work, instead of lounging around her apartment on her own like a loner, El found herself walking over to 3C.  

The door was opened by the man himself, but El could see Dustin horsing around with Matty on the carpet behind Mike. He smiled brightly as he let her in.

“You came!” He exclaimed. “Make yourself at home, I’m just whipping something up for dinner.”

She said hello to Dustin and Matty, but they were wrapped up in their game and El’s main target was Mike anyway, so she made her way to the kitchen.

“What are you cooking?” She asked. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious.

“Beef stew, I think,” he answered. “But without the potatoes? So it’s just beef and peas, but there’s rice too.”

Something about the way he said it was so cute that El couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose a little as she smiled.

“Sounds good.”

“Yeah, apparently Matty loves this, so I’m figuring out how to make it,” Mike continued, pushing up the front of his hair with one hand and stirring the beef and peas pot with the other. “His mom likes him to eat healthy, so he shouldn’t really be eating junk all that often. And we had pizza last night.”

This was the second time El had heard mention of Matty’s mom, and from the way Mike had mentioned her both times, it seemed like there was a complicated story there.

“His mom?” She questioned. She hoped it wasn’t too forward, after all this was only the second time she had officially met Mike and she didn’t want to be nosy or anything. But she was curious.

He paused, his eyebrows coming together in confusion for a second before his face cleared. “Ah, I forgot you haven’t been here long,” he started. “Everyone here knows about it, I forgot that you probably wouldn’t.”

El raised her brows expectantly, and in response, Mike pointed towards a framed picture sitting in the back corner of the counter. It was a picture of him with Matty that looked fairly recent, and the bottom of the frame read “#1 Dad”.

Oh. Matty was Mike’s son. Jesus. Her surprise must have shown on her face because Mike laughed a little awkwardly.

“Yeah, Matty was a bit of an accident,” he said. “High school girlfriend. She didn’t find out until after we broke up, and then there were a lot of issues because I was supposed to go to college but I wanted to be around because she shouldn’t have to deal with something that big on her own, you know?”

El nodded sympathetically. “I get it, don’t worry. So what happened?”

Mike shrugged. “I went to college. I got to spend time with Matty whenever I was on break, but now that I finished and I moved back here I see him more often. This year he’s spending Christmas with me and then I’m driving him back to Chicago for New Year’s.”

El leaned against the counter contemplatively as she watched Mike flip the switches off on the range. The flames under the pots disappeared. “Well, I’m glad it seems like you guys have a good relationship.”

“Yeah, she’s cool,” he said, turning to the sink to wash his hands. “We respect each other’s wishes. Wouldn’t date her again, but she’d be a good friend.”

El didn’t say anything for a moment, but Mike must have mistaken her silence for something else because he looked at her a little nervously and said, “It’s not a problem, is it? Me having a kid?”

“Why would it be a problem?” What was he implying with that? Could he tell that she liked him already even without barely knowing him?

“No reason, it’s just- girls usually get weird when they find out I have a kid,” he answered, meeting her eyes as if challenging her to have a problem with it.

“Well, Matty’s proven to be nothing short of the cutest kid ever, so far,” she replied.

Mike grinned. “Guys, it’s time for dinner!”

Moments later, Matty and Dustin charged into the kitchen and the group seated themselves. The meal was delicious and Matty didn’t make any fuss. That is, until about halfway through dinner when Mike looked up at him and Matty grinned.

“Stop doing that, we use good manners at the table,” reprimanded Mike, his eyebrows scrunching together in the middle.

Matty shovelled a spoonful of peas into his mouth, slouching against the edge of the table. Dustin looked like he was about to laugh, but he didn’t make any noise. The room was silent again, filled only by the sounds of forks scraping across plates, until a few moments later when Mike looked at Matty again.

“Matty,” he said quietly. “I asked you to stop kicking me. We’re eating.”

Matty’s whole face screwed up as if he was about to scream, and then it cleared and he grinned, showing his teeth. “I wasn’t kicking you, I was loving you with my toes!”

Dustin snorted loudly and El almost choked on her rice. Mike closed his eyes and put a hand to his forehead, but she could see him struggling to keep a straight face. Matty giggled at the reactions of the adults around him, finding the whole situation hilarious.

“Just eat your food, Matty, okay?” Said Mike resignedly after a moment.

“Okay, Daddy!” Exclaimed the little boy, promptly returning to his dinner.

El looked between a sniggering Dustin and an exasperated Mike and had to bring a forkful of beef to her mouth to keep from laughing.

The rest of dinner was uneventful, but then afterwards when Matty tugged on the edge of El’s sweater to ask if she wanted to stay for the movie they were going to watch, she couldn’t say no. He was too cute. And it helped that she could see his dad starting to blush and say she didn’t have to if she didn’t want to.

“Nonsense and poppycock!” She decreed. “Matty wants me to stay, don’t you?”

“Poppycock!” He screeched. “Daddy, what’s poppycock?”

Two hours later found Dustin snoring in the armchair and Matty snuggled under Mike’s arm, sandwiched between his dad and their neighbour on the couch. The two left were softly talking over Matty’s head, the end of Home Alone playing in front of them.

“So what are you doing for Christmas?” Asked Mike, shifting as Matty slid lower.

“Hopefully flying to Florida to spend it with my dad,” El answered him. “I got the elf job so I could buy plane tickets.”

Mike nodded, pressing further into the couch cushions. “That’s nice. We’re going to my parents’, hopefully my older sister makes it.”

“Where does she live?” Questioned El, curiosity piqued.

“New York, so we don’t see her too often.”

A smile broke across her face. “That’s cool! I’m from New York!”

Mike wrinkled his nose. “You’re from New York and you moved to middle-of-nowhere, Indiana?”

This sparked a laugh in El and Mike joined her. “I’m from upstate New York, not New York City. It’s pretty much boringsville up there too. Hawkins isn’t so bad though, I like it here.”

“Yeah? What about it?”

She smiled. “It’s homey. And the people are nice.”

She wasn’t sure if he got what she was implying with that, but it felt good to at least get her foot in the door with trying to make a move. Maybe after Christmas…

Waking up on the morning of Christmas Eve with her bags packed and ready to fly, El had a feeling that something was off. When she looked out the window, she knew why: it was snowing. Hard. Her flight was probably delayed or even cancelled. With a sinking heart and mounting stress, she caught her bus out of town to Indianapolis’ airport.

