#august baby I’m BEGGING u to stop talking about day like he’s not sitting right there hearing every word coming out of your mouth PLEASE

[butterflyeffectiooon]

Ok not to keep harping on august but I think another problem is he just doesn’t know day at all, which isn’t ENTIRELY his fault bc of the whole day ghosting him for a year deal but like. He wanted to make day happy by throwing him a birthday party but not only did not even attempt to make space for mhok to be present in it at all like he told him to go home!!! If he knew anything about day he would understand how important mhok is to him and yes, EVEN THO day would never verbally admit to it bc he’s a brat (I love him with my whole heart) if he had more observation skills than a goldfish (nice last twilight reference) it would become abundantly clear to him how much day is relying on mhok. like the emotional intelligence is just not there. And when they go running? He takes day and literally leaves mhok in the dust without regard for either day or mhok’s feelings on the matter and he’s been doing that since the first time they met again after day started going blind! He literally physically takes day away from his caregiver and I guess he did ask mhok’s permission but GIRL day is right there why aren’t you asking HIM!!!!! He doesn’t know day and doesn’t only not try to know him but he barely even acknowledges him most of the time?? Talking to mhok like he’s not even there??? I’m trying so hard to understand this kid and his motives and it’s just NOT coming together in my head

[minimickzy]

Yeah, Cool || Richie Tozier

Request: Hi can I get a Richie imagine? Kinda based of the song My Kind of Woman by Mac demarco. Where he’s so surprised that no matter what you’ve always stuck by him. No matter how many jokes he masked about you, offensive or perverted, you always know he’s joking. And he’s just in awe cause of how strong you are and YOU choose HIM to stick with through everything. He just utterly adores you and he doesn’t realize you adore him to until he realizes how long you’ve stuck by him. Thanks! Love your blog💛

 +Hi okay so could you do a Richie x Reader where He likes the reader but the losers say that she's to innocent and completely opposite of him but goes for it anyway and him and the reader end up having a happily ever after?

Characters: Reader x Richie Tozier, the losers club 

Word count: 2924

Warning: swearing, mentioned underage drinking, kissing (ew!)

a/n: This is a weird style that I tend to write in, I don't know if y’all are gonna like it so please let me know. this is also extremely long. please let me know what you think! also let me know if you want to be added to any tag lists!

Oh baby, oh man

You're making my crazy, really driving me mad

Summer 1988

From the second Richie saw you he knew you were meant to be. Richie wasn’t one to be sappy but when it came to you his heart melted in his chest and his head spun around with thoughts of you.

You moved to Derry in the summer before junior year. Your mom picked everything up and brought the family to this small shitty town. There was nearly nothing to do here. You’d go on walks looking for something, anything to preoccupy yourself with, but your searches went on and on.

You didn't notice the group of kids that would follow you around every day. The losers club was intrigued by you. They never saw you talk to anyone, you’d just walk around and look at the world around you. They all had the filling that you were one of them. Every few days you’d go to the park and sit against the sand pipe and read a book.

There was a boy who always seemed to be hanging around with binoculars and a little book. He seemed to be birdwatching but you never thought of a boy his age being into such a adult thing.

One day, after a rainy night you decided to sit on the bench instead of the mushy ground. It was a quiet day, near the end of august, a gentle breeze blew your hair against your cheeks as you engulfed your mind in your book.   

You nearly jumped out of your skin when someone sat down at the other side of the bench. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” You saw the bird boy looking at you with a apologetic but slightly annoyed look, after all you were in his spot. “Oh, It's no trouble, sorry for taking your spot, the ground was just… dirty.”

“It's fine.” He turned away from you and to the bird fountain. You went back to reading your book but couldn't help but feel the awkward tension rising in the silence. “I’m (y/n), I just moved here a month ago or something.” You put your hand out for him, He turned back you and gave your hand a tense shake, “I’m Stan. I’ve seen you around alot.” 

“yeah, I’ve just been looking for something to do.” He nodded, “Well, maybe you could come to the Barrens later, its where me and my friends hang out.” You smiled, “yeah, that sounds cool. You're the first person I’ve talked to here.” he laughed, “that's Derry for you. Do you have a bike?” You shook your head. “I guess I can give you a ride on my handlebars.” He started to get up, you stayed sitting not really sure if you should follow until he turned around a few yards away and looked at you expectantly, “coming?” “Oh, yeah! Sorry.” You stood up and rushed to join him.

