#going to have the world's most fucked up yard sale later

[ayearofgoodfate]

i’m staying awake making sure my roommate doesn’t start showing od symptoms. we tend to take things too far. i have my hell day later and it’s all i can do not to fall asleep but i miss my parents house even though they didn’t always know how to be parents and i miss my little brother and sister and my dog and my bookshelf and the wall i would tape up magazine articles and photos to whenever i got sad. and i think that college fucks you up a little bit. there is so much love here. there’s also so much trauma.

when i was about nine my dad decided that he and i were going to read every single book in the middle grade section of the library. my dad had a lot of passion and not a lot of ways to harness it so every saturday he would drive me to the library and he had this old grey car that he could never tame enough to follow the speed limit. and we’d just spend hours there. my dad never talked to me a lot, we never had conversations that weren’t in a group setting. he never told me things or asked me questions but i was a talker so he learned what would work to work around that. he read to me. he’d always read to me. we’d knock out a book or two in the library, literally just sitting there for four hours straight on the old blue carpet while he’d make up voices for the characters, then we’d take about twelve more books home for the week. I’d read most of them on my own, but we’d go through one or two together throughout the week before bed. when we left the library he’d always buy girl scout cookies in quarters from whoever was outside the library selling. we’d eat the whole box. dad never made it feel like we had less than. he never ever told me that we were as poor as we were. he has done a lot of things but i will love him for that forever. i will always defend my dad.

we stopped reading together after a while. he got tired or i got old and he’d joined the church and my siblings weren’t babies and suddenly there were littler kids that needed reading time too. we didn’t finish the entire middle grade section of the library. i don’t think we even made it halfway. i don’t think dad has gone to the library since. the last book we read, we didn’t finish, and i was a bitch about it. it was this big collection of science fiction short stories and the girls in my class had been telling me that stuff was for boys and i simply wasn’t having it. dad wouldn’t have that. every book is every book, so we trudged.

i got really sick that fall. i slept for days straight. my parents couldn’t afford doctors and probably wouldn’t have taken me anyway but dad was really good at taking care of sick people. he’d sit there and watch me breathe and make me mac and cheese and read to me and i’d be half asleep. this one story was about solipsism. i was delirious, drifting in and out of his voice, letting the idea of me being the only real person in the world marinate in my mind. i woke up three days later like i’d never been sick. i needed to read that story again because i needed to know it existed because, mainly, i needed to know that dad did and mom did and baby sister and brother and my friends and the book was gone.

i looked for it for years in different libraries. big. silver. i resigned myself to the fact that it was a fever dream and then like magic it popped up on the library shelves again. i took it out and renewed it for months on end and drew in it with the invisible ink pen I stole from office depot’s back to school sale. i marked it with my name and annotated it with notes on how dad read it when i was little and it was mine until it was overdue. years later i bought a used copy i found at a yard sale. annotated. i play around in my mind with the idea of trading the books out, as if i still live in a place where i could. the point is, it’s real. we’re real. dad was real, our library trips that had been half forgotten were real, and isn’t it nice to feel real and to know everything else is too?

I miss dad. my roommate’s breathing heavy and in a few hours she will wake up sick. between my classes i’ll raid my drawers and wallet for enough coins to run to cvs and buy her some mac and cheese because that’s what we both crave when we’re not doing too good. i will never tell her i paid for it in coins and i’ll never tell her i stayed up to make sure she’d be okay. we’re a lot alike and so i’m not even mad at her for what she did tonight. she just wanted to know she was real. she is my best friend and she has a lot of passion. i take to people like that, latch onto them like a leech because i was taught to feel deeply and anyone who doesn’t i seem to repel. i will go to class and not fall asleep, and i’ll wear cute clothes and there will be circles under my eyes and no part of me will match but that’s how i am and i can’t ever in good faith tell anyone why. i play around with calling dad a lot. I look at his contact but i can’t bring myself to hear the silence. i think that’s why i went to book school in the first place. i think it’s why i’m writing this.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨2

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Thank you for your positive response to this one! I hope you enjoy what I have in store.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Your Spotify list of redundant tracks flowed through the apartment as you sat typing at your small desk in the corner of the front room. The boxy space was as oppressive as any office space, another reason for your voluntary work at the gallery. Vanessa let you in the studio to paint. Without the privilege, you wouldn’t have the space for your easel.

You stretched your fingers and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy from staring at the screen, even with night mode on. The work was monotonous and made you restless. You wanted a pencil or brush in hand, a canvas before you, not this blaring laptop. You yawned and took a sip of your lukewarm water.

Your phone vibrated from across the room and you checked the time. Your lunch started soon but no one was really keeping track. As long as you got your assignments done, it didn’t matter when you chewed on toast and disassociated.

You got up and grabbed your phone from the corner table and leaned against the arm of the couch. You remembered how Marcus woke up there and grumbled as he lifted his head in pain. You couldn’t really feel bad for him going into work hungover. He embarrassed you and it didn’t quite sink in until after Clark left you to stare down at your drunk boyfriend.

An unknown number showed on your screen and you answered tentatively, ready to hang up at the first sales pitch. Your name came from the speaker and you recognized the deep voice in an instant. It took you back to the night before and the canvas hung on the wall.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Clark said, “I only just had the paintings hung and I thought… well, I thought you might like to come see them in their new home.”

“Um…” you chewed your thumb, uncertain how to respond.

“Sorry, I know I can be a bit… to the point,” he laughed at himself, “how are you?”

“I’m good, just… taking a break.”

“You working?”

“Yeah, but I work from home,” you said as you touched the side of your neck, “I could… I could come see them but it might be a while before--”

“When are you finished work?” he asked bluntly.

“Four but I… maybe another day.”

“I don’t mean to be pushy but I did have something else to speak with you about,” he said, “a commission, like I mentioned.”

“Oh?”

“I kinda wanna get it started sooner than later, it will probably be pretty time-consuming,” he explained and you heard a clink and a soft sip, “I don’t wanna get into details on the phone but I promise, you will be compensated nicely.”

“You can’t wait until tomorrow?” you wondered.

“I suppose I can but it’d have to be during the day,” he responded, “why don’t you take some time to figure it out and get back to me by two? You can text me through this number.”

“Erm, sure,” you said uneasily, “I’m sorry, it’s just… very sudden, I don’t--”

“You can bring the boyfriend,” he said casually, “if you like.”

“He won’t be… home,” you said carefully, “I’ll let you know. Thank you.”

“I look forward to hearing from you,” he replied, “have a good day.”

“You, too,” you said and the line died.

You put your phone down and took a moment. Good things rarely happened to you. You struggled so long it was hard to think that might change. The skeptic in you told you there was something behind it all. That it couldn’t possibly be your art.

You went back to your computer and sighed as you waved away the screensaver with your mouse. The blinking cursor made you want to believe it was your big break.

🎨

You texted Clark at one and at four, you were in an Uber. Marcus drove his car to work and you stuck to buses and the underground when you could. The address was at least an hour out, the house among those estates on the edge of the city reserved for the upper echelon. You’d only ever seen the sprawling yards on your way to the next town.

When the car finally turned up the drive and you passed beyond a low brick wall, you felt entirely out of your depth. You tipped the Uber but didn’t feel too bad with the check from Vanessa sitting soundly in your account. You clutched the strap of your bag and walked along the curve of the brick work towards the stairs.

“Hey,” you stopped as Clark called to you, your ankle still tender from the night before.

You glanced over as he came out of the large garage and peeled off a pair of leather gloves. He smiled as he tucked them into his jacket pocket. You watched him and played with the clasp on your bag.

“Just got back from a drive,” he said, “I almost got carried away. I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied.

“Well, come on, let me show you around,” he waved behind you towards the front doors, “we’ll go on a tour and then we can talk details.”

“Wow,” you uttered mindlessly as you climbed the stairs to the door but kept the weight on your uninjured ankle, “this place is huge.”

“My contractor went a little crazy,” he scoffed, “but I can’t complain.”

He led you through the doors and directed you to the left. In the front room, your work was hung along the opposite wall, arranged in a way that drew the eye to them. You stepped closer and peered up at your work with a hint of awe. They looked even better in a place like that.

“I had my interior designer make the final call on where to hang them,” he explained, “I hope you don’t mind, I gave her your details. She said she had clients who might be interested in your work.”

“Really?” you breathed, “that’s… too nice.”

“Oh yeah? One day, you’ll be sick of rich pricks like me,” he grinned, “I’ll show you the pool, that’s usually the main attraction.”

“Sounds good,” you said as you followed but he paused and watched your stunted gait.

“I forgot, we can go slow,” he offered, “how’s the ankle?”

“I’ll make do,” you affirmed as you neared him, “just need to get my steps in.”

🎨

As you finished the tour of the second floor, you slowed along the long hall and admired the work of artists you only ever saw in museums. You couldn’t help but be enamoured by the historic blots of paint. You almost forgot where you were as you leaned in to read the initials beneath the pastel flowers.

“So,” Clark’s voice brought you back, you almost blanked him out entirely in your mind, “I think you might have noticed the empty space above the fireplace in the front room. I was hoping you could fill it.”

“Oh?” you looked at him and smiled nervously, “did you have something in mind? A landscape or--”

“Well, your portraits are great. I like the old world style. I was hoping you might do one of… me,” he suggested, “I know, it’s vain but why not?”

“I mean, yeah, I could do that,” you said.

“I’ll pay hourly plus materials,” he continued, “three hundred an hour.”

You almost choked at the number. You blinked and swallowed through your surprise.

“Even a small portrait would take at least twelve hours,” you warned, “are you sure?”

“I know it’s a lot of time for you, so… I was thinking, if you have to miss work, I’ll factor it into your rate. I would really like to get the project started as soon as we can,” he put his hand on his hip as he looked down at you, “the only thing I need from you is a list of materials. I’ll have them waiting for you here.”

“Here?”

“Well, yeah, I figure it makes most sense,” he turned his palm out.

“Hmm, sure, I prefer my own brushes but… you know I can just buy the stuff myself--”

“Ah, no, I want it to be perfect. You send me a list and I’ll have my assistant go out and get it all ready,” he assured, “How does Sunday sound?”

“Sunday?” you blanched. That was two days away.

“Like I said, Marcus is more than welcome to come with you,” he offered, “I’d hate to keep you from him too long.”

“I guess Sunday works,” you squeaked, “I’ll talk to Marcus.”

“Great,” he said coolly, “well, that’s business. How about a drink to seal the deal?”

“I don’t know, I should probably get back,” you fiddled with your bag against your hip.

“One drink won’t hurt,” he said, “go on, call the boyfriend and let him know you won’t be much longer.”

“I… thanks,” you murmured.

“You’re humble for an artist,” he joked as he sidled by you, “once you grow an ego, you’ll be unstoppable.” He neared the stairs as you turned to watch him, “I’ll be at the bar, waiting. You like gin?”

“Sure,” you answered as you pulled out your phone, “I’ll see you down there.”

🎨

When you told Marcus about your new side gig, he was even more excited than you. You were anxious and slightly hesitant. You hated to jump in feet first and risk losing more than a few tubes of paint. What if the work wasn’t good enough?

Marcus was more than willing to come with you when you told him about the size of the place. He knew by the area that it was extravagant. You sat in the passenger seat with the most expensive bottle of wine you’d ever bought cradled between your legs. You hated to show up empty handed after all of Clark’s generosity.

Marcus got lost and went down the wrong driveway before you righted your course. As you drove up, you were once more overcome from the rich rosebuds and sparkling fountain at the centre of the mosaic. You gripped the neck of the bottle and got out as Marcus whistled in awe.

“You weren’t kidding. This place is fucking nuts,” he swore, “I should’ve worn the tux from my brother’s wedding.”

“Please, Marcus,” you rolled your eyes, “let’s both try not to break anything.”

“You’re the clumsy one,” he chirped, “shit, you’re so lucky. You get to hang out here and paint all day? God, I wish I had an ounce of artistic talent. I’d trade it for code in a minute.”

You climbed the steps and clanged the large knocker on the right door. You waited a moment before an answer came and Clark appeared on the other side and beckoned you inside. He smiled as he shook Marcus’ hand.

“Thanks for joining us,” he said, “I would’ve felt awful stealing your girlfriend on the weekend like this.”

“Are you kidding me? She said you had a pool and I snuck the swim shorts into the backseat,” Marcus chuckled and you nudged him with your elbow.

“See?” Clark arched a brow, “the pool is always the seller.”

“Here,” you said as you held out the bottle of red, “for everything you’ve done and welcoming us into your home.”

“Ohhh,” he took the bottle and looked over the label, “I got a spot for this right behind the bar. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I brought my brushes,” you patted the canvas bag on your shoulder.

“Mmm, yeah, well, I’ll just put this away and we’ll give Marcus the grand tour. Then I’ll get you situated,” he assured and rushed off.

He returned and pointed Marcus through to the front room, “you’ll see, just over here,” he directed him to your paintings.

“Oh, wow, babe,” Marcus marveled at the hung portraits, “you really did it.”

You smiled bashfully and Clark peeked over at you and winked. You squirmed as your cheeks burned and you turned away as he beckoned Marcus past the mantle.

“It’s a big place,” Clark said, “I’d like to get you started before noon.”

Clark led you along the same path as days before and slowed as you came back to the top of the stairs. He turned back and clapped his hands together.

“Marcus, if you wanna hop in the pool, we’re gonna start just in there,” he pointed to the one door you hadn’t looked through, “that’s the studio.”

“What about you?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I’ll be a part of the process so I’m afraid I will be just as busy but if you need anything, Nina, she has a crooked nose and mean mouth but don’t let her fool you, she’ll get you whatever you need,” he said, “just don’t track in water from the pool or she’ll string you up.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t sound too bad. Some alone time in the sun and a pool,” Marcus grinned, “I really couldn’t ask for anything else… except you, babe.”

“Sure,” you scoffed, “go, have fun.”

Marcus kissed you quickly and thanked Clark again before he excitedly barreled down the steps. You scratched your neck as you looked back to your host, and you guessed, your new boss.

“I’m sorry about him. He can be such a kid sometimes,” you said.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he waved it off, “so, you ready to see your workspace? I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Also, a bit last minute so it’s not perfect… yet.”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, “can’t wait.”

He motioned you over to the tall dusty rose doors and hooked his fingers in the slotted handles. He slid them open and revealed an airy room with a tall ceiling and long windows. An easel stood facing the sun streaked glass, an immense canvas bigger than yourself, bigger than him, propped up on it. There was a ladder nearby and the table was set with a rainbow of paints and a large pallet.

Your lips parted as you neared the easel and stared up at the canvas, “you were right, it’s gonna be a lot of work.”

“I hope it’s not too much,” he said, “but you name your price. We’ll make it work.”

“No, no, I think for what you’re paying, I’ll do just fine,” you put your bag down daintily on the table, “so, uh, a portrait, I guess that means…”

Your voice trailed off as he went to the upholstered chair across the room, at an angle so you could see him from your vantage. Behind it, hung a velvet curtain to add to the scene and a bust on a pedestal. It felt surreal, like a dream.

You turned and pulled out the brushes, “I think you’ll get more tired than me, just sitting there.”

“I’ll make it through,” he assured as he sat, “is there anyway you’d like me to sit? Chin up, or…”

“Hmmm,” you turned to look at him, “I think… if you just put your shoulders back and… did you want a profile or--”

“I was thinking front-facing,” he stared at you steadily, unflinching as his eyes stuck to you, “just like this.”

“Perfect,” you said nervously and looked back to the table. 

There was water to rinse your brushes, rags, pencils, blending sticks; everything you needed and more. You took a pencil from the bunch and pulled over the ladder. You climbed up and looked over at Clark as he sat stoic and still. He looked picturesque in real life, you expected paint would only lend to his figure.

His eyes met yours and you turned to start tracing the basic shapes onto the canvas. You had to stop and steady your hand as you did. His gaze made it hard not to tremble.

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer III

Part 06: Round And Round

series masterlist | previous part

summary: It seems like the stars have finally aligned to give Rafe Cameron and you a summer of blissful happiness.

a/n: This got a little longer than I expected but I'm not mad at it. I had to give them at least one summer of being cute together before the other shoe drops. The final part to this series will be out Thursday!

word count: 3.2k words (warning this gets decently smutty 18+)

The Island Club had a special glow to it as the sun sunk below the horizon and the thousands of fairy lights strung up around the yard flickered on. A breeze rippled through the warm summer air, making the perfect kind of weather. You took in the sight. The people mingling on the lawn, all dressed in their best clothing. Waiters dashing around, keeping everyone's drinks filled. Bits and pieces of conversations floated up into the night.

You'd finally settled on a long, black satin gown with a deep v-neck that’d you'd found hidden away on the sale rack. Your mother had fussed over how plain it was and how much skin it showed but you were sure it was the right dress from the moment you slipped it on. You'd agreed to let your mom twist your hair into a single braid that fell down your back and she’d stuck bobby-pins with tiny rhinestones in at random intervals. You had painted your lips a deep crimson red to pull it all together.

You were starting to understand the appeal of the whole thing. There was a certain feeling of glamour to the night. Your eyes roamed the lawn noticing Cleo and Milo snuggled close together on the dance floor, swaying to the soft music playing. That was new. Good for them. They looked happy together.

Most people were already here since your Nonna had insisted on being fashionably late.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you heard Rafe's voice from behind you. You turned around and the sight of him made your mind go blank. You'd let yourself picture how Rafe Cameron might look in a suit but the real deal was so much better.

Rafe cleared his throat snapping you back to reality. "You look nice," he said, the compliment bringing a smile to your face.

"You too, Cameron."

"Hey, come with me. I wanna talk to you." He reached down, taking your hand and you slipped your fingers between his, letting him lead you back inside. Almost every person you passed seem to know Rafe and smiled at him or stopped for a quick "hello."

He pulled open a heavy door and ushered you inside. It was the same bathroom where you'd meet Sarah for the first time while trying to escape boring lunch small talk. What were you doing here? Rafe leaned down, checking that all the stalls were in fact empty before turning the hatch on the door to lock it.

Rafe smiled at you widely. "Hi," he muttered as he brought his hand up to cup your face, running his thumb over your cheek.

The butterflies sprung up in your stomach almost immediately.

"Hi," you said back quietly, afraid of breaking the moment.

He walked you backward gently until you felt the cool wall against the exposed skin of your back.

His mouth was dangerously close to yours. His other hand landed on your thigh and he slowly slide it upwards. You weren't sure if you cursed buying a dress with such a high slit or were grateful for the easy access.

“Rafe, we can't do this again. Not here,” you warned but you were sure he could see right through your words. “We were both drunk last time.”

“And I’m completely sober now.” His hand inched closer to your core.

“Do you even remember it?”

“Do you really think I would have dragged you in here and have you pressed up against this wall if I didn’t? Yes, I remember it y/n. I remember the whole very clearly.”

Rafe dropped his voice to just above a whisper. He smoothed his thumb over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want this.” But you did want. You wanted it so badly it was killing you. Every bit of you turned to jelly under his touch and you wanted Rafe’s hands all over your body. You had zero interest in telling him to stop. His fingers ghosted over your underwear and you let out a whine without realizing it. “See, I’m barely even touching you and you’re already whining for me.”

Your forehead dropped to his shoulder as he moved your underwear aside, dipping his fingers into your folds.

“Ah, ah, ah. Look at me, baby.” Rafe said, pushing your head back upright before he moved his hand down to wrap his fingers around your throat. His eyes meet yours. This was a different side of Rafe. Rougher and wild but incredibly sexy.

Another moan caught in your throat as he pushed two fingers inside of you. “Fuck, Rafe.”

Your back arched off the wall and a loud moan tumbled off your lips as he hit the sweet spot inside of you. “Good girl,” Rafe praised. His words turning you on even more.

Rafe could tell you were nearing your climax and slide his fingers out suddenly.

“Fuck you, Cameron,” you spit.

He laughed. “Please, it couldn’t be more evident that you want to,” he replied, hiking your dress all the way up to your waist, pulling your lacy underwear down to the floor before undoing his belt and kicking his own pants off. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt, desperately pulling it open to run your hands over his beautifully chiseled abdomen. 

His clothed dick, bulging out of his boxers, rubbed against your clit and your hips bucked up automatically, craving the friction.

Rafe ran his thumb over your bottom lip, slipping it into your mouth as it naturally fell open. “God, you look so fucking hot right now y/n. So so pretty.” He pushed your hips back against the wall, harshly. “But let’s remember, I’m in charge here.”

“Please, Rafe,” you begged. You knew he was going to keep teasing you, loving the way you squirmed under his words.

Rafe pushed his boxer down this knees freeing his hard cock before pulling a condom out of the jacket, unrolling it over his dick. He lined it up with your entrance, pushing into your slowly. The pace almost making you cry out.

“Jesus, Cameron. Fuck me already if you’re going to,” you hissed, annoyed with the ends he was pushing you to.

Rafe chuckled, his eyes locked with yours as he slammed his whole length into you. You bit down on your bottom lip trying to stay quiet.

Rafe reached down, hooking your leg around his waist so he could enter you at a new angle. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder, holding onto him for support. Your breath hitched as his thumb began to rub small circles on your clit.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," Rafe said, his own breathing uneven. "I needed to do this again."

His mouth attached to your neck, kissing and sucking and you were sure you would find a hickey there tomorrow morning. He rested his forehead on yours, your mouths an inch apart.

You could feel your release growing closer and closer. Rafe's own movements were getting sloppy and desperate. He closed the distance, landing his lips on yours, catching your moans as you came undone. He continued to kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth, finishing just seconds later.

Neither of you moved for a few moments, savoring the feeling of just holding each other. Your lips met again, the kiss was sweet and slower but still full of passion.

“That was a super productive conversation, Cameron,” you joked.

“I didn’t come here to have one.” He smirked, moving away from you to slip back on his pants. You walked over to the mirror to evaluate how disheveled Rafe’s impromptu due need to fuck had left you. Some piece of hair had sipped out of your braid but they framed your face nicely making it look almost intentional so you could definitely get away with it. Your red lipstick was noticeably gone. If your mom got suspicious, you’d have to blame it on not being able to find a straw. Though the stain on Rafe’s own lips might give you away.

Rafe came up from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. You watched his movements in the mirror.

With a face like pretty it really was no surprise you found yourself in situations like this. Not that you were complaining. But Rafe had this pull on you that was truly indescribable but impossible to resist.

“Should we get back out there?” You asked. “People might start wondering where you went.”

“Let them,” Rafe replied, placing another kiss on your neck, just below the edge of your jaw. It was your favorite place to feel his lips on you. That spot in particular sent a shiver through your body whenever he kissed it.

“I’ll go first and you follow in five minutes.”

“We can just leave together,” he countered.

“Phoebe might see.”

Rafe hesitated, picking up on the double meaning of your words but wanting to avoid a fight over it. “Okay. You go first.”

☼☼☼

You let yourself get pulled into Rafe Cameron’s orbit for the remainder of the summer. You became a regular figure at the group’s parties, becoming especially fast friends with Riley as you spent more time together and bonded over the world that was high school theater. Milo had claimed you as his beer pong partner from the beginning and the two of you had managed to remain undefeated. The evenings usually ended in you and Rafe sneaking away to his house or yours, the culmination of sly glances and flirtatious winks you’d been teasing each other with the entire time. You left your window perpetually unlocked and learned how to dart across the Cameron’s front lawn without making the motion-sensor lights go off.

One summer night, near the middle of July, you were standing on Rafe's front porch having slipped out quietly when the light clicked on illuminated the yard, You froze, fearing you'd been caught by Rose or worse by Ward but instead, Sarah stepped out of the shadows, her eyes equally wide with fear of being caught.

"Shit, she cursed, half giggling. "I usually don't make that go off."

"Where have you been?" You asked her playfully.

"I meet a boy," she confessed.

Your features contorted into a smile seeing the happiness radiating off Sarah.

"Aw Sarah. I'm so happy for you. Just be safe, okay?" It was hard to believe but Sarah was now the same age you'd been when you and Rafe had first meet.

"Don't worry, y/n. Nothing's even happened. We just sit in his room, talking for hours," she paused, finally realizing the strangeness of you standing on her front porch in the early hours of the morning. "Oh my God. Wait? Are you and Rafe...? It’s about time."

You held out your hand to shush her. The look on your face giving away all your secrets.

"You're good for him," Sarah added. "You're good for each other."

The light clicked off again, the darkness of the night enveloping the two of you.

"That's my cue." You reached out, pulling Sarah in for a quick hug, placing a loving kiss in her blonde hair.

"Bye." She squeezed her arms tighter around your waist before letting go.

☼☼☼

You knocked on the door of Sawyer's pool house, the location the group had decided on for the night after a rather fierce argument in the group chat, one you had pointedly stayed our off. Rafe opened the door, smiling at your presence before stepping outside, pulling the door closed behind him.

He leaned down for a kiss. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," you replied, your lips meeting his.

His hand automatically reached for yours. "C'mon. I wanna do something fun tonight."

"But isn't everyone in there?" You pointed behind him.

"Yeah, but it's just gonna be the same boring thing. Sawyer's drunk already because he can't hold his alcohol for shit. Phoebe thinks we should hit up some touran's party. And Cleo and Milo are no-shows. So let’s go do something else."

You shrugged. You'd much rather have Rafe all to yourself anyway. "Okay, where are we going?"

“It’s a surprise.”

Ten minutes later and Rafe was pulling into the desert parking lot of his high school. “Welcome to the Kook Academy. That’s not it’s actual name but everyone on the island just calls it that since none of the pogues can afford to go here.”

The lofty walls of the private school loomed above you. It looked like a fucking castle that belonged in the rolling heels of Europe, definitely not in the middle of North Carolina.

“C’mon. You can see practically the entire island from the roof.”

“How the hell are we gonna get up there?” You asked.

“The lacrosse team pulled this sweet prank last season and I still have the keys to the roof. Plus, it’s summer. No one’s even here.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Rafe Cameron.”

He leaned across the middle console, sliding a hand being your neck and pulling your face close into his. “I promise it’ll be worth it,” he said before landing his lips on yours.

Soon you were climbing into his lips, straddling his hips. The roof-top adventure temporarily put on hold. You gripped his blonde locks as his hands worked their way under your shirt.

"I thought we were breaking into your high school?" You tesed.

"We are. Right now, I'm just trying to break into your bra," Rafe answered.

"Okay." You shoved his hand away. "On account of the fact that that was the worst comeback I've ever heard, let's go."

"I can't help it. Your tits were distracting me," he answered, trying to reach for them again.

You swatted his hand away "Rafe."

"Party pooper," he replied with a frown.