Luckily, she made it to the airport with only a minor delay, but the counter for the flight she was supposed to be on was suspiciously empty and the workers overly frazzled for it being so early in the morning.

“Hi, I’m checking in for the flight to Fort Lauderdale?” She said, sliding her ticket and passport across the counter. The woman behind it looked at her tiredly.

“We’re sorry ma’am, but all flights have been cancelled until the storm blows over. You can call us then and we’ll be able to offer you a seat on the next flight out,” she explained. “Merry Christmas and I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

El thanked her and went to go sit in a chair in the middle of the terminal. What am I supposed to do now? She sat there with her bags by her feet for a few minutes, slightly panicking and in denial, before she accepted that there was nothing she could do.

“Guess I’ll find a payphone…” She muttered, getting up to look for one. There was one at the other end of the terminal by the security gate, and she punched in her dad’s number with shaking fingers and burning eyes.

He picked up on the third ring. “Hello?” Came his gruff voice.

“Hey, Dad,” said El sadly, pulling at her scarf.

“What’s wrong, kid?”

She sighed. Of course he would be able to tell immediately that something was wrong. “There’s a storm. My flight’s cancelled.”

Her dad blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, Ellie.”

“I’m sorry too, Dad. I really miss you.”

“Well, there’s nothing much you can do, is there?”

“Not really,” she answered. “They told me to call when the storm’s over and they’ll put me on the next flight out. But I don’t think that’ll be before tomorrow…”

“So what are you gonna do?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I have some friends, but they’re spending Christmas with their families.”

She talked to her dad for a few more minutes before her time was running out. “I gotta go, Dad, I’m sorry. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“I love you too, kid. See you soon.” He hung up and El sagged against the payphone in defeat. She was hoping that a bus back to Hawkins was leaving soon.

Unfortunately, the bus schedule told her that the bus she’d been on had left already and that the next one wouldn’t be in for twelve hours, and it was with trepidation that she walked back into the airport, wracking her brains for what to do. She only had two friends she could call, but both of them were probably busy. She figured she’d try anyway.

She called Dustin first, but when he didn’t pick up she remembered that he had told her he’d be leaving his apartment early to help his mom prep the house for their visiting family. He was probably gone already. Feeling the desperation of not wanting to be stuck at the airport all day, El dialled Mike’s landline and prayed he would pick up.

The dial tone seemed to go on forever as she waited, but then the phone clicked as someone answered.

“Hi!”

El could almost taste salvation, but she still had to know if she could even get out of the city. “Hi, Matty. Could you put your dad on the phone, please? It’s El.”

“Daddy!” Screamed Matty. “It’s for you!”

Mike’s voice sounded tinny and far away as he responded. “I told you not to the answer the phone, only I do that, okay?”

“But it’s not bad people.”

“For the love of God… hello?”

“Hi, Mike, it’s El. Hope I’m not interrupting anything important?”

“Hey!” He didn’t sound particularly stressed about anything… “No, we’re not leaving till later. What’s up? I thought you were supposed to be at the airport.”

El sighed into the phone. “I am, but my flight got cancelled because of the snow and the bus back home isn’t coming for twelve hours. Is there any way you could help me out? I tried Dustin but I think he’s already at his mom’s.”

“Yeah, he left, like, twenty minutes ago,” Mike answered, confirming her suspicion. “That sucks, though. I can drive down and pick you up, but I’ll be about two hours.”

“Are you sure?” El stood straight, tense with anticipation.

“Don’t worry about it!” He reassured. “My car’s good with snow, I’ll get there fine. It would suck for you to have to spend Christmas Eve stranded at the airport.”

“Okay, so I can be at post 23 in two hours…”

El could almost cry at the good heart Mike had. He was truly a blessing in her life, in many ways. As the days had progressed since the dinner she’d had at his apartment, they had hung out more, always with Matty but a lot of times without Dustin. Mike was kind and caring, if a little hardheaded and with strong opinions. But El didn’t mind; she liked a challenge in conversation. In fact, she couldn’t think of much that she didn’t like about Mike, and it only made her feel more and more attracted to him. He was probably the closest to her dream man that anyone had ever come.

In any case, she had to find some way to keep herself occupied until he managed to get to Indianapolis, so she dug out her copy of Animal Farm and started reading where she’d last left off. She was slumped over in her chair, the book nearly falling out of her grasp, when she looked at her watch and started, seeing that two hours were nearly up. She gathered her belongings and made her way outside, looking in the direction of the agreed-upon meeting spot for Mike’s little blue BMW. Luckily for her, she didn’t have to wait very long before it appeared in the falling snow, Mike throwing open his door and coming around to take her bags and stow them in the trunk.

El quickly tucked herself into the passenger seat, shivering as she shut the door and waited for the rumbling radiator to warm her up. Moments later, Mike jumped back into the driver’s seat and drove off down the terminal in the direction of the highway.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” she said. “I can’t believe you actually came.”

Mike smiled at her and reached out for her left hand. “It’s not a problem at all. Your hands are cold, though, do you want the heat up?”

“If you can,” she answered, teeth chattering.

He reached out for the knob and El noticed Matty asleep in the backseat. She giggled.

“He came for me too?”

Mike looked in the rearview mirror quickly. “Yeah, he absolutely refused to stay with my mom. Fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago, but he wouldn’t stop talking the whole way about how excited he was to see you for Christmas, even though he literally saw you yesterday,” he said, rolling his eyes. “He really likes you.”

El smiled softly at the little boy even though he couldn’t see her. “Well, I’m glad. I’m gonna miss him when he goes back to his mom.”

“Yeah…”

“How long until you have him next?”

Mike kept his eyes on the road as he calculated. “Three weeks? I think that’s what we agreed on. It’s better than the months it used to be because of college.”

El nodded, looking out her window at the rapidly building snowdrifts on the sides of the highway. “Do you ever think about what it would’ve been like if he’d never been born?”

She saw Mike’s purple locks flop a little as he flicked them out of his eyes.

“Sometimes. I don’t know if I would’ve made the same mistake if I could go back,” he replied. “It’s been hard on both of us as young parents. But,” he added, “Although I would’ve supported Isabel in whatever she wanted, I’m glad she didn’t end it. He’s an amazing kid and I love him more than anything.”

They were all silent for a moment before Mike tapped at the steering wheel randomly and asked, “What about you? You ever think about having kids?”

El nodded. “Sometimes. I want to get settled in first. Have a good, stable job, a place to live, and maybe marriage first. But that’s not necessarily an absolute.”

