#it is mostly our boy brooding so ya know

[pen-of-roses]

Darkness

I have good news! I managed to write for the @ockissweek prompt today! I have even better news @concealeddarkness13! It's Coness! Not terribly long or detailed, but still!

Sometimes it was all still too much, too light, too full of care, too perfect, too good. Lying in a bed with evidence of there being something beating behind his ribs despite his best efforts to pretend otherwise, overwhelmed him sometimes. Rather than easing all his worries and fears, it heightened them to extremes he hadn’t thought possible. Dragged up all those questions of what if.

What if something went wrong, what if he did something, what if it was all a trap and a trick, what if he couldn’t quell that dark beast inside him, what if shadows from the past poured out of the woodwork to consume everything they had built, what if what what if.

Because now he had people to lose. And he always would lose.

He carefully detangled himself from the mess of limbs and slipped from the edge of the bed. 

Had any of them ever realized why he still favored that spot? 

The body nearest him made a questioning noise, a thin whisper of confusion started to grow, and he brushed long hair out of the way to soothe it with a kiss on the forehead. A soft sound and that confusion quieted.

Keeping his steps light, he closed the door behind him with a soft click before moving down the hall to his study. He didn’t bother with the lights as he entered, just sank into the chair by the window. His fingers itched for a glass, but that would require more energy than he had. 

It was ridiculous, of course, to be so on edge over having a good thing in his life. That damnable thing in his chest just needed to calm itself, instead of threatening to tear itself to pieces whenever the smallest thing went wrong. And even if everything did? Well, it's not like he shouldn't be used to it.

He took a deep breath, letting his head fall back against the leather to look out at the city.

Naturally, it was still lit up below even at the late hour. Really, what was the difference between night and day between that persistent glow and the usual curtain of clouds? 

And here he sat, shrouded in darkness of his own making, staring at once resentfully and yet wistfully towards the light, just like always. Not knowing how to touch it, if he would even be allowed, if it would somehow burn him if he did, if—

“Conor?”

His body tensed on instinct still, even as he huffed a silent laugh. He would do well to remember that the people he surrounded himself with were just as hyper aware as himself at times, and more observant than he oft gave credit for.

“You should go back to bed, it’s still late, you know. Or early, depending on how you look at it.”

“So should you. Besides, you’re not there to keep me warm.” 

“Ah, but I was just settling into my role as a monster in the dark you see. Even in an apartment overlooking the city for all the villainous flair one could need.” He waved his hand to the window for effect, ignoring the din of frustration at his statement. “And I’m sure darling Gemstone can be a heater. In fact I’m surprised you managed to wiggle out from being their own stuffed bear,” he paused. “Or perhaps a dragon or badger would be more applicable.”

Miraculously, he managed to not startle this time as Chess climbed into his lap, his hands settled automatically at her waist. The dark still kept him from properly seeing her, but his smile softened all the same.

“They’re great, but I want to cuddle with you too.” She pouted and batted her eyes.

He kissed her lightly. “I’ll rejoin you shortly, little badger, but you really should go back to bed.”

“I’m fine. Not even a little tired.” He bit his tongue against calling out the faint thrum of a lie. “In fact, I think you should help wear me out so we both sleep.”

He laughed and held her a little closer. “Ah so that was your devious plan, hmm? Seduce me out of my dark thoughts?”

Leaning in, she grinned, “Is it working?”

He hummed, pulling her down for a proper kiss. “I’ll let you know.”

Despite their words though, they stayed as they were for a while longer, sharing kisses and content to just be with each other for a bit. It was….nice, all things considered.

“Conor?”

“Yes, Badger?”

“You’re not a monster.”

He swallowed, looking back out over the city. A city that had borne silent witness throughout the years to many of his acts, both those born of that dark curling grip on the thing in his chest, and...those of the softer edges of it, especially more recently. “I will try to remember that.”

“I’ll fight anyone who says you are.”

Looking up at her again, he smiled. “Hmm, yes that, I do believe, my heart.” Her smile softened at the endearment. “Now, let’s return to bed shall we? I can’t imagine how the others are fairing in their nights without our wonderful company.”

[ironmandeficiency]

the advice of hobbits

pairing: boromir / reader

word count: 728

summary: boromir is educated on the hobbit language of flowers, but is woefully uninformed about how your body reacts to said flowers

a/n: my april piece for the year of themed creation! maybe i’ll catch up eventually? who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️ tagging @oonajaeadira & @yearofcreation2023

“oi merry! boromir has a cruuuuuush!” “who do ya think he fancies, pip?” “do i even have to say?” “no, i don’t think you d-AAAH!”

boromir interrupts the gossiping hobbits with a (mostly) playful tackle, clotheslining them both with one arm each

he knows they’re both young, pippin not even of majority by hobbit standards, but it’s moments like these that have him wanting to wring their necks like freshly washed laundry

the topic was changed once merry and pippin were freed from boromir’s wrath, but the young hobbits were far from deterred

for days after, they continued to pester their friend about you, from teasing comments about the puppy eyes boromir gave you to preposterous claims that your eyes mirrored his

the risk of you overhearing their silly banter was far too taxing on his nerves. he’s a warrior who has seen the darkest things humanity has to offer & faced them all with limitless courage, but that courage disappears when he thinks about you learning of his harbored affection

he didn’t believe he could survive the heartbreak that would come with your inevitable refusal of a courtship offer, so he chose instead to brood about it

“i still think you should tell ‘em,” pippin remarked out of the blue one day, catching him off guard. boromir couldn’t play dumb enough to avoid thinking of what you would say and he hated how your rejection circulated in his ears

“even if i wanted to, which i don’t, i do not believe a proposition in the ways of our people would end well.” the young hobbits knew this was code for “you deserve much better and i’m too much of a chicken to offer it to you” but wisely didn’t call him on it

“then do it the hobbit way, with flowers!” “why didn’t we think of that before? absolutely genius!”

the next half hour was spent educating the captain about the hobbit language of flowers: which ones were useful in romance, which ones he’d be wise to avoid, and how to arrange the good flowers properly to convey the right meaning

once the right flowers were retrieved, it was time to teach the skill of crown weaving. in one word, that whole ordeal could be described as dismal

it took dozens and dozens of flowers and endless patience for there to be a decent flower crown, but it finally happened

boromir was losing his nerve as time went on, you making a very clear effort to avoid him that slowly broke him down

even the younger hobbits were concerned at this strange development. you didn’t start avoiding boromir until he started using the flowers, but they were positive that you shared the same feelings as the gondorian. what gives?

it got to the point where boromir was starting to toss pieces of his hard work along their walks in hurt frustration. the boys wouldn’t let their friend give up on love so easily, so they collected each of the discarded pieces and saved them

they confront you on your avoidance of boromir in the most inconvenient way possible (because that’s how these two operate) by approaching you with some of boromir’s arrangements

you had no warning when the two hobbits plopped a massive pile of flowers in your lap, the residual pollen invading your nose in the most uncomfortable fashion

sneeze after sneeze wracked your body (even legolas looked concerned at the spectacle from across the fire) until you were saved from the flowery pile by boromir, who looked pissed as he discarded the blossoms yet again

your body was too busy rejecting the pollen that you didn’t notice the harsh looks merry and pip both were wearing before the took’s eyes betrayed the appearance of an enlightenment

“merry, they’re averse! they don’t hate boromir after all, it’s just the flowers!” this certainly caught merry’s attention and led to an enlightenment of his own.

“the flowers held no hobbity weight at all when they just made them sick! oh this is a great development!” “now they can confess their love for each other without fear of an attack!”

if looks could kill, pippin would be dead several times over (but he paid no heed to this of course, that’s just his nature)

boromir, now more than ever, wonders why he took the advice of these two silly hobbits

[slashingdisneypasta]

Teen! Bubba, Chucky and Freddy x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Y/N and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Night

Notes:

This is a rewrite of a very cracky-y fic! I was never happy with how I wrote this shot- I found Chucky was too brooding and Freddy was lame (Though I was happy with how the Sawyer's worked out ^^ I love those brothers so much), and I have had plans for second and third instalment's for forever that I still wanna make, so here! Take #2.

I'm gonna delete the original *cough* Sorry if you liked it, but this one is way better! Basically the exact same stuff happens, its just mercilessly edited and is a lot smoother, plus the characters are more realistic *cough* less cringe *cough*.

The characters still aren't totally right, ya know, mostly cuz they are in totally different settings then they usually are- Freddy especially. But, trust me, in the next part he will become much more the character we love to hate and it'll be great XD Haha.

Plot: At a party you didn’t want to go to, you lose sight of your best friend Freddy, help out a nervous boy called Bubba, annnnd there’s also neighbourhood terror Charles Lee Ray, there. The whole night is dramatic and mildly traumatising (Mistakes were made), but there were perks too.

Warnings: Mentions of vomit and pee, mentions of physical abuse, sexual assault (Freddy forces a kiss on you but it doesn't go any further then that), cursing, and just sexual references. Its the basic chaotic teen movie house party.

FRIDAY NIGHT

As soon as I walked in here, I knew it was time to go home. Everyone was drinking, my only friend abandoned me the second we stepped over the threshold, and to top it all off I think I saw a rat. A RAT.

This was a mistake from the get-go, from the very idea. My shoulder devil betrayed me and I shouldn't be surprised but I am shocked.