"You're such a drama queen." You leaned down for a quick kiss, tearing your lips away before he had the chance to pull you in deep.

Rafe hadn't lied. The view from the roof was breathtaking. You could see all the way to the end of the island from the top of the fourth-story building. The cars moving below were tiny dots, the people even smaller. You stood at the edge, your eyes fixed on the churning ocean stretching beyond the horizon. The whole thing felt eternal.

Rafe's eyes watched your own, the glint in them growing as you took in the sight.

"Holy shit, Rafe. This is amazing," you said, wrapping your arms tight around his neck, not looking away from the skyline.

"I thought you might think so."

The two of you stayed like that and watched the sun disappear below the horizon in a blaze of orange and pink glory before the dark night sky littered with brights stars replaced it.

The wind nipped at your skin, fiercer up here than on the ground. It made you snuggle into Rafe's side, stealing his body heat to stay warm.

"Ready to go back down?" Rafe asked.

"Not yet." You weren't prepared for this moment to end. You longed to stay in it, here, with him, for as long as you could.

"Okay," Rafe answered, pulling your back closer into his chest and wrapping his arms tighter around you to fight off the cold. "Okay," he repeated. He let a few more minutes pass before breaking the silence again.

“I bought you something.”

You turned to face him, eyebrows raised in surprise. Rafe had money, obvious, but you never knew him to be much of a gift-giver. Mostly, because he was hyperaware that the money belonged to Ward, not him. Rafe reached into his back pocket, producing a small black velvet box. You took it from his outstretched hands and opened it. Inside, lay a beautiful gold necklace with a single dainty star.

You look up at Rafe tears welling in your eyes from the romantic gesture. Your heart swelled. “Oh my God. I love it, Rafe.” I love you. You stopped yourself before those three little words, three words more explosive than dynamite, had the chance to slip out as well.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s only a necklace. Want me to put it on you?”

You nodded, handing Rafe back the box. You lifted up your hair up with one hand and he carefully draped the necklace around your neck, fastening the clasp in the back.

Rafe smiled at the look of it hanging around your neck like a reminder that you always had him, that you would always have him.

“Thank you, babe. I seriously love it.” You took the necklace between your fingers peering down at it.

“Anything for my girl.” 

☼☼☼

Hours later, you were back in Rafe’s room, laying on top of him, your naked stomachs pressed together, your head resting on his chest, your legs intertwined beneath the comforter. Rafe ran his index finger lazily up and down your arm, goosebumps springing up in its wake. You lifted your head off his chest to look at him.

“I think we should maybe talk about what happened last summer," you started.

“Why?” He asked back.

“Uh, cause you told me to pick and I didn’t pick you. But then I get back to the Outer Banks and we sleep together within the first week.”

“But you’re not dating Evan anymore.”

“Right.”

“So what’s there to talk about. You’re free to fuck anybody you want. Preferably me, right now, again.” He eagerly moved you so that your already sensitive core, from the night's earlier activities, was straddling his thigh. You groaned at the contact, quickly shifting away as not to let him distract you from the conversation.

“What about Phoebe?” You asked.

“What about Phoebe?”

“Well, you took her to Midsummers.”

“Cause we’re friends and I knew it would make Ward happy.”

You paused. “But we’re friends.”

“Baby, trust me. Phoebe and I are not the same kind of friends me and you are.” His palm landed on your back, rubbing small comforting circles.

"Meaning you're not sleeping with her?" The words came as a question, though you’d meant it as a statement.

"Definitely not." Rafe paused. "It's just you."

This was the closest you'd come to having the 'What are we?' conversation. You had suspected the two of you had been exclusive for some time but it was refreshing to hear Rafe say it aloud.

"Yeah, it's just you for me too," you replied.

You started to move off Rafe's warm body. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“I gotta get home. My mom’s started going on these crazy 6 a.m morning runs and I’m afraid she’s gonna catch me sneaking it.” You leaned down to kiss him again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ward and I are leaving for those college visits tomorrow.”

Oh shit, you had forgotten about that. “And my flight back’s the week after that.” The implication of your words hung in the air. The summer was coming to a close and you couldn’t stop it.

“It’s okay y/n. We’ll call and text during the school year and next summer you’ll be back.”

“Right,” you agreed, trying to ignore the sinking feeling growing in your stomach. You had the summer-fling of your dreams with Rafe and here he was promising to stay in touch so why didn’t it feel good? Why didn't it feel right?

“I gotta go. Have a good trip.” You took Rafe's face in your hands hoping to kiss away the uneasy feeling. Rafe's hands wandered down to cup your butt, pulling you back on top of him.

“Rafe...” you trailed off as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“Shhh,” he mumbled back.

You knew you should probably pull yourself away from him, staying would cut it too close with your mom but the way his hands roamed your body was making it hard to think about anything rationally. He rolled your hips against his already hard-again dick. Fuck, the things this boy did to you were dangerous. Besides, maybe this would distract you from that achy feeling you had about the future so you let yourself kiss Rafe back desirously.

But two weeks later, as the tires of your plane lifted off the runway, en route back to Oregan, that feeling hadn’t gone away in the slightest.

taglist! @oreoenthusiast13 [drop a ☀️ in my inbox or messages if you want to be added]

[bellisperennis0]

Her Best Friend

Word Count: 1,662

Warnings: Slight Language

A/N: Not too thrilled with this one. Trying to get my inspiration to write back. GIF credit to owner, found off Google. Again, thank you for reading and enjoy! ❤️

--------------------

Angel had texted you while you were at work telling you there was going to be a huge clubhouse party, a few other charters were coming down, he hadn’t seen you in a while and wanted you to show up and have some fun. You told him you would think about it and text him later to let him know if you were showing up or not.

When you arrived at the Clubhouse the party was in full swing. As you made your way towards the clubhouse you said your hellos to some of the guys who were enjoying the cool Santo Padre night as well as a bloody brawl in the cage. Making your way inside, you freeze when the first person you make eye contact with is your ex-boyfriend, Jake. Before you can process anything, Angel is pulling you into a quick hug.

“What is he doing here?” You ask him as you hug him back.

“Apparently he is the potential new Prospect for the Oakland charter.” He tells you, placing a kiss to your head.

“I should probably go, I don’t wan-.” You begin but Angel is quick to cut you off.

“Stop! Don’t be crazy. He knows better than to start anything here. None of us will allow that shit to fly. Come on.” He tells you, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the poker table where he was currently playing a game against Bishop and Coco.

Giving Coco a quick kiss to his cheek, you go and wrap your arms around Bishop’s neck, giving him a peck to the cheek, “Hay, Uncle Bish.” You say.

“Sweetheart.” He says, placing his hand over yours, rubbing small circles.

“What is he doing here?” you ask him in his ear. He chuckles, “Sorry sweetheart, I wasn’t aware he was trying to be a Prospect. I had a talk with him already and told him he better not start shit.” You give him another kiss to the cheek and take a seat in-between him and Angel.

You were enjoying your time joking around with the guys for the past couple hours, missing the awesome stories Gilly and Coco always seemed to have.

Excusing yourself you begin to get up from your seat, “Where are you going?” Angel asks you as he grabs your hand. “Bathroom.” You tell him giving him a smile. “Hurry back, querida.” He says giving you a wink.

Since you sat down you have noticed Angel was a little touchier then he normally would be, even taking you by surprise when he kept turning down the Club hang arounds.

----------

As you were making your way through the back hall heading back to the main room, you curse when you see you ex leaning against the wall at the end of the hall, clearly waiting for you.

“Hay Baby girl, long time no see.” He chuckles, giving you a smug smirk. Rolling your eyes, you try your best to walk past him, but he grabs you by your wrist, stopping you.

“What do you want Jake?” you ask him once you were face to face with him, clear annoyance in your voice.

“Do you really think I am that stupid, beautiful? You and Angel, I’m really supposed to believe that?” he asks you as he chuckles.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Please let go of me.” You tell him as you gently try to tug your wrist from his grasps.

“Come on you‘re really not in love with Angel. You’re just using him to make me jealous.” You scoff and roll your eyes. You then hear Angel’s voice come up behind you.

“I’d appreciate it if you take your filthy hands off my girl.” Angel says as he approaches, placing a reassuring hand on the small of your back.

“Cute you really got him playing the part to.” Jake chuckles.

“I’m not playing any part. And if you don’t let her go my fist will let you know how much I’m not playing a part.” Jake is quick to release you and Angel pulls you behind him.

Jake scoffs, “You’re seriously with him?” he asks, as he points towards Angel.

“As a fucking heart attack. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll walk away.” Angel threatens. Jake puts his hands in the air in surrender. “Hear you loud and clear, Reyes. I’ll see you around y/n.” he says giving you a wink and walking away.

Angel turns to you, placing a hand on your hip. “You alright?” he asks you. “Yeah. I’m sorr-“ you begin, but Angel cuts you off. “Stop apologizing, you didn’t do anything.” he tells you putting his arm around your shoulder and leading you back to the party.

----------

As the night went on you noticed Angel was getting more and more affectionate. Hardly ever leaving your side, never letting you leave his sight, a hand on you at all times. You have noticed your ex-boyfriend creeping around outside, staring in your direction most of the night, you just figured Angel’s behavior was just part of this little act you two had going on to keep him away.

It was clear that you and Angel had a connection, one of more than just friends. Everyone could see the real connection you and Angel had, everyone telling you that even though Angel denied having any feelings towards you, deep dowm he truly did feel the same way as you did. Which is why you decided to confess your feelings for him not too long ago, after a drunken night at the clubhouse, but were completely crushed when he confessed his feeling for Adelita instead.

----------

Coming back to your seat next to Angel after helping Letty out with something in the Clubhouse, you were caught off guard when Angel grabbed you to sit in his lap instead. Catching sight of your ex across the yard you decide to going along with Angel’s lead, but were surprised when Angel decided to bury his face in the crook of your neck, placing kisses up and down your neck.

“What are you doing, Ignacio?” you ask as you pull away to look at him.

“Gotta sale this shit, querida. Gotta get rid of that asshole for good.” He tells you as he looks up at you.

You and Angel flirted here and there, but it never went past innocent touching and most the time he flirted with you when he needed to get away from a clingy club hang around. Tonight the way Angel was behaving almost had you thinking this wasn’t just an act, but his true intentions.

“You’re just drunk, Angel.” You say gently pushing him away.

“Not as drunk as you think I am.” He tells you. Before you can respond Angel’s fingers caress your cheek before pulling you into a passionate kiss. Your whole body tingled, the feeling of Angel’s lips against yours, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest, it all felt like home.

“I love you!” he blurted out as he gently pulled away from you.

Opening your eyes, your brows furrow in confusion. Searching Angel’s face all you find is sincerity and pure love. Even more confused than before, without saying a word, you get up off Angel’s lap and begin walking towards EZ’s trailer. When you finally hear Angel’s heavy booted steps behind you, you turn to face him.

“This was all fake, this was supposed to be fake, you weren’t supposed to tell me you love me!” you practically shout at Angel.

“I’m sorry! I believe you were the first one to say it, mi dulce.” He says, clearly taking offense to your reaction.

“What about Adelita? Your feelings for her? Working things out with her?” you ask him.

Angel scoffs, “I just said all that shit because I was afraid of confessing my true feelings. I knew how drunk you were that night, the last thing I wanted to do was to pour my heart out to you, for you to not remember any of it later.” He tells you, as he slowly approaches you.

“Then why don’t you tell me how you feel now?” you shyly ask him.

He gives you a smile, “Since that night you told me everything, all I could think about is how bad I want you by my side, all day every day. Coming home to you after a long day, especially after a long run. Kissing you whenever I please. That gorgeous face being the first and last thing I see every day. Having you in my arms. Simply existing in your world.” He tells you as he pulls you into his arms, gently wiping the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

“Say it again?” you ask him.

“I love you!” he tells you, smiling down at you as his thumb softly strokes your cheek.

Grabbing the front of his kutte you pull him in, claiming his mouth again, hungry and intense.

“I Love you to, Angel Reyes.”

“What do you say I take you home and show you how much I really love you?” He says

Rolling your eyes and slapping his chest, “Leave it up to you to ruin a romantic moment.” You both giggle.

“Like you weren’t thinking the same thing, dulce.”  He tells you, throwing his arm around your shoulder and walking you both to his bike.

As you both get ready to ride off the yard, you both spot your ex staring in your direction. Wrapping your arms around Angel’s waist, he leans back to give you another kiss. When you both turn back, you see your ex throw his beer bottle out of frustration and storm back into the Clubhouse; causing you both to chuckle.

“Take me home, Reyes!” you say as you place your hands on his chest.

“My pleasure, querida.” He says bringing your hand to his lips, his bike roaring to life.

-xx

[shawnssongs]

Do You Remember?

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Reader and JJ get a little wasted after a kegger and try to figure out what happened the night before. JJ worries the reader will regret it.

Warnings: Lots of drinking, obviously. A little bit of language. A bit of poorly written smut... also it’s 4k...

Check out my masterlist!

gif from @rudypankows​

You never approved of getting blackout drunk, unable to control your actions or remember them the next day, but sometimes things just happen.

You’d had a really bad day. While that wasn’t an excuse, you used it as one anyway. You lived with your mom, and you found out your store wasn’t doing very well. If sales didn’t pick up soon, you’d lose the store. You’d lose everything.

That’s when you found out the pogues wanted to throw a kegger in the bone yard, and honestly, that was great news. Not only could you let loose and relax after hearing such bad news, but since the bone yard was so close to the cut, everyone always stopped at your mom’s store to get supplies. Kooks would buy some hard liquor with their fake id’s. People would buy ice, candy, chips. Honestly, you didn’t even want to know what the use of certain things people bought before parties were. You never asked. You were just glad to get that rush of income.

Today, you’d decided to help your mom out at the store since you knew there’d be a rush. You worked the counter, letting kooks buy alcohol despite knowing they weren’t of age. I mean, you weren’t of age and you drank alcohol, and you never wanted to be a hypocrite, so who are you to stop them from doing the same? Either way, the fact that they never had to try too hard to get alcohol from you was kind of nice. Despite hating them, you got along with most of the kooks. They liked you. You knew it was only because of the alcohol, but you didn’t care. If the kooks started trouble with the pogues, or the other way around, you usually had a pretty good chance of stopping the conflict.

The party had been going on for about an hour by the time you were able to make your way down the bone yard.

“Hello, my very best friend in the whole world,” Kiara greeted, pulling you in for a side hug as she helped John B and JJ serve beer from the keg.

“Why hello, my very drunk best friend in the whole world,” you laughed.

“I’m not drunk!” She defended. “Just buzzed and happy.”

You smiled at her before looking to John B and JJ.

You glanced to the keg. “I’m gonna need some of that.”

“Alright.” JJ smirked, handing you a solo cup full of beer.

You shook your head. “No. I want up.”

John B and JJ both looked at you in shock, and JJ’s expression soon turned to amusement.

“No way.” He smiled in disbelief.

“You sure?” John B asked. “You just got here...”

“Oh trust me, Johnny boy, I already started.” You pulled a flask full of whiskey out of the back pocket in your jean shorts and tossed it to him.

He opened it and took a sniff, as if in disbelief that you’d actually been drinking alcohol.

You’d charged all the kooks extra when they purchased alcohol tonight, claiming that if they didn’t pay extra, you wouldn’t serve them. You left all the extra money at the store to help out your mom, but you did grab a little bottle of whiskey for yourself on the way out.

“Hell yeah!” JJ cheered after he took a sip from your flask and reached his hand out for yours. “Come on, girl.”

He helped you get situated with your hands on the side of the keg.

“John B, help her out. Grab the hose.”

John B nodded and did what he was told.

“Alright, you ready?” JJ asked, waiting for you to smile back at him and nod.

“You sure?” John B asked again, not wanting you to do something you’d regret.

“I’m sure.”

“Alright. 1, 2, 3!” JJ counted down and you kicked your legs up, allowing JJ to grip your thighs and keep you balanced upside down on top of the keg.

John B held the hose to your mouth, him, and the rest of the crowd that had gathered all counting how many seconds you stayed up there.

JJ couldn’t help but let his eyes wander while you were upside down. Your loose shirt was fairly sheer anyway, but it had fallen around your shoulders and neck, allowing him the perfect view down your toned stomach all the way to your bikini. JJ hadn’t seen this one before, and he had to say he was definitely a fan. It seemed to be pretty skimpy, and it was an emerald green color, complementing your tanned skin perfectly.

You gave a nod to John B when you heard him reach 22, unable to drink anymore.

You felt a little light headed as you stood upright again, but the cheering kept you going. You threw your arms up cheering for yourself along with everyone else.

JJ’s arm made its way around your shoulder and you felt him pull you into his side.

“Fuck yeah!” He yelled, holding his free hand out for you to high five.

The crowd around the keg started to disperse, but you weren’t really paying attention, your eyes locked on JJ’s.

“That was hot.”

“Really?” You asked. “I can’t go as long as you.”

JJ shrugged. “You can go longer than most. Bet John B can’t hit 20.”

You chuckled at that, knowing JJ was probably right.

JJ knew you weren’t the type to drink so much though, and since you were such close friends, he knew this meant something must be up. He also knew you wouldn’t tell him, but he asked anyway, just in case.

“So, what happened?”

You looked at him in question.

“I mean, why’re you drinking? Something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, J. Just in the mood. Where’s my flask?” You changed the subject quickly, obviously hiding something.

JJ grabbed your flask out of his pocket and took a sip before handing it to you.

“Y/n, that’s strong,” JJ pointed out as if you were unaware.

You smiled. “I know.”

JJ watched as you swallowed way more than he’d expected you to be able to handle. He wasn’t sure if he was more turned on or worried, but he wasn’t going to question it.

“Let’s party!” You cheered, running back to meet some of your other friends.

JJ watched from afar as you got completely wasted. He kept up with you for a while, but he also wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid or dangerous so he started to pace himself. He knew John B was looking out for you as well, but selfishly, JJ wanted to be the one to protect you.

JJ couldn’t have been happier when you made your way, on your own, back to him later on in the party.

You’d drunkenly sauntered up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you fell into his chest.

“Mmm.” He felt you mumble into him. “Take me home?” You asked, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Of course, he could never say no to you.

“Wait!” You stopped, pulling away. “I’ll be back.”

JJ watched as you ran off again, approaching a group of kooks who were all sitting around, sharing a couple bottles of alcohol and smoking as far as JJ could tell. He watched as you got a little too close for comfort to one of the guys, practically sitting in his lap.

JJ felt something in his chest drop when he watched the guy start to kiss down your neck until his face was out of view and all JJ could see was your back.

He was about to head over and intervene when he noticed you standing up, bottle in hand.

You skipped back to JJ, happy as can be as if you weren’t just macking a kook.

“What was that?” JJ scolded, refraining from the profanities he wanted to use.

“Just gettin’ this.” You held up the bottle so JJ could see, smiling giddily.

It was an almost full bottle of sunset rum.

“Fucking shit...” JJ trailed off, taking the bottle to look at the alcohol content. This stuff was hard... and expensive.

“When he bought it, I knew they wouldn’t drink it.” You explained. “Kooks aren’t into rum. Not unless it’s a daiquiri or a mojito. They sure love their specialty cocktails.” You took the bottle back from JJ, opening it and taking a sip before wrapping your arm around his shoulder this time. “Now come on! Take me home.”

JJ took you to his place, knowing his dad was probably either gone or passed out. He didn’t want your mom to see you like this because he knew the two of you had a close relationship. Plus, Luke Maybank was smart enough not to mess with JJ in public. He knew how to get away with everything he did to his son. If he happened to be home and awake, JJ would be safe because you were with him.

JJ watched as you stumbled into his house after you pushed his arms away, refusing his help. You said you were a strong, independent woman, and you could take care of yourself. JJ only let you go a few steps on your own before he placed his hands on your hips, steadying your form until the two of you made it into his room.

“Ooh, comfy!” You cheer, jumping onto his unmade bed. He would’ve cleaned up if he knew you’d be coming over... Eh. Probably not.

“You’re a mess, Y/n.” JJ admitted, trying to keep himself calm even though you were literally in his bed. He had dreamt of this happening a few more times than he’d like to admit.

“No! I feel good!” You argued, that perfect smile still adorning your face. You were definitely a happy drunk.

“Yeah, you won’t tomorrow.”

JJ opened his drawer, pulling out a pair of sweats and a tee shirt.

“Here,” he offered, tossing the clothes towards you.

“No!” You complained, throwing the sweats back at him. “Too hot.”

JJ turned to look for a pair of shorts he thought might fit you, not noticing that you’d stood up from the bed until he heard you unzip your shorts.

“What are you doing?” He knew exactly what she was doing.

“You gave me clothes. I’m changing.”

JJ just turned around. He knew you weren’t going to stop, and as much as he wanted to watch, he couldn’t take advantage of you like that while you’re drunk. He listened as he heard clothes hit the floor, and he didn’t turn until he felt your finger tap on his shoulder.

JJ turned, and he had to keep his mouth from watering at the sight. You had picked up the previously discarded bottle of sunset rum up off the floor, and there you were, standing in front of JJ in only his shirt and your bikini bottoms. And he knew you weren’t wearing anything underneath his shirt because he could see the bathing suit top he had been so enamored with earlier in the night sitting on the floor just a couple feet away.

“Never have I ever?” You suggest, and JJ can’t keep himself from agreeing, so he made his way to the kitchen and grabbed two shot glasses before returning to his room.

He should’ve just put you to bed or something. He knew that, but something kept him from doing so.

He watches as you plop down on his bed, your toned legs crisscrossing in front of you, giving JJ a perfect view of your covered heat since his tee shirt that you were wearing rode up. He was spending most of his attention trying not to let his eyes venture downward, so he hadn’t even realized you’d been talking.

“JJ!” You snapped him out of it.

“Uh, huh?” He asks, meeting your eyes.

In his attempt to look away from the tempting sight in front of him, somehow JJ had ended up staring anyway, and he knew you realized what he’d been doing when he noticed the smirk on your face.

“Never have I ever been caught staring at my friend.” You spoke in a tone JJ couldn’t interpret, but that was probably just because his mind was a bit foggy.

“Ha ha.” He responded unenthusiastically, taking a shot of the strong liquid, wincing despite his efforts not to.

“Never have I ever...”

Apparently, the two of you continued to play the game until the bottle was empty, because you woke up with probably the worst hangover you’d ever had, your face hanging off the side of JJ’s bed, staring right down at the bottle of empty rum.

You roll over to see if JJ’s next to you, and that’s when you notice nothing is covering your bottom half. You’re completely naked under this tee shirt you knew was JJ’s.

You close your eyes, unsure if you really want to see the state JJ is in, but when you finally open them, you notice he’s curled up in his comforter. What a gentleman...

You pull yourself out of the bed, careful not to wake JJ, but not too careful because by the sounds of his snores, he’s not going to be waking up any time soon.

You find your bathing suit bottoms a couple feet away from the bed and inspect them. No rips or tears. That’s a good sign, right? Your shorts, top, and shirt are all together in one pile just past the end of JJ’s bed, and you briefly remembering taking all of that off when JJ gave you his shirt. You don’t really feel like re-dressing, so you just decide to slip on those sweatpants JJ had offered you the night before. You knew he wouldn’t mind.

You sneak out of JJ’s room, closing the door behind you lightly to not wake him up.

“Well, hello there.”

You jump, startled by the voice.

Luke Maybank.

“Hi, Mr. Maybank.” You speak awkwardly, turning to face JJ’s father with a shameful look on your face.

“You’re not a tourist are you?” He asks knowingly.

“Um...no.”

“Yeah, I know. I recognize you.”

“We’ve met a few times.” You explain.

“You screwin’ my son?”

“N-no!” You shake your head rapidly, your eyes wide in shock and your cheeks blushed in embarrassment. “I was... uh, drunk, and JJ brought me here so my mom wouldn’t see.”

Luke smiled, much to your surprise. You hadn’t had much interaction with the man before. JJ never really allowed it to happen, but from what JJ told you and what you assumed, you weren’t expecting a smile.

“He’s a good boy, isn’t he?”

Welp, if you weren’t blushing before, you were now. “The best.”

“JJ and I don’t have the greatest relationship-”

Yeah, I know.

“-but I love him. I do. I’m glad he has friends like you.”

You really didn’t know what to say to that. You barely even knew the man, and you were pretty sure he didn’t know your other friends either.

When he didn’t continue to speak, you waved an awkward goodbye and walked to the door.

Just as you were about outside, Luke Maybank’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“One more thing.” You turned to face him, allowing him to continue. “Don’t lie to me again.” Before you even got the chance to question him, he pointed at his own neck. “You’re all marked up.”

Shit...

“Uh, I’m sorry,” you apologize, turning to leave. “Bye, Mr. Maybank.”

You walked as fast as you could to your own house, completely and utterly embarrassed. A reminder of something you couldn’t even remember happening was currently staining your neck. Did JJ remember? Maybe you just made out, right? Hopefully.

When you made it home, you weren’t surprised to be met with an empty house. Your mom was probably at the store opening up.

Breaking the threshold into your house also seemed to break whatever spell you were under for the whole walk home, because your hangover came back hard. You’d been so occupied with your thoughts on the walk that you hadn’t even noticed it.

You made sure to grab a few pills and a glass of water, downing them before going to the bathroom to take a shower.

“Shit...” Hickeys were plastered all over your neck, and there was probably more bruised skin than clean skin. You knew this didn’t happen at the party, so it had to have been JJ.

When you brush the tips of your fingers over the colored skin, you remember part of last night.

“Never have I ever... wanted to kiss my friend.” Your drunk self giggling at your own question and drinking along with JJ. When your shot glass went down, you leaned forward, drunkenly shooting your shot.

You were shocked when JJ’s hand immediately met your jaw and he leaned into the kiss.

Fireworks. It was cliche, but that’s what you felt in that moment. JJ’s lips on yours sent tingles all the way down to your toes, and after this, you couldn’t imagine not kissing him ever again.

You couldn’t help but let your mouth hang open when JJ clumsily places kisses down your chin and jaw until he reached the hollow of your neck, kissing and sucking as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Eventually, you pulled him back up to your lips, and after what felt like hours of kissing, the two of you finally pulled apart.

“Never have I ever... kissed my friend.” JJ smirked.

Despite your best efforts, the memory ends there, and you’re stuck wondering. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe you guys made out, JJ gave you a ton of hickies, and then you continued the game until you fell asleep. There was no reason to believe yet that anything more happened last night. Not that it would be the end of the world if anything had happened, but if you really had sex with JJ, you kind of wanted to be able to remember it.