He hummed in response. “Sounds reasonable.”

“Yeah,” laughed El. “I have the place and I’m going to have the job, now all I need is a boyfriend. But one of those isn’t as easy to find.”

Mike cut her a quick look. “Dustin could totally set you up, he’s good at that.”

“Oh, trust me, he’s already tried.”

“Really? With who?”

And so El launched into the stories of all her failed dates with guys Dustin had set her up with, she and Mike crying laughing by the end. Matty was still soundly asleep and tinkling Christmas music was streaming through the radio. Snow continued falling thickly outside, but it wasn’t much of a hindrance. The BMW was a beast in winter. They were probably halfway back before Mike uttered a surprised, “Oh!”

“I’m so stupid!” He exclaimed. “I just remembered this probably means you’ll be spending Christmas on your own, yeah?”

El shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll be able to get to my dad.”

“Why don’t you come over with us? My mom loves having guests,” he suggested. “And then you can go right back to your place when I go home.”

She considered it. “If you’re sure it’s okay.”

“Absolutely!”

It turned out she had absolutely nothing to worry about. Mike’s family was more than welcoming, although she could tell his father didn’t really have much holiday spirit. Matty was excited to tell his aunts and his grandmother all about how El was an elf who worked with Santa and that she must be really nice if Santa picked her. Dinner was a delicious meal prepared by the matriarch of the household, and El could understand where Mike got his cooking skills from. His sisters, although one much younger, were both equally interesting people to talk to and interact with. El found herself a bit sad that she would likely never have reason to hang out with them again. The only issue came up when Mike, El, and Matty were getting ready to leave: they were about to be snowed in, and Mrs. Wheeler absolutely refused to let them leave under such conditions.

So, El ended up sharing a room with the older sister, Nancy. She didn’t make a fuss about having to share with a woman she’d just barely met, which El was grateful for. They’d just have to make ground digging Mike’s car out in the morning.

Coincidentally, the next morning El woke early. Nancy was still asleep, and it seemed the rest of the house was as well. But when she made her way to the bathroom she’d been shown the night before with her toiletry bag, she found Mike stumbling out his door, already dressed. He started when he saw her and she laughed at his expression.

“Merry Christmas, Mike,” she whispered.

He rubbed his eye and yawned. “Merry Christmas, El. Slept well?”

“Yup,” she answered, entering the bathroom and taking her toothbrush out of the bag she brought. “Thanks again for letting me celebrate with you.”

“You’re welcome, it was a pleasure,” he replied.

He stood by the door waiting for her to finish brushing her teeth and then her hair, and then they switched places, except El went back to the room to change into her day clothes. When she came out and went downstairs, it was only to bump into Mike in the doorway to the kitchen, and she suddenly had an urge to look up.

What she saw threw her heart into her throat. A sprig of mistletoe was attached to the beam right above Mike’s head, which meant that…

He had followed her gaze. “Oh, uh, we don’t have to do that,” he stuttered, face fire quickly spreading. “My mom just puts it up to mess with us.”

However, as El saw it, she had two options and only one of them was viable. So she followed her instincts, throwing caution to the wind and grasping Mike’s arms lightly over his sweater as she leaned up to give him the kiss that the mistletoe demanded.

Pulling apart moments later, neither opened their eyes right away, both savouring the feeling of what was surely the first of many kisses.

Finally, they opened their eyes, and upon making eye contact they both started giggling like little kids who just opened presents on Christmas morning, because that was essentially what they were.

“Merry Christmas again, Mike,” said El happily.

“The Merriest of all,” he responded.

El was definitely going places with this nut by her side.

[gnomesagetion]

Missing Gears Chapter 1

Things always go wrong when something good happens. For example: The Thunderbirds were just starting up when Gordon Tracy was the only survivor of a holfoil crash. An engagement of a Tracy son and an ex FBI agent when someone is out to get International Rescue. But sometimes good things come from the bad things in our lives.

Read on: Fanfiction.Net AO3 Wattpad

Naomi and Virgil stood hand in hand outside a church in Matamata, New Zealand. Three weeks earlier Virgil had proposed to Naomi at a New Year’s party with her old team at the FBI. Three days later they had decided that they wanted to get married at Naomi’s old church in her hometown. A week after that, Naomi had started packing her stuff for her move to Tracy Island. Although Jeff Tracy had told the couple that he was perfectly fine with Virgil moving back to America to live with his soon to be wife, both Naomi and Virgil wanted to live on the island. So that Virgil could continue working for International Rescue. So that Naomi could join International Rescue.

“You okay Nomey?” Virgil asked his fiancé “Yeah. Just nervous. I haven’t been here for over 20 years. I don’t even remember who was running the office,” “You were barely six when you left,” “Yeah. And I barely remember anyone from here. And like 60% of the church was at the funeral,” “So let’s get this over and done with,” “Yeah,”

Naomi knocked on the office door. A short women opened it. She looked very familiar to Naomi “Hi, can I help you?” She asks “Um… Hi, I’m Naomi Winchester and this is my fiancé Virgil Tracy. We were wondering if we could have our wedding here,” “Come on in, I’ll see what I can do,” The women showed the couple into the office “I’m Philippa Winchester by the way,” Naomi laughed a little. “I think my cousin on my dad’s side has a wife called Philippa,” She explained “It’s not every day this sort of thing happens,” “What’s your cousin’s name?” “Err… It can’t be Nat or Theo because I know for certain they’re still bachelors. Maru is who knows where doing who knows what. Brian, David and Kelvin all have a different last names. Anthony lives in Rotorua while Jeremy is in Wellington. So that leaves Sam and Matthew,” Naomi counts on her fingers “I think its Matt but I can’t be sure. I haven’t seen any of my cousins since I was like six,” “So you’re the cousin who moved to America,” “Yeah. Wow. Are you and Matt living here?” “On a farm out on Taihou South,” “Cool,” “Anyway, besides the mini family reunion, you two want to get married here,” “Yeah. Naomi grew up here and we thought it would be nice if we married in Naomi’s hometown,” “So what date are you thinking about?” Philippa asked, logging onto the computer. “We haven’t…” “July 14th,” Virgil interrupted “No more tears of sadness,” “A winter wedding?” “Why not?” “You just want it to be easier to remember my birthday,” Naomi bantered with her fiancé playfully “Have I ever forgotten your birthday?” “No. But your brother has,” “So we have nothing planned or booked on Wednesday 14th July this year, would you like us to book you in for the day?” Philippa asked “Yes please,” Naomi and Virgil said in union. A tall boy walked through the door. “Hey Mum,” He looked up and saw the two visitors in the office. “Caleb, this is your dad’s cousin Naomi and her fiancé Virgil,” Philippa told her son “They’re planning to have their wedding here in Matamata,” “Hey,” Naomi said “Nice to meet you,” “You too,” Caleb said “I’m going to Uncle Sam’s now Mum. I’ll be back on Thursday,” “Okay. See you then,” Naomi sighed. “I completely forgot how many people there are on my dad’s side,” “Well the church will be big enough for the whole family,” Philippa told the couple “That’s true,” Naomi agreed “So anything else we need to do before we leave?” “Yeah, just your address and payment details,” Philippa told the couple. Virgil grabbed the pen and paper. “Remember most of the payment for the wedding is coming from my bank account,” “I’ll pay for the venue – you save it for the dress,” Naomi rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’ll contact you guys later with more details,” “Thanks Philippa,” Naomi told her cousin’s wife “No problem. But don’t be surprised if you get a wedding present from the church,” The three adults laughed. “See you around,” Virgil said “We’ve got a few more jobs to do before we head home tomorrow,” “Of course, I won’t keep you any longer,”