So then I turned around to leave, get the hell out of dodge you might say, but two face-suckers I recognised vaguely as David 'Spit Ball' Brown and Erica 'No Self Respect' Banks from Bio, set up shop right in the doorway, and when I attempted to - painfully awkwardly, - ask if I could get just past them quickly... I got ignored.

Now, after 3 hours of this mess that the world so innocently calls a ‘house party’, when its clearly societies half assed attempt at absolute chaos... I am still here. Yep, that's all. I'm, still, here. And I'm very uncomfortable. Why couldn’t I be a 'party animal'? Or even remotely comfortable in this kind of setting? I'd love to be having fun but I just feel like an endangered loaf; Sitting here in the corner atop the kitchen bench, hidden away by some open cabinet doors but still hazardously close to all these drunkards and their inhibitions. I found this semi-safe place when I decided to just stand by and wait for things to die down a bit so I can leave, but I'm now just starting to figure that my chances of that happening, are... slim. As its 12.30- on a school night.

I’ve seen literally 3 kids throw up on the floor and 4 injuries. I also saw Freddy - the friend that abandoned me, - with a cup of something brown in his hand, -. I considered getting his help, but he was... uhh... busy... and a good wing-friend, unfortunately, would never fuck chances like that up for him.

I also glimpsed the town's local nomad - no one knows where he lives, or if he even goes to our school, but everyone knows who he is and that he is the one behind that one time our school shut down for a week due to bug infestation, - , Chucky, in another room brooding, so no one is safe.

Not even a few more minutes pass before another boy, around my age, comes into the kitchen and vomits- into the sink though this time. Then he turns back, looks about with trembling lips, and sinks down to sit on the tiles and hold his tummy. He looks so lonely, my heart hurts. Chewing on my bottom lip, it takes me a good minute to force myself off the bench and from my hiding spot, but I make it over to him, kneel down and tap his shoulder. Quickly, he snaps his head around at attention, and looks at me with cautious, wide, brown eyes.

“Hey, do you wanna go home now?”

If his trembling arms, rested on damp pants depicted anything to me, then its ‘I want to go home’, and he does. He nods sadly, but as if he has no way to get home. Raising a shaky hand, he points at a couple of lanky boys standing in the kitchen doorway, one wearing circular shades and the other a dirty looking green t-shirt. They look a little older than us, collage-aged probably and are definitely having a blast- One of them is saying something about beer pong. “B-B-Brothers.” The word comes out of the boy like its practised, but its still difficult.

Ah. Clearly the younger brother got the fashion sense in the biological line-up; He's wearing a nice button up and slacks, though it looks like someone may have spilt something on his shirt. I frown. “So, they’re your ride home then?” The boy nods, seeming to become more comfortable with me as time passes. To move it along, I give him a reassuring smile and another shoulder pat. “Do you have anyone who can come pick you up?" I pick my phone up out of my back pocket and show him. "I can call them for you.”

His eyes brighten immediately, even though his face doesn’t. He’s clearly had a bad night; Way worse than I have. Also, he’s adorable and pitifully sat on the kitchen floor, so I have to help the poor guy. I smile bigger and get out my phone, handing it to him so he can put in the phone number as I sit down on the tiles beside him, watching the numbers he presses in.

Once he’s done that, he hands it to me again so I can talk, which isn’t surprising, seeing as he had trouble uttering the one word he did give me. I don’t mind- although, I do hope whoever he called is nice. Phone calls are scary. “Hello? I have someone here, uh… “Oh my god, I don’t know his name!! “He, he… uh… wants to get picked up and taken home…?”

“Ah, you work at that chicken joint, then. Was it Nubbins or Chop Top that broke something this time? I'm not paying for it, take it up with them. Or- err- Did Bubba throw up again? I’ll be right over-” A thick, cranky-sounding, southern accented man responds through the phone. I look at the boy with wide eyes, to see he’s watching intently and then poke a finger into my non-listening ear so I can hear the man easier. Chicken joint?

“No, sir, sorry. My names Y/N. One of them feels sick, and we’re at a party at 38 Maple- “

I get cut off, as the man suddenly shouts- “Those dunderheads!!” I jump immediately at the sudden bark coming through the receiver. Oh god! He’s mad. He's very, very mad. Peaking at the boy again, whose name is apparently either ’Chop Top’, ‘Nubbins’ or ‘Bubba’, I catch a very nervous look on his face and he twiddles his thumbs and looks away from me finally. “I knew they’d go to that damn party! Why did I trust them?? Why?? And with Bubba, as well. Those SHITS!”

“S-Sir,” I try to intervene, to actually get the boy some help like I intended, and also make him stop yelling because its terrifying and my ear is starting to hurt.

“I’ll be right there, I will. Thank you for calling.” Then the line goes abruptly dead and I drop my phone hand into my lap, taking my finger out of my ear too. Smacking my lips awkwardly, I turn to the boy, and after a moment, mouth ‘Bubba?’ and tilt my head, look curious. He nods, so that’s his name. At least something good came out of that traumatic phone call with that insane man.

“Uhh, whoever that was- your father?” Bubba shakes his head. “Uncle?” Another head shake. Wait- “Brother?” He nods. That guy sounded 80 years old!! “Your brother is coming to get you. He seemed… irritated.”

Bubba lets his head fall forward, and sighs. Smiling and shaking my head, I get up to my feet and offer my hands to him. “Come on, we’ll clean you up a bit and sober you if we can. I think we should stick together; Better in two’s then one’s in this mad place, right?”

Enthusiastically, he nods, and takes my hands but doesn’t put much of his weight on me as I ‘help’ him up to his feet. As we walk through the house looking for a bathroom, because the kitchen sink is still full of his sick, he walks in front of me to part the way since he’s bigger- he’s so sweet! On the way we don’t run into much trouble apart from busy walkways, but the vague scent of pee coming from Bubba seems to get us through. I look around for Freddy while we do, to make sure he hasn’t gotten into trouble or is choking on his own vomit anywhere, because he isn’t the most sensible person, but catch no sight of him.

When we get there, there’s 2 girls with a lighter just turning it on and off and giggling hysterically in there already, but they quickly clear out when we come in- like we’re the fuzz, or something.

I fold and wet some toilet paper, and Bubba wipes himself off, and fixes his attire. I think we get through 3 quarters of the toilet paper roll before Bubba has decided he’s presentable again. I gesture to the deodorants for him, and he picks out a flowery looking perfume to spray himself with. It smells nice.

Then I take a deep breath, drop my hands on his shoulders and glance out the door which is emitting crazy loud music sounds, laughter and shouting, and back at him; A cheeky look of detriment fixed onto my face. “Let’s go. Front door; Here we go. You ready?”

A second of worry crosses his face, then he straightens his round shoulders and turns around. I let go of him and follow along as we head to the front door. This time is a little bit difficult, because Bubba doesn’t smell so much anymore, but his larger then regular - for a teenager, - stature still gets the job mostly done.

When we reach the front door, its wide open and perfectly clear. I think, hazzah! We’re getting outta here! But Bubba suddenly stops in his tracks and I bump right into his back. Momentarily, I panic, because when I paused last time for just a second, the doorway closed up and I ended up was trapped here, but then peer around Bubba’s frame to his face and see he’s chewing worriedly on his fat bottom lip. I look at where he’s looking, next, and see a big food van, and a small, cranky looking man sitting in the front seat- door wide open so he can see the sin properly.

Ah, that must be his brother. Face more then matches the voice. Furrowing my brows at Bubba though, I tilt my head. “Bubba, is it okay? Is he gonna be really mad?”

Bubba turns to me, and nods. I set him with a focused look in return, stern. From what I heard from the big brother guy, he was way more mad at the lanky brothers then at Bubba. He just seemed worried for Bubba. Maybe he needs reminding. “At you, or your brothers?”

Bubba pauses, then sets his shoulders again like before, looking brave, and heads off. I feel a slight aching feeling in me at his going away, because I like him and don’t know whether I’ll see him again, but then he turns around and waives goodbye and I remember I have his big brothers phone number. Smiling nervously back because I’m alone in this place once again, I waive back, slowly inching towards the door myself.

Then a smashing noise alerts me to the left and I catch a vase being knocked over, and also an open bedroom.

Inside, is my missing friend sitting hunched over on the edge of a bed.

“Oh, thank god,” I mutter turning and going for the room instead, enjoying the quiet once I make it in. But also feeling a sudden... deep discomfort, that comes along with it. I try to ignore that as I move further in. “Freddy?” He was looking down at his feet, completely unmoving, but when I spoke, he looked up and for a moment his eyes are unresponsive. But then they focus. Immediately I read the room, and the girl earlier, and drop my smile. Something in me feels really, really wrong. “What happened?”

He immediately gets up and tries to make a storming exit for the door. “Nothing, I’m just sick of this place. Let’s leave.” I panic and shut the door before he can slam it further open and get out, and he reels back slightly, looking unamused at me. He reiterates. “I’m fine.”

Wincing, I feel overwhelming levels of concern for him. And also for me. Because he is mad. “You say that, but a little too much and your face... disagrees... ”

“You don’t like my face either, then?” Freddy snaps, mood dropping to become even worse, and I suddenly think of how bad it could have possibly been compared to this if I had asked Bubba’s older brother for a ride home.

But then Freddy's words sink in.