While you were taking a shower, JJ’s day began. He woke up on his own, taking a second before opening his eyes. His head wasn’t pounding, but he still definitely had a hangover, and the light coming through his window - since his blinds were cheep and broken - was giving him a headache. It took a second for his brain to turn on, but once it did, he immediately rolled over, checking for you.

Of course, you weren’t there. He wasn’t surprised, though. You were usually an early riser, and maybe you had to help your mom out at the store. However, unlike you, JJ remembered the night before... for the most part. That’s what started to worry him, and his mind immediately assumed the worst. Maybe you regretted what had happened and you left because you didn’t want to face him. Maybe you didn’t like it. Maybe you thought it was a mistake.

As much as JJ wished this had happened under better circumstances, he could never regret it. First of all, it was incredible. The connection between the two of you was just so strong. He’d been feeling it for months, and finally getting to be with you so intimately was one of the best feelings of satisfaction and relief he’d ever felt. He wouldn’t take it back for anything.

Well, maybe if you didn’t remember. That would make him feel terrible. It would mean he took advantage of you, right? JJ didn’t want to think about it, sh he shook it out of his thoughts and got dressed. He has to talk to you about this.

You were just finishing up drying your hair when you heard a knock on your front door. It was likely JJ, but for some reason your mind refused to believe it was him, making excuses like it’s too early and why would he ring the doorbell. Honestly, you didn’t really want to see JJ. You couldn’t remember all of last night, and it was embarrassing. Maybe he didn’t remember either though, right? He drank just as much as you did. You knew that wasn’t the case though since JJ’s tolerance was much higher, but when you heard the doorbell again, you knew you had to answer.

When you finally made it to the door after making sure you looked presentable, you were met with an empty porch. You were confused for a second until you noticed JJ standing out by the street. He must’ve been walking away and turned around when he heard the door.

“Hey. I thought you were at the store or something.”

You smiled, a bit awkwardly. Why were there butterflies in your stomach? It’s just JJ...

“Nope. I’m here.”

JJ has now made it back up to your porch, and he stood a couple feet away, looking awkward as ever.

“H-how are you?” He asked, running his hand through his long blonde strands of hair. JJ had never been good at talking, especially if it was a serious conversation.

“I’m good,” you chuckle. “And you?”

“Good.” He nods, refusing to meet your eyes with his own.

Yep. Awkward.

“Um, you wanna come in?” You ask, being polite, but JJ has other plans. He decides to just dive right in.

“Do you regret last night?” He bursts out, unable to contain his nerves. “D-do you remember last night? I-I know we were both drunk but you, were yo-”

You reached your hand out to grip his, trying to get him to calm down, but you get a different effect than planned. Touching him sent sparks throughout your body, and you flashed back to last night once more.

Skin, sweat, touch. It was messy. It was sloppy. It was wonderful.

Sometime during the game, that heated make out session turned into a lot more. You could feel JJ’s weight pressing you into the mattress, his hot breath palpable on your neck. The pressure was suffocating, but somehow you craved it. His length was thrusting into your heat roughly, but not too hard. Never too hard. It was perfect, like your bodies were made for each other and JJ knew exactly what you liked.

You would’ve gotten lost in the memory if JJ hadn’t been standing in front of you.

“Y/n?” He asked, wondering why you’d zoned out.

Instead of answering him, you took a step closer and tugged on his hand that you were holding, pulling him into a kiss.

Shocked at first, JJ took a few seconds to reciprocate, but once he understood the gesture, he wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him without breaking the kiss.

As great as it was while you were drunk, you wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world.

You struggled for your breath for a second before finally pulling away from JJ, a nervous smile on your face, but the nerves dissipated when you saw JJ’s expression.

He was staring down at you with the most genuine smile you’d ever seen on him.

“I take that as a no?” He asked, his arms still around your waist.

You moved one of your hands up to cup his jaw, not wanting to ever look away from his face again. His sky blue eyes accented by his blonde lashes, his perfectly imperfect teeth, and the sun freckles dispersed around his cheeks and nose. He was such a beautiful sight.

“Never, JJ. Though, I wouldn’t mind trying it again when neither of us are under the influence.”

JJ smirked at that. “How soon is too soon?”

“You’re a dork,” you laugh, and JJ lifts you up so you can wrap your legs around his hips.

“Your dork.”

“Yes.” You smile, leaning forward to rest your head on JJ’s shoulder as he carries you the rest of the way to your room.

You liked the sound of that. JJ was yours, and you were his.

Though you didn’t approve of getting blackout drunk, maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world...

Send me an ask! I always love feedback, + requests are open :)

[gloryofluv]

Order Up! (Coffee Shop AU) Chapter 8

Just going to say, Satan you sneaky little shit. Hahaha This chappy was so fun to write.

Previous Chapter

Alex walked Lucifer inside, and she began her tour. He was silent and examined things with precise evaluation. The woman relaxed as she led him through the first floor. She often would shake her head and shrug at the old furniture she hasn’t touched like monuments to her dead parents.

It was when she took him up the staircase that she grew edgy. Alex showed him the spare room that Jordan stayed in and shook her head at the furniture left. The other room was a study for her father she never went into.

Alex skipped a door and then pointed to the last door down the hall. “And then my parents’ room. So, yeah, that’s the gist of it. I really just think most of the furniture is going to be sold or given away.”

Lucifer scowled at the closed door at the end of the hall. “You never go inside their room?”

“Oh, I dust and everything. I just haven’t packed anything of theirs,” Alex expressed with a tint to her cheeks.

He hummed and paced past her to the door she skipped. “This is your room?”

She nodded quickly. “Yeah.”

He arched an eyebrow before moving from the door. “We’ll see what you will need immediately later.”

Alex rubbed her forearm and agreed. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Let’s take a walk around the yard before we sit down,” Lucifer declared and beckoned her to the staircase.

The pair traveled out to the backyard, and Lucifer evaluated the lawn furniture, swing, and grass. He moved around the side of the house with Alex, and they went through the gate. He gestured to a few decorations and smiled in the slightest.

“I’ve enjoyed seeing those glass peacocks for many years,” He chuckled.

Alex beamed and stroked one of them. “Yes, my mom got them in India when they went on vacation before I was born.”

“I do hope you plan on keeping them. They are a piece of art,” Lucifer nodded.

“Oi, Lucifer! Why are you parked in the driveway?” Mammon shouted.

The pair jerked, and Mammon was walking out of the house. Well, if he didn’t look around, he wouldn’t have seen them. The tremulous man gasped and raced over with a bouncy stride. “Oh, hey, Alex. Whatcha doing over here?”

“We’re evaluating her home,” Lucifer sighed.

“Her home?” Mammon was scratching his head as he glanced at the house. “Ya buying it?”

“No, I’m selling it,” Alex said.

Mammon’s eyes shot open. “Alex, ya live here?” He gasped.

She rocked her head.

“Yes, and now that we have that fact cleared away. We will be helping her move. All of us,” Lucifer voiced.

Mammon blinked and closed the distance. “Yeah, I mean, sure. She’s just one girl and needs some strong men,” he winked.

Alex groaned as Lucifer smacked Mammon’s head. “We talked about this,” Lucifer growled.

Mammon winced and rubbed the back of his head. “Fuck, Lucifer.”

“Hey, what are all of you doing over there?” Satan called out.

Alex shook her head with a small smile. Of course. Satan left their front yard with Asmodeus in tow. Asmo was whispering to Satan in speedy whispers, and he was nodding. They walked over the grass and met the group.

“What exactly is going on?” Asmo asked with exasperation on his face.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. “Beel, get your brother and come across the street. The house with the glass peacocks.”

“Um, okay, Lucifer,” Beel grumbled through the speaker.

He hung up and shook his head. “We mind as well do this now.”

“What about Levi?” Mammon puffed.

“He’s at his anime club at the college,” Satan declared.

“Oh, I’m so proud of him!” Alex gasped. “I’ve been trying to convince him that just because he’s doing online classes doesn’t mean he shouldn’t join a club.”

Satan smiled and nodded. “Yes, he said you promised it would be fun.”

The door across the street slammed, and Beel walked outside with Belphegor stomping with him. They saw Alex and scowled together before walking into the yard. “What the fuck do you think I did now?” Belphegor grumbled.

“Nothing, let’s go inside,” Lucifer sighed and glanced at Alex.

Oh, she needed to lead. Okay. She jutted into motion and moved to the front door. Alex welcomed them inside and guided them into the living room. Lucifer stood by the mantle as Alex settled in the armchair. The other brothers sat down on the sofa and loveseat.

“Well, what are we doing here?” Asmo hummed.

“This is Alex’s house,” Lucifer declared.

Asmo gasped and covered his mouth.

Beel and Belphie glanced at each other.

Satan just smirked and nodded.

“How long have you lived here?” Asmo questioned.

“Since I was a baby,” Alex laughed.

“You knew you lived across from us?” Beel inquired.

“Not until Lucifer helped me with my car. That was how he knew I had a flat tire,” Alex explained.

“Alex has to move, and we are offering her a room to rent until she finds a permanent residence after the sale of her house,” Lucifer voiced.

Satan’s eyebrows arched his eyebrows. “Oh, that’s interesting.”

“Before we go into any odd questions,” Lucifer puffed and shook his head. “There are going to be rules.”

“Well, yeah, for starters, Asmo, you can’t just bust into her room,” Belphie teased.

Lucifer exhaled and glanced at her. “Are you positive you can tolerate them?”

Alex shifted and shrugged. “I’ve only ever lived with Jordan and my parents before. I never had to live in a dorm or anything because I had the house.”

“Oh, you’re so cute! She truly is adorable!” Asmo gushed and shook Satan’s arm. “We need to move her today!”

Satan grimaced and took his arm from Asmodeus. “Alex, I think Lucifer is serious. Do you really want that?” he gestured at Asmo.

Asmo pouted and puffed. “Jerk.”

“I think the obvious is the rules that we had about females in the house before are to be abided by,” Lucifer hummed and waved his hand.

Satan scowled. “I wasn’t around for that, Lucifer.”

“It’s fine,” Lucifer hummed. “We’ll go over them later.”

Alex cleared her throat. “I just want to say I’m not going to be too much trouble. I just work and spend plenty of time by myself. I’ll do my best not to get anyone’s way.”

“You won’t be in anyone’s way,” Belphegor snorted.

“We are going to help her move her things. This is your opportunity to do for her what Diavolo and his father did for us. Do I make myself clear? They helped us in grief, and now we can do the same for Alex,” Lucifer voiced as he directed his attention to his brothers.

They all nodded. “For Lilith,” Beel agreed.

“Yes,” Mammon puffed as he grimaced.

“Hey, if you guys help me sell some of the junk I’m getting rid of, I’ll split the cash with you,” Alex offered.

Mammon perked up and grinned. “Yeah? That sounds easy. Leave it to me!”

“No, I’ll take care of that. So it’s fair,” Satan shook his head. “Mammon is too greedy to help it. However, I’m always willing to help, Alex. We talked about this the other day.”

Asmo waved his hand. “I’ll help with the clothes and accessories! I have to make sure you don’t get rid of the vintage for pennies, honey.”

“Yes, we’ll all help,” Beel nodded.

“Levi has a great setup on eBay,” Belphegor nodded. “I can help him with the pictures and all that.”

Alex blinked. This was the strangest thing ever. They all were just going to help without anything in return? She teared up and tried to hide her face with her hand.

Lucifer breathed and rubbed her shoulder. “It’s alright, Alex.”

“I’m just so touched. No one’s ever done this for me before. I’m so used to being abandoned when times get hard,” she murmured.

“We’re a weird fucked up family, welcome,” Belphegor said.

“Whether ya like it or not, girl,” Mammon added.

“Please stop calling her that. She has a name,” Satan complained.

Alex laughed and pulled her hand away to see Lucifer looking down at her. “Thank you.”

He nodded and squeezed her shoulder before standing straight again. “So, we have plenty of work to do.”

Her doorbell rang, and she jumped. “Shit, I forgot,” she stood up and went to the front door.

When it opened, Solomon was smiling with boxes and packing tape. “Hello, Alex. This is a nice location.”

“I know,” she smiled and wiped her face. “Thanks for dropping them by for me.”

The murmuring in the other room drew his attention. “Do you have visitors?” Solomon questioned.

“Good afternoon, Solomon,” Lucifer hummed.

Solomon’s smile grew. “Oh, good afternoon, Lucifer. Had I known I was interrupting, I would have waited to stop by.”

“You’re not interrupting,” Lucifer voiced.

“Mammon, stop!” Asmodeus snapped from the other room.

“Do you have the whole family with you?” Solomon questioned as he looked at Alex.

She nodded and waved for him to come inside. “Come on in and put the boxes right next to the stairs. I don’t know where I’m going to get started, but I’ll figure it out eventually.”

Solomon complied and set the tape down on the table. “I have more in my car.”

She rocked her head and walked with him out the door. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”

He waved his finger. “Don’t mention it. I had them sitting there collecting dust.”

Alex beamed and stood on the sidewalk as he lifted his trunk. He pulled out several flattened boxes and handed them to her. He shut it and glanced at the house with a nod.

“This will go for plenty, Alex. Your parents still continue to take care of you in ways you don’t understand yet,” He expressed while taking the boxes from her grip.

“Well, I think some of that is the brothers currently arguing in my living room,” Alex laughed and shook her head.

Solomon beamed and nodded. “They’re odd, but I do happen to like them. Just do yourself a favor. They all have demons due to their tragedies. Be careful with your own, alright?”

She cocked her head with a scowl. “Solomon, doesn’t everyone have demons?”

He shook his head. “Nothing in this world will ever create more than feeling unwanted by your parents and losing someone who loved you unconditionally after that. You and I are more human because we were raised around love. They were not. They had to learn how to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I think I understand,” Alex nodded.

Solomon reached out and tucked some of her escaped hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry. You’ll be just fine. It will be a good adventure for you,” he smiled.

Her cheeks darkened, and she tucked her chin toward her neck. “I think so too.”

“Let’s get you back inside so you can wrangle them,” Solomon chuckled and lifted the boxes. They walked instep and Solomon hummed. “You’re quite beautiful, Alex. Appearances matter little. What I'm referring to is your mind. Keep fortifying yourself with experiences. Eat it all with fervor. Stop living for the dead. They’re gone.”

She stopped at the door and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

His cheeks darkened in the slightest, and he nodded. “Of course, Alex.”

Solomon set the boxes down and patted Alex’s shoulder before they bid each other goodbye. She shut the door behind him and paused in thought. He was right. She really needed to embrace this change. Nodding, she walked back into the living room as Lucifer was speaking.

“And once that’s done, the real estate agent will put up the house for sale,” he finished.

Satan and Beel were nodding. “That’s concise,” Satan agreed.

“So, when are we starting?” Alex questioned.

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Lucifer said. “Then, on Thursday, we shall work all day on such. By Saturday, we should have things together to help you move your things over to the spare room. The workers can start with the lower level next week.”

She arched her eyebrow. “Were you talking to my real estate agent today, Lucifer?”

He nodded. “I’m efficient, Alex. When things need to be done, I don’t waver.”

“You are very efficient, and I’m truly grateful for all of you,” Alex smiled.

“Are you coming over for dinner?” Beel asked.

Asmo rocked his head. “You should.”

“Yeah, totally,” Mammon agreed.

Alex laughed and rocked her head. “Okay, I will.”

“Good,” Lucifer paused at his phone ringing. “Yes, Diavolo?” He asked and walked out of the room.

“Such a good little boot licker,” Belphegor snickered.

“How much do you think he sucks his dick between paperwork?” Satan snorted while rolling his eyes.

Alex blinked and tilted her head. “Wait, they’re together?”

Satan grinned and covered Asmo’s mouth. “Yes.”

Mammon snorted. “Yeah, it wouldn’t surprise me, but I don't give a fuck.”

“Completely. Lucifer’s been sucking Diavolo’s dick for years,” Belphegor nodded.

“Now you’re just lying to me,” Alex snorted.

Asmo pulled Satan’s hand from his mouth and puffed. “What I was going to say is yes! Those two are a big power couple behind closed doors,” he laughed.

Beel scratched his head and shrugged. “I guess.”

Alex bounced her shoulders. “Well, you learn something new every day, I guess.”

There was a little back and forth on the subject, but Alex felt her ego slightly deflate. Well, it makes sense, actually. Lucifer basked in compliments, but that's all that was, and came running to her aid. She was a wounded bird.

The woman sat down in her chair and listened to the brothers as they talked about memories at Diavolo’s estate and living there for a bit with his father. They made her laugh and smile, but mostly they made her feel a part of their weird family. That’s what she was missing; family.

@rsmrymnt-tea@otome-scribbles

[popculturebuffet]

Legend of the Three Caballeros: Labyrinth and Repeat Review (Commissioned by WeirdKev27)

Saludos Amigos! We’re back on the Ride of the Three Cablleros as I intend to knock this wonderful series out at a steady cliip, and since I THOUGHT the premire was a two parter, it still ends on a cliffhanger but it’s too early to tell if this is just normal for this series like say Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, where it’s really more one continuous story, or just the end of the pilot. For now with all the exposition out of the way from part 1, we can jump right into the thick of things where we picked off.  PREVIOUSLY ON LEGEND OF THE THREE CABLLEROS: Donald had an enormously shitty birthday, loosing his job, his house and his nightmarish harpy.. er his girlfriend, all in one day. Things went up a bit though when he inhereted a Cabana belonging to his ancestor Clinton Coot and met two new pals: Ladies Man Jose Caricoca and loveable weirdo like myself Pancito Romero A Lot of Other Names Gonzales. The three soon had a yard sale with the various treasures inside the cabana and got an offer for a million dollars for the cabana and all inside from local waiter’s nightmare Baron Von Sheldgoose, whose deal includes a jewel incrusted golden atlas. Upon finding it our boys were attacked by a human goddess who popped out of the book and that’s where we pick up. 

Good. Let’s begin. So Xandra, said goddess, is holding our heroes at arrow point with their attempts to defuse the situation falling flat and their attempt to understandably flee by claming to be the cabs failing pretty much immidatley. We do get some good gags including Jose accidently telling Xandra she smells like feta cheese in greek. But lucky for our boys before Xandra can do a murder on them Donald accidently shuts the book.. and finds out she disappears when he does that. Cue our loveable idiots opening and closing the book for a while, easily one of the best bits of the episode. I will say while the pilot was pretty good comedy wise this episode solidfies how funy the series is. The series is at times a barrage of wonderful jokes and set pieces and it is awesome to behold.  Also a breif thing before we get back to the plot... Xandra is indeed human, or at least looks like one. Normally i’m against this as honestly Ducks just mesh better with Dogfaces, other birds and other anthromorphic animals. It just works better and is more consitent to have a world that’s simply anthro animals and non-anthro animals. But.. it works for me here since so the human characters.. are all gods. While i’d of PREFFERED them to still be non humans, like Ducktales does, it works since she’s not really a human but a god and thus it comes off more as her being something inherently diffrent and otherworldly, but something that’s not so distracting it pulls focus away from the rest of the cast, just otherworldly to our heroes.

So while our boy screw with the goddess who you know, tried to murder them for flimsy reasons without stopping to ask why three strangers look exactly like her friends, we get to know the triplets better. I also get a better bead on what voices Jessica is using. May is using Jessica’s Lynn voice, just a touch higher since May isn’t a preteen, while April, the one in yellow, uses the voice she’d later use for candace. Junes is a BIT like Lucy, but with obviously way more energy and emotion. But it’s clear the three are smart confident and willing to run a scheme, and easily get a thousand bucks out of sheldgoose for the spooky purple ring he saw last episode in a really chortleriffic bit where May serves as an auctioneer while her sisters up the price by bidding thus tricking Sheldgoose into paying. They also get past him having a claim on it as he dosen’t have a receipt or anything else other than a verbal contract with Donald, one that wasn’t even complete since the boys hadn’t brought out the atlas, so they were within their rights to fleece him for the ring.. even if him getting it at all is going to backfire, they had no way of knowing that so it’s whatever.  Back in the house the boys have apparently done the  book thing on Xandra about a hundred times, and Xandra FINALLY grabs the book. At least our boys are bonding. But while threatening them again , she finds out they don’t know what happened.. and recongiing clinton int he painting realizess time has passed, these boys are her boys decendants, and perhaps some explination is in order since she’s lost in a strange world. 

So after unveling a bookmark that allows her to project out of the book without being trapped, Xandra gives us our backstory: long ago, in a distant land I Aku master of darkness unleashed an unspeakable evil... wait sorry wrong narration. Long ago Xandra was guardian of the Atlas, which is explained to be the key to various magical hot spots around the world where various myths come from. Things were fine.. until the evil Lord Felldrake decided to screw it all up, binding Xandra to the book and using it to cause chaos and try and take over the world. All was lost till the Cabs stopped him, freed Xandra best they could, and then journed the world with them till she tragically was shut inside the book and seemingly lost. For whatever reason Clinton never opened the book, we’ll presumibly find out later, and well.. here she is.  Xandra is voiced by, unsuprisingly given this project’s all-star cast, voice acting vetran and modern legend of the buisness Grey DeLisle, also credited as Grey Griffith for a time. And like tress she has a rather massive and awesome resume, which naturally i’ll be going into since usually I go into shows mid way and don’t get to do this: Grey’s notable rolls include Daphne Blake ever since What’s New, Scooby Doo?, Lor from Weekenders, still not on plus and I will not let that fact go till I get a valid reason why not, Crazy Cat Lady and Lizzie Divine, Mandy, Doctor Ghastly, Kimiko Tohomiko, Sam Manson, Frankie Foster, Azula, Riley Daring, Freida Suarez, Black Canary (Brave and the Bold), Fire, Dr. Holiday, Aya, Master Nadia, Magpie, Moon Butterfly, Jackie Lynn Thomas, Lola Loud, Lana Loud, Lily Loud, and Martin Prince following Russi Taylors tragic passing, just to give you an idea of how long, varied and wonderful her career and range is. And to give a certain person paying for this review an idea of some of the shows i’m familiar with. Moving on.  Despite learning of their family legacy of heroics, our heroes are planning to still sell the book given Donald and Jose are poor, and Panchito’s giving in to peer pressure. Seriously Camil is already the MVP of the series, easily the best part of it and it’s a shame he wasn’t brought back for Ducktales, especially since by season 2 frank was aware of legend and Jamie had been on the show before. But Xandra offers them a life of adventure and heroisim.. and when that fails points out theirs treasure and the boys agree to hear her out.  So after showing some off Xandra takes them to a Labyrinth to retreive three mystic amulets, and goads Donald into going in by challenging his Ego after he tries to refuse to go. Panchito is naturally fully on board with a dangerous adventure and Jose is talked into it after Xandra pulls an explination why she can’t go out of her firmly toned ass that theirs a mystic barrier which he buys. So while Xandra conjurs a chair and a coconut drink to relax and wait to see if they die or not, our boys head in.  They find a massive, beautiful labyrnith and a large house containing a minotaur. Sadly i’ts not Ferdinand aka the Minotaur who worked as Wonder Woman’s chef, cooking up damn good vegetarian goodies for her at the Thymsicarian Embasy. All of this is real things that happened and all are things that should be in the next fucking movie. Seriously as much of a mess as Wonder Woman 1984 is, i’d buy a ticket in a heartbeat caution to teh wind if it was announced he was being adapted for it. He’s also very smart, kind and loyal if you were wondering. Get yourself a man like feridnand if your into men. 

Anyways Jose once again tries to speak a languge, and thus we get about a minute of Eric Bauza saying the word moo... sometimes... most times really.. I REALLY, REALLY love my job. But with the bull pissed off and going super sayian god super sayian, there’s only one thing left for our heroes to do...

So they do and we get a great gag where Donald, when deciding wether to split up as to lower the possiblity of him getting hit, has TWO shoulder devils, because inside every man is a battle between good and evil that evil usually wins while dancing and singing a jaunty toon over good’s grave. 

But it naturally backfires and the two devils tell him he’s on his own. So we get a fun chase sequence with the three before Donald finally decides fuck it we can fight back. Noticing Panchito’s talent with a rope, he has him rope and ride the Minotaur which he does, then uses Jose’s hankerchief to lure the minotaur and beat him. It’s a gorgeous, fun action sequence that shows off the series is as cool as it is fricking hilaroius.  So our heroes find the amulets, a blue one for donald, a red for panchito and green for jose, and put em on, proudly telling Xandra. It’s then revealed the Minotaur.. is an old friend of hers and this was just a test to see if they could work together and you know.. not die. They can, and she’s proud and plesantly suprised by how good they are.  So our heroes return home, Xandra storring the atlas on her back, and all three suitably impressed. Their further impressed when they find a hidden lair with more treasure, and three sets of armor, their ancestors old armor which as it did in the teaser at the start of the series, looks REALLY fucking cool and comes from various civlizations. Just.. lovely to look at. Our heroes pose.. and the nieces find them, wonder what’s going on, and mention Sheldgoose at the door, apparnelty not phased to meet a god or that their surrogate uncle has a hlemet.  Sheldgoose has come to offer the money.. and it’s REALLY tempiting. Donald has lost EVERYTHING remember, this money could help win Daisy back, get him a fancy house still in new quackmore.. even a third of a million is still enough to set someone as humble and easy to please as donald for life. But.. it’s here where this episode succeds where the premire fell. By this point we’ve SEEN Donald’s weaknsses: he’s greedy, short sighted and selfish. So it makes it THAT MUCH more impactful when he does the right thing, tearing up the check and refusing to sell out his legacy. Sure this could make his life better.. but it’s not worth his soul, his new friends or the world’s safety. He may not be able to get Daisy back or a new house.. but he’d NEVER be able to repalce his new friends, his legacy, or his wonderful new home.  Sheldgoose naturally throws a fit and vows vengance and what have you... and just as naturally gets dragged away by his ring. Like the boys he’s brought to a mystic secret chamber by a family heirloom.. but unlike the boys we get a wonderful sequence of him being slammed into things while Wayne Knight makes delightful noises.

But Sheldgoose finds thanks to the ring he was drawn to a styigan well leading to a talking staff... Felldrake surivived, if trapped in the staff.. and  he’s Baron’s ancestor, himself a sheldgoose who urges his decsendant to take the staff, accept his destiny and thus Sheldgoose revels in his new power as he and feldrake summon Feldrake’s loyal minon.  

So we end on Donald happy. His day was crappy to start.. but while he lost his house, his shrew and his job.. he’s found a new purpose saving the world, an ew life of adventure.. and forever friends in his two new amigos and goddess mentor. He’s finally happy. OR he is for a a second before Feldrake’s minon emerges from it’s sarcophagus and runs off with donald. TO BE CONTINUED. Not doing the jojo gag this time. 