15 minutes later, Naomi pulled into a driveway. A blue letter box stood on a wooden post at one end. At the other end, an old house from the 1970s stood. “Welcome to the Winchester farm,” She told her fiancé “My childhood home,” “It’s beautiful,” “For an old house. That my dad helped to build when he was nine,” Naomi said “That shed must have been put up after I left though. I don’t remember that being there,” “I think we should go talk to the occupants, they must be wondering whose car this is,” Virgil suggested. “Good idea,” They got out of the car and went up the concrete steps. They walked along a path to a set of orange wooden steps. “My poppa made these before he died,” Naomi explained “The only way down before these were made were the steps on the other side and the front porch,” “You really remember all that?” “Of course I do. I always was a bright kid,” Naomi took a deep breath and knocked on the front door. A teenage girl opened the door. “Can I help you?” “Um Hi, I’m Naomi. This is my fiancé, Virgil, are your parents’ home?” “Yeah,” The girl answers “Mum! Someone’s at the door for you!” An older women appeared. “Hi, you must be the landlord’s niece,” The women said “I’m Kristen Jones, we’re renting the house at the moment,” “I’m Naomi Winchester, this is my fiancé, Virgil,” Naomi introduced herself and the middle Tracy. “Come on in,” Kristen said.

Kristen handed Naomi a glass of water and Virgil a cup of coffee. “Congratulations on your engagement,” She told the couple “So when’s the wedding,” “July 14th,” Naomi told the women “We’re having it at the bible church in town and we were wondering if we could use the house for the night since neither one of us own property here in New Zealand,” “Well we’re on holiday in Australia at that time so feel free to use it for a week if you need to,” Kristen said “Mr Turner explained the situation to us over the phone a few days ago,” “Thank you so much Kristen,” Virgil smiled “This means a lot to us,” “No problem,” “We’ve got the wedding venue done as well as a place to stay. Still need to worry about the cake, catering, the dress and the people in the wedding party and people invited,” “I’ve got a friend who does catering, I’ll give you her number,” Kristen said, writing down a number on her notepad “Just tell her that Kristen Jones gave you the number,” “Thank you again Kristen,” Naomi said, handing over a card “Here’s my number if something crops up. Obviously I don’t work for the FBI anymore,” “Thanks, I hope you two can get everything ready in time for your wedding,”

Cameron Muter sat in his apartment, reading the latest issue of New Life. The cover story was the announcement of Virgil Tracy and Naomi Winchester’s engagement. While the news of their engagement had been released some weeks prior by The Maze, the Tracy family had only just officially confirmed the fact. It had a photo of the middle Tracy son holding his bride-to-be gently. He had extra reason to. The lucky girl’s right arm was in a dark blue sling. The article stated that the 29 year old had recently been caught in crossfire while saving the fourth Tracy son. Cameron sighed. It would have been better if that Tracy had died when he was supposed to. It would have meant that the Tracy family would have to go through even more pain that they were originally going to go through. Because of the red haired son, Jeff Tracy was going to have to watch his first daughter-in-law perish alongside all of his sons. Cameron picked up his phone and dialled the number at the top of his contacts list. His only contact. “Good evening sir, I’m afraid to report that this time, it seems, that the rumours of a Tracy bride were true,”

[inthelovehouse]

Helplessly in Love

A little human verse SpaMano (very belated!) story written for stuffandsassafras in thanks for artwork that she made for me! I hope you enjoy it, Jess, it has been awhile since I have written for this fandom!

Plot: Newlyweds sweetly waking up in the morning together during their honeymoon. Pairing: SpaMano (Spain/Romano) Human Names: Antonio (Spain) and Lovino (Romano) Wordcount: 1,057

Sunshine beamed through the window, falling down upon the peaceful bedroom. Tranquility reigned it, giving off a comfortable feeling of being. It seemed like another good day filled with merriment in the beautiful streets of Italy. The bustling of people outside and the sway of water from the force of boats could be heard from inside of the home. Still, there was nothing — only the content silence.

Except, it was not another normal day. At least, that was not how neither Antonio nor Lovino, saw it. To them, this was an early day into their new life, the fourth day since their marriage, to be exact.

It had been a beautiful ceremony back in Spain, one which took place five months after Antonio got down on his knee and asked for Lovino’s hand in marriage. The answer had been obvious, so very clear by the way that Lovino had shed tears of rare outward joy and threw his arms around Antonio. Like that evening, the one of the wedding had been full of celebration. Their family and friends came to it, joining them in their glee and joy, yet Antonio and Lovino had only been able to focus on one another, relishing in the new direction that their relationship had taken.

They had been dating since they were teenagers, when Lovino had moved with his brother, Feliciano, to Spain in order to live with their grandfather while attending a performing arts school. Antonio had been in the theater club and on the soccer team, an odd, but fitting contrast for someone as filled with energy and enthusiasm as him. It had only been a matter of time before they caught one another’s eyes, becoming inseparable the more that they spoke to each other, accepting their faults and virtues, falling in love.

Really, it had only been a matter of time before they got married. It surprised nobody, not even Feliciano, as naïve as he was, that they would get married in their early twenties rather than later on.