“What?” An angry look takes over my face and my tone lowers, too. Nearly unbearable panic seizes my chest suddenly, like it always does when I think something’s happened. When your best friend has been bullied his entire life, you develop that kind of reaction to things, even little ones. Or maybe that's just me. “Your face is fine! What are you talking about?? Who told you- what did they tell you? What happened?” Panic surges and I suddenly wouldn’t have any reservations for going out there and hitting someone- they’re all drunk, they probably wouldn’t remember, anyway.

“Ask Leroy, he was there.” Freddy’s voice is dipped in anger, lowered and coming as more of a growl that I've never heard before, and I want to be mad too, but that confuses me.

“Leroy?” I ask, confused. Do I know a Leroy? Lee-roy…

Lee Ray. Charles Lee Ray. Chucky!

I manage to say, “Oh no.”, and a humourless chuckle is the response I get to that. Calming down, I sit down and drag him by the arm down next to me, wanting to comfort him. But Freddy’s never been sentimental, and I can’t just pat his shoulder and smile like I did with Bubba. He just needs to say what’s going on in his head right now. And I need to listen. “What did he do?”

He seems to be stuck on something else, though. “You said my face is fine, what’s fine about it?”

I roll my eyes, and sigh out a deep breath of my relief. He's fine. “Whatever happened, you’re plenty handsome. Don’t fret! Now, I liked that leaving idea, let’s go. Hopefully the coast is still clear- “Suddenly, shockingly, lips are on mine, which is alarming mostly because I have never been kissed??? I don’t- I don’t know- what- I am supposed to- Why is this happening?

And- and his hands are on my waist and he’s really close. I’ve never been this close to anyone before, I’ve never thought of Freddy in this way.

I- I taste lip gloss. I’m not wearing lip gloss. And something else strong, which I imagine is whatever brown liquid was in his cup earlier.

Realising this is too much, that he must be really messed up right now, I turn my head away from him and peel his fingers off of my waist- but they just get tighter. “Freddy- “

The smell of whatever alcohol he ingested envelopes me and its clear he drank a lot of it, so I have to stop him. My voice gets stern, threatening. “Get off.”

“Y/N… “It’s all of a sudden absolutely clear how drunk Freddy is, yes because of the smell that I somehow missed before but now can’t stand, but also the tightness of his grip on me. Not bruising, but not giving either and it’s a shock because I’ve known this boy for forever and he has never acted like this before. There’s a big fat space between telling dirty jokes and this. I’m panicking again, heart hammering in my chest. I knew going to this party was a bad idea! “Nu uh, don’t call me that…  call me Daddy.”

Oh my lord. That's almost laughable.

“No!” I exclaim, horrified, and before anything else can happen or he can open his mouth again and traumatise me some more, I get a fist full of his hair and yank him back. The pain of it surprises him and I get up to my feet, letting go and backing away quickly, hands raised in surrender. I shouldn’t have hurt him like that, fuck, I think as I watch him hold his head, groan like he’s waking up, and lean forward, all the weight of his bed and his shoulders on his elbows digging into his knees. But I had to. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“... Don't ask don't tell... ”

I just want to say ‘Oh my god’, over and over again. This is too fucked for me right now, I wish I was still with Bubba. God. I take a deep breath, turn around and leave the room, slamming the door behind me.

Time to really leave- Oh, come on!

David. And Erica.

Again.

They’re back.

Groaning, I turn and head back into the party, looking for a new hiding spot. I’m alone again.

TIME SKIP

10 minutes later, I've found a nice place to hide on an upstairs balcony, the doors to the bedroom its attached to closed and the lights all turned off inside and out. I can see people on the lawn downstairs but its all stoners and they're rather peaceful. I feel comfortable, finally, and sit down on the ground, leaning my head on the wall, breathing in fresh night time air and refreshing myself.

Glancing at my phone, I see its 1.10, now. I hope at least Bubba is snoozing right now. Safe and comfortable is nice, but I’m so tired. I’ve smelt more vomit then a nurse does in a month working in the children’s ward, I’ve done nothing but sit around the whole time and think about my bed which is so not a good Friday Nights use of time, and now I’m in a fight with Freddy.

At least, I think it’s a fight. He was drunk, so I guess it could be a misunderstanding. But it feels terrible, and uncomfortable in a way I've never felt, least of all with him- like a fight.

“Hey,” I’m absolutely sure that ‘hey’ wasn’t meant for me, but I turn anyway to find out because I thought I was the only one on this balcony, and am immediately unnerved to see the hunched, dark figure that is Charles Lee Ray slipping onto the balcony and closing the door back behind himself. And he’s looking right at me.

Could this night get any more convoluted??

“… hi.”

“So, are you going for a clown look or is that, an accident?” It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but when I do my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. What? He takes his thumb and brushes under his mouth, then points to me and looks out at the dark street stretched in front of the balcony; Apparently not really caring.

I wipe under my lips cluelessly with my own thumb- before remembering the purple-ish lipstick I put on for the night that’s probably smothered under my probably swollen bottom lip. My eyes blow open wide. “Ah!” Hurriedly, I get up, searching my pockets and finding the toilet paper that I stashed away in case I got a stuffy nose when Bubba and I were in the bathroom, and clean up the mess blindly, cheeks bright red. I didn’t even think of that after the kiss!! “All gone?” I then ask Chucky, hesitantly with my eyes still open wide and round. Just so I don’t look like a moron for the rest of the night; Certainly not, in any attempt to make conversation with him.

He holds up a thumb to tell me its all good, and my shoulders start to relax. While I try to calm down from that mortifying little highlight, Chucky crosses the balcony to stand beside me, looking out to the street.

He has a very nice profile.

And he’s more brooding then I thought- And I did think he would be quite brooding.

After a second, I feel like I feel kind of out-of-place, like I'm not supposed to be here despite claiming the territory first, so I move to leave the balcony - hoping Erica and David have had their fill for the night each other’s faces, and I can finally leave, - but before I get anywhere, Chucky turns around and catches me looking around like a lost child, and laughs. “Oh, I don’t mean to run you off, cutie pie, but this is prime fucken real estate here. I’m good with sharing if you are, though- " He cuts off, and pale blue eyes leer over my form in a way that makes me cross my arms. "You’re that scrawny ginger’s friend, aren’t you?”

“Uhh… yes.” Cutie pie? Scrawny ginger? Okay… so far, I understand… for now…

Then I remember Freddy mentioning Chucky and my eyebrows furrow down; That protectiveness from before lighting up again. “Why??”

“Oh, you know something. That’s a nasty look on your face, there. No less cute, of course, you’re like a damn puppy dog- but angry.” He gets up from leaning on the balcony, revealing the height difference between me and him. He’s not that much taller than me, being around Freddy’s height, but that’s still enough to make me feel short when he’s looking at me like I’m prey. Which he is.

Then he shrugs and kisses his teeth. “I might deserve it, go ahead and look at me.”

“What did you do??” I ask harshly. 1, Because I don’t like the feeling he’s giving me, talking to me so familiarly about something I don’t know about, and 2. Because I want to know what made Freddy act like he did. He was messed up, and it wasn’t all because of the drink, nor was it his regular level of messed up.

Chucky gives a great sigh, at my question, so deeply in fact that his shoulders raise and drop drastically. He really doesn’t care. That, or he cares and doesn’t want to talk about it, but wants me to think he doesn’t care. “I guess I musta' ran off with his prey, I… “Cleaning out one of his ears yuckily with his finger, he looks thoughtful for a moment. Finishing, he scrapes the stuff off his finger onto the balcony. “I don’t really remember what happened exactly. It was a couple hours ago now, there have been a couple other girls, since.”

You… you’re a deeply offensive person. I think, eyes wide.

“D-different girls?? As-as in- “Oh lord, who am I hanging out with? The STD capital of America? He glances at me, then laughs because my face must be a sight, because I am horrified.

“I didn’t fuck them!” He exclaims, a little too loudly, causing me to look around. Of course, though, no one else is around close enough to hear that and I mentally slap myself for doing it. My heart’s beating way too hard at just that crass, crude sentence. “Your friend, though, he was about t- “

“Nahhhhh, nah, nah! Nah!” I exclaim quickly, also loudly, making a face. I shake my hands at him. No!! Chucky just finds this hilarious and just laughs it up. “I don’t- no. No. I don’t need to know. Thank you… “Although, things are starting to make sense. Freddy's fragile pride was hurt. Ugh.

We lapse into silence once again, this time for a long while. I try to inhale as much fresh air as possible, readying to return to the hellhole that is the party, to get away from this psycho. Then Chucky turns to me a final time, and asks, “Do you want to get out of this place?” and I am completely at his mercy.

“Oh yes please.”

MONDAY

As soon as I walk into sight of the school today, Chucky saddles beside me; Walking silently but like he’s supposed to be there, somehow- I’m sorry, did I adopt you somehow?? How did you even know which way I was coming from? He’s so scary. “Um- hello?”

Since Friday, when he helped me climb down from the balcony and then just walked off, relieving me severely from his presence, I’ve thought about him probably the least out of everything that happened at the party. Yes, he’s a bad boy and he’s handsome and we talked, but really, he didn’t say much that made me desire to spend any more time with him. I do want to hang out with Bubba some more, and I need to see Freddy at some point.

Chucky is the least of my concerns.