 Before we go on one last cast member; Kevin Micheal Richardson is Felldrake, and he is unsuprisingly awesome and like Grey has a long and storied career.. you know the drill by now: He’s voiced  the Narrator for Clerks the Animated Series, Robert Hawkins (Static’s Dad), Dark Laser, Numbah 5′s dad who was a VERY poorly aged refrence to Bill Cosby, Mammoth, Trigon, Armagedddroid (Something I never realized holy shit good on him), Captain Gantu, The Joker, Pandabubba, Principal Lewis, Schnitzel, Tombstone, Omega Supreme, Cleavland Junior (They drove a dump truck full of money up to his house he’s not made of stone), Mal Duncan, Doctor Fate, Man Ape, Kilowogg, Sheriff Blubs, William Viceroy , Mr. Gus, Rhombulous, Shredder (TMNT 2012), Rosie Rosevelt, Coach Mitchell (Seriously watch Milo Murphy’s Law, we need a season 3), and Dot’s Zit. As you can tell the guy is VERY good at villians so he was a natural choice. 

Final Thoughts: This was a huge improvment. With the miserable parts of the pilot long gone this episode is a fun, breezy adventure that sets up our heroes, the series tone, and our bad guy some more while giving us tons of great gags. I highly look forward to whatever comes next and cannot wait for the next episode. Until then, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

[fletcherr]

hi ! i’m maren and i’m bad at intros ! and bios ! and things in general ! ... why am i here again ? uhm. anyway ! this is fletcher and uh ... he hates it here askdjfs like i can’t lie i’m so sorry but for the time being it’s ... lowkey the truth ? i’m writing this part of the post first so fingers crossed i manage to keep this short and to the point. if there’s no tldr it’s because this was supposed to be it. ( spoiler ; i failed. it’s so fucking long you literally do not have to read it i am so sorry. ) i’m super excited to be here and cannot wait to get to know you and your muses and be a part of this amazing group !!

THE APP !

˖ °╰ ⌜ [ MUSE TEN, ROBERT PATTINSON, 31, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ] hey, have you seen FLETCHER DUNCAN ? last time i saw them i think they were hanging around THE ROOFTOP. they can kind of be VEHEMENT but can also be pretty HAUGHTY. they’re often caught listening to SUPERSTAR SH*T - DOMINIC FIKE ! they also tend to remind me of cheap cigarettes put out in still half full glasses of rare bourbon, flipping off paparazzi, showing up to important meetings bleary-eyed and twenty minutes late, wearing sunglasses inside and black hoodies on the hottest day of summer, feeling uninspired for months then writing three albums worth of songs in two weeks ! let me know if you’ve seen them around, they’ve been working at the championship around FOUR MONTHS and they’re late for their shift !

THE BASICS !

full name: fletcher ralph duncan ( born fletcher ralph irvine )

nicknames: prefers fletcher, but is okay with fletch or duncan

date of birth: november 18th, 1989

gender: cis male

pronouns: he / him

height: 6′1

tattoos: some stupid ones without any deeper meaning to them on his arms and thighs, for sure

THE ( VERY ) IN - DEPTH ! tw for mentions of abuse of drugs and alcohol, terminal illness, hospitals, and death

after years of marriage, fletcher’s parents had him when they were both about to enter their forties, as one last, final attempt to find back to the love they’d had for each other when they started dating way back in high school. it didn’t work. his father left  when fletcher was four; leaving divorce papers on the kitchen table two weeks before christmas. him and his mother, winnie, moved from one of the suburbs to a smaller, more affordable apartment in brooklyn. they were never quite comfortable, money-wise, but they didn’t struggle either. two years after the move, his mother started seeing a guy she’d been introduced to through friends from work. fletcher adored richard from the first time they met, and as the years went by he came to consider him more of a dad than he ever did the one who left. that’s probably why he didn’t mourn when his father passed suddenly and unexpectedly the summer he turned ten. the following summer, winnie and richard married, and both her and fletcher completely rid themselves of the man who walked out on them when they both changed their last name from his to richard’s - duncan.

when richard moved in, he’d brought an electric guitar and a sparse record collection with him. these were fletcher’s first real introduction to music. he dove in head first. there’s no telling how many evenings they sat in the living room, records playing, or fletcher practicing on the guitar until he was caught up with his dad’s guitar skills. turns out, he was actually a bit of a natural. after he’d mastered his first instrument, he moved onto another. his mother - who’d been a classically trained, lifetimes ago - taught him to the best of her ability on a keyboard they got from a yard sale. he spent hours at a time in record stores. championship vinyl had always been richard’s favorite, and it wasn’t long until it was his favorite too. consuming music wasn’t enough, though. by the time he was in high school, fletcher was writing his own songs; creating his own music. of course - none of it was ever remotely up to par with the songs he kept discovering, but it didn’t matter. him and two kindred spirits he met at school formed a band, performing covers and the stuff he wrote. to afford actual gig gear - not that they ever booked many of those - fletcher applied for a part time job the only place he could think to; championship vinyl. though he'd been a regular for the better part of a decade by that time, he was still in disbelief and awe when he got the job.

fletcher thrived at championship. he took on all the shifts his schedule would allow him, and even skipped class to cover for anyone that asked. even when he was off the clock, he’d hang around. if he wasn’t flicking through new inventory or catching up with the whoever was at work, he’d be sitting on the rooftop with his guitar, a pen and a roll of receipt paper - scratching down song ideas and testing out new material. things were looking up; he was a creatively fulfilled high school senior with a job he loved, parents that supported- and loved him unconditionally, and he’d just been accepted into nyu. therefore, it rocked his world when his dad stopped by during one of his shifts, only to collapse while fletcher had his back turned to find a rare vinyl he’d set aside for him as a surprise. 

the diagnosis was a death sentence. months flew by in the blink of an eye, and he watched the only dad he’d ever truly known wither away before his eyes. weeks shy of a year to the date of the diagnosis, on the day richard duncan passed away, his son brought the old record player and the by now weathered records from the brooklyn apartment to the hospital room. he drew his last breath surrounded by the music and the family he loved.

not recently having gone through the same kind of world crumbling sorrow and the revelation about not wasting away and following your dreams that walks that’s bound to follow, his bandmates weren’t all that keen on the plan fletcher presented them with; movin to la and making it in music. really making it. with one of three members hellbent on leaving, the band broke up. they never could agree on a name, anyway. he turned in his resignation at championship, and jokingly promised james namsen to not come back until he’d won a grammy. winnie, though heartbroken to first lose the love of her life, and now having her son move away, had nothing but support and encouragement to offer when he announced he’d be dropping out of college to pursue music.

the first two years, nothing happened. he was living and working in downtown la; the apartment he shared with four roommates was just shy of being a shoebox, and the franchise record  store he eventually scored a job at lacked the soul and the hum of energy he was used to from championship back in new york. just as ambition and hope was wearing thin, things were starting to look up for him. he was meeting the right people in the right places, at the right times. after opening for a few up and coming acts, he was approached by a manager, who in turn introduced him to a few labels. though he was very aware he wasn’t a strong vocalist, he was confident in himself as a musician and a songwriter, and it seemed so was the internationally renowned label that ended up offering him a contract. his first single dropped not even a year later, soon followed by his debut album.

though his star was slowly rising, the album made only a miniscule splash. he toured it as an opening act and played a handful of shows on each coast. going back into the studio to work on the next album felt different. making the first one hadn’t felt authentic. not the process, nor the result. he’d been too agreeable; too eager to please and too eager to show he was worth everyone’s time and money. this time around, he was more assertive and demanded more control over the creative process. less co-writers were brought in, and he now had a say in which producers he worked with. his sophomore album released to generally positive reviews and ratings, but it seemed that would be it. then, almost over night, his shit was doing numbers. big numbers. 

sure - his label was running some promo for his sophomore album, but it seemed most people were catching wind of his stuff by word of mouth. people were actually buying his albums. both of them. when tickets to his second headline tour went on sale, they sold out in days. dates were added and venues were upgraded to answer the growing demand for tickets as more and more people found his music. he was playing famous venues now; legendary venues. festivals with hundreds of thousands of attendees. all over the country. all over the world. if he didn’t have a microphone or a guitar in his hand, he had a beer. or vodka. maybe whiskey. sometimes a joint, sometimes pills. he was at parties, then he was hosting parties. then he was at parties hosted in his honor. for the first time in his life, he had money. hard, real, fuck you money. he paid off the student loan he’d racked up during his one year stint at nyu, and the mortgage on the apartment he’d grown up in. he bought a house in beverly hills, and a two story apartment in brooklyn - both of which had shelves custom made for the gilded statuettes and trophies declaring him to be the best in a slew of categories. he’d done it. he was twenty-six and on top of the world. invincible. and then his mom's heart gave out.

for the three years that followed, his career suffered as he partied harder. friends he’d known for years disappeared, and were replaced with new faces that all blurred together. there were scandals, but they too were all a blur - leaked pictures and videos; shows he decided last minute he didn’t wanna do; shows he couldn’t do because he showed up too far gone to stand upright. people who got too close to him on one of the bad days, who’s faces he scarred forever. arrests, and settlements made outside of court. the label was getting antsy too, and when it passed the two year mark of the last time he’d set foot in the studio, his team - headed by the same manager that been with him through it all; that’d seen potential and believed in him all those years ago - pleaded with him to get help. begrudgingly, fletcher agreed. after a few months at rehab, he returned - clean, and determined to get back to work. the process was longwinded and intense, but the finished product was, in his eyes, solid gold. and - luckily? surprisingly? - the world at large agreed.

he toured the album with dates booked at relatively smaller venues this time around, but everywhere was packed full to the brim with people. throughout the time working on the album he’d been doing okay; staying sober and surrounding himself with good intentioned people. but being back on the road took a toll on him he hadn’t expected, and it didn’t take long for him to turn to alcohol when it was so easily accessible all around him, at all times. still, things were fine, and he was even relearning to appreciate the electric energy of performing live in front of an audience. to celebrate the last show of the us leg of the tour, the label threw an afterparty for the band, the team, the crew, and their friends. as people were starting to leaving the venue, fletcher sent some members of his band and a couple of their friends ahead with a key to his suite at a hotel nearby, while he thanked the label executives that’d been at the show. when he showed up, a glass was shoved into his hand, and as the party picked back up, someone got out the pills they’d kept at the bottom of their pocket all night. when offered, fletcher - on top of the world once more - accepted. 

someone snitched. and to the media, no less. when confronted by his team, he denied it. after being open about his struggle to overcome addiction, something like this would be damning for the reputation he’d rebuilt over the last two years. which is why he lied through his teeth. but then the videos from the suite appeared online, and his ruse was up. the rest of the tour was cancelled, and after completing a thirty day program, he was back in brooklyn.

it took some convincing, but he eventually went along with the ‘find back to your roots by returning to where it all started’ plan his team had cooked up. he also agreed to let someone else run his social media accounts for the time being. how his manager had gotten him a job at championship, fletcher didn’t know. he suspected a monthly bribe the size of his paycheck and then some was involved. but then again, he’d never known james namsen to be that kind of guy. for the first few weeks, he showed up for his shifts - sometimes on time, sometimes not - kept his head down, tried to engage with as few customers and co-workers as possible, then ditched as soon as he was off the clock. but there’d always been something special about the record store on the corner of bedford and sterling. soon enough, he began occasionally going up to the rooftop once his shift was over. approaching customers to offer his service before they approached him. show up early to catch up with whoever was working the shift before him. if he was having a particularly good day, he’d stop by to hang around even if he wasn’t on the schedule. he was well aware he wasn’t always easy to be around - years of living the high life and putting up walls having made him cynical, and standoffish, and discourteous. even if the boy he’d been when he walked out of there years ago was long gone, championship vinyl had stayed the same. and though fletcher’s yet to admit it, being back felt like being home. 

[artificialqueens]

Girls Interrupted, Chapter 2: She Wants To Dance Like Uma Thurman, But She Can’t (Vatya) 2/2 - Maeve

A/N: Hi, it’s Maeve here, and holy fuck this is long! Sorry for the wait, everyone, it’s been a real time. I’ll admit that I spent a lot of time collecting firsthand accounts of real teen parties because homegirl has never been to one of the cool kid ones. I feel no personal shame! I hope you all enjoy it. I’m a one woman show over here, but I’ve tried to be as accurate as possible with the characterization of the queens. There are some parts of this chapter that might be a little confusing, but that’s because the story is told through Katya’s eyes and she doesn’t always have all of the information. She will soon, though! As always, constructive criticism (really feedback of any kind) is welcome. If there’s interest, I’ll drop my sideblog one of these days. Here’s some petty teenage bullshit to take your mind off of the outside world.

What do normal people wear? What’s ‘in’ with the youths? Katya furrowed her brow. She grew out of following trends in middle school. The clothes weren’t her, and they didn’t magically assimilate her into a friend group either. So Katya was no manic pixie dream girl, more of a manic sexy carny And that was okay…most of the time. There would be a wide variety of teens at the party—Alaska ran in many different circles—but all of them had eyes, and Katya wasn’t about to make Alaska question her judgement over unironically worn Hawaiian print. She’d have to pass for artistically different. Dresses were risky, so Katya opted for a pair of skintight black denim shorts and a well-worn Warner Brothers Studios shirt. A good french tuck and a statement jacket were just enough to polish off her shabby-chic ensemble. It would have to be good enough.

Katya’s freshly washed hair had dried in loose waves that framed her face beautifully. Two things she refused to guilt herself into were shaving her legs and putting on makeup, and she wore her bangs down to hide the hairline she was so self-conscious about. It wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone. Katya had given up on that a long, long time ago. She glanced at the clock. It was only a few minutes past 6:00. Living in a constant state of perpetual anxiety was a real bitch.

Katya sighed, Wheel of Fortune and Diet Coke it is. Her parents were at the neighborhood’s annual Back to School Barbecue, so she had the entire house to herself. She hoped there would be a familiar face or two—or at the very least caffeine—at Alaska’s house.

Katya could hear the music coming from the inside of Alaska’s house through her massive front door. It was a hot and humid evening, yet Katya chose to linger in the yard. She wasn’t the first one there, and she wouldn’t be the last one, either; there was just something about crossing the solid oak barrier that made her presence…pressing. Awkward, even.

Alaska wouldn’t have invited you if she didn’t want you to be here, Katya reminded herself. She knew this was true—Alaska Honard was an absolute sweetheart—but her paranoia got the best of her. She pulled out her phone and sent a message to ‘Bianca del Realest’:

I’m outside. Walk me in? I don’t wanna know if pigs’ blood comes out of denim.

Her phone vibrated seconds later with a response from Bianca:

Pussy.

Soon, the door opened, revealing a smug Bianca del Rio. Katya grinned, “Yes, I do have a pussy, mama, and I’m serving fish all night.”

Bianca howled, “I don’t put things in me if I don’t know where they’ve been, and you’re a filthy whore.”

“You rotted cunt! That was a rash, not a herpes sore!” Katya protested.

“Just get your ass in here, Zamo, before the neighbors call the police to report a solicitor on the premises,” Bianca stepped aside so Katya could enter.

The first thing she saw was an ornately framed oil painting of Alaska and her family. It had to be at least her height. “Holy mother of pearl…” Katya gaped.

“Mother of Alaska, actually. Father and sister, too,” Bianca corrected. Katya gave her a shove. “What? I do this out of love, honey.” The blonde rolled her eyes. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Bianca grabbed hold of Katya’s arm and steered her towards the kitchen.

Alaska’s kitchen—which was a literal gourmet kitchen—was relatively empty save for an entire island of snacks and several coolers with drinks. She could still feel the thrum of the bass in her teeth, but the walls muffled the music’s full volume. What Katya found most shocking was actually who was in the kitchen. Trixie Mattel was leaning against the sink in a pair of light wash jeans and a flowing pink top.

Wow, Katya’s eyes went wide. She was in the same room as Trixie Mattel, about to be introduced by their apparently mutual friend, and she desperately needed to be able to pull herself together.

“Oh, honey, send in the clowns!” Trixie exclaimed, noticing Bianca’s return.

“I prefer to be called an erotic clown,” Bianca shot back. Katya snorted. “This is the creature I was telling you about.” Bianca gave Katya a small shove forward.

“Hi, I’m the chemical burn from the spiral perm, Trixie Mattel,” Trixie introduced herself extending a well-manicured hand. “I sit across from you in English, but we’ve never really talked.”

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova. But your dad just calls me Katya,” Katya winked and took Trixie’s hand, gently kissing her knuckles. Inside her head, Katya was screaming, Fuuuuuuuck. However, Trixie’s smile only grew. The life-sized Barbie doubled over with laughter.

Trixie turned to Bianca, “I’ll keep her!” Katya scrunched up her nose. She didn’t realize she was for sale.

“Just make sure to walk her often. She’s not house trained,” Bianca warned.

Katya wasn’t given the chance to retort because the door that connected the main room to the backyard flew open, and all three girls reached to cover their ears as Travis Scott’s voice grew three times as loud. An out-of-breath Jinkx Monsoon stood in the doorway, and her mouth began to move.

“What?” Bianca shouted over Sicko Mode.

Jinkx came further into the kitchen and screamed, “I said the hotshots just pulled up! If you don’t wanna get trampled, we should probab—”

“Bottoms up, bitches!” Willam shouted from somewhere in the hall. A cacophony of voices seemed to flood the space all at once, and then the kitchen was swarmed with all of the juniors on the cheer squad and football team. Hands and bodies were everywhere. Katya, standing at 5’1”, was swept away in the sea of future frat boys. Thankfully, the kitchen was only a stop on their route, and once the kitchen had been successfully raided, the four girls could get their bearings.

Jinkx straightened her dress. “Leave. I was going to say leave,” she finished her earlier thought and slumped against the kitchen island. “The real party’s out back. Now with added kegs.”

“Now, this I gotta see,” Bianca chuckled, “You in?” Katya shrugged and followed Bianca and Trixie past the horndogs sucking face in the living room and into Alaska’s massive backyard. She didn’t know what she’d gotten herself into, and she didn’t see it getting any better.

The glass doors let out onto a patio with a cabana and firepit. Stone steps led down to yet another seating area and a resort-style pool filled with floats, fountaints, and colored lights. There must’ve been at least a hundred people outside. She’d never seen so much illicit activity in one place. What was the word? Collusion? Collusion. Collusion vibes but not in a good way, Mama. We’re all going to hell, Katya swallowed thickly. The blonde was overwhelmed by the sweaty bodies, loud music, and flashing lights. Was this what a rave was like? The kegs by the pool were a happening place, and she planned to avoid them as much as possible.

When she looked to her right, she noticed Bianca had slipped away unnoticed, leaving her completely and utterly alone with one Trixie Mattel. Fuck. Again.

“Come get a drink with me!” Trixie insisted. She might not have been entirely comfortable alone with her crush, but tagging along was a significantly better option than hiding in a corner. The two pushed their way towards the booze. Trixie filled a red solo cup for Katya before grabbing one for herself and maneuvering them over to the poolside loveseat.

Katya’s drink felt awkward clutched in her hands. She knew that most highschoolers had experience with alcohol, but it was different watching her peers getting trashed. What’s the point? Katya wondered.

“That’s gonna get warm, you know?” Trixie snapped Katya out of her thoughts.

Katya gave her a sheepish smile, “I don’t really drink. Like at all. I just took it so you didn’t think I was lame.”

“Oh, honey,” Trixie began softly, “I would never judge you for something like that. Here, let me take that.” She made a grab for Katya’s cup, but Katya pulled it away.

“One sec!” Katya stuck two fingers of her free hand right into her beer and pulled them out. She saw the confusion on Trixie’s face and gave her a mischievous look. Katya took her beer fingers and wiped the alcohol across the pulse points on her neck. Playing it safe, she repeated the action until all the places she’d usual spray with perfume were sticky with beer. She was sure she smelled like a distillery. Perfect. Once again, Trixie made a grab for the cub, but another hand beat her to it. Alaska Honard in all her glory snatched it from Katya and drained its contents.

“Thanksss, Kati,” Alaska slurred. “Jus’ needed a lil’ liquid courage before I go on.” She swooped down to give Katya a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Alaska was sloshed. Her makeup was smudged she was swaying on her feet, and she smelled worse than Katya, who had just taken a bath in her beer.

“Go on what, Alaska?” Needless to say, Katya was a bit concerned. Because the two had done most of the work for their partner scene the previous class, Alaska and Katya were able to spend the day’s 3rd period chatting away. The demure girl from earlier was nowhere to be found. She was beginning to wonder if her friend had even processed her question when Alaska finally responded.

“‘M gonna be a star, Kati,” Alaska giggled. “Britney, bitch!” She then proceeded to fist up the fabric at the bottom of her dress and try to pull her black bodycon sequin gown up and over her body. Katya could only watch as she writhed around and made pitiful whining noises in her attempt to undress. “Off!” Alaska pouted, giving Katya her best puppy dog eyes.

Katya shared a look with Trixie before standing up and carefully spinning the blonde around. Her small hands were perfect for pulling down tiny zippers, and the dress slid down Alaska’s lithe body and pooled at her feet. Katya’s throat went dry.

Underneath her dress, Alaska wore a lacy, black strapless bra and a matching set of panties. Katya could not handle it. She didn’t mean to stare, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Soft, pale, flawless, Katya took in the beauty in front of her. Talk about body-ody-ody. Alaska was toned with the supple legs of a dancer—unfortunately, she lacked a dancer’s poise. Katya’s aneurism was cut short when the cheerleader stumbled trying to get out of the offending garment.

“Geez, Alaska,” Katya exclaimed, “Would you be more careful?”

“I may not be graceful…” Alaska trailed off, beginning to sway on her feet.

“I need my Lasky!” Detox shouted from the edge of the pool. Alaska visibly perked at her nickname and gave Katya a sloppy goodbye kiss on the cheek before teetering off towards Detox and Roy.

What the fuck? Katya raised her eyebrows. She turned to Trixie in search of an answer as to what just happened, but all the blonde had to offer was a shrug. Katya looked back to Rolaskatox and noticed a few pertinent details she’d missed in her first glance: Roxy and Detox were also in their skivvies, three chairs were now in a row on the bridge that separated the two halves of the pool, and the music had stopped.

Katya tried to do the math in her head: liquid courage + 3 scantily clad girls x 1 chair - Kendrick Lamar = ???? She had to be missing something. “‘I’m gonna be a star,’” Alaska had said…Fame = liquid courage + 3 scantily clad girls x 1 chair - Kendrick Lamar. Katya’s brows knit together. Some kind of performance? And then it hit her. “‘Britney, bitch,’”…They’re performing a Britney Spears number practically naked. Obviously the ideal way to spend a Friday night. Katya could think of no other explanation for the weird happenings of the last few minutes, but the answer she’d arrived at wasn’t any less of an acid trip.

The three girls took their places behind the chairs, and Roxy, who had at some point manifested a microphone, gave pearl a thumbs up.

“Where my party people at?” Roxy shouted into the microphone. Praise Putin for Pearl because the feedback on the mic might have made their ears bleed. The crowd around the pool hooted and hollered. Yuck, Katya gagged on the high school movie realness. “We’ve got a special treat for you tonight! Our little Lasky here,” Roxy pushed Alaska forward, “Didn’t think that she was going to make the varsity cheer team.” Alaska flushed at her friends divulgence and squirmed in her grip. Naturally, Roxy paid no attention to her friend’s discomfort, “So Toxy and I, we made a bet: if Lasky didn’t make varsity we’d have a Golden Girls marathon, but if she did…she’d have to show off her sweet moves at the Back-to-School Bash!”

“Hit it, Pearl!” Detox shouted. Roxy tossed the microphone to someone near the end of the walk, and the three girls took their places by their chairs. Alaska was clearly less thrilled about the performance than she was when she had been talking to Katya minutes ago. Liquid courage? No dice. The instrumental intro into Britney Spears’ “Toxic” began to play from the outdoor speakers, and Alaska’s gyrated her hips mechanically to the beat.

Baby, can’t you see

I’m calling

A guy like you should wear a warning

It’s dangerous, I’m falling

Katya was dumbfounded. Mouth agape, she wondered, Does this shit happen at all high school parties? Mother, I swear I’m sober. She hadn’t had anything to drink, so she couldn’t have been drugged or anything crazy like that. This was, in fact, happening. And Katya had thought she was fucking mental. A glance to her side told her that she wasn’t the only one questioning her sanity; Trixie’s eyes were bulging out of their sockets.

There’s no escape

I can’t wait

I need a hit, Baby, give me it

You’re dangerous, I’m lovin’ it

Dangerous. There was something sinister about the atmospheric red that bathed the trio and spilled into the audience. Her hands began to tremble. Brenda, not now, she willed herself to calm down.

Too high

Can’t come down

Losin’ my head, spinnin’ ‘round and 'round

Do you feel me now?

It wasn’t just her shaking, though. Alaska’s body was vibrating with tension—not ‘loving it’. Her sisters in scandal moved a lot smoother than she did, and she was concentrating hard on keeping herself from falling off of her chair. How much “‘liquid courage’” did this bitch have? The trio had gotten up on their chairs at the beginning of the chorus and were doing what looked like Christina Aguilera choreography circa Genie in a Bottle. Katya wouldn’t be surprised if Rotox had actually gotten the wrong blonde when choreographing. Katya frowned, Alaska, please don’t crack your head open.

With a taste of your lips I’m on a ride

You’re toxic I’m slippin’ under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I’m addicted to you

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

And I love what you do

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

She regained her breath when the chair acrobatics were finally over. The dance routine had evolved into what could probably qualify as softcore porn. Roxy, Alaska, and Detox were writhing on the platform in an obscene manner. Katya thought they looked like cats in heat. Alcoholic cats in heat. Which was actually quite a shame because real alcoholic cats in heat were something that Katya would totally like to see.

It’s getting late to give you up

I took a sip from my devil’s cup

Slowly, it’s taking over me

Too high, can’t come down

It’s in the air and it’s all around

Can you feel me now?

Britney Spears you are a cruel bitch, Katya chewed her lower lip. She was trying her hardest not to feel anything.

With a taste of your lips, I’m on a ride

You’re toxic, I’m slippin’ under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I’m addicted to you

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

And I love what you do

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

If she weren’t so put off by the course the night had taken and concerned for her friend, she might have been more than a little turned on. There was no denying that Alaska was attractive—even as she flopped about like a fish on a marble platter—but her mother raised her right. We do not objectify women, and we definitely do not allow others to take advantage of inebriated ones.