After the evening of their wedding had passed and morning came to light again, the newlyweds had headed to Italy for their honeymoon. They decided to go back to Lovino’s hometown since he had not been there in years, only once or twice since he moved to Spain. Antonio had naturally been thrilled by the prospect, beyond ready to learn more about Lovino and his history. It had embarrassed Lovino, really, however, it had also been very flattering.

So that was the story of how they wound up where they were now, curled up in a bed together in their rented home in Italy. The week had been so magnificent that neither wanted to see it end. For now, they were grateful for fact that it didn’t have to.

Lovino had been the first to stir, the sunlight falling down right onto his eyes. Shifting at the heat, he hazily opened his eyes, his eyebrows coming together. There was a frown that came onto his face. Groggily, he scooted over, closer to Antonio, turning his face into his husband’s bare shoulder. Sighing in relief at how that felt a lot better than his previous position, he lazily shut his eyes again. These past few days, there had been no time for his usual siestas so he had been getting less sleep. Besides, it meant that he had a proper excuse to hold Antonio, although he was sure that he would do that even if he did not have one.

When arms wrapped around him though, his eyes briskly opened again, a brief feeling of surprise striking him, causing for his heart to pick up. Looking down, he saw that Antonio had merely embraced him closer. Giving a sigh of relief, Lovino allowed it, his hand moving to press onto his husband’s chest. His movement must have awakened Antonio or maybe he had been awake the entire time. Antonio could be pretty unpredictable.

“You almost made me have a heart attack.” Lovino halfheartedly remarked, although his tone was light and warm, coated over by tiredness. It was not meant to be taken seriously, especially not with the way that he was clinging to Antonio.

Contrary to popular belief, Antonio had woken up shortly after Lovino had, if it could even be called at. It was more like he was still in that half-asleep state with a fog resting over his mind. His urge to bring Lovino closer against him had merely been a subconscious movement. Therefore, when Lovino spoke with that lovely accent dripping off of his lips like honey, Antonio blearily hummed, “Hmmm?” before starting to become aware of his surroundings.

When he realized what Lovino had said, Antonio opened his eyes, at last, warmly crinkling them as he glanced down at the other. He noticed Lovino’s hand on his chest, being keen enough to do so. The ring around Lovino’s finger gleamed where it rested, prompting for Antonio’s lips to lift upwards in a loving smile. Slowly, his hand came up to cover Lovino’s own, their rings rubbing together.

“It’s not my fault that you were always such a scaredy cat, Lov.” Antonio cooed back, teasing him.

A scoff escaped Lovino at that, followed by a snort, although he returned the gesture, fingers tenderly curling around Antonio’s.

“No, I mean that- Nevermind.” Lovino sighed out, knowing that it would be no use to go on and that he also had no point to prove. He brought his free arm over his own face, hiding a quirk of his lips when Antonio pressed a kiss to his temple.

Antonio flashed a white-toothed grin at that. Rolling over and taking Lovino with him, he went onto his back and pulled Lovino into his lap. He stared up at Lovino, who had a rosy shade on his tanned skin, much like Antonio had on his own, except the former’s was highlighted by the sunshine’s hues.

“I love you.” He wooed, making Lovino freely chuckle and squeeze their still joined hands.

Tilting his head to peer down at Antonio, bit by bit, Lovino found himself leaning down until he was looming over Antonio. Pressing his lips against Antonio’s forehead, they both clearly smiled as he replied, “I love you more.”

I love you most.

I love you hard.

I love you helplessly.

[mtwy]

Rolling Stone

USA November 22nd 1984

The singer doesn’t have to thank any lucky stars for her newborn success. She’s been planning this baby for a long time. Madonna and I are face to face at a corner table at Evelyne’s, a cacophonous but spiffily appointed French restaurant in the heart of New York’s most newly gentrified neighborhood, the East Village. Things are changing rapidly in this part of town. Its Ukrainian meeting halls and no-frills eateries are under siege from the upscale crowd invading with their asparagus ferns and health-club memberships. Although in transition, many of the neighborhood’s blocks still have the same seediness they had when the teenaged Madonna Ciccone first plopped herself down in her own digs.

“The first apartment I ever had all by myself,” she recalls between sips of Campari, “was on Fourth Street and Avenue B, and it was my pride and joy, because it was the worst possible neighborhood I could ever live in.” Back then she was a struggling dancer, the girl from the University of Michigan who was “dying for attention – but the right kind, you know?” She has gotten it. Her sirenlike voice and ultrasultry video presence have yanked her from downtown obscurity. She has notched two Top Ten singles, “Borderline” and “Lucky Star,” and her album, Madonna, has gone platinum and is still high on the charts after a more than forty-week run, postponing the release of the already recorded follow-up LP, Like a Virgin, itself as chock-full of hits as its predecessor. Consider Madonna, though, and it’s easy to drift away from her songs and prattle instead about her videos. They have practically rediscovered what it means to project raw sex appeal: feverish tugging on her dress in “Burning Up,” as if she couldn’t wait to tear the garment off her body; her pouty-lipped antics for “Borderline”; and the upfront eroticism of “Lucky Star,” her breasts and bottom thrust at the camera, index finger teasingly tucked into her mouth. Still, her most important bodily part has been her naked tummy, exposed by her two-piece outfits, the curve of it oscillating through male minds everywhere. Now Madonna has a spacious loft in even-tonier SoHo, a movie deal (she’s currently making Desperately Seeking Susan for Orion Pictures), and an expanse of money and stardom winging her way. Which is why she can glance out the window of this restaurant and say, “Feels great to come back to this neighborhood and know I’m not as poor as everyone else.” That rub you the wrong way? Too bad – that’s her style. She’s in the same sans-midriff getup featured in her videos, but in person, she doesn’t adopt the coyly fetching approach you might anticipate. This is a woman who saves her sex-bomb act for the times when the meter’s running. And don’t let her oft-flashed “Boy Toy” belt buckle fool you. The men who have gotten close to her – tough guys a lot of them – have gotten their hearts broken as often as not. Throughout her life, there has been one guiding emotion: ambition. “I think most people who meet me know that that’s the kind of person I am,” she says. “It comes down to doing what you have to do for your career. I think most people who are attracted to me understand that, and they just have to take that under consideration.” Some have; some haven’t and have lived to regret it. “You’d think that if you went out with someone in the music business that they’d be more understanding,” she says, “but people are the same wherever you go. Everybody wants to be paid more attention to.” Madonna Louise Ciccone – she was named after her mother – had plenty of attention early in her life. Born in Bay City, Michigan, twenty-four years ago to a Chrysler engineer and his wife, she was the eldest daughter in a family of six: Daddy’s little girl. But her world shattered when she was six, as her mother succumbed to a long bout with cancer. The tragedy brought her yet closer to her father, and there have been few women in her life ever since. “I really felt like I was the main female of the house,” she remembers. “There was no woman between us, no mother.” Her little world altered just as dramatically when Madonna was eight, on the night her father announced to the family that he was going to marry the woman who had been the family’s housekeeper. Madonna was shocked. “It was hard to accept her as an authority figure and also accept her as being the new number-one female in my father’s life. My father wanted us to call her Mom, not her first name. I remember it being really hard for me to get the word mother out of my mouth. It was really painful.”