“Good morning?” He asks in mock politeness, a cheerful, rueful grin on his face. For a moment I'm speechless, because I’m rendered stupid by his smile, because I don’t know what it means, because he makes me nervous. And for good reason. Am I his next victim- or flavour? I don’t know if I want to be either one of those things. So, instead of looking at him anymore, I look away and around- for Bubba.

He phoned me last night. Oh- well- one of the other boys, Nubbins, called me, asked me for my email so Bubba could email me. He also asked what I looked like, which I responded with ‘Small’, just to see what he might say, and he said, ‘That’s awesome’; Which I’m concerned about.

But anyway, Bubba said in his first email that he goes to our school, and I’m just wondering how I never noticed him! But, then again, he was only noticeable last night because of the pee on his pants and the sink vomiting. So maybe he’s just a bit of a wallflower. So am I - the only reason Chucky recognised me was because of Freddy... who does not have the greatest reputation, either, - , so that's perfectly fine. I know him now, don't I?

Still, even if I did find Bubba immediately, I have to respond to Chucky. He likely wont leave, if I don't. “Pretty good, thank you.” Something in me clenches uncomfortably, at that response. I don’t particularly want Chucky around, because wherever he goes he seems to take chaos with him, but there is a wannabe-follower part of me that wants him to like me. I mean, he is scary. But he’s also really cool. And that clipped response from me was so dull, I thought for a split second that he might just up and leave, immediately.

So, I turn back to him, seeing he’s still watching me with a small, amused grin for some reason - don’t know why he would be amused. I’d like him to stop being amused at me, unless he quickly takes to telling me every evil plan that’s on his mind, so I know I’m not the object of any, - , and flash him a toothless grin. “Do you see a van with the words ‘Chilli Champion’ stamped on the side? That’s my friend.”

Chucky blinks, but is no less amused by me. “Your friend’s a chill champion?”

“No, his brother is. 2 times, in fact.” Yeah, and Chop top’s a DJ and Nubbins is a photographer. Also, Bubba said something about head cheese and not to look it up on google, in reference to Nubbins who just seems to get increasingly more concerning. Both because of the unnerving phone call, and because of the mysterious and sickeningly named... 'head cheese'. Yeah, though, Bubba wrote a really long email about him and his family and their history. I had to take a snack break in the middle, but it was cute.

“Okay, uhh… “Chucky stops me from walking by tugging on my school bag slung over my shoulder, and stands unreasonably close to me - at least, I think its unreasonable. I only hang out with one boy. One person, really. Not counting family. So my frame of reference is pretty small, - , take a look around. Instead of standing here thinking about his arm touching mine, I look around too, and the second my eyes land on the familiar truck from Friday, Chucky nods towards it. “There, that it?”

“Yep! Awesome, thanks!” Who cares if I saw it first? He still made the effort for me, and that was nice. I flash him a smile, and step away, gesturing that I’m going to go cross the road to it. “He’s Bubba. I said I would walk the rest of the way to school with him, s-sooo… “My voice trembles, on ‘so’. It does that sometimes, just to fuck me up when I’m doing well, confidence wise. Chucky probably thinks I’m weird now, anyway.

No, wait. Don’t think like that Y/N, we’ve talked about this.

Chucky, luckily - not that I think he would scare Bubba, because his own brothers are frightening, but because I don’t know how they would get along. Mostly because I don’t know how I get along with either of them yet, really, - makes no movement to follow me. In fact, he steps back, shoving one of his hands deeply into his coat and with the other he waves, curtly. “Have a good day then, cutie-pie. I’ll see you around, then.”

“Yep!” And quickly, I turn around and rush off to the van that’s still running. I don’t know why I rushed, I just felt like I had to get out of there, before I embarrassed myself. Quickly, I get to the truck and round it so Chucky can’t see me anymore- I don’t know for sure if he’s watching me, but in case he is I want to keep him from it, so putting the truck between us seems like the best idea. Also, Bubba is on this side.

He sees me and immediately brightens, smiling and waving. His cheerfulness is totally infectious, so I can’t help but grin widely back. As he hops out of the truck, I wave quickly at Drayton, too, to be polite. I mean, he’s only the second scariest male in Bubba’s family, and he did say thank you at the end of our phone call- so I should make an attempt.

He gives me a small, forced, polite smile back that really just looks sour, and a nod before starting up the truck and leaning across Bubbas seat to close the door behind him. Then he peels away from the curb and down the street, and Bubba’s left standing in front of me looking nervous and cute.

I take a deep breath and let it out quickly. Truthfully, I’m nervous too. Probably not for the same reason he is, though, unless Freddy’s been kissing him, too. “So, ready for the day?”

He takes a deep breath as well, and then turns to school. Reaching over, he surprises me by taking my hand, and squeezing it, before letting go. I don’t know whether he picked up on my mood or somehow heard my stomach roll at seeing the scholarly looking building, but I’m grateful.

We start walking.

On the way, we quickly make conversation- me asking him questions and starting all the conversations, of course, but he’s surprisingly easy to communicate with. Very animated; With those thick fingers of his - which, I will admit, are nice. Think I’m weird all you like, but strong looking fingers are attractive, - and brown eyes, and mouth. We 'talk' all the way up to school and to where we part to go to our separate lockers.

Its not the goodbye that separates us, though.

I wish it was. But no, I glance the way I’m going and see Freddy. He’s wearing a raincoat despite the sunny day, and has the hood up. But I’ve seen it before, so I know its him, and I know what that raincoat means. Suddenly, all reservations for seeing him today and any other interests apart from saying a quick, polite goodbye to Bubba go completely away and I rush over. “Freddy?”

“Y/N! Uuh- oh no- “ Frantic suddenly, he looks around as if the courtyard is going to tell him what to do, and I know the panic isn’t over the raincoat because at this point I know that sometimes he’s going to turn up like this, but then I get there and I catch his wide eyes- and the big black welt over the right one. My heart sinks, even though I knew that would be there as soon as I saw the coat.

Well, that. Or a split lip, or a band-aid, or a graze. Sheepishly, Freddy stands there and lets me push back the hoodie and see the black eye in the sunlight. “I might’ve gotten home a little late... ” I should have thought of that. I should have taken him home with me instead. I should have forced coffee down his throat and dragged him home and- God, but I was so mad, and uncomfortable, that- that I didn’t want to- Oh my god. “Anyway, I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you over the weekend, I would’ve- if I could have- “I know. Mr Underwood never would’ve let him leave after a stunt like that. “Uhhh, well I know we needed to discuss the thing. That I... did... ” I watch him tilt his head, pale face awkward.

Looking at him now, I know I’m not mad. And I’m not scared of him. That was the first time he’s ever had that much alcohol - not that I know anything about the effects of liquor, never having had a drink myself, but its pretty well known what the stuff does to people. Especially skinny people with no meat on them. Like Freddy, - and because of what Chucky did to him, and I just want to forget it. Its not how I wanted my first kiss to go, not at all, not even a little bit... but I can forget it.

That's all I want, in fact. To forget it. And to do that, I need him to forget it. Clean slate.

Taking a deep breath, I push back my hair behind my ears, levelling with him. “I know you were drunk, and… Chucky- “

Quicker than I thought possible outside of YA books, Freddy’s blue eyes go impossible dark and for a split second he's no longer the apologetic, awkward boy who has been my best friend. He tilts his head forward, and says firmly. Quietly, but firmly. A bit scarily, actually- “Let’s not talk about him.”

And I know he means ‘ever’, so I shut my mouth. And also look away from his face, because right now he’s way too intense and its overwhelming, and I can’t just look straight into the storm like that. Over his shoulder, my heart sizes at the sight of Chucky, who smirks and disappears behind a building. Christ. Looking quickly back at Freddy, I try to smile. To cheer him up and make the surprisingly scary look on his familiar face, go away. “Can we just forget all about it? And I mean it. All about it- the whole party. I had a terrible time and you're never convincing me to go to another one, you got it?”

"Oh really?" He immediately does a 180 and the left corner of his mouth quirks up, a mischievous grin on his face. "Never? You had that bad a time? I didn't think all of it was so bad... " I smile back at him seeing the improved mood he's sporting... before I realise what that smirk means. Something dirty. And groan. "There were highlights!"

"No. No, never. Ever!" I exclaim, walking off towards our lockers. "I'm only listening to my shoulder angel from now on!- And don't say stuff like that you creep!" His arm slithers into the crook of mine as we walk, and I turn my head to face him.

"Angel? I thought you only had a devil?" Freddy asks, clearly thinking of himself. I flash him a smirk, back.

Then turn to face the way we're headed. "Not anymore!"

"Aw, see now I new the party wasn't all bad... "

"Never again Freddy."

"We'll see."

"No."

"Uhuh."

[yarichin-imagines]

can i get some toxic relationship headcanons with each of the boys? thank you <3

YARI GOT THIS SHIT.