Taste of your lips, I’m on a ride

You’re toxic, I’m slippin’ under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I’m addicted to you

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

With a taste of your lips, I’m on a ride

You’re toxic, I’m slippin’ under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I’m addicted to you

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

Katya had to admit she was impressed. There really was no better way to draw attention to yourself than repeatedly slamming your pussy into the makeshift stage. It certainly seemed to be working now; she might just have to try it sometime.

Intoxicate me now

With your lovin’ now

I think I’m ready now

I think I’m ready now

Intoxicate me now

With your lovin’ now

I think I’m ready now

Roxy, Alaska, and Detox all struck their final poses. Katya could see their chests heaving wildly as they held for the raucous applause of the party guests standing poolside. It was certainly strange, but she couldn’t knock their performance. Kids would be kids, right? She was about to chalk it all up to a bit of harmless fun, after all, when tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber broke formation and pushed Alaska straight off of the platform. Suddenly, the tall blonde was in the water, limbs thrashing about in response to the sudden change in environment.

“Pool party!” Willam shouted, stripping off her own dress. Leave it to Willam to make a splash. Literally. For some reason the most inebriated of the guests decided that it was a fantastic idea to accidentally drown themselves instead of their sorrows. Soon, the pool was full of bodies and she could no longer keep track of her friend.

Alaska finally scampered to the steps with the stability of a newborn fawn. She all but fell out of the pool and took half of the water with her. Alaska’s mascara streaked down her cheeks, and her hair hung limp and matted. Roxy and Detox were nowhere to be found—either to help her clean up or to read her for filth. Coco Montrese and her longtime frenemy Miss Alyssa Edwards, however, were more than happy to fill in.

They sound like those brain dead hyenas from The Lion King, Katya snickered to herself. Maybe not that lady one, though. That bitch was fierce.

Alaska coughed up a mouthful of water right at their feet. “Hey, Coco,” She began, “Your makeup is terrible.” Coco wasn’t laughing anymore. Point Alaska.

“Have you seen yourself, mama?” Coco fired back, The blonde rolled her eyes and snatched the drink in Coco’s hand. Alaska tossed it back all in one go.

“Thanks,” Alaska drawled, tossing the empty cup back and wrapping herself in the first available towel.

Katya turned to Trixie with a question on her lips. “Does this happen often?” She asked. Trixie gave a low whistle.

“Pearl has dragged me to a lot of weird shit, but I think this might just be a first,” Trixie answered with gusto. She checked her watch, “And it’s not even 10:00! The night is still young, honey!”

Right, Katya thought, the night is still young. Just great.

Trixie soon ditched Katya for Pearl—something about the stupid pumpkin carriage coming to steal her friend after midnight—and Katya hadn’t known Trixie long enough to reasonably protest the abandonment. She hoped Bianca was somewhere inside the house.

There were still people in the living room, but it looked like the horny gremlins from earlier had finally gotten a room. Literally. Unfortunately, the cheerleaders that had taken their place were not much better. Head bitch Violet Chachki had her legs draped over one of the arms of a stately armchair in a carefree yet superior manner. Why anyone would want to be queen of the hot messes? Katya couldn’t tell you. But apparently power—or at least the perception of power—gave one Violet Chachki a raging hard on. Gag.

Bianca wasn’t in the room, but the blonde was determined to see her valiant quest through. Hopefully, she’d stumble upon a nunnery with some sexy ladies along the way. Sneaking past the wicked bitch of the west and her flying monkeys, she regrouped in the kitchen. Katya went down her mental checklist: Keys? Check. Assorted limbs? Check. Clothes? Check. Inhibitions? Check. Virtue? Debauched. Sanity? Remaining hopefully optimistic. Bianca? Still M.I.A. The kitchen was empty due to the commotion happening poolside. Chips crunched under the soles of Katya’s sneakers. That was another reason she didn’t enjoy being out in the general public for extended periods of time: bitches be nasty.

The second floor was significantly cleaner than the first. An entire floor of the Honards’ house was dedicated to entertainment. Katya knew that Alaska had an older sister, Nebraska, but she couldn’t fathom why any child—or two children for that matter—needed an entire floor to play. How could the rooms not feel so…empty? Katya wondered, shuddering involuntarily. The blonde couldn’t picture Alaska spending much time up here now. She felt as though she was looking at an abandoned playground and couldn’t help but think it made Alaska sad, too.

After a few moments, it became clear to Katya that Bianca wasn’t there, but she continued to linger on the landing. Her blue eyes were drawn to the set of stairs that would take her to the third floor. It was an idea for the pantheon of bad ideas; she was tempted nonetheless. Katya could hear her grandfather’s words in her head: ‘Curiosity killed the kitty, лисичка,’ What her Deda didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, I’m not that kind of pussy, am I? She justified.

Katya crept up to the dark third story of the house with the innocence of an intruder—she’d plead the fifth if necessary. The second door down from the landing was ominously open. Honestly, there may as well have been a big red arrow pointing towards the room because Katya’s feet were already carrying her towards it. Darkness engulfed the room, itself, save for a rectangle of warm light.

“Jinkxy, is that you?” Alaska groaned, presumably from the same direction as the light. “Jus’ leave the dress on the bed. Save the lecture for the morning.”

Katya cleared her throat, “Alaska? It’s Katya. Can I come in?” She received a grunt in response. The blonde followed the sound into what turned out to be Alaska’s master bathroom. Her friend was curled up against her marble tub with a beach towel wrapped around her.

“How was I, Kati?“ Alaska drawled.

Katya took a seat in front of her and pulled her legs to her chest. She thought for a moment before speaking, “80% sexy, 20% disgusting…like me.” Alaska whined. “Why are you still in your wet clothes?” She asked. Her friend shrugged. Right, Katya sighed. Alaska was half asleep; this wasn’t going to be a one woman job. Thankfully, Jinkx appeared moments later with her heels in one hand and Alaska’s little black dress in the other. Katya raised her hands in surrender. “I swear she was like this when I found her,” she blurted.

“This isn’t even the worst of it,” Jinx spoke candidly. She tossed her shoes onto the floor and pulled up her long, red hair. “I’ll wrangle the monkey if you go and find her some dry underwear and something to wear to bed.” Jinkx’s tone left no room for questioning.

Mother, I never thought I’d be a panty snatcher, much less an invited one, Katya made a face. Alaska’s dressers were easy to find, and she felt undeniably dirty as she began her game of panty roulette. Pulling open the first drawer, Katya sprang back, ready to strike. Assorted pajamas were hardly a foe, and she vanquished them swiftly. Rebel athleticwear laid in wait behind drawer number two. They, too, were no match for her feet of fury, Katya kicked the drawer shut with a battle cry.

“Katya, what the hell are you doing out there?” Jinkx called.

Katya had the dignity to look sheepish. “Nothing!” She shouted back. “Be there in a second!” The underwear turned out to be in the next drawer down. She thrust a hand inside without looking and tightened her grip on the first piece of fabric her hand found. Her feeling of triumph only lasted the few seconds it took for her to realize what she’d managed to retrieve: a lacy black teddy. Katya dropped the offending garment as if she’d been burned. I am going to hell, she shook her head, Straight to hell. I will not pass go, nor will I collect $100…Deuces never loses, right? The scarlet thong she fished out next begged to differ. Her face was almost as red as the fabric, itself, when she flung it across the room. Fortunately, the third time was the charm. The pastel pink boyshorts seemed like a more appropriate item to put on a drunk girl, so Katya returned to the bathroom to present her nightwear bounty to Jinkx.

The motherly redhead, unsurprisingly, was not impressed. Jinkx arched a brow expectantly.

“You see,” Katya began, “I wasn’t comfortable—I didn’t um feel right digging through her things without, you know, her permission?” She swallowed thickly. “So I thought maybe it would be less creepy if I just reached in and grabbed the first thing I touched. Well, you see, Alaska’s got such a wide range of tastes, and it-uh…It took a hot second to find something appropriate…for the…occasion?” She was expecting to find disgust when she raised her eyes to meet Jinkx’s, but the redhead cackled loudly instead.

“Lemme guess, you saw something you didn’t want to see?” Jinkx chortled. Katya managed a weak nod. “I’m sorry, doll, I forget that not everyone is as acquainted with Miss Honard’s unmentionables as little ol’ me.”

Not everyone is as acquain—Oh! Blue eyes threatened to burst from their sockets as Katya processed her words.  

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, not like that,” Jinkx exclaimed, reading the thoughts reflected on Katya’s face. “Lasky and I did community theater together. I’ve known her since the first grade. Drunk proof her nightstand for me? I’ll dress blondie over here.”

“Does this happen often?” Katya asked Jinkx after Alaska’s door was closed. The incapacitated cheerleader was finally sound asleep in her bed, and the two girls didn’t think she’d be up anytime soon.

Jinkx sighed sadly, “It didn’t use to. Roxy and Detox are more toxic than Drano, and there’s no one to stop her from going out with them. Look, Lasky’s a sweet girl. A good, smart girl. But she makes bad choices sometimes, and there’s nothing that I—that we—can do about it. She’s gotta be the one to say enough is enough.”

Katya understood. Katya understood more than she wanted to. She’d been a shell of a girl drowning in the voices in her head not too long ago. It didn’t matter how many hands reached out to her if she refused to take them. Alaska—happy and hopeful Alaska—might just be drowning, too. Katya wondered if she drank to impress, to keep up, or to forget.

Jinkx promised that she’d look over Alaska until the next morning, so Katya reluctantly chose to rejoin the land of the living downstairs. The first floor was significantly louder than it was when she left it. Games of flip cup and beer pong had picked up in the dining room, and Violet’s flock had not only grown, but had grown to include both Trixie and Bianca, who were trying their hardest not to laugh at the spectacle in the middle of the living area. Willam and Courtney were having a major bitchfest for all to see. Normally, Katya would run for the hills, but if Bianca and Trixie weren’t afraid of getting caught in the crossfire, she figured it was safe enough to stick around and tuned into the conversation.

“Your tone seems really pointed right now,” Willam pursed her lips. She was clearly the calmer of the two, as Courtney was beet red and positively radiating tension. Katya could tell Willam’s nonchalance was only winding the Australian up more.

Courtney folded her arms defensively. “Well, I’m sorry you think that, Willam,” she took a deep breath. “I feel like everything I say kinda comes from the heart, and I’m truly hurt that you threw yourself at Daniel when you knew how I felt about him.”

“Sorry ‘bout it,” Willam scoffed, picking at her nails. Her words reflected everything but the sentiment they were meant to.

Katya knew that Willam was a bitch, but this was a little much even for her. Willam and Courtney had been best friends since Courtney moved from Australia the summer of their freshman year; it was hard to believe that Willam would throw their relationship away. Katya held her breath. Everyone in the wings was uncomfortable during the pregnant pause. The scene before her was straight out of a 90s teen movie, and she didn’t have the popcorn to go with it.

All movement stilled when Willam finally looked up. “I tend to think emotions are for ugly people,” she deadpanned. The room let out a collective gasp. Courtney was across the room in a flash, and her palm made contact with Willam’s cheek. It would be logical to assume that Willam, who was just slapped across the face by her best friend, would be the most in shock at the sudden turn of events; it would also be the wrong conclusion. Courtney’s features were frozen in fear. The offending hand still hovered in the air, trembling like a leaf.

Willam was the first to react—and in a very uncharacteristic way. She engulfed the smaller girl in a tender hug. Courtney began to sob muffled apologies into her neck, and despite her obvious desire to recoil, Willam continued to hold her close.

Maybe Willam actually does have feelings, Katya’s eyebrows raised. The sight of Willam whispering words of reassurance into Courtney’s ear was enough to make even the coldest heart melt. Well, the coldest heart with the exception of Violet Chachki’s. Katya was pretty sure the stick up her ass was a permanent installment.

When the two pulled apart minutes later with smiles on their faces, they were met with a round of applause. Courtney wiped at her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. If she noticed Willam’s arm around her waist, she didn’t give any indication as she addressed the spectators that had gathered, “Well, I’m gonna need to be less sober before I spill any more about myself. Truth or drink, anyone?”

Truth or drink? No thanks, Katya turned to sneak out. Unfortunately, Bianca had also chosen that exact moment to glance in her direction, and Katya was caught in the act.

“Bitch, you can’t leave yet. It’s not even midnight!” Bianca half whispered, half hissed.

And Bianca doesn’t associate with losers, Katya reminded herself. Don’t be a loser. “If my locker gets filled with worms next week, I will personally marinate you like a chicken,” she promised her friend.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. Blame it on Bianca Del Rio. Take a number, sweetheart, you’re holding up the line,” Bianca patted the space next to her on the floor.

Laganja had batted her eyelashes—and used her mouth—to coerce one of the mindless jocks to bring in one of the kegs from outside for their “slumber party secret sesh”. There were fifteen girls, including Katya, who stuck around for the potentially risky game, and Katya wasn’t thrilled to be playing with most of them. Adore finished off her beer and placed the empty bottle in the center of the circle.

“Party!” Adore shouted before giving the bottle a good spin. Around, and around, and around it went before coming to a stop at Coco’s feet. “Miss Coco Montrese, truth or dare?” She asked.

“I’ll pick truth, mama,” Coco answered.

Adore thought for a moment before speaking, “Are you afraid that you’ll always be the runner up?” There was a chorus of oohs. Everyone knew that the race for junior varsity squad captain their sophomore year was a sore spot for both girls. It was no secret that Alyssa was originally chosen to be captain by her teammates. However, when she became implicated in a cheating scandal, Coach Calhoun was forced to denounce her and give Coco, Alyssa’s best friend and the candidate to receive the second most votes, the position. To make matters worse, it was rumored that Coco was the one who suggested that Alyssa had committed academic dishonesty in the first place. Alyssa and Coco had patched up their friendship over the course of the last year, but there was no telling whether or not the structure would hold if tested.

“Out of respect for me and Miss Alyssa, I am going to drink,” Coco responded without hesitance. Adore poured her a shot, and Alyssa gave her hand a grateful squeeze as she tossed it back. “Ain’t no use bringing up what’s past.”

Coco spun the bottle next, and it chose Trixie as its victim. “Truth or dare?” Coco asked.

“I think I’ll pick dare?” Trixie responded with hesitance. Katya didn’t know much about Coco Montrese, but for Trixie’s sake she hoped Coco was one of the nice ones.

Said cheerleader gave Trixie a small and genuine smile, “Okay, mama, I dare you to let Miss Pearl over here do your makeup. Something has got to be done because you aren’t doing a pretty girl like yourself any favors.” The reactions to Coco’s dare for Trixie were mixed. Some of the she-demons tried and failed to hide their amused laughs, Pearl’s eyes opened fully, Violet’s grip on her chair tightened, and Trixie seemed to be not entirely opposed to the idea.

“Pearlie girl,” Trixie began, standing up and crossing to her best friend on the opposite side of the circle, “Treat my face like a princess and then fuck it like a slut.” The life-sized Barbie batted her eyelashes animatedly, earning her a laugh from pearl and a glare from Violet. The ice queen’s elevated irritability prompted Katya to reconsider her previous assessments—maybe it was an entire branch up her ass.

When Pearl and Trixie left, there was a void that seemed to swallow Violet whole. The physical space around her remained largely unchanged, but Katya could feel the emptiness that moved to fill the space Pearl left. And for the first time it occurred to her that Violet Chachki might be alone. I guess there might be some truth to the saying, she mused. After all, if you’re at the top, how can anyone else be? When you stripped away the glitter, the makeup, the clothes, you were left with a girl—albeit an arrogant, entitled, straight up cunt—plain and simple.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown, huh?” Bianca nudged Katya’s arm, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“What?” Katya asked. Had she missed something while she was contemplating the character of Violet Chachki?

Bianca chuckled, “You’ve been staring at Chachki since Trixie and Pearl left.” The blonde feigned innocence. “You know how I feel about that 48 Hours show, Zamo. Share with the class before your peanut brain short circuits.”

“What’s her problem?” Katya whispered. “I mean, aside from her general disdain for anything that has a pulse and moves.”

“With Trixie?” Bianca confirmed. Katya nodded. “Oh, this is old news. Her Royal Hardass doesn’t share, but Sleeping Beauty’s got a soft spot for one Trixie Mattel.”

The dots aligned in Katya’s head once again. “Violet’s the pumpkin carriage!” She whisper-shouted.

“Bitch, that was not English,” Bianca snarked, “You been hanging around with Jose Cuervo?”

Katya rolled her eyes at her friend’s question, “I have ninety-nine problems, and substance abuse won’t be one of them if I have anything to say about it.” She turned back to the circle just in time to see the neck of the bottle stop on Bianca, who didn’t even flinch. Katya was secretly proud; her friend had bigger balls than most of the ‘macho men’ at the party—this was going to be interesting. Since Trixie had gone upstairs to get her face redone, Detox decided that she would be the brave volunteer to issue the next truth or dare.

“Bianca, truth or dare?” Detox asked smugly. Katya couldn’t guess which one would be worse. Unsurprisingly, Bianca chose dare. “I dare you to ask Max for his number.” There was, again, a chorus of oohs, and it was Bianca’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Really, bitch?” Bianca asked. She stood up and righted her denim shorts before striding over to the meatheads playing beer pong with a clear purpose and her head held high.

Because Bianca could run with the boys, no one batted an eye—unless she wanted them to. She hoisted herself up onto the pool table in front of Max and held out an upturned palm. They were too far away to make out their conversation, and Katya was a terrible lip reader at best, but she could picture how the exchange would go down:

“Gimme ya’ numbah, beefstick,” She imitated Bianca in her head. The 1920s gangster voice was a bold choice, but she wasn’t going to mock it just yet.

“D’uhh…okay,” Fake Max droned.

The blonde chuckled to herself as the real Max stuck a fist in the pockets of his jeans and fished around. Finally, he produced what looked like a wadded up gum wrapper and snagged a pen from his pal, presumably jotting down his number. Bianca hastily took the offering and sashayed back to the group of girls. She dropped the wrapper in Detox’s lap before taking her seat by Katya.

While the hens squawked over her success, Bianca leaned over to Katya and whispered, “Never let a bitch see you sweat.” Katya had so many questions, but she wouldn’t be able to ask them until later. It was Bianca’s turn to spin the bottle, and Adore, unsurprisingly, chose truth when landed on.

“Adore, which girl on the squad is the skunkiest?” Bianca waggled her thick, black brows. Because she was the mascot and didn’t change in the locker room, she genuinely had no idea how rank the girls smelled after practice or a game. Sue her; she was curious. What Bianca also didn’t know was that the question had a definitive answer, and that answer would do damage far beyond her intent to poke a little harmless and innocent fun at one of the girls.

Even completely sloshed, Adore recognized the gravity of the question. “Fuck! If I drink any more, I’m gonna be sick,” Adore groaned. Her teammates looked at her with pity in their eyes.

“Yeah but it’s not like anyone’s ever died from drinking too much!” Laganja came to her rescue, topping off her cup, “What’s one more?” Adore could only offer her a weak smile.

“Uh, I think I’m just gonna spin the thing now…For everyone’s sake,” Adore informed the group. The bottle landed on Gia, and she picked dare.

The turns only seemed to bleed together as time went on. After Gia drank from the toilet, Roxy refused to reveal her weight. Laganja told her dad she was eloping in Vegas, and when she spun the bottle it landed on Violet. Because ladies don’t kiss and tell, the brunette tossed one back instead of revealing the number of sexual partners she’s had. Alyssa confessed that she was afraid she would never achieve her dream of owning her own dance studio. Courtney shared that she’d never been in love, and Willam exposed her entire browser history, telling Katya a lot more than she wanted to know about the girl. For obvious reasons, Joslyn refused to eat a raw egg. Detox followed by removing Adore’s socks with her teeth. Katya played it safe and suggested that Bianca would be a bad date because she’s insulting people all the time before daring Gia to reveal any childhood nickname she had. Things didn’t start going downhill until the bottle landed on Violet a second time.

“Violet,” Gia cooed, “Truth or dare?”.

“Truth,” Violet answered with an unreadable expression.

Gia thought for a moment before asking the first truly problematic question of the night, “Who in this room do you like the least?”

Ruh-roh, Katya winced.

Violet didn’t waste a moment before answering, “Willam.” There was a collective gasp across the room. Willam, on her part, didn’t seem to be phased in the slightest. Then again, you could never really read Willam Belli.

Pearl and Trixie returned, arm in arm, before Violet could spin the bottle. Katya’s jaw—along with all the other girls’—dropped. Trixie looked gorgeous. Pearl reclaimed her seat next to Violet, much to the cheerleader’s delight, but brought Trixie with her. At the group’s insistence, Trixie was allowed to take the turn that she missed, and Detox was dared to call a random number in her phone and deliver the worst pickup line she could think of. Katya was glad for the change in the room’s atmosphere after Violet’s confession until Detox took her turn. After the call, Detox dared Violet to spend the next hour trapped in a bathroom with another girl from the circle chosen at random. Anyone who didn’t know Detox might think she was trying to create a seven minutes in heaven type deal, but even Katya could pick up on her intent to stir up trouble. She pitied the poor soul who ended up stuck in there.

Of course that poor soul ended up being her, and she wasn’t about to pussy out in front of the most popular girls in school. Peer pressure was a bitch. Judge, jury, and executioner had all decided it was her time, and she accepted that; she just wished her death march had a better soundtrack. Katya would be cooped up in one of the Honards’ bathrooms with a less than pleasant—soon to be considerably more less than pleasant—Violet Chachki. She was going to punch Detox in her stupid mouth.

Katya entered the bathroom the same way she’d rip off a band-aid: quickly and without much thought for the immediate consequences. Violet, who was perched on the bathroom counter, had been engrossed in her phone when the door swung open to reveal the one girl that she just couldn’t seem to get away from. Unsurprisingly, the cheerleader wasn’t thrilled.

“Really, bitch?” Violet griped, giving Katya a once over. It wasn’t like the situation was ideal for either of them.

Katya put her hands on her hips, “You know what you can suck? My whole dick.” She unenthusiastically plunked herself down against the wall opposite of the door. “We’ve got two options, Chachki, we can either suck it up and spend the next hour in here in silence, or we can French a little.” Violet was aghast at her words. If Katya were a proper woman, she might have been able to hold in the cackling fit prompted by the girl’s scandalized reaction. Violet wasn’t impressed with her wheezing, either. Katya finally calmed down and attempted to explain herself, “Sorry, I could have been more clear, but your reaction was priceless.” She wiped at her eyes. “Thanks. I needed that. Detox said she was “‘feeling generous,’”  and if we so choose, we can suck face and then get the hell out of Dodge.” Violet sneered, and Katya wondered if it was with anger or disgust; she didn’t know which one was better.

“As fucking if,” Violet scoffed, clearly feeling as though Detox’s so-called coup de grâce was more of a personal attack.

“Well, I don’t see anyone lining up to get the kiss of the spider woman, either,” Katya observed. “I told you that you weren’t going to like it.” The cheerleader exhaled sharply, and she was surprised not to see steam come out of her flared nostrils.

Violet pursed her lips, “Just shut up and stay on your side of the room.” With that, Violet returned her attention to her phone, but Katya didn’t fail to notice that her expression didn’t soften. If Katya weren’t trapped in the room with her, she’d probably find Violet’s situation hilarious.

Katya had made the mistake of leaving her jacket—and consequentially, her phone—on the coat rack in the hall. Call her old fashioned, but it was a force of habit. Besides, she didn’t need her phone because Bianca was supposed to be there to pull her out of trouble if it arose. But are we really surprised to find ourselves here? Katya asked herself. No. Not at all. At least she found herself entertaining. Hoping to bring forth inspiration, she laid back on the floor, let her gaze unfocus, and tried to lose herself in the plain ceiling. Katya didn’t know how long she’d been drifting for when Violet’s voice shattered the silence.

“Fuck!” Violet cursed, and the sound of hard plastic hitting the floor made Katya’s whole body go rigid. She squeezed her eyes shut. I am not going to be equipped to handle this, Katya bristled. Maybe if I just keep my eyes closed, I can fall asleep. It seemed like a feasible plan until she heard the first sniffle. Of course I find out she has feelings when I’m stuck in a room with her, the blonde facepalmed inwardly. Why today, of all days, to be railed in the ass by life? Her left eye opened first, searching for any signs of danger before being followed by her right eye.

“I knew you didn’t like me Chachki, but I didn’t think you found me this repulsive,” Katya spoke. “Quite frankly, it’s offensive.”

“Fuck you,” Violet spat, but the usual venom in her voice was gone. Katya propped herself back up against the wall to get a better look at the girl on the counter. Her attention was unwanted, and Violet turned towards the door with a huff.

Clearly comedic relief wasn’t the answer. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Katya tried again. No response. The girl’s side profile was growing red and blotchy, and Katya had sent her mom enough photos of her crying to know that Violet was trying and failing to stifle an emotional response. Go figure. “I won’t tell anyone if you cry, you know?” She said softly. “Bottling it up is just gonna make you feel shittier than you do now.”

“Do you think I’m a goddamn idiot?” Violet barked. She wiped furiously at her eyes before whirling around in an attempt to intimidate the blonde. “Better make your fifteen minutes last.”

Katya was genuinely taken aback. Does this bitch really think I’m in on this? She shook her head incredulously. Her airhead friends would literally eat me alive, and I’m pretty sure I haven’t given her any reason to think that I’m faker than Malibu Barbie. If I were made of plastic, why in the hell would I keep my hands this small? “Are we really back on this bullshit, Violet?” Katya snapped. “I’m sorry you think that the universe revolves around you. I hate to burst your bubble, but I have better things to do than conspire against you with your teammates over scones. Get over yourself, Princess.” In her head, Katya blew the smoke from the pistols in her hands. Call me perestroika, Mother, for I am reforming problematic practices, she hooted.

“Whatever,” Violet grumbled. Katya, on the other hand, wasn’t willing to let this go; some conversation was better than nothing.

“How’s the back?” The blonde inquired and was pleasantly surprised when Violet outright snorted at the shift in conversation. Katya took her in as she threw her head back in laughter. There was something about this Violet—the unguarded and natural Violet—that captivated her. Violet’s eyes crinkled, and she clasped a hand over her mouth in a flimsy attempt to stifle the noises she was making. It was frustratingly endearing.

Violet cleared her throat before answering, “Fucked. I’m considering outlawing acrylics on the squad. That shit’s not even practical for a cheerleader, and it’s hurting like a bitch to corset.”

“You’re wearing a corset?” Katya gasped. For the first time that night, she took all of Violet in. She wore a nude illusion dress with a loose black lattice pattern. It covered just a little more than her ass and was cinched at the waist with a rocker belt, squeezing her in a way that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. How in the world do you hide a corset under that? Katya wondered. In addition to the dress, she donned thigh high, slick black boots and a thick, black leather choker that looked more like a collar. Hot damn, Katya could n e v e r, and she knew it. She finally composed herself, “First of all, you’re literally a cheerleader with a body to die for. Second of all, why wear something that hurts you?”