That's alright with me, it's really no fuss

As long as you're next to me, just the two of us

Spring 1989

Richie had fucked up and he knew that. His trashmouth had gotten both the losers pissed at him and his parents to kick him out. It wasn't on purpose. He didn't tell anyone but he had a run in with Bowers on the way to school. He was to embarrassed to say anything and His blood with boiling from how weak he felt after what had happened. He wasn't sure if the losers had told you what happened, or what you would think of him if they did. Spring was here and Junior year was coming to a end.

He didn't bother to come up with a story to tell, he just walked up to your door and knocked, your parents car wasn't there but the lights were on so he knew you must be home. When you opened the door your eyes widened with shock at the sight in front of you. “Richie..” He looked so broken. His eyes were red and puffy, magnified by his coke bottle glasses. The goofy grin that was nearly always plastered on his face was gone and his body was trembling in the cool night air.

“I really fucked up.” You nodded, “yeah, Stan told me. Listen, I don’t thin-” “They kicked me out.” “what?” “My par-parents, they kicked me out.” He sniffed and you thought your heart may as well have just fallen on the ground in front of him. “Why?” “I said something and my dad, he just-” Richie couldn’t get the rest out, instead breaking down on your poach, his head held in his hands as the tears slipped from his eyes and splashed onto his glasses. You didn't waste any time to hug him. He was shaking. You held him as tight as you could, you whispered soft words into his ear and let him nuzzle his curly hair into you neck.

You're my, my, my, my kind of woman

My, oh my, what a girl

Summer 1989 

It took the loud honk of a horn to knock Richie out of his tance. You laughed as he swore under his breath and pressed his foot down on the gas pedal sending the car forward. Richie had been staring at you, taking the chance as you were looking out the window of his beat up car on the way to pick up Eddie and then meet up with the rest of the losers. A year later and you still didn't have a bike. He didn't know the reason was because then he��d have to give you ride.

Richie and Mike were the only ones with cars, you lived down the street from him and Eddie lived 5 minutes from there and then everyone else lived on the other side of town by Mike who would pick them up in the back of his old pickup he got from his dad.

When Richie pulled up to Eddie’s sidewalk the boy who wasn't much bigger than when you had first met him came beelining out of the front door. He hopped in the back and took a puff of his inhaler, sure enough his mom came out right after and started to yell something but Richie pulled away before you could hear any of it. “What was up her ass Ed’s?” Richie asked, Eddie groaned in return, “She said I had a cold or something because I sneezed, and how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that.”

You laughed lightly and placed your hand on Richies on top the stick shift. His stomach did flips and his brain went just a little fuzzy. You didn't take it away until he parked outside of the movie house where everyone was waiting. Eddie jumped out and then you but Richie didn't move a muscle. “Richie?” you asked leaning down so you could see him, “You coming?” “mhm, I just- need a second.” “are you okay?” “yeah, I'll be right in.” “cool.” “yeah, cool.”

You're my, my, my, my kind of woman

Summer 1988

Stan pulled up to the barrens and let you hope off of his handlebars, there was only another boy and girl there already, sitting on to rocks with there hands interlocked. “Thats Bill and Beverly” he pointed before they saw you. You nodded and your nerves started to get the best of you. What if the only people you talked to in Derry didn't even like you? Stan started walking towards them and they both smiled and waved to him. The girl, Beverly, was the first to notice you, taking a double take and then elbowing Bill who stood up immediately.   

“This is (y/n), I said it was cool if she'd hang with us.” San introduced you as you gave a little nod. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” Bill smiled and stuck a hand out to shake, “you t-too.” You smiled back and shook his hand.

Bill and Beverly told you about the losers club and how they’d been seeing you around town. “We Thou-thought you m-m-meant be one of u-us.” Bill said and you laughed, “A loser?” Beverly shrugged, “It's not too bad.” You nodded, “so who else is in it?” Bills face brightened up again as he started to tell you about each member in the group, “Well the-there's Mike who...