AYY OUR FIRST COLLAB POST — admin bii

TW: toxic relationships, jealousy, gaslighting, mindbreak (reader getting used to/happy with toxicity), dubcon, hints of yandere, etc.

toono - insecurity

Toono just can’t seem to convince himself you truly love him. It leads to him closing off and pitying himself quite a bit. He treats the relationship like something else he’s bound to fuck up, and he shouldn’t get too attached. That leads to your relationship feeling half-baked.

kashima - jealous

Kashima is not paranoid! He trusts you 100%. It's everyone else he doesn't trust. He gets a little more than hot under the collar when he starts noticing you do nothing to stop guys from buying you drinks at a club— you accept the drinks! that you apologize to the perverts who grope you when the try to slide past you on a crowded metro, and blush when you catch them staring. Steam practically pours out of his ears. He will drag you by your wrist, his grip searing hot and twisting hard against the skin -- it hurts, but he's too angry to notice now. Doesn't matter if it's at school, at a club, and it doesn't matter if it's the morning, noon or night. He'll have you against something in seconds, muttering expletives, even going so far as to threaten live's if someone has the audacity to cozy up to you right in front of him. It's unfathomable, it's like nobody can see that you so obviously belong to him. After all, you're his girl. He's the one you come home to, the only one who gets to touch you, hold you, to fuck you, to see you in every state of mind, to see you break, and to see you cum. For him. Just for him. If he wasn't such a good fuck when he's all worked up, surely you'd have had the sense to leave him, but that just isn't the case with Kashima. . .

yacchan - communication issues

Yacchan can’t communicate, but it isn’t for a lack of talking. He has built up a wall after years of being inferior, so when someone tries to push the boundaries a bit and open him up, he gets very defensive. He gets hostile and sarcastic, even in his body language, moving as if he’s preparing to fight. He just can’t handle criticism because he’s been given so much shit through his life, he interprets criticism as hate and feels a need to defend himself. He doesn’t want to let anyone break down his walls that he has spent so long putting up to protect himself.

Shikatani - perfectionist

Shika doesn’t want anything to happen if he doesn’t know it’ll go exactly as he planned. All the dates need to go perfect or it ends with him in tears because he ‘fucked it all up’. Even if the mess up ends in you two having an equally great time, he can’t get over how it didn’t go perfectly. This also sort of plays into a lack of communication as he doesn’t want to bring up things that could cause arguments.

akemi - gaslighting

To be honest, it gets a little fuzzy trying to remember what life was like before Keiichi Akemi.

“Why worry about it?” he would always say. “I’ll take care of everything. Just don’t think about it, ‘kay?”

How could you refuse a life planned out for you down to the tee? Schedules were structure, and without structure, you’d definitely fall apart.

“What would you do without me?”

Please don’t leave me!

“If you don’t exercise, you’ll get fat again, like before. You don’t want to be fat again right?”

You’re right! I’m sorry!

“I’m only doing this because I love you, ya know.”

You don’t remember before, but you do know that nobody has ever loved you the way Akemi does now, nobody else loves you as much as Akemi does now.

And nobody ever will.

itome - lack of communication

While Yacchan and Shikatani have their own communication issues, Itome doesn’t communicate at all, mostly due to his crippling insecurity. He is silent most of the time, always defaulting to whatever you want to do. He just hopes that you won’t leave if he agrees to do what you want all the time. He gets so scared of losing you, he’ll end up crying late at night. If you notice and ask him what’s wrong, he violently insists he’s fine and nothing’s wrong. “It’s fine” is a catchphrase of his. This leads to a relationship in a stalemate where neither of you know if the other is genuinely happy.

yuri - disrespect (being late, “forgetting” events, unsupportive)

When it was three minutes past your reservation, you didn’t even notice. You weren’t even bothered when he forgot about your recital banquet, after all, he probably just got tied up with club logistics, a vice president does have a lot of responsibilities.

He never really saw the point of your artwork, but what was one opinion out of many? After all, yours was the one that mattered. Right?

At least he was looking at it, although, for extended periods at a time, with a puzzled expression, that would morph into a frustrated confusion before it transformed into complete disgust.

But so what?

Soon, he was a half hour late to reservations, an hour when the days were really bad. He started blowing off your showcases. And when you found the card you’d designed yourself for his birthday in the trash? Or overheard him describing your art as “kiddy! kiddy! ugly?” What were you supposed to do?

Flowers and orgasms were fine and dandy of course, but every anniversary forgotten and every piece you found hidden in a closet was just another knife to your chest, albeit a warning that went in one ear and out another.

tamura - controlling

"Absolutely not."

It has to be the tenth outfit you've presented for your boyfriend's approval, and despite your opaque tights (an improvement over the lace ones the last few 'fits) the dress is "still too short." If not the dress nor the tights, the heels are "too alluring" and your makeup is "too provocative."

Tamura takes it upon himself to pick your outfit and makeup, and unless you're putting on his own personal burlesque show, chances are the colors are neutral or non-flattering and the makeup is almost completely natural, truly.

Sometimes it's nice not having to worry, knowing you can sleep in a little later because your boyfriend has planned out your daily look and perfectly portioned your breakfast and lunchbox. Then there’s the rest of the times, when you have to time out your trips to the mall so that you come home when Tamura is out and hide your shopping bags in your car. But all of it’s no use.

He’s one step ahead of you every time. He has pictures of your gas meter daily, he tracks your location, and eventually, he takes you everywhere you go and sets a curfew.

If you post a picture with a guy on your socials, he wants the receipts, he wants the goddamn family tree proving that the schmuck’s your first cousin, or else. Or else, being that he shuts down your socials, happens anyway of course.

You get used to it. You don’t get to decide anymore, he decides for you, when you wake up, eat, cum, and what you wear, what you know, what you think and isn’t that just sweet?

jimmy - stalking

This one is kind of obvious. Jimmy HAS to know where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with, and when you’ll be back. He can be found following you places or looking through your things. Though, when he finds out these things, he doesn’t get angry. He just broods and pities himself for a long time. He ends up making you feel obligated to tell him everything, and there’s always something that makes him upset about it.

[richincolor]

January's New Releases

2021 told 2020 to hold it's beer and what a month January has been! Publishing YA also came out swinging with a slew of new books (many already bestsellers) in what we hope will be another banner year for BIPOC stories. Click below to find books for your TBR list. 

Week of January 5th

The Life I’m In by Sharon G. Flake Scholastic Inc

My feet are heavy as stones when I walk up the block wondering why I can’t find my old self.

In The Skin I’m In, readers saw into the life of Maleeka Madison, a teen who suffered from the ridicule she received because of her dark skin color. For decades fans have wanted to know the fate of the bully who made Maleeka’s life miserable, Char.

Now in Sharon Flake’s latest and unflinching novel, The Life I’m In, we follow Charlese Jones, who, with her raw, blistering voice speaks the truths many girls face, offering insight to some of the causes and conditions that make a bully. Turned out of the only home she has known, Char boards a bus to nowhere where she is lured into the dangerous web of human trafficking. Much is revealed behind the complex system of men who take advantage of vulnerable teens in the underbelly of society. While Char might be frightened, she remains strong and determined to bring herself and her fellow victims out of the dark and back into the light, reminding us why compassion is a powerful cure to the ills of the world.

Sharon Flake’s bestselling, Coretta Scott King Award-winning novel The Skin I’m In was a game changer when it was first published more than twenty years ago. It redefined young adult literature by presenting characters, voices, and real-world experiences that had not been fully seen. Now Flake offers readers another timely and radical story of a girl on the brink and how her choices will lead her to either fall, or fly. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Happily Ever Afters by Elise Bryant Balzer + Bray

Sixteen-year-old Tessa Johnson has never felt like the protagonist in her own life. She’s rarely seen herself reflected in the pages of the romance novels she loves. The only place she’s a true leading lady is in her own writing—in the swoony love stories she shares only with Caroline, her best friend and #1 devoted reader.

When Tessa is accepted into the creative writing program of a prestigious art school, she’s excited to finally let her stories shine. But when she goes to her first workshop, the words are just…gone. Fortunately, Caroline has a solution: Tessa just needs to find some inspiration in a real-life love story of her own. And she’s ready with a list of romance novel-inspired steps to a happily ever after. Nico, the brooding artist who looks like he walked out of one of Tessa’s stories, is cast as the perfect Prince Charming.

But as Tessa checks each item off Caroline’s list, she gets further and further away from herself. She risks losing everything she cares about—including the surprising bond she develops with sweet Sam, who lives across the street. She’s well on her way to having her own real-life love story, but is it the one she wants, after all?

One of the Good Ones by Maika Moulite and Maritza Moulite Inkyard Press

ISN’T BEING HUMAN ENOUGH? When teen social activist and history buff Kezi Smith is killed under mysterious circumstances after attending a social justice rally, her devastated sister Happi and their family are left reeling in the aftermath. As Kezi becomes another immortalized victim in the fight against police brutality, Happi begins to question the idealized way her sister is remembered. Perfect. Angelic.

One of the good ones.

Even as the phrase rings wrong in her mind–why are only certain people deemed worthy to be missed?–Happi and her sister Genny embark on a journey to honor Kezi in their own way, using an heirloom copy of The Negro Motorist Green Book as their guide. But there’s a twist to Kezi’s story that no one could’ve ever expected–one that will change everything all over again.

Roman and Jewel by Dana L. Davis Inkyard Press

If Romeo and Juliet got the Hamilton treatment…who would play the leads? This vividly funny, honest, and charming romantic novel by Dana L. Davis is the story of a girl who thinks she has what it takes…and the world thinks so, too.

Jerzie Jhames will do anything to land the lead role in Broadway’s hottest new show, Roman and Jewel, a Romeo and Juliet inspired hip-hopera featuring a diverse cast and modern twists on the play. But her hopes are crushed when she learns mega-star Cinny won the lead…and Jerzie is her understudy.