The cheerleader didn’t even seem phased by the inquiries, almost like she’d dealt with them hundreds of times before, “Pain is beauty, and I’m the prettiest.” Katya couldn’t argue there. Violet was beautiful, but she still thought her ideology was questionable.

“So what actually happened at the pep rally? We all saw you fall, but I’ll believe it was your fault when the garden is full of ducks holding pastry in their hands. You’re too much of a hardass.”

Violet raised her eyebrows, as if daring Katya to say it again, “I will let that slide only because it’s technically a compliment. And you’d be correct; I am a professional, unlike others. You’d do well to take note: one of my biggest pet peeves is when people don’t take the things I love as seriously as I do. I accept nothing less than perfection.”

“That must be lonely,” Katya couldn’t stop the words from spilling from her mouth. “You know, having such high standards? Does anyone ever make the cut?” Opening her mouth was clearly a mistake because Violet seemed to shut down all at once.

“What do you know about how I feel?” Violet fired back, crossing her arms over her chest.

Keep digging yourself deeper, why don’t ya? Katya shook her head. She needed to tread carefully. It was a miracle that she had even been having a civil conversation with Violet in the first place, and she didn’t want to ruin the progress they had made. “I know that you work harder than anyone else on that squad, and nobody gives you credit or appreciates you for it,” Katya began. “I know that people are fast to discredit your talent because of how young you are. I know that you’re waiting for the day those bitches stop hoping that you’ll screw up or get hurt, the day you can finally stop looking over your shoulder, the day that you no longer have to prove yourself. I know that you’re tired of fighting tooth and nail for the respect that you’ll probably never earn, and I know it’s fucking hard for you to pretend that your peers aren’t harboring resentment towards you. I know that at night you try to wash it all away because you’re still holding out hope that it will all be worth it in the end. Cheer and theatre aren’t that different. It was obvious in the gym, and it’s obvious now.” Katya took a deep breath. Maybe she’d been thinking a little more about Violet that afternoon than she’d like to admit. She hadn’t meant to go off on a tangent like that, but she certainly didn’t regret what she said. Based on Violet’s reaction, however, maybe she should have. The brunette’s hands were clenched into tight fists at her sides, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. Katya tried to backtrack, “Violet I—”

Katya was cut off by the bathroom door swinging open. Pearl, who stood oblivious on the other side, immediately noticed the state of her friend. “Vi?” Pearl approached her hesitantly. Violet’s gaze didn’t move from the floor. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.” She moved to lift Violet’s chin up, but Violet recoiled from her touch.

“Don’t touch me!” Violet shouted, her voice almost frantic. Katya’s eyes darted from one girl to the other. Pearl, who was visibly shocked by her reaction, looked hurt, which was very uncharacteristic for the mellow girl. Katya, herself, had never seen anything but characteristic nonchalance reflected on Pearl’s face, and the change made her uneasy.

Pearl took a reluctant step forward and spoke in a whisper, “Violet, did something happen? You know you can tell me anything.”

“Is that the truth, Pearl?” The brunette questioned. “Because clearly I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”

Pearl shook her head in frustration. “Cut the crap, Vi,” She demanded, “You’re literally my best friend, and—”

“Bullshit!” Violet interrupted. “I call motherfucking bullshit!” Both girls were standing now with less than a foot between them, the situation escalating by the second, and Katya was stuck in the middle of it. She tried to push her back further into the solid wall behind her, but there was nowhere for her to go. Fuck me! Katya grimaced. Why is Toxic so damn appropriate right now?

“What the hell, Violet?” Pearl shouted back. “God, you’re fucking impossible.”

“Fuck you, Pearl!” Violet pushed Pearl, and the blonde hit the wall with a dull thud. “Fuck you! You and I are done! You hear me? Done! Save your goddamn lies for that pathetic dress up doll. I never want to see you again.” With a huff, Violet stormed out of the bathroom, leaving an uncomfortable Katya and a drained Pearl alone. What the fuck just happened? Katya tried and failed to process the encounter.

She was caught off guard when Pearl finally acknowledged her presence. “Forecast predicts drinking to forget,” Pearl deadpanned, nodding her head towards the door Violet had just stormed through. “Want in?” Katya shook her head furiously. Getting piss drunk with those two would be like making smalltalk with a Molotov cocktail. She’d pass. She’d pass hard. Pearl seemed to understand. “It’s flazéda or whatever,” The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “Just do me a solid and remind me to fuck with Willam’s weed on Monday.”

Katya didn’t know what “‘flazéda’” meant, or the why and how of Pearl tampering with Willam’s weed, but the questions weren’t enough to persuade her to stick around the party longer. When Pearl left, Katya made a run for the Honards’ front door. She grabbed her jacket before taking off down the street. The blonde didn’t stop until she could no longer hear the music pulsing from the house. Her phone buzzed in her pocket with a text from ‘Bianca del Realest’:

Bitch, where are you?

What the fuck happened in there?

Earth to Yekaterina?

Katya sighed and pocketed the phone again. She’d call her when she got home. That would buy her some more time to put the experience into words…and to decide just how much information she should share.

The drive home from the Honards’ was quiet—too quiet. Music normally made being in the car enjoyable, but there was something about the night that didn’t allow Björk to keep her out of her own head. It didn’t feel real, and that terrified the shit out of her. Life was monotonous, life was mundane, life was one of those stupid time loop movies where you had to learn from your mistakes over time and find out what was important in the stupid haystack of chaos. Violet Chachki and her ex best friend potentially ex best friend were not supposed to have the Chernobyl of all relationship meltdowns in Alaska Honard’s guest bathroom right in front of her. Katya didn’t know who opened this tragic can of worms, but when she found them, she was going to slap a bitch silly.

[aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaoldretired]

uh working on cosplans? i fully wasn’t intending on cosplaying at all but the bug has bit me. idk i love character design and am always on like costume/set design for plays/films i do so it feels natural. i also am glad that we’re moving away from like exact cosplays? and towards original twists? that was also something always holding me back was fear of criticism for changing canon. 

also i fully didn’t mean for all of my cosplans to be alt fashion but that’s ok

CURRENT:

- LEON KUWATA:  i impulse bought a leon kuwata wig/beard set on like super sale from a cosplayer who retired the look, im like v excited but also kinda nervous bc that’s a really big statement out of the gate. might be a lill out of my comfort zone? idk he’s also one where there’s so many details he might take a while to get right. ive been researching a lot of like british punk fashion for him and am probably going to adapt his outfit to fit more retro punk than the pop-punk look he had in the game. it’s actually really cool i’ve been finding a lot of reference pics with like hair and beards exactly like his styled in cool ways so i feel like i can actually do a lot with him there. and the makeup is gonna be a BLAST. he deserves the world. my punk boy.

- MAE BOROWSKI:  mae is my comfort character i love everythign about her and want to get her right. i’m really being inspired by current e-fashion for her, especially in hair and top situation. most people do a pixie cut but idk i want to do a bob with like the middle split bangs and i plan to dye those red a la tiktok trends. im also deciding between adding actual navy cat ears to the hair or to do like a cat beanie. might be leaning towards cat beanie tbh. as for the outfit im trying to find a turtleneck and big tshirt i can layer on top, and i knowwww she has pants but i wanna give her hunter green shorts.  ALSO im rlly excited bc i am going. to stick. a hello kitty bandaid. on her face. and ive been having a lot of fun thinking up makeup looks for her.

- KIM PINES: ok so scott pilgrim hipster/punk scene in toronto but what if i told you im gonna be making her less punk and more like alt-preppy. im basing her outfit heavily off the concept art of the zipup yellow polo and pleated prop green and yellow skirt. also gonna get some barrettes and that jelly choker. i want her to be more alt than punk, but if anyone says she looks preppy she can rip you fucking throat out. and that’s that.

IDEAS FOR LATER: 

- PRINCESS DAISY: ok this one is gonna be wayyy far down the road but i found these adorable daisy/peach inspired aprons and i realized i could do a really cute 50s daisy. swing dress, kitten heels, petticoat, big earrings, the whole 9 yards. it woudl be so cute but lowkey elaborate

- if i were to do more danganronpa characters it would be maybe chiaki, kazuichi or maybeee himiko. 

- i’m also thinking about princess carolyn down the road. 

- i could probably do am easy almost-closet cosplay of juno if i get the wig. 

i’m like kinda weird where i only want to cosplay characters i a) connect emotionally with and b) would feel ok doing their outfit i know myself well enough i would be self conscious otherwise. maybe ill grow out of it soon idk but that’s me rn.

[big-bad-skull-boss]

Team Skull + Video Games

idk why this came to mind but here we go

Grunts:

When you run away from home, the first thing you think of isn’t “lemme pack the xbox real quick”. The grunts if anything, have handhelds, anything ranging from a gameboy to a scrappy old 2011 3DS with scuffs and maybe a dodgy button or control stick here or there, couple of dead pixels, and no money to get it repaired. MAYBE an old Wii or Gamecube, cause what kid is gonna fuck off and NOT take their Gamecube? Mario sunshine is FIRE (so yeah, theres probably a Gamecube somewhere in the mansion but it’s not in use)

Team Skull’s Grunts are notorious for vandalizing property and stealing shit that don’t belong to them, so any local game stores are reluctant to let them in.

Since Plumeria is such a pushover to her little siblings, Since Plumeria is so nice, she tucks in her skull medallion and lets her hair down to stuff it in a bandanna so that the store owners let her in, and she dons her Nice Face™ to go get games for the grunts once they give her the money, though this is a privilege, so if they piss her off, they get cut off from their supply.

There’s one old, battered Xbox 360 stashed in the closet. No faceplate, gotta use a pen or something to turn it on and the side has a crack covering the whole area after one of Guzma’s outbursts. The stupid thing overheats in the summer so its out of use for most of the year when it’s too hot. The only thing it’s used for anymore is Minecraft. The old 360 version doesnt update anymore, but that don’t mean there aint a couple worlds on there. The grunts on their off time (which is like, most days) will get out the 360 and boot up minecraft. That’s the one world that Guzma isn’t allowed in. He’s got his own.

(woah look at that fuckin segway)

Guzma:

Guzma’s Minecraft world is OLD, like... OLD bitch. Shits seen a couple birthdays. Plumeria had got the console from some guy on the street, giving shit away that he didnt need, basically a yard sale but everything was free. A take it if you want it and it’s yours kinda deal. Came with a couple controllers and a small group of games.

Guz’s world is a fuckin hot mess. Holes everywhere, he’s crap at building, looks like a 12 year old made everything. You bet your ass that he went into creative one time and just filled a chest full of TNT once he found out it existed. Grunts can join the game, sure, but the amount of small starter houses lying around that got blown up because they got pranked by the boss and fell victim to his stash of TNT is uncountable. Plumeria’s got a house too in that world, just like in the grunts’ one, but she’s hardly on the game since she has other things she prefers to do more often. Despite that, if Guzma dares TOUCH her fucking house she will pay him back double, be it in the game or in person. Guzma is the only one who would dare test her, so she doesn’t need to worry about the grunts messing with her stuff.

He doesn’t play FPS shooters anymore, because the other games that came with the xbox were Halo games. Those halo games are why theres a massive fuck off crack and no faceplate on the console. Also one time one of the original controllers went out the window, so there was a lot of 1 player gaming until they could afford another as a replacement. Now Guzma sticks to games he can either win or just fuck about in.

The Wii U in the mansion Guzma picked up for cheap at some yard sale (probably because the owner was thinking “what the fuck is the boss of Team Skull doing in my front yard please get off my property here take it please dont smash in my windows”). Needless to say, that was probably the biggest score of pretty much that whole year. I mean, if your first reaction to a 6′5, intimidating gang boss in your yard isn’t “just fucking take the console” or “hot” then your brain probably aint wired right. Guzma is the undisputed king of Mario Kart. He’s always the one with the gamepad because fuck everyone else. He gets to spy everyone’s items and thats it. No fucker else.

Plumeria usually nudges the grunts to lay off if they constantly place ahead of the boss, mostly for everyone’s sake, but mostly for that of the fucking money pot. she aint spending money on a new Wii U gamepad. She’s surprised the original one has lasted this long.

Plumeria:

Has over 1000 hours in animal crossing on DS. She also plays that brain training game that every mom owned back in like 2006. She plays casual games to keep sane. I mean, if she didn’t, she’d have blown this house up and moved to Kanto by now.

She also has Nintendogs, which she at one point found out that she had that in common with one of the girl grunts and so every week without fail, the two of them get together and give each other gifts and play with their dogs together.

(Sidenote: would nintendogs be pokemon dogs? Lillipup & friends, Poochyena & friends; Rockruff & friends, etc.)

part 2 might come later if i feel like it

[alice1290]

Read All About It - An Ace/OC fanfic Chapter 5

Those NSFW bits are closer to the end, way below the cut. ;) 

~

The streets below were busy, filled with people shopping and traveling. The noise was dulled in the second story hotel room. It was the designated meeting spot located in one of the groves more frequently visited by the unsavory sort of travelers. Koala was the one who relayed the message over the transponder snail two afternoons ago. Who would be meeting her at the rendezvous point was unknown.

While she waited for her partner to arrive she wasted time wandering the groves of Sabaody or restlessly sleeping on top of the bed. She did her best to keep herself occupied and her mind away from Portgas D Ace. She already missed Ace’s warmth at night. After more than a month of sleeping with the fire man every night, she longed for the warmth of his strong body while lying in bed alone. It was going to be an adjustment getting used to not having him in her bed each night. They’d only had sex the once, and while it had been mind-blowingly fabulous, Ashina enjoyed the different intimacy they shared truly sleeping together.

She missed his smile, his infectious laughter, the way they gravitated toward each other. Koala said she had a crush, Ashina knew she had a problem. Her problem lied in the fact that she wanted to go back to Ace, she wanted to spend more days with him, see more islands, go on adventures and fight beside him, but she couldn’t. Her loyalty was to the Revolutionary Army, to Dragon. She had a dream, and a goal, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she could still achieve her dream if she sailed with Ace. Despite wanting to become the Pirate King, he shared many of the same views and ideals with her as well as a strong dislike for the Nobles and World Government.

It was late afternoon on the third day. Ace would be departing at some point soon if they had found a coating mechanic quickly. Her partner would arrive at any moment, and then she would be gone too. Only, she felt as if she was going in the wrong direction.

Ashina twirled around, brought out of her thoughts, when the doorknob turned and clicked open. The young man that entered the room was tall and broad shouldered, with wavy hair that brushed his jaw. His signature tophat in place.

“Sabo!”

He opened his arms as she jumped into his chest.

“Hi ya, Red!” Sabo’s strong arms tightened around her middle and he lifted her off her feet. “I’ve missed you. Koala gushed all about your adventures with Ace.”

Ashina answered as he set her on her feet. “Sabo, you should see him! They’re having the ship coated, he should still be here! Tell him that you remember him and that you’re alive!”

Sabo shook his head and gave her a small smile. “It’s not time yet.”

Ashina sighed, her shoulders visibly sagging, but let it go. “Whatever. We should get going then.”

“About that…” Sabo scratched the back of his head, an action that reminded her too much of a particular freckle-faced man. “I spoke to Dragon before I departed to rendezvous with you. He said for you to stay. Well, actually he gave you a choice. He said you could stay, that you could still feed us information while being a pirate. He started to say something about Roger’s son but stopped. He also said if you wanted to come back he’d always take you, you’re a part of us and a damn good kunoichi. You can stay with Ace and the Spade Pirates, if you wanted to that is.”

“Sabo, don’t tease,” Ashina said, it was all she could think to say. There was no way Dragon had decided this. “Koala may have spilled the beans on my crush, but I have a responsibility to the Revolution.”

Sabo shook his head, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not teasing.” He reached out to touch her arm, running his hand down until he grasped her hand. “Do you want to stay with Ace?”

Ashina narrowed her eyes. “What? Why would Dragon even give the option?” She couldn’t understand. This wasn’t part of the plan, Ace and the Spades had been a detour, a means of escape and safety until she reconnected with the Revolutionary Army.

Sabo let her go when she pulled her hand away, watching as she paced the room. “I don’t know, he didn’t give a reason. You know Dragon thinks… differently. He plans, looks at a wider picture. If you want to stay with the Spade Pirates I’m to take the papers back. We can still use the shipping routes. If you choose to come back, we can head out whenever you’re ready.”

Sabo stepped in front of her path and grasped her gently by the shoulders. He gave her a big grin. “I think you should stay with my brother.”

Ashina let out a frustrated groan. “Sabo. Be serious! Dragon said to wait until Sabaody. Why wait this long? Why come all the way across Paradise just to give me the choice to not come back? Did he want to see what would happen since I stumbled upon Fire Fist? Why did he give me the choice to stay?”

“Maybe because you gushed to Koala about how hot, and cute, and sweet he was one night and Koala has a big mouth?”

Ashina scowled and Sabo laughed, raising his hands up in mock defense. “Who knows why Dragon does what he does, Ashina, but that’s what he said. For whatever reason I think he wants you to stick with Ace. I mean it does make sense in a way, your father was part of Roger’s crew, and Ace is Roger’s son.”

“I’m not a pirate,” she argued. Trying to find anything to hold on to, any reason, that she shouldn’t follow this wild idea. All the while she was trying to argue a point to leave, she was longing to stay.

“You should be. The Revolutionary Spade, I can see it on a bounty now.” Sabo got a faraway look in his eye before adding in a lower tone. “I wonder if he’s changed.”

“You should see for yourself.”

His eyes flicked back to hers and he smiled. “I will. One day.”

“How about today? He should know you’re alive,” Ashina countered.  

“It’s not time yet. He’s not ready, I’m not ready.”

She couldn’t understand why, but Sabo had his reasons, and Ashina trusted his judgement, even if she didn’t like his decision. “Fine. I’ll keep your secret. But I want you to know he talked about you, told stories about you and Luffy growing up. It was hard not to tell him about you, about our adventures. I want you to know how hard it was and will be to keep my mouth shut, but I know it’s for you to decide.”

Ashina looked down at her hands. She’d said it. How hard it would be to keep her mouth shut, meaning she’d speak to Ace again.

Her whole world had been turned upside down. All from the moment she met Portgas D Ace. She’d been with the Revolutionary Army for four years now. They had become her family, her friends. Sabo was her friend. He was her superior, but first and foremost he was her friend.

“Sabo? Am I crazy for wanting to stay? To see the New World as a pirate?”

Sabo gave her a smirk and a knowing look. “To have hot passionate sex with my brother?”

Ashina felt her face blush and launched herself at him. “Sabo!”

Sabo just chuckled and playfully defended himself from her soft blows. “I was only teasing. With that reaction, I’d actually think you were fucking around with Ace.”

She stopped playfighting and leveled him with a serious gaze. “And if we did?” she asked with a slight hesitation.

Sabo chuckled. “I say good for him and I see you’re sticking with tall, dark, and handsome as your type.”

Ashina swung at him again, this one landing a little harder into the meat of his bicep.

“Ow! Okay, okay. Seriously, I’m happy for you Ashina. I love you, and I love my brother. If you want to stay, stay. Although if you become a pirate, you’ll need an epithet.” He gave her a boyish grin. “The Red-Haired Revolutionary Spade.”

“That’s a mouthful.” Ashina giggled.

Sabo held out a hand. “I know you, Ashina, you should stay. Give me the papers. Keep the snail active and we’ll stay in touch. If by chance he’s already left, or you change your mind, I’ll be here until the end of the day.”

Ashina pulled the rolls of parchment from her pouch and handed it to Sabo before throwing her arms around his neck in one last hug that he returned. “Thank you, Sabo. It was good to see you. Have fun with K. Don’t do anything too reckless, you and your brother are just alike in that aspect. I expect to see you again.”

“Of course, Red.” Sabo kissed the top of her head affectionately and then let her go. “Keep Ace on his toes.”

He gave her a wink to which she rolled her eyes. Ashina hugged him quickly one more time before snatching up her bag.

“Later, Sabo.”

“Later, Red.”

Ashina left the hotel and strolled down the streets.  The Spadille was no longer docked where they had once dropped anchor, so she decided to find the coating mechanics. If the Spades hadn’t taken off for Fishman Island yet, then she’d find them. Ashina made her way through the streets, occasionally stopping to ask direction or for information on a coating mechanic. She learned both the name of the best mechanic and the fastest route to the grove where she could find him.

The streets in this area were filled with vendors. Little stands filled with different items for sale: clothes, shoes, purses, swords, fruits, cooked meats, log poses, and jewelry. One of the jewelry stands caught her eye and she stopped to inspect the beaded necklaces. One stood out to her instantly and she smiled. The round, red beads were large, but they reminded her of the ones that rimmed Ace’s orange hat.

“See one you fancy, dear?” The silver haired woman asked.

“Yes. How much for this one?” Ashina gingerly touched the beads.

“200 beri.”

Ashina nodded and dug in her pouch at her hip for the bills. She handed the woman the exact amount and then slipped the necklace into her pouch. As she headed off she murmured to her herself, “You better not have left yet, Flame Boy.”

It wasn’t long until she knew for fact that Ace had not left Sabaody just yet. The pillar of fire that erupted several yards away could only be made by one person. Most civilians were running away from what was clearly an altercation, but Ashina pushed forward through the crowd, a hand holding tightly to her pack slung over her shoulder.

She finally reached the vacant street to see Deuce off to the side while Ace was squared off with a marine. From the decorations on his jacket it was clear he was a vice admiral.

Well fuck. Ace sure did know how to attract attention. Behind the pair, who were still eyeing each other, clearly pausing in their fight to reassess their opponent, was Isuka. Ashina wondered if she had informed the higher ups of Ace’s recent escapades.

The two men rushed each other again and it became suddenly clear to her why they had been sizing each other up. The Admiral could use Armament Haki. His blow connected to Ace’s abdomen and sent him flying back.

Ashina surged forward, her own hand turning black, but Deuce caught her shoulder.

He shook his head. “This is his fight.” Deuce nodded toward the burning buildings. “That wasn’t Ace’s doing.”

Ashina nodded in sudden understanding and relaxed, worried eyes watching as Ace got to his feet. How long had it been since he’d been hit and felt the pain of the blow? She learned in her short time with the Spades that Ace was a kind-hearted man. If the Admiral had put innocent bystanders in harm’s way then Ace would have saved them and then come back for revenge.

Ace used his Haiken, but it had no effect against the Haki coating the admiral. The marine surged forward and Ashina held her breath. Ace prepared to throw a punch and Ashina’s eyes grew large as she watched in amazement. Ace’s fist turned black, the dark pigment making its way up his arm.

The Admiral’s fist connected to Ace’s cheek, but Ace landed a solid blow to the Admiral’s jaw a second later. The force sent both of them to the ground. Ace was slow to his feet, but he stood. His chest heaved with each breath he took as he stared down at the admiral.

“Draw!” Isuka shouted, but the man did not move. He was out cold from the power behind Ace’s punch.

Ashina felt her lips twitch in a small smile until Ace turned to face Deuce, and her, and wavered on his feet. Ashina sped forward, catching him just before he fell forward to faceplant in the dirt.

“Ashina, are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that, Flame Boy.” She gave him a smile. “I’m staying.”

“What? You’re staying?” he repeated.

Ashina giggled and pushed him back to stand on his own, not letting go of his biceps until he appeared steady on his feet. “I’m staying. Dr-” she stopped herself, side-eyeing Isuka, before continuing. “he said I could stay.”

Ace wobbled again and this time Deuce swooped in to catch him, throwing Ace’s arm over his shoulders and wrapping one of his around his torso. “Let’s get back to the ship, Captain.”

“Yeah. Oi, wait. Isuka!” Ace wheeled around, much to Deuce sudden alarm, and waved with his free hand. “Join my crew.”

“I’m a marine!” She screeched, glaring at the trio with her fists clenched at her sides.

“So? Be a pirate!”

“No!”

Ace gave a half shrug. “Whatever. Let’s go.” Ace spun around, almost sending both him and Deuce crashing to the ground and Ashina laughed.

Ace tossed his other arm over Ashina’s shoulder,  and the three of them strolled away from Isuka and Vice Admiral Draw, who was still out cold.

It was a long walk to the peaceful, quiet grove where Deuce claimed the Spadille to be anchored. Ray, the coating mechanic, said it would be complete and ready to set sail before sunset.

Partway through the journey to the grove, Deuce let go of Ace and strolled a few paces ahead of Ashina and Ace. Ace still had his arm over her shoulders, and even though he wouldn’t admit it, he was leaning heavily on her for support. The fight with Vice Admiral Draw wore him out. He needed a nap and some food.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” Ace mused. “You’re really here?”

Ashina giggled, turning her head to look up at him. “You’re not dreaming Ace. Although Draw did clock you pretty hard. I’m really here.”

Ace stopped, the sudden halt forcing Ashina to stop as well. He used the arm around her shoulder to pull her close to his chest. He brought his other hand up to her face and his fingers brushed her hair back. “Why?”

“Why what?” she asked with a soft smile.

“Why did you come back?”

Ashina smirked. “Want me to go?” She jabbed a thumb in the direction they had just came. “My partner is staying until sunset.”

“No!” Ace said hurriedly, his hold tightening slightly. “I just... Why?”

Ashina gave him a small smile. “Because I wanted to, Ace. I’ll tell you more on the Spadille. Let’s get to the ship before Draw wakes up and calls for reinforcements.”

Ace dropped it, and let her lead him on as they trailed behind Deuce.

Rayleigh couldn’t believe his eyes as the pair strolled out of the cover of the trees. Ace, as much as the young man was reluctant to admit, had some of the same features as the Pirate King. Rayleigh had no doubts that Ace was Roger’s son, even if the boy had refused to talk about it when they met three days ago. Rayleigh only met Rouge once, but he could remember her face, and saw hints of her in Ace as well, like his freckles.

The woman beside him, a new face to Rayleigh, but clearly well acquainted with Ace, was another surprise. Many people had red hair, but that particular shade of bold, ruby red... well, he only knew one man with that color. The emerald eyes didn’t belong to the redhaired man nor did the heart-shaped face. That long, red hair was a clear indication of her parentage, and he was surprised the marines did not know about her. How had he kept her hidden?

The young couple passed him, in complete obliviousness to anyone around them as Ace whispered in her ear. He was leaning on her, and she managed to support his heavier weight as she guided him toward the ship.

Rayleigh chucked to himself as she kept him from falling in the sea, yelling at him to watch where he was going before they toppled off the gangplank.

“Well old friend,” he whispered to himself, smiling, “looks like your son’s found himself Shanks’ little girl.”