And I'm down on my hands and knees

Begging you please, baby, show me your world

Fall 1988

“What a babe.” Richie fawned over you as you walked away. The rest of the losers laughed or sighed at the pathic doe eyes Richie wore whenever he looked at you.

You were the innocent of the group, Richie was not. Every sentence that he said included swears but one had hardly ever touched your lips. He wore black and punk band tees and you wore pastels and sweaters. He used to call you Betty Cooper when you first started hanging out with the losers as a joke and you’d always call him Jughead in return. You always chuckled at his jokes even if you didn’t get it which was most of the time. It was just the giddiness and rush you got whenever you were around him that really got the laughs going.

“Richie, she’s so out of your league.” Eddie deadpanned patting Him on the back. “And whys that?” Richie asked in a pissy tone. “B-b-because she’s innocent R-Richie, and your N-not.” Bill said, “Yeah, and she's smart and attractive. Two more things you lack.” Stan smirked. Richie huffed and stood up from the rock he had been sitting on. “That's bullshit.” They all looked at him with scartic looks. “I can tone it down.” “yeah right.” Eddie laughed, Richie furrowed his eyebrows and started to walk away.

“I’ll show you fuckers!” He started his way to you house jogging in order to catch up to you, “Hey (y/n)! Wait up!” he yelled down the street causing you to turn towards him. You shot him a sweet smile, “What’s up Richie?” He stopped to catch his breath and rubbed his hands off on his hawaii shirt. “I-I just wanted to ask you something.”  You cocked an eyebrow, “and you couldn't use a phone?”

He shrugged and played with the dirt on the ground with his foot, “What do you think of me?” He was no longer making eye contact with you which you were silently thankful for, “what?” His question had blindsided you. “Like, What do you think of my jokes and how I act or whatever.” “Oh, I think your great- I mean I really like your jokes and you glasses and your hair and and how you sometimes smile with only one side of your mouth and- Your really cool Rich.” You just needed to get yourself to shut up. “So you don’t mind my dirty jokes or swearing?” “No? Why?”

“I just thought they meant be much for you.” You laughed, “You could never be too much for me Tozier” He smiled brightly, “Cool.” “Yeah, cool.”

Oh brother, sweetheart

I'm feeling so tired really falling apart

And it just don't make sense to me

Spring 1989

You told Richie he could stay at your house as long as your parents didn't catch him. You gave him some food and he told you about Bowers, He told you about everything, His cheeks were a dark shade of red, you were the last person he wanted to know. But you understood, you didn't tell him but as soon as he fell asleep you called and told Bev everything and then she told everyone else, they all understood just as you had and Bill was going to talk to Richie at school.

Since the day you met Richie you felt connected with him. You hadn't thought twice about holding him as he cried or playing with his hair when he talked. You weren't going to deny you held a liking towards Richie, There was no question as to if you were head over heels for the boy.

You thought he was too but neither of you ever dared make a move. You told your parents you were sick in the morning and bought yourself a few more hours alone with Richie before you’d both go in for the later half of your classes. You gave him breakfast as soon as your parents left.

He didn't say much. He couldn't believe he had told you everything, the stuff that he even hid from the rest of the losers. As he ate you watched him from across the table eating your own breakfast. You found his leg with your foot under the table. “Richie?” He looked up to you, “yeah?” “Why’d you come to me? Why not Eddie or Stan? Why me?”

His eyes got a little wider and his cheeks burned a soft pink, “I- I guess, I trust you.” You smiled, “Really?” You started to take a sip from your water “yeah. I really do. Your so nice and I really love you.” You choked on your water and some of it sprayed out of your mouth, onto the table as you coughed. “I’m sorry- I just-” Richie said rushing to apologize as soon as he realized what his big mouth had said. “No, Richie- I love you- too- Don't be- sorry-” you said between coughs.

He smiled. “Cool.” You smirked “yeah, cool.”

I really don't know

Why you stick right next to me or wherever I go

Summer 1990 

“Richie this is ridiculous!” you yelled, he jumped back at your outburst. Richie and you had been a thing forever and respected it as dating behind closed doors. You wanted it to be official, you wanted to know you weren't going to lose him. Richie wanted the same thing, but as long as he had you he didn’t want to do anything to fuck that up. But you were fed up so when he met you at the barrens, just the two of you, you jumped right into it.