Falling for male lead Zeppelin Reid is a terrible idea–especially once Jerzie learns Cinny wants him for herself. Star-crossed love always ends badly. But when a video of Jerzie and Zepp practicing goes viral and the entire world weighs in on who should play Jewel, Jerzie learns that while the price of fame is high, friendship, family, and love are priceless.

The Awakening of Malcom X by Ilyasah Shabazz & Tiffany D. Jackson Farrar, Straus and Giroux (Byr)

In Charlestown Prison, Malcolm Little struggles with the weight of his past. Plagued by nightmares, Malcolm drifts through days unsure of his future. Slowly, he befriends other prisoners and writes to his family. He reads all the books in the prison library, joins the debate team and the Nation of Islam. Malcolm grapples with race, politics, religion, and justice in the 1940s. And as his time in jail comes to an end, he begins to awaken — emerging from prison more than just Malcolm Little: Now, he is Malcolm X.

Here is an intimate look at Malcolm X’s young adult years. While this book chronologically follows X: A Novel, it can be read as a stand-alone historical novel that invites larger discussions on black power, prison reform, and civil rights.

When You Look Like Us by Pamela N. Harris HarperCollins

When you look like us—brown skin, brown eyes, black braids or fades—people think you’re trouble. No one looks twice at a missing black girl from the projects because she must’ve brought whatever happened to her upon herself. I, Jay Murphy, can admit that, for a minute, I thought my sister, Nicole, got too caught up with her boyfriend—a drug dealer—and his friends.

But she’s been gone too long now.

If I hadn’t hung up on her that night, she’d be spending time with our grandma. If I was a better brother, she’d be finishing senior year instead of being another name on a missing persons list. It’s time to step up and do what the Newport News police department won’t.

Week of January 12th

Chlorine Sky by Mahogany L. Browne Crown Books for Young Readers

She looks me hard in my eyes & my knees lock into tree trunks My eyes don’t dance like my heartbeat racing They stare straight back hot daggers. I remember things will never be the same. I remember things.

With gritty and heartbreaking honesty, Mahogany L. Browne delivers a novel-in-verse about broken promises, fast rumors, and when growing up means growing apart from your best friend.

The Meet-Cute Project by Rhiannon Richardson Simon & Schuster

Mia’s friends love rom-coms. Mia hates them. They’re silly, contrived, and not at all realistic. Besides, there are more important things to worry about—like how to handle living with her bridezilla sister, Sam, who’s never appreciated Mia, and surviving junior year juggling every school club offered and acing all of her classes.

So when Mia is tasked with finding a date to her sister’s wedding, her options are practically nonexistent.

Mia’s friends, however, have an idea. It’s a little crazy, a little out there, and a lot inspired by the movies they love that Mia begrudgingly watches too.

Mia just needs a meet-cute.

Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0) by Angie Thomas Balzer + Bray

If there’s one thing seventeen-year-old Maverick Carter knows, it’s that a real man takes care of his family. As the son of a former gang legend, Mav does that the only way he knows how: dealing for the King Lords. With this money he can help his mom, who works two jobs while his dad’s in prison.

Life’s not perfect, but with a fly girlfriend and a cousin who always has his back, Mav’s got everything under control.

Until, that is, Maverick finds out he’s a father.

Suddenly he has a baby, Seven, who depends on him for everything. But it’s not so easy to sling dope, finish school, and raise a child. So when he’s offered the chance to go straight, he takes it. In a world where he’s expected to amount to nothing, maybe Mav can prove he’s different.

When King Lord blood runs through your veins, though, you can’t just walk away. Loyalty, revenge, and responsibility threaten to tear Mav apart, especially after the brutal murder of a loved one. He’ll have to figure out for himself what it really means to be a man.

Angel of Greenwood by Randi Pink Feiwel and Friends

Seventeen-year-old Isaiah Wilson is, on the surface, a town troublemaker, but is hiding that he is an avid reader and secret poet, never leaving home without his journal. A passionate follower of WEB. Du Bois, he believes that black people should rise up to claim their place as equals.

Sixteen-year-old Angel Hill is a loner, mostly disregarded by her peers as a goody-goody. Her father is dying, and her family’s financial situation is in turmoil. Also, as a loyal follower of Booker T. Washington, she believes, through education and tolerance, that black people should rise slowly and without forced conflict.

Though they’ve attended the same schools, Isaiah never noticed Angel as anything but a dorky, Bible toting church girl. Then their English teacher offers them a job on her mobile library, a three-wheel, two-seater bike. Angel can’t turn down the money and Isaiah is soon eager to be in such close quarters with Angel every afternoon.

But life changes on May 31, 1921 when a vicious white mob storms the community of Greenwood, leaving the town destroyed and thousands of residents displaced. Only then, Isaiah, Angel, and their peers realize who their real enemies are.

Week of January 19th

Thirty Talks Weird Love by Alessandra Narváez Varela Cinco Puntos Press

Out of nowhere, a lady comes up to Anamaría and says she’s her, from the future. But Anamaría’s thirteen, she knows better than to talk to some weirdo stranger. Girls need to be careful, especially in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico—it’s the 90’s and fear is overtaking her beloved city as cases of kidnapped girls and women become alarmingly common. This thirty-year-old “future” lady doesn’t seem to be dangerous but she won’t stop bothering her, switching between cheesy Hallmark advice about being kind to yourself, and some mysterious talk about saving a girl.

Anamaría definitely doesn’t need any saving, she’s doing just fine. She works hard at her strict, grade-obsessed middle school—so hard that she hardly gets any sleep; so hard that the stress makes her snap not just at mean girls but even her own (few) friends; so hard that when she does sleep she dreams about dying—but she just wants to do the best she can so she can grow up to be successful. Maybe Thirty’s right, maybe she’s not supposed to be so exhausted with her life, but how can she ask for help when her city is mourning the much bigger tragedy of its stolen girls?

This thought-provoking, moving verse novel will lead adult and young adult readers alike to vital discussions on important topics—like dealing with depression and how to recognize this in yourself and others—through the accessible voice of a thirteen-year-old girl.

Your Corner Dark by Desmond Hall Atheneum/Dlouhy

Things can change in a second:

The second Frankie Green gets that scholarship letter, he has his ticket out of Jamaica.

The second his longtime crush, Leah, asks him on a date, he’s in trouble.

The second his father gets shot, suddenly nothing else matters.

And the second Frankie joins his uncle’s gang in exchange for paying for his father’s medical bills, there’s no going back…or is there?

As Frankie does things he never thought he’d be capable of, he’s forced to confront the truth of the family and future he was born into—and the ones he wants to build for himself.

Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo Dutton Books for Young Readers

“That book. It was about two women, and they fell in love with each other.” And then Lily asked the question that had taken root in her, that was even now unfurling its leaves and demanding to be shown the sun: “Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

Seventeen-year-old Lily Hu can’t remember exactly when the question took root, but the answer was in full bloom the moment she and Kathleen Miller walked under the flashing neon sign of a lesbian bar called the Telegraph Club.

America in 1954 is not a safe place for two girls to fall in love, especially not in Chinatown. Red-Scare paranoia threatens everyone, including Chinese Americans like Lily. With deportation looming over her father—despite his hard-won citizenship—Lily and Kath risk everything to let their love see the light of day.

If I Tell You the Truth by Jasmin Kaur HarperCollins

Told in prose, poetry, and illustration, this heartrending story weaves Kiran’s and Sahaara’s timelines together, showing a teenage Kiran and, later, her high school–aged daughter, Sahaara.

Kiran is a young Punjabi Sikh woman who becomes pregnant after being sexually assaulted by her fiancé’s brother. When her fiancé and family don’t believe her, she flees her home in India to Canada, where she plans to raise the child as a single mother. For Kiran, living undocumented means constant anxiety over finances, work, safety, and whether she’ll be deported back to the dangers that await her in Punjab.

Eighteen years later, Kiran’s daughter, Sahaara, is desperate to help her mother, who has been arrested and is facing deportation. In the aftermath, Kiran reveals the truth about Sahaara’s conception. Horrified, Sahaara encourages Kiran to speak out against the man who raped her—who’s now a popular political figure in Punjab. Sahaara must find the best way to support her mother while also dealing with the revelation about her parents.

We Free the Stars (Sands of Arawiya #2) by Hafsah Faizal Farrar, Straus and Giroux

The battle on Sharr is over. The dark forest has fallen. Altair may be captive, but Zafira, Nasir, and Kifah are bound for Sultan’s Keep, determined to finish the plan he set in motion: restoring the hearts of the Sisters of Old to the minarets of each caliphate, and finally returning magic to all of Arawiya. But they are low on resources and allies alike, and the kingdom teems with fear of the Lion of the Night’s return.

As the zumra plots to overthrow the kingdom’s darkest threat, Nasir fights to command the magic in his blood. He must learn to hone his power into a weapon, to wield not only against the Lion but against his father, trapped under the Lion’s control. Zafira battles a very different darkness festering in her through her bond with the Jawarat—a darkness that hums with voices, pushing her to the brink of her sanity and to the edge of a chaos she dare not unleash. In spite of the darkness enclosing ever faster, Nasir and Zafira find themselves falling into a love they can’t stand to lose…but time is running out to achieve their ends, and if order is to be restored, drastic sacrifices will have to be made.

Lush and striking, hopeful and devastating, We Free the Stars is the masterful conclusion to the Sands of Arawiya duology by New York Times–bestselling author Hafsah Faizal.