“I hated the fact that my mother was taken away, and I’m sure I took a lot of that out on my stepmother.” Perhaps smarting from what she took for rejection by her father, Madonna threw herself into the world of the fantastic. In eighth grade, she appeared in her first movie, a Super-8 project directed by a classmate, in which an egg was fried on her stomach (even then he knew). She watched old movies at revival houses. She acted in plays at the series of Catholic high schools that she attended. She danced to Motown hits in backyards. Indeed it was dance that became the consuming passion of her adolescent life. She’d take all her classes early so she could leave school and head into the big city to take yet more classes. She saw world-famous companies whenever they came through town. And her ballet teacher became what she calls “my introduction to glamour and sophistication.” He showed his charge a world she didn’t know existed. “He used to take me to all the gay discotheques in downtown Detroit. Men were doing poppers and going crazy. They were all dressed really well and were more free about themselves than all the blockhead football players I met in high school.” Rigid, but with a sense of humor, he became Madonna’s first mentor: “He made me push myself,” she says. By all accounts, she was a wonderfully talented terpsichorean, and he thought she could make it big. “He was constantly putting all that stuff about New York in my ear. I was hesitant, and my father and everyone was against it, but he really said, ‘Go for it.'” Boasting a solid grade-point average in addition to her dancing skills, Madonna graduated from Rochester Adams High School in 1976 and won herself a scholarship to the University of Michigan dance department. Once there, the seventeen-year-old Madonna – no less luscious in a short, spiky, black hairdo – pored through poems by Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath (“any really depressed women”) and attempted to wreak all manner of havoc in her hoity-toity ballet classes. One former classmate of Madonna’s recalls a grim plié exercise – deep knee bends with the stomach held in and the posture perfect – that dissolved when Madonna emitted a huge belch. Or the hot day when the lissome lass moaned what a drag it was to have to take class in leotards, and why couldn’t she just wear a bra? “I was a real ham,” she says, chortling. “I did everything I could to get attention and be the opposite of everyone else. I’d rip my leotards and wear teeny little safety pins. And I’d run my tights. I could have gone to a nightclub right after class.” That’s exactly where she wound up one night: the Blue Frogge, the U of M’s pastiest preppie disco. She was dancing away – engulfed in right-assed white boys doing their John Travolta imitations – when around the corner came this black waiter. “He was real cute,” she recalls. “Someone all soulful and funky looking you couldn’t help but notice. First time in my life I asked a guy to buy me a drink.” And he did. The guy she’d picked up was a musician named Steve Bray, and he would eventually change her life. Bray – witty, sophisticated, cool – was a drummer in an R&B band that did the lounge circuit. Madonna became a regular fixture at their gigs. “She wasn’t really a musician back then; she was just dancing,” says Bray today. Aside from her beauty, Bray recalls being captivated by the veritable aura around this feisty, footloose female. It was unmistakably the aura of ambition. “She stood out, quite. Her energy was really apparent. What direction she should put that energy in hadn’t been settled, but it was definitely there.” “Those were good days,” Madonna recalls. “But I knew my stay at Michigan was short-term. To me, I was just fine-tuning my technique.” After five semesters, she turned her back on her four-year free ride and headed for New York City. Steve? Oh, yeah. “Looking back, I think that I probably did make him feel kind of bad, but I was really insensitive in those days. I was totally self-absorbed.” It wouldn’t be the last time. Every item ever written about Madonna touts her membership in the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. Not so. Soon after her arrival in New York, she apparently won a work-study scholarship and was later asked to take classes with the troupe’s third company, which is a little like getting a tryout for the sub-junior-varsity team. Still, it was her first encounter with people who were as driven as she. “I thought I was in a production of Fame,” she giggles. “Everyone was Hispanic or black, and everyone wanted to be a star.” Madonna was not to the minors born. She left Ailey after a few months and hooked up with Pearl Lang, a former Martha Graham star whose style Madonna describes as “a lot of pain and angst.” This was not a match made in heaven, and she left the company soon after. Living a hand-to-mouth existence in the city and continuing to ignore the pleas of her father that she cease this silly business and finish college, Madonna started scanning the trades for less limiting work: parts where she would not only dance but sing. And that’s when she met Dan Gilroy. He wasn’t drop-dead hip like the other guys she’d known; he was an affable, self-effacing fellow from Queens. He and his brother, Ed, were both musicians and had rented out an abandoned synagogue in Corona, Queens, where they lived and rehearsed. Madonna and Dan met at a party and hit it off – she spent a couple of nights at the synagogue. “He stuck a guitar in my hand and tuned it to an open chord so that I could strum,” she remembers. “That really clicked something off in my brain.” She cut back to only one dance class a day. While the relationship was still in its infancy, however, Madonna was given what seemed like the chance of a lifetime; to go to Paris and do background singing and dancing for Patrick Hernandez, a disco lunk who had lucked into a “worldwide hit” with the forgettable “Born to Be Alive.” She would be given a beautiful apartment, a maid, a voice coach, people to guide her career. “I was in seventh heaven.” she remembers. “I kept thinking, ‘I can’t believe it. Somebody noticed me.'” In Paris, everything was as promised, but she wasn’t happy. “I was like the poor little rich girl,” she recalls. The guidance was a joke. No one would talk to her in English. They said they wanted to turn her into the next Edith Piaf, but how could they if she hadn’t written anything? She felt lonely, miserable and confined. “Once again I was forced into the role of enfant terrible. All I wanted to do was make trouble, because they stuck me in an environment that didn’t allow me to be free.” So she’d order three desserts in a fancy restaurant and skip the entree. She took up with a Vietnamese kid with a motorcycle. She went to Tunisia with the Hernandez tour, club-hopped with some lively locals and went swimming in a one-piece body stocking. You see, she just wanted to be noticed. Of course, there was still this guy in Queens, batting out letters to his loved one. “He was my saving grace,” she says. “His letters were so funny. He’d paint a picture of an American flag and write over it, like it was from the president, ‘We miss you. You must return to America.’ He really made me feel good.” A walloping case of pneumonia persuaded her to come back. As soon as she hit stateside, she rang the synagogue. She spent the better part of a year there, writing songs for the first time and learning how to play a variety of instruments. “My intensive musical training,” she says with a sigh. “It was one of the happiest times of my life. I really felt loved. Sometimes I’d write sad songs and he’d sit there and cry. Very sweet.” In that nurturing atmosphere, Madonna and the brothers Gilroy started a band called the Breakfast Club, with fellow ex-dancer Angie Smit on bass and Madonna on drums. They would rehearse every day there; Madonna had yet to move in with her beau. “I stayed there so much, but I hadn’t really moved there yet, and I remember when I said, ‘Can I just live here, Dan?’ And he said. ‘Well, we have to ask Ed.’ And I said, ‘Ed! You have to ask Ed?'” The Gilroys had been honing their musical skills for a number of years, but simple craft is not the surest way to success in the music business, and Madonna had something that was more useful: moxie. Dan Gilroy recalls it well. “She’d be up in the morning, a quick cup of coffee, then right to the phones, calling up everybody – everybody. Everyone from [local record dealer] Bleecker Bob’s to potential management. Anything and everything.” “I was just a lot more goal oriented and commercial minded than they were,” says Madonna. “I just took over in the sense that I said, ‘What do you know? Teach it to me.’ I took advantage of the situation. I wanted to know everything they knew, because I knew I could make it work to my benefit.” Cold words? Perhaps. She knew what to do. “Immediately, when I started working with them, I started thinking record deals, making records and doing shows and stuff like that. And, of course, most of the people you have to deal with are men, and I think I just was naturally more charming to these horny old businessmen than Dan and Ed Gilroy.” As Madonna herself realizes, Dan Gilroy “had created a monster. I was always thinking in my mind, ‘I want to be a singer in this group, too.’ And they didn’t need another singer.” Dan found himself torn between his girlfriend – who wanted to sing more, who wanted the band to use her songs – and his brother, Ed. After a year, Madonna announced her intention to return to Manhattan and pursue a singing career. The romance – and the instructional period – were over. “I knew that with that kind of drive and devotion to getting ahead something had to happen.” Gilroy says. Was she more talented than her confreres? “No, she didn’t strike me as . . . well, she was fun, you know? She’d be working at this design thing that I was doing and she would kind of break into a dance in the middle of the day. An incredible attention getter. So that’s got to tell you something.” Yes, but given the tensions, was Dan glad to see her go? “Well, no,” he says. “I missed her very much.” He had taken her in and had taught her the skills she needed, and now she was leaving him. Most of the time she hadn’t even had to work a day job. “Ah, well, I was doing a job anyway, so having her there was just a bonus,” says Dan. “It was fun. It was a good year. And besides,” he jokes, “I have a palimony suit now, you know? Marvin Mitchelson, where are you? Of course, he doesn’t win too many of those, does he?” Back in the big city once more, Madonna quickly summoned a ragtag band around her. Good fortune struck in the form of a telephone call from her old Michigan boyfriend, drummer Steve Bray – he was coming to New York. “I found out that, oddly enough, she needed a drummer,” he recalls. “So I said, ‘Fine, I’ll be there next week.'” “He was a lifesaver,” says Madonna. “I wasn’t a good enough musician to be screaming at the band about how badly they were playing.” Times were very lean as they began working together, playing and writing songs. They moved themselves, their equipment and personal belongings into the Music Building, a garment-center structure that had been converted into twelve floors of rehearsal rooms. It housed the cream – if you can call it that – of the post-New Wave scene in New York. Nervus Rex was there, and so were the Dance and the System. “I thought they were all lazy,” says Madonna of that scene. “I felt a lot of affection for them, but I thought that only a handful of people were going to get out of that building to any success.” Bray notes that Madonna was not exactly the most popular person on the scene. “I think there was a lot of resentment of someone who’s obviously got that special something. There are so many musicians out there, but there are only a few who really have that charisma. The community out there kind of, I think, frowned on her about that. She had trouble making friends.” It didn’t matter much to Madonna, who felt that most of the groups there wanted only to hit it big among their pals. She wanted to be big nationwide, and the scene didn’t approve of such a desire. “It was like living in a commune,” agrees Bray, “very close-minded thinking – if you’re good in New York, if you can get regular jobs at CBGB’s or at Danceteria, that’s fine, you’ve made it. And that’s definitely not the case.” Her band changed names like socks: first they were the Millionaires, then Modern Dance and finally Emmy, after a nickname that Dan Gilroy had given Madonna. (“I wanted just Madonna,” says she. “Steve thought that was disgusting.”) By any name, it was a hard-rocking outfit that was continually beset by snafus, especially when it came to guitarists. “She was playing really raucous rock & roll, really influenced by the Pretenders and the Police,” says Bray with a sigh. “She used to really belt. If we’d found that right guitar player, I think that’s when things would have taken off … but there are so many horrible guitar players in New York, and we seemed to get them all.” The money was too short, and the band finally split up. Meanwhile, a manager heard a demo that Madonna had put together (it was an early version of “Burning Up”) and signed her up. As part of the deal, she was put on salary and moved out of the Music Building, ending up in spacious digs on New York’s Upper West Side. Madonna was quick to pull Bray onto the gravy train. Her new band – called Madonna – started playing the circuit yet again. Madonna’s notion of music, however, was starting to change. It was the heyday of urban contemporary radio in New York, and Madonna was captivated by the funky sounds emanating from boom-boxes all over town. She started writing material in that vein, but the band and her manager hated it. “They weren’t used to that kind of stuff, and I’d agreed with my manager to do rock, but my heart wasn’t really in it.” She would rehearse rock & roll with her band, then stay behind with Bray and record funkier stuff. There were fights, arguments, the band was pissed off. She’d come so far; how could she turn back now? But … “I finally said, ‘Forget it, I can’t do this anymore. I’m going to have to start all over.'” And so she did, with the loyal Bray once more at her side. During the day, she and Bray would write songs; at night, she’d hit the clubs: Friday night at the Roxy; other nights at Danceteria, the offical home for white hipsters with itchy feet and a sense of humor. It was fun, sure, but it was also a way to press the flesh, to work the room, to bounce up into the deejay’s booth, lay a cozy rap on him and slap