“What?” you groaned, “you have to let me know what we are, where is this going? I need to know Richie, I have to go to college and you, you have to go somewhere!” He frowned, “I’m going wherever you go.” “what?” he shrugged, “There's nowhere else I want to go.” You looked at him with  melow shock. You thought he just didn't want to commit, you didn't know in his head he already had.

“Oh. So we’re dating?” “That's what I thought, If you don't want me to-” “No! I mean no, that's what I want, If it's what you want!” the tension was high, “What if I want something more!” The two of you yelling a bit softer each time, “Then let's make it something more!” he stepped closer to you, “We’re 18!” you stepped closer to him, “yes!” He took your hands in his, “We could be engaged!” you nodded your head, “yes!” he gave you his goofy grin, “Is that a yes to 18 year olds can be engaged or me asking you to fucking marry me?” “both.” He kissed you sweetly “fuck” You kissed him, “shit.” “that's what I want.” “then that's what you get.” “Cool.” “yeah, cool.”

You're my, my, my, my kind of woman

My, oh my, what a girl

You're my, my, my, my kind of woman

Fall 1989 

The first the two of you kissed was at a party where you both had been a little tipsy. The only reason it didn't go further was Beverly busting in and freaking out. She didn't tell anyone, and neither did you or Richie.

But Richie couldn’t live with just a taste of the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and who he’d been drooling over for more than a year. He tried desperately to get you to kiss him again, but the time was never right. One day Richie Tozier had enough, He was driving you home from a meetup with the losers, the windows were open and the radio blasting. Everyone had went out to Castle Rock for a carnival but the rest of the losers decided to stay after you and Rich left.

You laughed at something he said and when that sweet sound touched his ears he quickly turned off the road and onto the shoulder. “Richie? Whats up?” “I need to kiss you.” he said it so calmly it almost frightened you. “What?” “I’ve liked you since the day you moved here and at the party it was like a dream and I need to kiss you.”

You shrugged, “Okay.” “really?” “yes.” “oh my fuck, I didn't actu- fuck. Okay.” “are you going to or…” He nodded and turned quickly, capturing your lips with his. You couldn't help but smile as you pulled away. He smiled and turned back onto the road. “cool.” You laughed, “yeah, cool.”

And I'm down on my hands and knees

Begging you please, baby, show me your world

Summer 1987

“...Yeah, he g-go-goes on about b-b-being sick but hes st-still cool, and then th-theres R-Richie-” “Thats my name don't wear it out Big Bill.” you heard someone laugh from behind you. You turned to see two boys, one with Red shorts who was smaller and then a tall boy with wild curly black hair, thick glasses and a devilish grin. “He’s Well, Ri-Richie.” Bill shrugged as the boys joined the small circle.

“Whos the babe?” Riche laughed and you chuckled slightly, “I’m (y/n), I’m new around here.” He smirked, “cool.” “Yeah, cool.”

tag list 

@thekidsofneibolt

@mcheung0314

[bangtanboyzinluv]

BTS Sex Music/Sex Headcanons

Basically, songs that make me think about how BTS would be in bed, plus some halfway smut... Song titles are links!

Seokjin/Jin = Bed/J. Holiday. 

Staring at you while you sleep/irreplaceable beauty/put my face up in your neck and breathe/Take you into my senses, wake up, it's time to finish/Round two, round two/Matter of fact, it's closer to three.

Jin would be an incredibly appreciative, thorough, passionate lover. He is grateful to sleep in your bed, and he wants to love you right. If it takes three rounds for him to feel like you’re satisfied, that’s how many he’ll give you (but he wants you to get your rest, so you get catnaps in between). Really into kissing, deep and hard and your lips are going to be so swollen. Jin is the lover who’s going to bring you water afterward and kiss your forehead. You probably won’t end up with any marks (although he won’t mind if you give him some), but when Jin is done with you, your knees will feel like spaghetti and you’ll think you’re going to die if he touches you again.

Yoongi/Suga = Lazy Love/Ne-Yo. 