Week of January 26th

Written in Starlight (Woven in Moonlight #2) by Isabel Ibañez Page Street Kids

If the jungle wants you, it will have you…

Catalina Quiroga is a Condesa without a country. She’s lost the Inkasisa throne, the loyalty of her people, and her best friend. Banished to the perilous Yanu Jungle, Catalina knows her chances of survival are slim, but that won’t stop her from trying to escape. It’s her duty to reclaim the throne.

When Manuel, the son of her former general, rescues Catalina from a jaguar, a plan forms. Deep in the jungle, the city of gold is hidden, home to the fierce Illari people, who she could strike an alliance with.

But the elusive Illari are fighting a battle of their own—a mysterious blight is corrupting the jungle, laying waste to everything they hold dear. As a seer, Catalina should be able to help, but her ability to read the future in the stars is as feeble as her survival instincts. While searching for the Illari, Catalina must reckon with her duty and her heart to find her true calling, which could be the key to stopping the corruption before it destroys the jungle completely.

The Knockout by Sajni Patel Flux

If seventeen-year-old Kareena Thakkar is going to alienate herself from the entire Indian community, she might as well do it gloriously. She’s landed the chance of a lifetime, an invitation to the US Muay Thai Open, which could lead to a spot on the first-ever Olympic team. If only her sport wasn’t seen as something too rough for girls, something she’s afraid to share with anyone outside of her family. Despite pleasing her parents, exceling at school, and making plans to get her family out of debt, Kareena’s never felt quite Indian enough, and her training is only making it worse.

Which is inconvenient, since she’s starting to fall for Amit Patel, who just might be the world’s most perfect Indian. Admitting her feelings for Amit will cost Kareena more than just her pride–she’ll have to face his parents’ disapproval, battle her own insecurities, and remain focused for the big fight. Kareena’s bid for the Olympics could very well make history–if she has the courage to go for it.

Wings of Ebony (Wings of Ebony #1) by J. Elle Denene Millner Books/Simon Schuster Books for Young Readers

“Make a way out of no way” is just the way of life for Rue. But when her mother is shot dead on her doorstep, life for her and her younger sister changes forever. Rue’s taken from her neighborhood by the father she never knew, forced to leave her little sister behind, and whisked away to Ghizon—a hidden island of magic wielders.

Rue is the only half-god, half-human there, where leaders protect their magical powers at all costs and thrive on human suffering. Miserable and desperate to see her sister on the anniversary of their mother’s death, Rue breaks Ghizon’s sacred Do Not Leave Law and returns to Houston, only to discover that Black kids are being forced into crime and violence. And her sister, Tasha, is in danger of falling sway to the very forces that claimed their mother’s life.

Worse still, evidence mounts that the evil plaguing East Row is the same one that lurks in Ghizon—an evil that will stop at nothing until it has stolen everything from her and everyone she loves. Rue must embrace her true identity and wield the full magnitude of her ancestors’ power to save her neighborhood before the gods burn it to the ground.

[deliasbabe]

I’m With You- Venable x OC

Alright, so here’s the Lilac!Venable Kid Fic someone requested! I don’t know how y’all will feel about it, so any feedback would be very much appreciated! Also, if you are interested in me continuing this, let me know! Fic inspired by the song “I’m with you” by Avril Lavigne.

Words: 3,179

Warnings: None really, slight angst? Shithead kids?

Venable hadn’t ever considered herself a very observant person. Sure, she was meticulous in her work, leaving no detail unfinished. But for life in general, the small things tended to slip by, not that she cared. Her time was too precious to be distracted by menial things, and even the idea of “people watching” made the woman’s skin crawl. You didn’t have to study the human race to know they were a bunch of idiots, Wilhelmina dealt with them on a daily basis. She probably wouldn’t have even noticed the girl sitting on the bench, but after more than a few passing glances, the woman realized she had seen the same girl practically every day for months, and she couldn’t help but be a little intrigued.

It didn’t help that she had a perfect view of said bench from her office window, and she found herself staring at the girl more and more as the days passed, wondering what exactly she was doing. Sure, the office was in LA, but it was a secluded area with little to no foot traffic. Venable wondered if maybe she was waiting for the bus, but after a few days the woman realized that wasn’t the case. She never met with anyone, never talked to anyone, she just sat quietly. Some days she would have a book to read, other days she would eat some chips or a small snack. But more often than not, she would have nothing, not even a backpack or a phone. Venable wanted to find it annoying, just sitting around all day doing nothing, taking up what could be valuable space, but it wasn’t like she was being a nuisance. She kept to herself and didn’t bother anyone, didn’t cause a scene, the only annoying thing was that Venable couldn’t stop watching her. So maybe Venable could find her annoying, her mere presence being the nuisance.

But after a few days with no sight of the girl, Venable found her absence to be more of a distraction. She found herself to be glancing out the window more than usual, completely falling behind on a huge project Jeff and Mutt had assigned her to. She was always ahead of the game, always beyond punctual, and it infuriated her that this stranger had woven her way into the women’s head. Was she alright? Did something happen? Where did she go?

After a week, Venable started to believe she imagined the whole thing, after all, the girl should have been in school, but Jeff and Mutt had also mentioned not seeing her, although they made sure to comment that if she wasn’t so young they would totally bang her, which just made the woman roll her eyes and scoff. The boys were so focused on physical appearance they didn’t see what she did, didn’t recognize the signs she knew all too well. Venable only ever saw her in three different outfits, and most of the time her clothes were speckled in what the woman assumed was dirt and other various substances. Her blonde hair was often dirty and in desperate need of a trim, and she didn’t have the usual wide eyed gaze of a child who was properly cared for. Her blue eyes were dim, glazed over, empty, which meant either she was homeless or viewed as an afterthought, much like Mina was growing up in the system. Maybe that was why she took an interest, because she understood it, or felt some sense of camaraderie.

One rainy Friday night, Venable stayed late in order to get some work done for the quickly approaching deadline. She stared at the blue tinted screen in front of her until the sun had set and her head hurt, her eyes straining as she tried to finish as quickly as possible. Eventually, she paused and ripped open her desk drawer, searching through it until she found an aspirin bottle, the pounding in her head becoming too much to bear. She glanced out the window as she sipped on her bottle of water, spotting the girl once again taking residence on the dripping bench. “Idiot…” She mumbled to herself, shaking her head disapprovingly. Sure, it wasn’t pouring anymore, the rain reduced to a light yet annoying drizzle, but only a fool would choose to sit outside during it, drenching her clothes and giving herself a cold in the process. But when it dawned on the woman once again that maybe the girl didn’t have a choice, she glanced away and refocused on her work, not wanting to entertain the idea any further. After all, even sitting underneath an overpass was a smarter choice than sitting in the open air.

Still, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing up as the rain fluctuated between a sprinkle and a downpour, seeing the girl never move, not even an inch. At a quarter to 10, she finally gave up on her duties, begrudgingly leaving them for another day, and called for a car. She wasn’t one to give up on work, there were numerous times she stayed until 2am and toyed with her spreadsheets until they were absolutely pristine, but the rain had seemed to calm, and she wasn’t quite sure how long it would last. She was smart enough to actually plan her time so she wouldn’t be caught in the looming flood, unlike someone she knew, or at least knew of.

She grabbed her things, cane in one hand and an umbrella in the other, her bag slung over her shoulder, and walked toward the doors, locking them behind her and praying her moron of a driver was timely for once. She was careful as she stepped onto the slick pavement, taking small, light steps in order to keep her footing steady, the last thing she needed was to slip and ruin her freshly dry cleaned suit. Heels were a poor choice of footwear, given that she needed her cane in order to balance, but Venable wanted to look immaculate at all times and it usually didn’t cause much of an issue, at least not until that night.

Once she made it to the curb she stood regally, umbrella perched over her shoulder, and she glanced over at the girl momentarily, mostly just to see if she even noticed her presence, but she didn’t seem to, she just stared down the street as if she were alone. It wasn’t like Venable wanted to hold a conversation, and she felt a sense of relief that the girl wasn’t staring at her, but she also was intrigued, briefly wondering if it was something she was conditioned to do, or maybe she just didn’t want to chance any form of interaction.

The woman was drawn out of her thoughts by the sound of some rambunctious boys walking towards her, hollering like it wasn’t the middle of the night, snapping her glaring gaze over to them and giving a fiery stare. Why did teenage boys, or boys in general, always have to be so obnoxious, like they had to make their presence known at all times, like they needed the attention? It probably was because they did need the attention, felt like they deserved to take up residence in everyone’s minds at any given moment, and the woman rolled her eyes at the thought.

“What are you staring at, hag?” One of the boys said, catching her stare and shifting their direction toward her, the rest following like a pack of wolves.

Venable smirked, “Not much, apparently.”

“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” One of the boys said, marching right in front of her and towering over her like he was some sort of god, the rest circling around her. Venable didn’t break her stare, refusing to be intimidated by a bunch of shithead teenagers who probably couldn’t form an intelligent thought if they tried, but it only seemed to egg the boys on, and one was quick to snatch her cane out of her grasp, making her stumble slightly, “How about now?” The boy swung her cane in front over her, tempting her to grab for it, hoping the action would make her fall, but she knew better and stayed put, “You want this back? Apologize.”

The woman laughed, picturing the million ways she could take her revenge and dispose of their bodies, “For what? For recognizing the societal failures you all are?”