“Oi! What’s all over the ship?” Ace exclaimed.

“The coating, Flame Boy! You need to lie down, let Deuce make sure your head’s okay. When Deuce gives the all clear we’re going to start working on your Haki.” Ashina’s voice was fading as she spoke, clearly leading the man to his cabin, but Rayleigh heard her loud and clear.

She knew how to use Haki.

Rayleigh chuckled again, closing his eyes. “I think they’ll make one hell of a pair, Roger.”

It was later, as Ashina supervised the crew loading the rest of the cargo onto the ship, that Rayleigh approached her.

“I don’t think we’ve met?”

“Oh, no. I went my separate way when we first landed. Name’s Ashina.”

“You’re Red Haired Shanks’ daughter,” Rayleigh stated matter-of-factly.

Her eyes widened for a second before she scowled. Rayleigh chuckled, speaking before she could snap at him. “Shanks was an apprentice on Gol Roger’s ship. I was his first mate. I knew your father well when he was younger. The hair is quite the giveaway, but I won’t tell your secret.”

“It’s not so much a secret as something I don’t talk about, so the Marines don’t hunt me down for being his daughter. My mother and father decided that years ago.”

“Wise decision. You can use Haki?”

She nodded in reply. “Armament and Observational.”

“No doubt you learned that from him.”

Ashina smiled her father’s smile. “My mother taught me actually, but Papa trained with me when he could.”

“How have you managed to stay hidden? No bounty?”

Ashina gave a proud smile. “I’m a Revolutionary… or… I was. I guess I’m technically a pirate now, as I’m going to be sailing with Ace and his crew. Doubt I’ll be able to stay under the marine radar much longer. You said you were Roger’s first mate?”

The young woman was bright, careful with her thoughts and words. “I was.”

“So then your Dark King Silvers Rayleigh.”

“Just Ray now. Are you prepared for the New World?”

“I can hold my own. If I can keep Ace from being reckless then I think we’ll be okay.”

Rayleigh chuckled. “He’s more serious that Roger, but I can see his father in him.”  

“Ace isn’t his father.” She glared at him, her green eyes sparkling with danger and a silent challenge to say different.

“No, he’ll be a better man than his father,” Rayleigh mused and then grinned at her. “The two of you are going to give the marines a good time.”

Ashina rolled her eyes, but chuckled lowly. “Hopefully the marines don’t discover his father’s identity, or mine. But even without that knowledge, Fire Fist has already made a name for himself. I’m willingly letting myself be dragged into the adventure.”

“Ashina!” Deuce yelled from the ship.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, out cold. We should head out.”

“Okay. I’ll be right there.” She turned her eyes back to Rayleigh and held out her hand. “It was nice to meet you, Ray. Papa told me some tamer stories when I was a little girl. I wish I had time to train with you, maybe another time.”

“Maybe.” Rayleigh shook her hand and then brought it to his lips for a quick kiss. “It’s been a pleasure, Ashina, daughter of Shanks, I look forward to seeing this new generation become great.”

.

.

.

Ace could feel the warm body beside him. He remembered going to sleep alone, and waking up at some point still alone, thinking her coming back had just been a hallucination caused by Draw’s blows. It wasn’t a dream though, Ashina was in his arms, her slender body pressed against his. Her head was under his chin, pillowed by his right arm, and his left was over her waist. He moved his arm slowly until his hand brushed her hip. She stirred against him as he trailed his fingertips down her thigh.

“Ace,” she grumbled.

He smiled into her hair and trailed his fingers back up her leg, over her hip, and across her ribs. She shifted against him, trying to escape his teasing touch. When he cupped her breast in his hand, she arched into his touch, pressing her firm ass into his hard length.

“You’re injured,” she whispered, despite her body responding to his touch.

Ace moved his lips to her ear. “Not that bad.”

He pinched her nipple through the fabric of her silk nightgown, and she moaned low in her throat.

“Ace.” Ashina opened her eyes. She twisted slightly to reach his lips and pressed her mouth to his.

He deepened the kiss and then slid his hand down the flat of her stomach. She broke away from his mouth with a gasp as his fingers slid between her thighs. Ashina rocked against his palm, moaning again at the friction. The rocking motion ground his hard length against her backside. It was his turn to moan as he shifted his hips against hers. His fingers swirled around her entrance before he slid one digit inside her.

Ace peppered her shoulder with kisses as he slid a second finger inside her. With each stroke, his palm brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves and brought her closer to the edge. “More,” she whispered.

His teeth nipped her neck and she titled her head, giving him more access to the sensitive skin behind her ear. He obliged her, sliding in a third finger and pressing as deep as he could. He stroked a spot inside her and Ashina bucked against him, letting out a strangled moan.

“Fuck, Ace.”

He moaned, his lips pressed against her shoulder, and rocked his length against her backside. Ashina turned her head and Ace slanted his mouth over hers. The kiss muffled her cries as his fingers stroked that same spot deep inside her again and she came undone.

Ace groaned as her muscles contracted again and again around his fingers, her slick fluids coating his hand.

When they parted Ashina gave him a wicked smile. “Please tell me you have another condom.”

Ace chuckled and pointed to the desk drawer, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Ashina scrambled quickly out of the bed and retrieved the little package. His eyes watched her naked body move fluidly to the desk and back. Ace sat up, but she shoved him back down with a hand on his shoulder.

Another wicked smile graced her lips, and she pulled back the sheet. He was already naked, so she slid a hand down his abs before gliding down the length of his hard cock. She opened the condom and easily slid it on.

His eyes widened as she straddled his hips. “Ashina...”

She smiled at him. “You’re no virgin, Ace. Hasn’t a girl topped you before?”

He shook his head. Her smirk grew into a wicked smile and her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Good, new experiences…” she trailed off. Using one hand to angle him just perfectly she placed the other on his chest for leverage and then sunk down onto his cock.

Ace let out a groan. Ashina took his hands in hers and slid them to her hips. Keeping hers over his she dragged them up her body to cup her breasts before back down to her hips. She gave him a playful smile. “You can touch.”

Then she was moving, her hips rolling and rocking, grinding and gliding against his length. After a few minutes, Ace found his rhythm with her movements, meeting her hips with an upward thrust of his own. He slid a hand up her flat torso to cup one of her breasts. She arched into his touch and her head fell back at the slight shift in position.

He was close to his own release, the feel and sight of her too much. He had an amazing view of her breasts. The pale globes, that remained hidden from the sun by her bikini, were a striking contrast to her tanned skin. Ace gently pinched one of the rosy pink nipples, making her shriek and grind hard down onto his cock.

Ace moaned. He wanted to see her do that again. He wanted to hear her. He knew he liked this way too much, but she came back to him and he was going to live his life with no regrets. She let out another cry when he pinched the other nipple and he moaned.

Her eyes met his and Ace lost himself for a moment in the fathomless green depths. Ace brought his hand up to cup the back of her head and pulled her down to his mouth. Their lips met in a heated kiss as Ashina continued to rock up and down his length. She broke away from the kiss first with a gasp of pleasure.

Ace watched with wide eyes as she cupped her breasts with her hands and then slowly drug them down her body. One slid to press flat again his chest, nails biting into his skin, while the other traveled lower. Ace groaned when she touched herself. He watched her, studying the way she pleasured herself in time with the roll of her hips.

Ace captured her wrist, and in a bold move brought her fingers to his lips. He darted his tongue out to touch the tip of her fingers and then sucked them fully into his mouth. The tangy sweetness of her fluids was a pleasurable surprise that brought some vivid ideas to his mind. Grasping her hip with one hand he released her wrist and used his own fingers to touch her.

“Yes, Ace,” she panted.

He grunted in response, unable to form coherent words. He was so fucking close, but he needed her to orgasm again. He wanted to see her fall apart one more time. He wanted her to come with him.

He flicked his finger over the sensitive bundle of nerves and she shrieked, arching her back. Her movements faltered slightly, but he kept her moving with a strong hand on her hip. Then her warm, tight walls were clamping around his cock, contracting and squeezing. Her thighs trembled against his, but she never stopped moving. The feel of her, the sound she made, and the sight of her eyes closed, mouth open, and head thrown back in pleasure sent him over the edge.

Ace came with a loud groan, fingers tightening in her soft skin.

Ashina collapsed on his chest with a contented sigh and then giggled. “That was fun.”

Ace chuckled and turned his head to kiss her. Ashina sat up then and carefully slid off him. She stood and strolled naked over to her trunk that still sat beside his. Ace watched her for a moment before rising to dispose of the condom and clean off.

She was already half dressed when he pulled on a pair of shorts and threaded the belts through their loops.

Ashina turned to face him as he shrugged on a yellow shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. Her hands were behind her back and a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“What?”

Ashina giggled. “I have something for you. I saw it in the market as I made my way back through the archipelago.”

“Oh?”

Ashina pulled her hands in front of her and held out the strand of red beads. They were large and matched the smaller ones on the brim of his hat.

“Cool.” Ace took it from her and slipped it over his head. “Thanks, Ashina.”

Ace pulled her into his chest quickly and tilted her chin up with his fingers. He lowered his mouth to hers in a gentle kiss. Her hands slid to his shoulders and he tightened an arm around her waist.

“Ace! Ashina!” Deuce yelled from the other side of the door, interrupting them before Ace could deepen the kiss. “Fishman Island is within sight!”

“We’re already there?” Ace asked incredulously, making Ashina giggle.

“Yes. You missed all the excitement last night as we entered deep water. Mihar and Skull finally made me go to bed early this morning, but they stayed up to keep watch.”

Ashina headed for the door and swung it open. “Come on, Captain. Last stop before the New World.”

Ace smirked at her before stepping out onto the deck, catching her hand in his and pulling her outside with him. It was strange to see the ocean surrounding them, and even stranger for it to be light outside. He expected the bottom of the sea to be dark. They were rapidly approaching the island that was surrounded by a large bubble much like the one coating the Spadille.

“Wow,” Ashina whispered beside him. “It’s prettier than I imagined for a place at the bottom of the sea.”

“What are your orders, Captain?” Deuce asked, coming up beside the pair and giving them a knowing grin.

“Let’s find out how to get in the bubble and find a place to dock,” Ace answered, his grin widening as he stared at Fishman Island. Ashina was going to see the New World with him, but first, they were going to explore this island together, and Ace couldn’t keep the smile off his face. She came back, she called him Captain, and she had chosen him. Ace could hardly believe it.

“Ready to see the New World?” he asked her, turning his head to look down at her.

Ashina could not help but smile back at him, looking at that boyish grin, and nodded. “Yes.”

[irwintry]

Garden Guru

Warnings: swearing

Author’s Note: i should rly work on some new stuff

Word Count: 6k

You didn't understand your mother's love for Gerber daisies. Personally, you were a petunia gal yourself. The yard had plenty of each, along with a million other flowers that had been purchased in spurts throughout the year. Ever since you could remember, the garage of your family home never housed cars, but pots and planters instead to contribute to your mother's love for gardening.

This "love" spread elsewhere by the time you were fourteen. She'd gathered enough money to buy out the old abandoned fresh food market on Locust Ave, and in under a year, the final renovations revealed a spectacular flower shop made with all kinds of love. The porch was filled with annuals and perennials, even succulents that you talked her into ordering. She asked you to paint the great big sign that would dangle from the entrance, and even though you've never been much of an artist, you complied. Betty Bloom Florals was now open.

While you were away at college, your mother ran the shop all by herself. She felt thankful for summers especially; sales were out the wazoo and you were there right by her side. When she wasn't managing Betty Bloom, she was offering herself off as a gardener for anyone willing to pay the fees. Her background in landscape landed her roles through the Parks and Recreation department of the town, which made it harder for her to "be the boss". Though she didn't necessarily sell Betty Bloom, it opened under new management. Now, she owned but never operated.

The yard of your childhood home was your favorite landscape design of all time. The patch of green by the back fence housed a willow with a tire swing younger Y/N used to love. To its left, a fairly large greenhouse (for a backyard, at least) sat, filled to the brim with flowers, fruits, and veggies. Just off of the porch, a stone path hugged by two ginormous flower gardens led back to the greenhouse.

The garden your mother created was the love of your life. When she couldn't tend to it, you took charge. She wasn't picky per se, but often, she'd tell you what she would have preferred. Nonetheless, she never complained. It wasn't just her garden; it was yours as well.

It was the summer before your senior year. Working was going to be the same as every year had been since you started high school, but those plans fell short when your mother asked you to help out with landscaping instead. You jumped at the opportunity; however, that meant more days cooped up at home in her office while the two of you tried to agree on many, many decisions.

You loved being the daughter of a florist/ gardener because most of the time, life felt so simple.

"Y/N?"

You hummed, stirring in your sleep as you dreamt about what you would be doing now if you had gone to Hogwarts. Would you be an Auror? Okay, maybe not. They're, like, the elite... You've got to be really good.

"Y/N!" That voice was no longer a whisper, and you were no longer thinking about wandering through the Ministry of Magic and glaring at the certain wizards you disliked.

"Hmm?" You blinked your eyes open, but they had nothing to adjust to. It was still pitch dark in your room. Maybe you were hearing things. You closed your eyes again.

"Y/N." It was your mother's voice. "I think there are kids in our backyard."

"Mmm kay."

"Y/N."

"What?"

"There are kids in our backyard," she repeated.

Your eyes shot back open, and you nearly sprung out of bed to take ahold of her arms. "The flowers!"

"Yeah, the flowers," she mocked, folding her arms meanwhile freeing herself from your tight grip. She glanced toward the window that faced the backyard and nodded towards it. "Maybe you can open your window and listen in."

"Won't they hear me?" you asked. Your stomach began to hurt; you had gotten up way too fast.

She shrugged. "Yeah, and? I think they're drunk. And, they're ruining our garden."

You liked that she said our garden, even though most of the gardening had been done by her before you came back from school. You huffed and stomped over to the window, kneeling down so you could get a good angle to open the window. You tried your best to keep quiet as you did so, but apparently, they hadn't heard a thing.

"Have you fucking found any?" one asked after a long moment of rustling.

"I can't see jack shit, Luke," another replied. "Get off my butt."

You looked back to your mother, even though she was barely a visible silhouette. The kids below had flashlights – off of their phones most likely, and they were shining all over the place. There looked to be about five or six separate people darting around the yard.

"I think I found so– Nah, sorry, it was an actual weed."

Behind you, your mother huffed. "I don't have weeds."

That was when it hit you. They didn't happen upon your yard randomly while trying to sneak out somewhere, they were trying to find pot. That was also something your mother didn't have (to the extent of your knowledge), so naturally, these drunk boys were trespassing for no real reason at all.

"That's what they want," you whispered.

"What?"

"They're looking for weed," you said. "Not weeds." You shut the window slowly and began in the direction of the stairs to the first floor. "You don't happen to grow pot, do you?"

Your mother gasped as she followed you. "Oh my gosh, you're kidding me! That's what they're looking for?"

"Yep."

You opened the sliding glass door with a loud bang, and immediately a bunch of distressed swears followed. A second later, you had switched on the light. Both you and your mom stood with your arms crossed, but when the light illuminated your backyard, only one perpetrator could be found. The tall blond boy was staring at the two of you, his eyes wide and watery, his mouth hung wide open. His hands were shaky as he held them up, meanwhile shining you right in the eye with his flashlight.

"I-I-I'm– I'm s-so– "

"What's your name, sweetie?" your mother questioned slowly, her tone sharp yet calm.

He swallowed, hardly moving anything but his mouth or head. "L-Luke."

"Ah," you chuckled. "You're Luke. Did you get off of that guy's butt?"

It would have been a better joke if Luke hadn't looked so damn terrified. A part of you wanted to shrug and tell him to get the hell out; he looked too scared to be guilty of anything. But then, you took a look at the garden. Your mother seemed to be on the same page, for she had to sit down on a patio chair to keep her heart from racing too hard.

"We're calling the police," you said, trying your best to sound stern. In reality, you wanted to go back to bed. You wanted to curl up under your sheets and go back to dreaming about live in the wizarding world, but now you were having to deal with a cute trespasser with drunk intentions just to find weed.

He began shaking his head, and even from far away, you could see his lip trembling. "Please, I'll– I'll do anything."

"I'm sorry, but– "

"Anything?" your mother asked. The question itself sounded as sketchy as it was written. She uncrossed her legs before standing up, her arms still folded while she stared this Luke guy down.

He nodded. He still hadn't moved otherwise.

"You've torn my garden to shreds for what– weed?" She had a way of scaring people without yelling, something you realized early on when you were a child. It was her discipline tactic. "Gardens don't take minutes to plant and grow, so my proposition for you is– "

"Anything," he said. "Promise." This poor Luke needed a break.

"I'll give you the tools, and you fix my garden back up just the way I had designed it." Your mom walked back to the sliding door. "Come back here tomorrow at nine in the morning. You're pulling everything."

"I-I... I don't know how to garden."

She shrugged. "Y/N will show you."

You had been nodding along, and the sentence almost escaped you. Your eyes widened as your head snapped in her direction. "What? No. This is all his fault." And his other friends' of course, but if you knew guys any better, you knew that there was no way he'd be able to get his other friends to help. They weren't in the kind of trouble he was. Surely, he was going to be pissed at them.

"You work for me, so I'm asking you to help him out," she whispered to you. "Look at those eyes. Maybe you'll fall for the felon."

You sighed and glanced back at Luke. His arms were starting to lower back to his sides, but his sad eyes were as large as Jupiter. You didn't want to admit that your mother made a convincing argument; now that you'd gotten a better look at him, he was as cute as a button. And, he was so freakin' tall. How on earth a normal human could look like the embodiment of Gumby, you had no idea.

You glanced around at the stirred-up hell he and his friends created, the anger bubbling in your stomach at the thought of the hard work you and your mom put into the garden. Now, you had to do it all over again, this time with a stranger that caused it all. But, your mom was right; you work for her.

"Fine," you said. "Nine tomorrow. Bring money. We've got a lot of shit to buy because of you."

He nodded, holding back a gulp as your mother prepared to head back inside. "Thank you." His voice had strained confidence in it, almost as if he was now trying to sound less-wimpy.

Truly, you didn't think he was a wimp. If you had been in his shoes, you would be terrified of getting arrested as well. The thing was, you liked the fact that he was scared. He deserved it for the mess he made.

You gave him a smile. "Don't thank us yet, Gumby."

-

You half-expected this kid to show up twenty minutes early (mostly because he looked so damn scared the night prior, so you figured he'd do anything to make it up to the both of you), but when he arrived at 9:30 in a flannel and jeans, you couldn't help but laugh. This was what you had to work with, someone who showed up late and in inappropriate clothing for the job.

"Are we going to like, Lowes or something?" Luke asked as he approached you on the front porch. He looked hungover and exhausted, but he was no longer in shock like he had been last night.

You slung your small backpack over your shoulder and brushed passed him without a second glance. "Sammi's Greenhouse. I hope you got a nice dandy playlist for the hour-long drive."

"Hour?" he questioned. He hadn't moved from his spot on the path to your house while you were now getting in the driver's seat of your car. "What the fu– "

You shut the door and turned on the ignition. When you looked back at him, he was rolling his eyes and finally making his way to the car. So, what? He was annoyed? You were dreading this now, and you were definitely going to text your mother a super long message once you arrived at Sammi's. By this rate, you were sure this garden would take the entire summer to manage. It would be too late by then.

"What are we going that far fo'?" he asked as he slid in the passenger seat. He made a face as he took in the interior of your car. Sure, it was somewhat messy, but Betsy had been through hell and back with you. "It's gonna take us all fuckin' day to get this dumb garden fixed."

"Listen, Gumby– " You took a breath as you began backing out of the driveway. "Clearly, you don't know shit about gardening, so how 'bout you start off by not speaking at all. Okay? You're damn lucky we're not reporting you. Suck it up and follow everything I do. You're already a pain in my ass and we haven't even left the neighborhood."

"Jesus... fine," he whispered as he began playing with the rings on his fingers.

"And, I hate to break it to you bud, but this dumb garden is going to take a little longer than one stupid day to fix," you continued. You were trying not to make your nerves known through your tone.

"What?"

Your eyes widened; his "what" had been so high and loud, you nearly slammed your foot on the brakes.

"How long's this gonna fuckin' take?" Meanwhile, as he spoke, he slipped on a pair of sunglasses that looked way too expensive to be worn in a car like Betsy. In fact, he looked way too expensive for Betsy. It made you wonder why he was scavenging around your garden for weed when he could most likely get as many grams as his dumbass wanted.

"Well," you said with a sigh, "to plant... maybe a week. Which, in all honesty, is the minimum approximate time I can give you. It's a big garden, and everything needs to be perfect to satisfy my mom. If one marigold is where a petunia should be, then I wouldn't be surprised if she threatened the police on you again. I mean, hell, Gumby, you all fucking dug up almost the entire garden."

"How do you know I didn't work alone?" he questioned, surprise lacing his tone. "Also, why do you keep calling me that?"

"What? Gumby?" you asked innocently. "You know Gumby, right?"

"That clay dude?"

"Yeah, you look like him," you said. You turned down Locust Ave.

"I do not."

"Hm, kinda do."

"No, fuck you, I– "

"Anyway, my mom and I heard you all from my bedroom." You didn't want to bicker with him at this early in the morning. "You guys weren't necessarily trying to be quiet."

"We were drunk." Luke had his entire body facing away from you as he watched the buildings go by outside. His fingers were drumming along the side while he spoke.

You chuckled. "Yeah, we know, dumbass." You took a short pause before continuing on with your previous thoughts. "But... not only are you going to help plant the garden, but I'm assuming my mom wants you to help tend to it too so you can count on being at my house a lot more than just a week, that's for sure."

"What the fuck," he muttered under his breath.

"Get some tunes ready, sweetie," you said. You certainly didn't like being around Luke, but you hoped to at least get along with him eventually. "It's gonna be a long road ahead."

Luke groaned but pulled out his phone nevertheless.

"So..."

"So?"

"You got a Pokey, Gumby?" You couldn't stop smiling.

He huffed. "Fuck off."

-

You knew the flowers your mother liked to plant off the top of your head, but apparently, it would have been helpful if you had written things down. On your own, shopping would have been fine; however, you were with Luke who had no idea how to tell the difference between hydrangeas and dahlias (which, quite honestly, you weren't that peeved about considering the fact that they were placed right next to each other in the greenhouse and the blooms were the same color).

"What do you think of these?" you asked as you glanced around at the pansies. It had already been about an hour since you arrived, and Luke was certainly having the time of his life as you took ten minutes picking out which flowers you deemed perfect. "My mom is kind of lenient sometimes when it comes to the flowers I prefer. Orange or blue?"

"Look, I literally don't– "

"Orange or blue?" you repeated, now agitated. He had been pissy ever since you arrived – well, he had been pissy all damn day technically.

"Blue," he replied. "How much is this all gonna be anyway? I don't need my bank callin' and askin' why I purchased a thousand dollars' worth of fucking flowers."

You shrugged. "Maybe they'll just assume you've actually found a passion for once in your life."

Luke clearly did not like your response. Not only had you avoided his question about the price, but you had also insulted his personality in a way. Granted, you knew nothing about him, so it was rude to assume he had no passions. Maybe he wanted to be an astronaut. He'd have to behave a bit better to get there.

"I'm in a band," he seethed. "I'd honestly rather be in jail right now than be here with you."

You laughed, but it stung. Laughter was your coping mechanism. Humor – in general – made you pretend to feel better about a lot of things. "'m sure bail is much more than this garden will ever cost, sweetie."

"Okay, don't call me that," he said. "Again, how much is this going to be?"

You tried to think back to previous years while you eyed the impatiens. According to your mother's garden plan, you needed a lot of those. You hadn't gone shopping with her since before college, and now you were nearly about to start your last year. Her garden designs had certainly changed since then, but you couldn't imagine the prices being too terribly different.

"A few hundred," you answered honestly. "Not more than five, I believe."

You couldn't tell if he believed you, but he stayed silent for the first time since the two of you met completely sober this morning. Luke rubbed his eyes and pushed the cart closer to you so you could begin loading a few plastic pots. Poor old Betsy would not be able to handle this load, so, like in years past, you would have to get Peter to transport a few as well.

Peter was a friend of your family's. He had been working at Sammi's for as long as you could remember, and ever since you and your mom became garden goddesses, he had been helping you out. Most often, he'd take the heavy load of flowers or bushes in his pick-up, and then you'd give him a generous tip at the end. Even though Luke was paying for the whole purchase, you were going to give Peter the tip for personal reasons.

"'m not sure this is even legal," Luke mumbled after a few quiet minutes.

You winced; you had been hoping for more silence. "What?"

"You should've taken me to court," he said, "and then you could've given the judge an alternative. According to the law, 'm not sure you and your mum can make the rules."

"You scratch our back, we'll scratch yours."

"Don't think that's the case, darlin'," he replied, and he even cracked a smile. That was the first time he had given you a genuine smile that wasn't a fake or mean laugh of some sorts.

You put one foot up onto the cart and began pushing with the other so you could ride with it. The weight of the many flowers kept the whole thing from tipping over with you. Behind you, Luke muttered a "Jesus" under his breath, but he laughed anyway.

"You do it, too, Gumby." You nodded towards his own cart – also full of flowers. It was most likely time to start loading the car before coming back for more. "Make fun of this escapade."

He simply shook his head as he unbuttoned his flannel one or two times. "There's nothing fun about this escapade. I wouldn't even call it an escapade. And, dunno if ridin' a damn cart like a four-year-old will make it any better."

You shrugged again. "Not with that attitude." You were kind of surprised with how well you and Luke got along, despite the fact that it appeared you two disliked each other strongly. Truthfully, you were starting to like bantering with him, and you could tell he was lying about not having fun. At least you were having fun. "Hey, can I ask ya somethin'?" You sped down an aisle, kicking the concrete as if you were riding a scooter.

Luke trailed slowly behind you as he said, "you just did."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, stupid. Whatever. Why were you and your friends in our yard anyway? Why did you think we had weed?"

"Someone pranked us, I think," he answered and pulled his cart up next to you. "Need geraniums?"

"Yes, thank you." You eyed the many colors and began picking the pots up one-by-one.

"Mhm."

"Pranked you?" you asked, picking up a pot of lavender-colored geraniums and putting them into your very full cart. "How so?"

Luke let out a cough. It sounded like he was clearing his throat, but it came out much louder than he probably suspected. "We were tryin' to find some at this party because my friend Cal's dealer didn't show, and this one dude gave us the address to your house because he said the owner's – you and your mum – grew some. Think he just knew you both loved gardening 'n shit. I do feel terrible."