Reminiscing on last night/Wake up and let me get it one more time before/I gotta go I got responsibilities I gotta take care of/That's when you wrap them legs around me, and I fall victim to that lazy love. 

The stereotype is that Yoongi is lazy, of course... but maybe there’s a very good reason he doesn’t want to leave the bed. Yoongi wakes up, and while he’s still sort of between asleep and awake, he sees you next to him and wants you all over again. He knows he has things to do that day, but would it really be so bad to put them off by a few hours? He’d wake you up kissing your neck until you swat at him because that tickles. Slow, intense, daylight-through-the-blinds sex, with him lacing his fingers with yours above your head. Lots of eye contact. He’d sort of smile dreamily at the ceiling afterward, like he already knows it’s going to be a good day.

Hoseok/J-Hope = Cater 2 U/Destiny’s Child. 

Baby I'm happy you're home, let me hold you in my arms/I just wanna take the stress away from you/Making sure that I'm doing my part/Boy is there something you need me to do?/If you want it, I got it

Hoseok would come home incredibly tired, having just practiced the same routine ten more times after everyone else has left. The way to his heart is to nurture him-- greet him at the door, run him a bath, talk to him while he gets clean, feed him. When he felt human again, he’d want to thank you for taking such good care of him. Hoseok would let you sit on the bathroom counter and get on his knees, let you touch his hair and know he’s home listening to your sounds. When you’d come at least once, he’d stand up and take you right there, hand behind your head so you don’t break the mirror, your legs crossed behind his back. You made him your priority, so he’d want to make you his.

Namjoon/Rap Monster = Kissin on My Tattoos/August Alsina. 

'Cause you're so beautiful, God made you to show that off/Now I ain't ever been the jealous type of guy, but I want you to myself, I can't lie.../I don’t want nobody but you kissing on my tattoos.

When you’re in bed with Namjoon, you are literally the only person in the world. Phone rings? Not answering it. Knock at the door? They can come back later. He’s only stopping if you ask him to or if the building catches fire. He’d really, really like when you suck him off-- he’s the kind of guy that would cradle your jaw and set the pace for you. Would press himself up against you while you’re on your stomach for maximum skin contact, but would also bite into your shoulder and leave a teeth-shaped purple bruise so you don’t forget who you belong to. Anything he does, he does it hard, and every time you come, Namjoon counts it as a personal achievement.

Taehyung/V = Partition/Beyonce. 

Took 45 minutes to get all dressed up, we ain't even gonna make it to this club/Now my mascara running, red lipstick smudged

Tae would be especially down for rolling around in the back of the limo, once everyone’s out, of course (he isn’t so badly behaved as to make the driver listen to your activities). He’d think you looked so hot in your going-out clothes that he would want to mess you up a little, just so no one else sees you looking that perfect. Tae knows you do still have to go inside eventually, so he’d just hike your skirt up, undo his zipper, and get to work. He’d try to go slowly and make you beg for it, but in the end he’s the type to fuck at inhuman speeds and make your eyes cross. Tae would be thoughtful enough to bring along your makeup bag, so you can clean up, but he’d also confiscate your panties for himself...

Jimin = Ride/SoMo. 

Everybody wonders where we've run off to/my body on your body, baby, stickin' like some glue/Naughty, let's get naughty, girl, it's only one or two/Fever's fucking running, feel the heat between us two

Doesn’t matter what you’re doing, where you are, or how little time you have. Jimin might grab your wrist and drag you off to the nearest vacant space, or he might send you a text telling you where to meet him, but he has a one-track mind when it comes to sex. Would love to have you standing up with one leg hitched up over his shoulder (you don’t even need to be that flexible, an advantage to his height). Jimin would start out fast and keep that pace, going deep and whispering about how good you’re making him feel and how bad he wants to feel you come around him. He’s fucked you in every room of the house and a whole lot of places outside of it.

Jungkook = Neighbors Know My Name/Trey Songz. 

Girl, your legs keep shaking and I swear we breaking our new headboard/And the love we make, it feels so good, girl, you know I'm proud/Looking at your lovely face, scream my name, you do it so loud.