a tape into his hand. At Danceteria, she caught the eye of Mark Kamins, a widely respected club deejay with ties to record companies. “She was one of my dancers, you could say,” says Kamins. “There was a crowd out there that came every Saturday night to dance.” Did he know she had other ambitions? “Hey, everybody does at a nightclub, but she was special.” He was impressed enough with what he saw to hit on the young woman now and then. She gave him a copy of her vaunted funk demo, a recording she and Bray had made that included a song called “Everybody.” “I was flirting with him,” she admits. Kamins and she started dating. He listened to the record and liked it. He put the song on at the club – just a four-track demo! – and people danced to it. He went into the studio with her and produced an improved version. And he went to Sire Records and single-handedly got her signed to a deal. Bray was jubilant – at last he’d get to produce Madonna for real. What he didn’t know was that Madonna had promised Kamins that in exchange for his work on her behalf he would get to produce her debut album. Executives at Sire and its parent company, Warner Bros., had already given their okay. Madonna, however, had a surprise for them both. Neither Kamins nor Bray would be producing Madonna. The job instead fell to former Stephanie Mills producer Reggie Lucas. Why? “I was really scared,” she says. “I thought I had been given a golden egg. In my mind, I thought, ‘Okay, Mark can produce the album and Steve can play the instruments.’ Uh-uh – Steve wanted to produce. “It was really awful, but I just didn’t trust him enough.” The pair had a bitter falling out. “Steve didn’t believe in the ethics of the situation.” “It was very hard to accept,” he says today. And what about Kamins? “Similarly, I didn’t think that Mark was ready to do a whole album.” Kamins got the word, not from the woman who had promised him, but from Sire. “Sure, I was hurt,” he says gruffly. “But I still had a royalty coming from the record.” Madonna was still performing, but not with a band. Instead she’d hop onstage at dance clubs and sing to backing tracks or lip-sync, enlivening her performances with the sort of lusty dancing that has now become her trademark. That’s where Lucas – unaware of the intrigue that had preceded him – first saw his newest act. “I wanted to push her in a pop direction,” he recalls. “She was a little more oriented toward the disco thing, but I thought she had appeal to a general market. It’s funny about that thing with Kamins. The same thing that happened to him pretty much happened to me on her second record, when they had Nile Rodgers.” And the rest was history, though it was a history that was a long time in the making. The LP’s first single. “Holiday,” was not an immediate success, but Madonna was content. “All I said was, ‘I know this record is good, and one of these days Warner Bros. and the rest of them are going to figure it out.'” It’s likely that her videos were the breakthrough, as Madonna perfectly merged her dance training with her knowledge of the randier things in life. How did she manage to put across such seething sexuality where so many have tried and failed? “I think that has to do with them not being in touch with that aspect of their personality. They say, ‘Well, I have to do a video now, and a pop star has to come on sexually, so how do I do that?’ instead of being in touch with that part of their self to begin with. I’ve been in touch with that aspect of my personality since I was five.” Keeping her in touch with that side of her personality off the set these days is master mixer John “Jellybean” Benitez. The pair met during one of Madonna’s stints at the Fun House, the disco where Jellybean first earned his reputation. They have stayed together for the past year and a half, but Madonna flinches at the suggestion that this is her most stable relationship. “Why does it seem like that?” she queries before giving a throaty laugh. “We’ve had our ups and downs, let’s not fool anybody.” Still, the relationship was serious enough for Madonna to bring him home and meet her parents. Why has Jellybean held on where so many have fallen by the wayside? Would you believe ambition? “We both started to move at the same pace,” says Jellybean. “My career has exploded within the industry, and hers has exploded on a consumer basis. We’re both very career oriented, very goal oriented.” Which may mean that the relationship is safe . . . at least for the time being. Our dinner is finished. Along the way, Madonna has coolly sussed out the room for us: Yes, that’s Rudolf of Danceteria in the corner with his girlfriend, Diane Brill. You know, she usually seems like she’s strapped in her clothes, don’t you think? Madonna’s been all but unnoticed, but that’s okay. In your hometown, coolness is its own reward. Elsewhere her influence is becoming pervasive. The Madonna clones are ratting their hair, putting on rosaries and baring their bellies from coast to coast. It is an indication of the peculiar state of pop stardom these days that Madonna has gotten only the most fleeting glimpses of her own fame. She hasn’t toured – won’t, in fact, until next year – hasn’t performed live in a long time. She hasn’t even left New York a lot. She can count on one hand the numbers of times she’s been mobbed. For now, the buzz of recognition is still easily dealt with, even on a trip uptown to Danceteria. “It’s like going back to my high school,” she coos in the cab, and her arrival does bring out that exact mix of admiration, excess cordiality and what-are-you-doing-here puzzlement. She gets a hug from graffiti artist Keith Haring and is kissed on the mouth by a nearly endless series of hepcats. (“Gotta be careful who you kiss on the mouth these days,” she says, wiping her lips.) There’s no gawking, no crush of unknowns, no autographs requested, but her presence clearly delights everyone else who’s there. She’s an unqualified success. But did she exploit people to get there? “I think that a lot of people do feel exploited by her,” says Dan Gilroy. “But then again everyone’s got so many expectations about a relationship with her. She’s very intense immediately with somebody, very friendly. Perhaps people feel, ‘This is what our relationship is about,’ and then if there is any cooling of that, it’s taken to be a rejection.” And what’s the final tally? In addition to reaping a chunk of royalties from Madonna and for the one song he produced on it, Mark Kamins says that his affiliation with her has given his career a shot in the arm. Reggie Lucas is inundated with projects. Steve Bray eventually patched it up with Madonna – “the relationship’s too old to have something like that stand in its way” – and shares writing credit with her on four of her new album’s songs. And Dan and Ed Gilroy of the Breakfast Club (whose first LP is due early next year) were able to find a new drummer to replace Madonna: Steve Bray, who has the final word on those whom Madonna has touched. “Exploited? People say that, but that’s resentment of someone who’s got the drive. It seems like you’re leaving people behind or you’re stepping on them, and the fact is that you’re moving and they’re not. She doesn’t try to be that polite. She doesn’t care if she ruffles someone’s feathers.” True, Madonna? She smiles. “C’est vrai.”