"'s quite a story," you said. "Ya looked fucking guilty last night, so I get you're sorry. Sorry you have to endure all of this with me."

He chuckled softly. "You're all right, I guess. I just don't know shit about gardening."

You set one last geranium into your cart and turned to Luke with a great big grin. "I'm the garden guru, sweetie. Just wait, by the end of this summer, you'll know everything there is to know about gardening."

"Again, don't call me sweetie."

You sent him a wink. "Let's get ready for round two, sweetie. Time to buy some bulbs."

-

The first week went better than you had imagined it to. Luke finally knew how to dress appropriate for gardening and hot weather, and the two of you no longer sent each other glares when the other said something wrong. At least, by this point, you both knew what not to say.

You were glad a portion of the garden had been salvageable. Some of the perennials were still a-okay, so you didn't have to buy as many bulbs as you did with buying pots of annuals. However, you did have to buy a shit ton of soil because your mother insisted that the other was soiled. She joked about it, but you were somewhat annoyed because that was more work than needed.

So, the garden was looking... better.

Luke could only work in the mornings due to his actual job in the afternoon, which meant that not a lot would get done. On the days he was late, his presence felt pointless. It took over a week to actually get one thing planted. He and his friends had unrooted nearly everything (aside from that one portion), plus the greenhouse was a fucking disaster.

As a token of your mother's gratitude, she offered you up to make Luke lunch on the days he was working. While you weren't happy about it, you did it nevertheless. He hadn't put up a fight since the proposal was offered the night he trespassed. His attitude surely sucked sometimes, but he did want to make it up to the both of you. The least you could do was feed him.

He met your dog Bubbles on a Tuesday. Your dog was nervous around people, so it was a slow introduction that ended in Luke being attacked with kisses. It shocked you at first. In all of your years of owning Bubbles, he had never once been fond of any of your friends. You hoped he liked Luke solely because you weren't friends.

"Why do you have animal crackers?" he asked on a Friday morning. It had been two weeks since he began helping to fix the garden. A lot of things had been planted, and the next plan was to figure out where to get replica items for your mother's old fairy garden. "And, what are Whales?" Luke tossed you the box of Cheez-It's you had asked him to reach for you since he was standing, and the food was in the top cupboard. "Why do you need these many crackers?"

"Stop being mean," you whined with a pout. "Those are the frosted animal crackers, and they're good. And, you have to try Whales. They're like better Cheez-It's."

"Then why are you eating Cheez-It's?"

"Shut it, Gumby."

Luke mocked your tone with incoherent words but he still opened the box of Whales. You watched as he took a few in his mouth, and you waited for his reaction after he finished chewing.

He hummed. "Not bad. Not better than the white cheddar Cheez-It's though."

"Oh no," you gasped. "You like white cheddar? Have fun in jail."

"Ha-ha." Luke turned to the fridge, but before he opened it, he examined the magnets and pictures on the front. "Is this you?"

"Hm?"

He held up the picture of a little girl – you – holding up two lollipops with a cute grin on your face. You were always told that you wore your happiness well as a child. You had been so excited to win lollies in school that your mother actually kept the picture.

"I won a spelling bee," you said. "Got two lollipops as a reward."

"Huh, cool."

"The final word was knives," you chuckled. "I don't know why I remember that, but I also remember feeling confused as to why the other kid didn't know how to spell it."

Luke set the picture back under a magnet and opened the fridge. "You were cute," he said as he pulled out a yogurt. "Can I have this?"

You nodded. "Did you just compliment me, Gumby?" You pretended to be shocked, even faked a gasp, but you actually were kind of surprised he had said that.

"I said were, darlin'," he replied with a smirk. "Why would I compliment someone who calls me Gumby?"

"It's endearing."

"Not one bit, Pokey."

You let out another gasp, except this time, this one was as real as climate change (which is very, very real). "I'm your Pokey? I'm so honored."

Luke rolled his eyes as he peeled the film lid off of the yogurt. He didn't reply, but he smiled. To you, that said enough.

-

You started noticing your feelings right when the two of you were finishing up planting. The garden wasn't flourishing as of yet, but for the most part, the dirty work had been done. Now, all Luke had to do was visit in the mornings to water. You honestly believed that he enjoyed this work now. He no longer complained, nor did he whine or groan when he had to bend over. He even stayed longer into the afternoon even though you were positive he had another job.

He laughed at your jokes. Your dry, corny humor couldn't please a child, but he laughed, and it felt genuine. His eyes would crinkle, and the harder the laugh, the higher the pitch. It made your heart swell. It was because of his laughter that you were able to recognize the feelings it gave you. And, it sucked.

Most of all, it sucked because your mother was right.

You were falling for the stupid felon.

"Did you ever tell your friends off for leaving you that night?" you asked. You were nibbling on a granola bar while Luke was turning on the hose. "If my friends did that to me, I'd probably– "

"No," he said sharply. He began watering right away, his hand tight against the handle of the spray nozzle he had been forced to purchase. Somehow, someone had snapped the handle on the old one the night of the trespassing. "'m not very good at talking to people about stuff that upsets me."

"Does that upset you?"

"What, that I can't talk to people about what they did wrong?" he questioned.

You nodded.

Luke shrugged as he wandered over to the bushes by the fence. "I guess."

"Well, there ya go!" you exclaimed. You set down the granola bar wrapper on the table nearby, and afterward, you nearly tripped on his glorious stonework on your way over to him. "'s solved. Now you can address it."

He sent you a playful glare, and you could tell it was playful because of the small smirk that had adorned his face. He had a beautiful smile, you had to admit. It was accompanied by a damn good pair of lips as well. You especially liked making him smile.

"'m not good at anything, really," he mumbled. "Singing... I guess. Shit at gardening and shit at feelings."

"Okay, first of all," you started, "you were shit at gardening. You had me so you're pretty damn good now, I would say. I can officially give myself a pat on the back for that one." You were beaming. Talking to him made you happier than you wanted it to.

Luke pushed his curls back from his forehead, giving you a perfect glance at his ring-clad fingers. He even had his nails painted a dull red. The color had started to chip, but it suited him nonetheless. "You givin' me a compliment?"

"Oh, no," you said, shaking your head. "I'm giving myself a compliment."

Luke shook his own head as he started to cackle quietly. Suddenly, he had the hose turned on you, and you began to shriek as his laughter became the cute squealy laughter that made your insides burn.

"Fuck, fuck!" You started to run around, but Luke was hot on your tail as he changed the settings on the nozzle. What had been the shower setting was now the jet setting, and you were being pelted. "Ow, you dummy!"

His giggles only got louder as he hit you with the cone setting, and at least the water on that one hurt less than the fucking jet. "Slow down!" he shouted after you. "I've missed a spot on your ass." He cornered you by the greenhouse, and just as he thought he had gotten you good, you were able to grab the hose from his slippery grip. Luckily, the hose was long enough to reach this far back in the yard.

"Payback, bitch," you said with a grin as you sprayed him. You expected him to run away as you had done, but instead, he stepped closer to you.

His laughter died down only slightly, yet you hardly noticed the change before he closed the space between the two of you. The water hit him directly in the stomach as his hand found the back of your neck to pull you into him. Your lips met in a sloppy yet comforting kiss, the kind of first kiss that people talked about for years. It was like kissing in the rain, but also completely different at the same time.

He pulled away almost as fast as he had initiated the kiss. His hair was hanging in his eyes, the strands dripping wet as he wiped the water off of his nose. That only caused you to aim the water at his face as another fit of giggles erupted through your body.

"Gonna fuckin' get you for this," he muttered, taking you by the waist and hoisting you over his shoulder.

"No, no, no!" you shrieked, hitting his back and spraying his butt with the jet setting.

"Hey, that's inappropriate," he whispered into your ear.

You lifted the hose again, hitting him in the face once more. "Eat my butt, Gumby."

You did not mind falling for the felon one bit.

-

You saw Luke less after that. It was partially due to the fact that the garden had been finished, and all he needed to do was stop by and water them. But, he never stayed to talk. This not only crushed you but made you resent letting yourself open up in the first place. The steady banter had been comfortable, and you should have kept it that way. You let yourself fall for someone who wasn't ready for anything in the first place.

You wanted to believe that you spoke too soon the day he pecked your lips goodbye. He made sure to wink and wave on his way out, yet somehow, your heart fell deep into your chest. Someone who didn't want to give you everything wasn't worth your time. Luke said had a tendency to avoid talking about things that upset him, but you weren't going to let yourself do the same.

"Hey, Gumby," you said, your tone a little too harsh as you approached him one morning.

He had taken his shirt off due to the incredulous heat index of the day, and it was only ten in the morning. He turned as soon as he heard your voice. "Hm?"

"Do you have feelings for me?" you questioned. You weren't going to sugarcoat anything. You wanted the answers as straightforward as possible.

Luke released his grip on the handle of the nozzle. "What?" His eyes had widened slightly, and if he hadn't already been red due to the heat, you would have assumed the question made him blush.

"Do you like me? Are you into me? Would you fuck me? Just let me know."

He blinked rapidly. "Why are you asking all of this?"

You shrugged, but you knew why you were asking all of this. You let out a laugh before you continued. "Because you fucking kissed me, you dumbfuck. You kissed me twice, and that was it! You've hardly talked to me since. Were you just doing it because you knew I liked you? Or do you actually fucking like me back?"

Luke dropped the hose and ambled towards you, his long legs taking him to you in under a second. Both of his hands grabbed hold of your cheeks as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss grew heated in a matter of milliseconds. His tongue slipped in between your lips before you could register what had even happened. You felt warm all over, and it wasn't because of the hot air.

His lips left yours a moment later, slipping away with a filthy pop before he began kissing along your cheeks and forehead.

"What does this mean?" you whispered lowly and gripped his wrists loosely.

Luke retracted, looking right into your eyes so he could say exactly what he wanted. "It means I like you back," he responded. He swallowed thickly and pressed another quick kiss to your lips. "And, I'm bad at feelings," he whispered, "so I'm sorry I did that to you. 'm really sorry."

His hands found your waist as he started kissing you again. You wound your fingers in his long blond curls, not even worrying about how sweaty they might be. You couldn't find it in yourself to worry about anything but how well you were kissing him. Your lips were numb as he pulled away again, and you found yourself glancing down at his exposed chest so you wouldn't have to look into his eyes.

You were too giddy, but looking at the hairs on his chest was not helping your case one bit.

Suddenly, Luke was bending over and reaching for the hose, quickly turning it back on and spraying you like had done a week or two prior. His loud giggles filled the air, and even though you were screaming for dear life, you had never felt happier.

[anogete]

The Most Amazing Woman I Know

I live four hours away from almost all of my family.  I drove home right before I closed on my house because my grandmother was having some health issues and was waiting on a plan of action for a cancer diagnosis.  I spent a weekend with her before returning to my life up north (work, house closing, moving, etc).  I had to move but as soon as that was done, I jumped back in the car to return on Friday evening.  Her prognosis was decided to be not good and the doctor said two weeks a week ago.

When I got here, I found my grandmother in a fugue and my mother exhausted.  She’d been staying with my grandmother, trying to keep her comfortable.  Things got worse on Saturday and we made a late-night call to her Hospice nurse to ask for advice.  This morning my mother and I decided that what we said we’d never do was inevitable.  My grandmother needed to go Hospice House to be cared for by professionals during her final day or two in this life.  She was restless and in pain and unresponsive.  We were having to drug her with crushed up pills dissolved in water and injected into her mouth when she was unaware.  I told my mom that all of my grandmother’s personality was gone and this body was there in her place.  We left her with my uncle for the night.  My mom went to her house.  I came back to my grandmother’s house.  I sat in her kitchen chair (the only chair she ever sat in at this table) to write this.

My heart is broken and I’m so upset with the unfairness of everything.  My grandmother raised me like she was my second mother.  I lived with her for weeks at a time when I was a kid and teenager.  I lived with her when my life fell apart in 2009 and I ran back to my hometown to lick my wounds.  I cannot imagine a world in which I can’t pick up my phone and call her.  The idea is scary and physically hurts.

All I’ve been thinking about lately is the past and all the little things about my grandmother that made me who I am.  So, let me count the ways.

- Her name is Sue.  Actually, that is her middle name, but she never went by her first name.  She is 76 years old and married my grandfather when she was 15 years old.  He was 16 and they went strong until he passed away 8 years ago.

- She lived in Florida and New York, but never called any place but West Virginia home.  She was born and raised here and loved it more than any other place in the world.

- Whey they first married, she and my grandfather worked at a canning/jarring factory and would steal cans of peaches and stewed tomatoes so they couldn’t go hungry.  They lived in a chicken coop that was converted into a one-room apartment.

- She had my mom when she was 16 and used the top drawer of a dresser as a crib because they didn’t have any money to buy one.

- Despite not having a high school diploma, she became a business owner.  She and my grandfather opened a convenience store in their neighborhood, and she ran it and kept the books.  Later in life, she started a mini-storage business and ran it from her home.

- When I was a kid, we’d “go to town” on Wednesday afternoons in the summer.  I’d help her shop and she’d buy me McDonalds for lunch.

- When I was a teenager, I’d do her dishes and laundry every Saturday morning for $25.  I’d promptly use this to buy a CD or two.  I know she thought that was crazy, but she never said a word or questioned me about it.

- She loves John Deere everything and painted all the metal windmills and flowers in her yard “John Deere green and yellow.”  Oh, she had metal lawn ornaments.  Like, eight foot metal sunflowers that she paid way too much money for, but loves.

- She loves Christmas and always went crazy with decorations until the past few years.  When I was a kid, she bought an animatronic Santa Klaus from a department store and put it in her second-floor picture window with a display worthy of a department store window.  She also loved the movie Ernest Saves Christmas and would watch it every year to get in the Chistmas spirit.

- She and my grandfather had a camp in the mountains and they loved spending time there.  I sent a restoring two weeks there when my relationship ended back in 2009.  She invited me to come with them and I spent two weeks helping her around the camp and reading books and she never once made me talk about my heartbreak because she knew I didn’t want to.

- She loves yard sales and garage sales.  We’d go on Saturday mornings when I was younger and she’d buy me anything I wanted.

- She also bought me a Prince CD and let me listen to it on the way home when I was a teenager.  She was absolutely scandalized, but pretended not to hate it because she knew I loved it.

- She’d flip people off in traffic, but there wasn’t a mean bone in her body.

- I always told her she was too nice.  She’d give anyone anything if she had it to give.  I thought some people took advantage of that kindness, but they never once fooled her.  She knew, but she still gave.

- She has a motherfucking red magnetic sheet on her fridge because she loves red and wanted a red fridge.  When she couldn’t find one, she slapped a magnet on the damn thing.

- Before she got sick, she spent her winters making dollhouses.  There is a house, a Christmas cabin, a church, and a barn.  She bought an action figure of a professional wrestler and made a white robe for him.  She decided that he would be Jesus and she put him in the yard of the barn scene with some superhero action figures as his disciples.

- Right after my grandfather passed away, she created a Facebook account and would tell everyone good morning almost every day.

- I’d randomly get shit in the mail from HSN or QVC because she’d be watching and decide I needed whatever they are selling.  One of the recent random gifts was a fancy umbrella.

- She has “wall tattoos” all over her walls.  They are large nature scenes that you rub into the way like a temporary tattoo, except they are permanent.  The guest bathroom as a doe and her fawn with birds and butterflies.  That’s the scene you get to look at while she pee.

- Anytime I ever needed money or help, she’d offer before I even thought to ask.  It wasn’t even a question.  If I needed it, then it was mine.

- She was always deathly afraid of dogs all my life.  When I moved back to my hometown with my dog, she insisted I stay with her.  She immediately adopted my dog as her “granddog” and loved him like her own.  When my grandfather passed away, she and I went back into their bedroom and lied down on the bed with my dog and cried.  It broke my heart, but that was nothing compared to this heartbreak of losing her.

- Speaking of my dog.  She bought a red bench to put under her kitchen window so he could see outside when he came over to visit with her.  And he absolutely adored her for it.

- She is less than five feet tall, but with a personality much bigger.  She loves fringe and red and bejeweled purses and things I lovingly refer to as “gaudy.”

- Her final wishes that she wrote down for my mom include: her wish to wear a red fringe shirt but NO red lipstick, lots of balloons instead of flowers because she hates the smell of flowers since they make it difficult to breathe, and a birthday cake with one candle on it.

- When my grandfather died, she asked me to photoshop a picture of him holding up some trout he had caught while fishing into a stock photo of a stream.  Not knowing her intention, I did what she asked.  The next thing I knew, she had taken the photoshopped pic to a custom graphics shop in town and asked them to put it on the hood of her vehicle.  So, the hood of her car is my grandfather looking proud of his catch.  She parks it right outside her kitchen window so when she has her morning coffee, he’s right beside her.

- Speaking of her morning coffee.  She used to tell me she needed to get up so early because she needed to drink a pot of coffee and smoke half a pack of cigarettes before she could deal with people.

- She loves the Hallmark Movie Channel and almost exclusively watched it at night.  She’d settle in on the same end of her bright red couch and chain smoke Winston Lights while she watched cheesy romance movies.  When I got back here this evening, I sat down in that spot.  The cushion dips down and is worn in on that cushion.  I stayed there and felt the dip under my ass and cried so fucking hard because she’s never going to sit there again.

- When I told her that I caught people having sex in the alley by my office a year ago, she told me, “Well, you know what they say.  Friday is for paychecks and peckers.”

I wanted to be alone after this exhausting weekend filled with people.  But now that I’m alone in this space surrounded by her, I wish someone was here with me.  I wish I had someone to call, but I can’t think of anyone at this time of night that I wouldn’t be bugging.

There are so many other things I could say about her and how amazing and fun and quirky and kind and loving and strong she is.  And how much it hurts to know I’m losing one of the most important people in my life.  I guess I should go wash the tears off my face and try to sleep.  I’m running on fumes.  I’ve had about five hours of sleep in the last two days.  I want this to get easier, but I also don’t want to forget her.

I’m not going to proof this shit, so I hope if you’ve made it this far that you’ll forgive my errors and typos.  And I hope you think about my grandma and how awesome she is.

[queerdiego]

fuck-it-list

wc: 1137 

short lil fluffy oneshot in which klaus teaches five how to be a normal person. 

“I guess it’s alright.” Five mumbles, taking another drink of the cup in front of him. “Not worth four dollars though. Who pays four dollars for a god damn cup of coffee?” The barista swallows. “We have um- we have different blends.” She stumbles, grabbing another cup. “That was pike place. How about Sumatra?” She asks with a little more confidence. Five rolls his eyes and fishes out his wallet. “Better be decent.” The barista stops him and points to the tip jar subtly. “On the house, sir. Until we find a coffee that suits you.” She smiles, scribbling a number five on a cup and filling it. She passes it over, and Klaus, who’s been silent the entire time, watches, wide-eyed. Five takes a sip and blinks. “This one tastes like post-apocolyptic shit.” Klaus can’t help but laugh. The barista just shakes her head. “Thanks for trying.. Amber.” He smiles, dropping a few ones in the tip jar. “Maybe you’ll like the Colombia?” She suggests, pouring another cup. Five takes a sip, and frowns. Not the one. “Something stronger, maybe?” Klaus offers. Amber smiles and pours a new cup. “French Roast.” She mumbles.

And finally, just like that. The stars have aligned, mercury is out of retrograde, and Five Hargreeves has found a decent cup of coffee. He’s silent for a few moments, and both Klaus and Amber are waiting impatiently. “It’s- It’s good.” He shrugs, taking another drink. “Does it come in a larger size?” He asks. Amber smiles and grabs a bigger cup. “Of course.”

“Okay..” Klaus says, crossing off find a decent cup of coffee from the list. “Now there’s just... Go on a date, have your first kiss, and get out of that damn school uniform.” Klaus laughs. Five rolls his eyes. “I don’t need any of those things except for the last.” He says, opening the door to a menswear store. “Dude! It’s like a bucket list ‘cept you’re like living. You have to!” Klaus begs, following him into the store. “A- a fuck-it-list!” He yells. Everyone in the store stares. “Sorry. Sorry.” He mumbles. Five shakes his head and begins browsing. “What do the folks wear these days?” He asks, running his fingers through the racks. He pulls a pair of black slacks from a shelf and holds them up. “These?” He asks. Klaus shrugs and points to his skirt. “Fair.” Five mumbles.

Ten minutes later he’s changed into a pair of black joggers, a white t-shirt and denim jacket with a little help from the sales person. “Is this what people who don’t have to save the world do?” Five stares at himself in the mirror and gags. “I don’t know, I’m not usually sober.” Klaus says, paying the sales person. “Ready dude?” He asks. Five nods and the two exit. Most people are probably wondering why a grown man and prepubescent teen are hanging together, but Klaus and Five know, they just don’t care.

“What about her?” Klaus points his spoon towards a blonde. Five takes another bite of his frozen yogurt and shakes his head. “Don’t you think sitting outside of a boarding school is a little weird?” Five asks. Klaus shrugs, and points to another girl. “Nope.” Five murmurs. Klaus sighs dramatically, and throws his cup into the trash can. “You’re impossible. Always hung up on that fucking mannequin.” Five scoffs, and begins scanning the school yard himself. “She’s… interesting.” He points. “Dude. That’s a teacher.” Klaus pretends to stick a finger down his throat. “And her?” Five points again. Klaus sits up a little straighter “Yeah, her?” He asks. Five nods. “She’s pretty! Go say something!” Five grumbles something, and stands up. He swallows, looks at Klaus, at the girl, and back at Klaus again. “What do I even say? I’m almost a 60 year old man.” He asks, he won’t show that he’s becoming more and more anxious and insecure, but Klaus isn’t dumb— he can tell. “Just say you’re new to the area, and your dad, that’s where I come into play, is wondering if he should enroll you in this school. You’re 14, a freshman, and Five was your late mother’s lucky number.”

“Um- Hello.” Five practices, walking up to the girl. “Hey, what’s up? Hey, are you a student here- obviously, she’s a student here.” It’s a short walk, and his rehearsal time is cut in half when she approaches him. “Hey! You’re not a student here.” She crosses her arms, and just like she knows what he’s going to say, “I’ve been watching you and—” She points to Klaus feeding a pigeon, “Watching us. What’s with it?” Five shrugs, and sits down on a bench, she doesn’t hesitate to sit next to him. “New to the area, scouting out a few schools. I’m a freshman.” He says, just like Klaus had told him too. “Oh. Cool. I’m Tessa.” She holds out her hand and adds that she too— is a freshman. “Five.” He says, shaking it. Tessa doesn’t question why that’s his name, and he likes that.

Not even an hour later and he’s leaving with her number. “Private tour.” He announces, holding the sticky note up. “All right!” Klaus claps, standing up and giving Five a hug. It’s not reciprocated, but Klaus didn’t expect it to be. “When? Tonight?” He asks pulling away. Five nods. “I’m supposed to meet her here at 7.” He says. Klaus is still smiling. “Klaus..” Five says, his smirk falling off his face. “I’ve never been on a date.” He mumbles. Klaus’ smile also falls. “Right, on account of there only being postapocalyptic mannequins. Don’t worry, Deigo and I will help you.” Klaus reassures him.

Sure enough, Klaus is dressed in one of Allison’s Givenchy dresses, a tiara, and a blonde wig. “I’m Tessa, ok? And Diego, is our waiter.” Klaus says. Diego rolls his eyes but continues to play along. “I’m really indecisive.. Do you recommend anything?” Klaus asks in a high-pitched voice. Five swallows, “I uh, I’ve only been here a few times. The Cedar Salmon is really good though.” He says. “Okay, don’t make small talk! Tell her you’re nervous to be in such a big, new place.” Klaus says. Five nods. “It’s uh- a different world here. Y’know, more immature?”

When Klaus and Diego decide he’s ready, there isn’t much time left. An hour until he has to meet Tessa. He tries to dress up, a white button up, some black slacks. Allison gives him a hug at the door, and Klaus kisses his cheek. The Umbrella Academy feel like proud parents, although Five is technically twice their ages. Even Luther wishes him luck. “You look great dear,” Grace says, opening the door for him. Five might have thrown up a little bit in his mouth, but he was appreciative.

[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

Metallica: A Personal Retrospective

I have seen Metallica live twice in my life, which stands out as interesting because the shows took place 15 years apart. The first time came in 2004 as part of the Madly In Anger With The World Tour in support of St. Anger . The concert took place in my hometown of Moline, Illinois at the Mark of the Quad Cities with Godsmack opening for them. I remember wearing a St. Anger t-shirt that night as well as a Kill ‘Em All hat. Since James Hetfield had recently been through rehab, all liquor sales stopped at 8 PM. This made me think at the time how insane is it to go to a Metallica concert with such a restriction for a band that used to be nicknamed Alcoholica. My friend and I made sure to buy the maximum number of beers that we could at 7:55. The stage had been set up in the round just like every show on that tour, which made it nice because you could see various band members quite clearly atvarious times. At the end of the show after a few too many, I accidentally spilled an entire beer on the lady in front of me as we were leaving. She turned around and said, “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” I pointed to my hat and said “Fuck it Kill ‘Em All!” As I write this, the interaction gives me nothing but fond memories because that was the quintessential Metallica thing to say at that moment. As for the music itself, the band was really doing greatest hits shows, so you heard 2 to 3 songs from every album.

The second time I saw Metallica came at Soldier Field In 2017 as part of the Worldwired Tour. The show was sponsored by the radio station the Loop, but it tended to be more of a swan song as the station would go out of business that year. I wore the same St. Anger shirt from the previous concert. Let me just say that I was the only one wearing anything related to that hated album, but I wore it with pride that day telling everyone I saw of my love for it. One of the biggest differences 15 years later came in the fact that I saw a large number of fathers with their sons in the crowd. The group had most definitely become a much more family friendly affair. I got a spot on the field, which you would think would give me a very close view. Unfortunately not because you have to be in something like the first 10 rows to even see the stage. The entire group looked like mice up there as I viewed it from the 30 yard line. I eventually moved back to the 50 because I am too old to mosh. Wow, that is a statement I never thought I would make. One thing that I noted during the show was the fact that they used an abundance of pyrotechnics having fire come very close to singer James Hetfield. This had always been a question of mine for many years whether his injuries in 1992 ever forced the band to think twice about using fire at their shows. I guess not. The other memory I have of the show was I looked 20 feet away from me towards the end of the show to see a couple of younger guys jamming out, but then they started doing backflips. I would later find out that they played for the Chicago Bears. One postscript to the story was a week later I read the review in the Chicago Tribune for the show. Their negative criticism made me so disagreeable that I wrote my first letter to the editor in my entire life. They never published it, but in the next article you can read it.