Jungkook wants to hear you, and he wants to make sure you know exactly who’s getting you off. He’d be the type to keep sex in the bedroom, but once you’re in there, you’re in for it. He’d go as hard as he could, really use those muscles and make you feel it for days. Jungkook wants to walk away with his back scratched up, and he wants your throat sore from screaming for him. “Who is it that’s making you come? Tell me again. Say it one more time.” You might actually just have to get a bed without a headboard, or you’re going to crack the sheetrock on the wall. Jungkook would also be very on top of aftercare-- since you can’t walk, he’s going to get you whatever you need and probably be a little apologetic about the wreck he made of you.

[atlaswriting]

I’ve found god in a lot of things: in the bathroom tile marks left on my knees, the cool of the porcelain pressed soft to my cheek, at the bottom of a bottle of wine I had no business finishing.

I’ve found god, I’ve prayed and I’ve been ignored.

But Abram’s never been a place for holy. He isn’t consecrated ground and I’m not a believer.

I am thankful for every moment his lips are pressed against mine; a silent rebellion, an act of sinning so great that I could bathe in holy water and still burst into flames stepping into church.

Any smart reply is bitten back and choked as his hand tangles in my hair and kisses me. I bite, deliberately at his lip until he inhales sharply and pulls away feeling for the blood that starts to bead. With a quick turn, I’m facing up, hips still pinned to the cushion by his, eyes drinking in his entirety: loose shorts, no shirt—tan skin punctuated with black ink, I think : where has my boy gone? Dead and buried by this man on top of me.

I don’t hate it.

I can’t reach up, grab the shirt he isn’t wearing so I decide on the next best thing : the waistline of his shorts, until he’s close enough and I can dig my long nails into his shoulders and pull him back. He tastes like fire and everything I shouldn’t like—the air before a tornado, thick and lingering—I breathe in him, kiss him deep and find comfort in the familiar copper of blood.

Abram is no less gentle—fingertips digging into my hips, releasing only to slide beneath my shirt. This isn’t love, I think, this is familiarity. It is the heroin and the syringe. But I don’t stop, legs clench tighter around his waist and I push my hips up.

“Wait.” The word comes out as a whine and immediately he stops, blue eyes staring down at me: all man, but animal too. Something vicious and appealing lingers there and he pulls back.

I slide out from under him and Abram sits up on the couch, shifting uncomfortably. I take a breath, trying to calm the swarming bees in my chest that beg to be let out.

This is fucked, I want to say. We’re better people now—better people don’t do this.

Logic and reason get into the ring with need and only one comes out.

A heartbeat passes, a fork in the road where instead of deciding which way to go, I hurdle through like a comet. And like one, I throw my body on top of his, settling into his lap like a puzzle piece.

Like coming home.

I run my hands through his hair, a crown of gold that sits at the top of his head and I tell myself—he’s a king now, but he’s been by prince for over a decade.

Desperation pushes me closer against him, presses my mouth to his and kiss him with a careless desire. My teeth bite at his bottom lip, more feral than girl—but I’ve always been wild.

One of Abram’s hands dips into the hem of my shorts and his other slides up my body, circles around my throat and unlatches my mouth from his. My mouth falls open in silence, and despite the raw wrongness of it all: he doesn’t tear his eyes away from mine. Brows set in a straight line, he controls me like a puppet—bringing my neck to his mouth he bites and sucks at the skin.

Tomorrow is a day that doesn’t exist right now and consequence sits laughing from the sidelines.

The only thing that jars me from the moment is the soft jangling of Alfred’s collar. I toss a glance over my shoulders and then do I notice him on top of Belle.

I all but fall off of Abram, scrambling to my feet and rushing toward the dogs.

“Oh my god!” I shout, pulling him away by his collar, “Alfred! Abram! Oh my god!”

With the more space between us, it gives guilt a chance to wrap herself around me, warm and sharp and I rush to the bathroom, tonight’s dinner and the bottles of wine fight for first in the toilet. After I wash my mouth out I come back into the living room.

“I think you should go.” I say, reaching for Alfred’s collar once again. Tears burn my eyes, “this was a mistake. None of this should have happened. I’m sorry Ellie worried you enough to come over. Thank you for making sure I didn’t get murdered—but we’re,” I gesture to Alfred and I, “going to bed now.”

“Elise…”

“Please—just go.” I beg.

/ / / / /

( texts : abram )

Can we talk about this?

Elise?

Please.

I see you sitting in your backyard with your phone.

That’s not creepy at all.

Don’t do that.

Don’t put up the bitch guard again.

Oh okay, I’m a bitch.

Wtf.

Not what I said.

Don’t worry. Stassi won’t ever know.

You can go back to being Ken and Barbie.

That’s not what I… Can we talk.

There’s nothing to talk about.

/ / / / /

“So what’s his name?”

A wide smile splits Ellie’s face in half. She pulls out her phone and clicks on his instagram. @stefvasilev.

“He’s a King?” I grab the phone and go through the pictures. Most are selfies with over-saturated filters, some are of his alcohol collection and others are various pictures with other teammates. “Are you insane? Are you trying to drive Brody insane? ‘Cause beep beep.”

Ellie reaches and snatches her phone back, “I didn’t show you so that you could judge me,” she says bitterly. “It wasn’t like I planned it—okay, I did. I just wanted to make Brody jealous. At first. But then I actually started to like him.” She looks down at her phone and smiles then lays it face down. “Which he was fine with.”

I can feel my brow arch higher than usual, “I don’t know—how well do you know him?” I ask, “this could get really messy with Bri, Brody and Abram.”

She rolls her eyes and stands up, walking into my kitchen and looking through my refrigerator. “I’m sorry, do I need to go through my baby daddy and best friend when it comes to getting laid?” She asks, “Brody didn’t ask me before he started dating she-who-must-not-be-named and hasn’t stopped dating her despite the fact that she’s the embodiment of evil.” Ellie pouts when everything she finds is either organic, vegan or expired. “You need real food.”

“I just don’t want it to cause any fights. The last thing they need next season is to start an all out brawl in the middle of the ice for your hand.”

Ellie plops back down beside me, phone out and ordering a pizza. “Brody is never going to fight over me, he doesn’t love me anymore. Not with that leech brainwashing him.” Sitting up slowly, Ellie opens her mouth to say something but then shuts it. Suddenly her eyes go wide and she jumps nearly on top of me. “What is that and how did I not notice it before?”

My hand goes up to my neck and rubs, “It was… a parting gift from Laney.”

“Bullshit that girl couldn’t bruise an apple. You expect me to believe she ate half your neck?”

“It was Delaney, Ellie!”

“You’re such a bold face liar. I can’t believe it. You may wanna get down off your high horse there, Elise. You’re gonna fall off.” She grins at me and I push her away from me. “It’s fine, I don’t judge you.”

/ / / / /

“Simon, you don’t have to invite Abram to family dinner—he isn’t family.” I whisper harshly, I keep my voice low, peak into the living room where Abram is playing with Auguste on the floor and Stassi is showing   Anais’ pictures of Nashville. “You should just kick him out. Right now—tell him—,”

“Elise calm down,” he says, still focused on the pans and not burning anything. “Abram is family and you’re going to have to deal with that.”

I roll my eyes, a sharp knock at the door doesn’t pull my glare from my dad, “He stopped being family the day he left me.” My voice breaks unwillingly and a moment of regret crosses over Simon’s face. It quickly turns into horror as Cerise is let in by Anais.

“Maman?” I bring my glass of water to my lips, suddenly wishing it had been something a little stronger. “What are you doing here?”

She ignores the other’s in the living room, moves her eyes over Abram like he doesn’t exist and kisses both of my cheeks. “I can’t drop in and see my daughter and my nephew?”

“Not in my house.” Simon’s jaws tenses.

“Simon.” Says Anais softly.

When the shock settles and we’re all sitting at dinner, I almost feel bad for Stassi who is sitting closest to Cerise. I watch her, like a cat toying with a helpless mouse, as she controls the conversation with Stassi whose cheeks are bright red.

“I’ve been trying to get Abram to come to Nashville with me while he has his little break,” she says, “But he’s so difficult sometimes.” She laughs, nudges her elbow into his arm.

“Abram used to fly with me all the time.” I say, deciding then that alcohol was the only way I was going to get through the night and over-pouring myself a glass, “A lot of things about Abram are harder now.” I add, not able to control the bitterness that sneaks out.