The boy in front of her narrowed his eyes, a grin overtaking his features, “So no apology, huh? Ok, have it your way. Give us your money and we’ll give you this crap stick back. How does that sound? Pretty fair, wouldn’t ya say?”

Before Venable could even respond, could even tell them they wouldn’t ever get shit from her, the boy was shoved to the ground, the cane ripped from his grasp. “What the fuck?” He yelled, the rest of the boys quickly moving to help him up.

Venable locked her eyes on the girl, cane in the teenager’s hand like she was ready to swing, the assistants jaw clenching. “Get the fuck out of here.” The girl bit, her eyes blazing. She didn’t even look at Venable, her eyes laser focused as the boy stood and moved towards her.

“That’s ours, give it back.” The boy said, reaching for it as the girl reared the cane behind her and twisted her arm so it was palm up, seconds away from smashing it on the idiot’s head.

“Go find some kids to steal candy from. That’s more in your league than robbery.” The girl said, bouncing the cane as if it was going to give her more momentum, “You heard me, scram!”

“Little bitch.” The boy muttered, looking back at his friends and motioning them to go on, seemingly deciding this wasn’t a battle worth fighting, “Let’s go.”

The girl turned and watched them as they walked away, holding the cane behind her with an open palm like it was a relay stick so Venable could grab it, waiting until the cane was out of her grasp and firmly situated in the woman’s hand before turning back to her. “Are you ok?” She asked, although there wasn’t any softness in her voice, not an ounce of pity.

Still, Venable clenched her jaw. “I’m fine.” She said coldly, expecting a look of offense to wash over the girls features, but it didn’t, she just gave a curt nod and retook her position on the bench. Venable sat brooding for a moment, feeling the need to dig into the girl and rip her apart. She didn’t ask for help; she didn’t need help. She wasn’t weak, the child should have minded her own business and not meddled, and the woman would be damned before she said thank you. “Isn’t it too late for someone your age to be out?” Venable asked harshly, catching the girls attention after a short period of silence.

Her tone didn’t seem to faze the girl, she just shrugged her shoulders, “Probably.”

“Are you waiting for someone?” Venable asked, the harshness dissipating once she didn’t get the reaction she had hoped for.

“No.” The girl said quietly.

“Don’t you think that your parents are going to be upset at your meandering after dark?” Venable asked snidely, trying to provoke some sort of reaction from the girl that wasn’t painfully neutral.

“They aren’t my parents and they don’t care. The less I’m in that house, the better.” The girl said matter of factly.

Venable let out a huff, frustrated with herself for identifying with the girl, seeing herself reflected back as an almost mirror image. She hated that she felt sorry for her, because no one ever felt sorry for the assistant. No one pitied her situation, no one ever understood, but Mina understood this girl, her frustrations, her isolation, and she didn’t know how to handle it. She wasn’t a woman who was particularly empathetic, but she knew this pain, and she hated that she felt it, wanting to do anything to destroy any bond she might be forming with this wet, stray dog of a child. “You know loitering is a crime.” Venable said shortly, hoping it would scare the girl into walking away, but it didn’t even make the girl squirm.

“Sidewalks are public space and the bus stop is right there.” The girl stated, throwing her gaze towards the sign a few feet to her right.

“But you aren’t waiting for a bus. You’ve been here all day.” Venable fired back, although she did have to admit that she was impressed by the girls planning. The bus stop was an easy out, and she could easily deny that she knew the bus wasn’t running at these hours.

“Are you going to call the cops on me?” The girl asked bluntly, looking the woman in the eye.

Venable pursed her lips, sitting quietly for a moment, which told the girl her answer was no. To most, the girl’s bluntness and confidence would be seen as some sort of defiance, but strangely, Venable liked it. There wasn’t a hint of condescension in her tone, she wasn’t trying to suck up to the women, she was just to the point with her answers instead of tiptoeing around them to sound polite. “What is your name?” Venable asked, now purely out of her own interest, although the realization that she was interested confused her. This was the very thing she hated, and there she was, actively pursuing it.

“Charlie.” The girl said.

Venable couldn’t stop herself from snorting, “Charlie?”

The girl raised one eyebrow, a smirk on her lips. “Do I look like a Charlotte to you?” She asked sarcastically.

Venable nodded slightly, glancing away as she fidgeted a bit and flexed her hand on her cane, uncomfortable with the fact that she was so comfortable. She understood the sentiment behind the question, the idea that the girl didn’t live up to her name, that she wasn’t who a Charlotte should be. It was the very reason why Wilhelmina went by her last name, her first name seemed too regal and perfect for what she was, disabled and alone, imperfect in every way. It was why she was so focused on her appearance, why she dressed in purple every single day, fighting to make herself believe that even for a second, that she deserved the name, that she embodied it.

She shifted uncomfortably, hating the slight warmth she felt making its home in her veins, a sort of affection she had never felt previously, an affection for this girl. Venable had never really liked children, she always saw them as weak, naïve, but this girl wasn’t, or at least she didn’t seem to be. She wore the same mask Mina did, the detached persona, borderline robotic, but the woman knew there was more beyond the surface, a whole array of the very human emotions Mina herself tried to burry, ones the woman wanted to drag out and view, despite her best attempts at keeping distance. The idea of taking the girl home briefly flashed in her mind, but she pushed it out, clenching her jaw as if the sheer force of it would keep her in line. Did she really think she could help this girl? Wilhelmina was just as damaged as she was, probably more so. She couldn’t help her, the girl had to help herself, just like the woman failed to do. Venable wasn’t the nurturing type, and nurturing was exactly what the girl needed, something she couldn’t provide even if she wanted to. All Mina needed was for her damn driver to show up so she could leave and keep herself from making a horrible mistake.

“You’re Venable, right?” Charlotte asked, the first question she had dared pose to the woman.

Venable gave a small nod, now thoroughly intrigued, “Wilhelmina. How did you know that?”

“The idiot coconut heads never shut up about you.” Charlotte laughed, Venable smirking at the nickname, “You know it’s amazing they’ve made it this long? God help whoever decided they were capable of running their own company. Someone has to be helping them keep their shit together, and you seem to fit the bill.”

Venable gave another smirk, arching an eyebrow, “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“That’s not flattery, it’s a statement.” Charlie said, glancing away before looking back, “I don’t flatter anyone.”

Venable gave a nod before the air was silent once again, the slight sprinkling of rain progressing into a drizzle, the woman letting out a scoff at her driver’s inability to be even remotely prompt.

“You could wait inside.” Charlotte stated, watching the woman roll her eyes and move to shield herself with more of her umbrella.

“I wouldn’t have to if my employees would do their damn job. Idiots, all of them.” Venable spit.

Charlotte smirked, “Are you going to call him a miserable excuse for a human again?”

Venable looked over at the girl, the shock written on her face, but only for a moment before she set her face and pursed her lips, “Am I that predictable?”

Charlotte gave a shrug, “Everyone is. Everyone has a pattern; you just have to pay enough attention to notice.”

Venable gave the girl a stern once over, “And I’m assuming you believe I’m being harsh?” It wasn’t like she actually valued the girl’s opinion, like it would change a single thing about her or her actions, it was more a test to see how blunt the girl would be.

Charlotte gave another shrug, “You just want people to be competent, that’s not a bad thing. Someone has to have the balls to call people out, be the villain, otherwise you’re just enabling and contributing to the problem.”

“Or maybe I’m just cruel.” Venable said, almost as if she was trying to play devil’s advocate, arching an eyebrow at the girl and a slight smirk forming on her lips.

Charlotte creased her eyebrows, thinking for a moment before she glanced away, “Sometimes the cruelest people have the best intentions.”

Venable wanted to ask what she meant by that, her mouth opening to pose the question when she spotted headlights in the foggy distance, pursing her lips and letting out a frustrated sigh. The car pulled up, the woman stepping towards it and opening the door before freezing in her place. Every rational bone in her body was screaming for her to just get in, but when she spared one more glance at the teenager, the words were flying out of her mouth before she could stop them, instant regret hitting her taste buds.

“Charlotte, get in the car.” She said, catching the girl’s attention as Charlotte looked at her inquisitively.

“What?” she asked, her brain taking a few moments to register the words before she shook her head, “No, I don’t even know you.”

The woman clenched her jaw, furious that her own stupid heart betrayed her, that it was winning over her very rational mind, “Charlotte, it’s raining, and I won’t ask again. Get in the car.”

[hiddendreamer67]

50. “We think they’re monsters, and they think we are. And that’s not going to change by us hiding. We have to communicate.” 

And now for something completely different! Here we meet Cain, a young vampire who eventually (not in this short) is gonna get a new borrower best friend. >:3 Also mentioning a bunch of other vampires that I mostly gave names for convenience of writing this, idk if we’ll ever see them again but also I fell a lil’ in love with them so... maybe.

Check out more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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The door opened, all eyes turning to peer anxiously up at the messenger. Only one lad stayed focused on his work, a brooding boy with his nose to the grindstone in the corner as he sharpened a wooden stake. Scout paused, placing their bag on the floor and addressing the crowd.

“It’s getting late.” Scout, the scout, announced.

“Good.” Cain grunted. He continued scraping away, the scrape of his blade the only sound in the fortress.

“They’ll bring their pitchforks.” Amdis spoke softly.

“Good.” Cain repeated with a noncommittal snort. One of his wooden flakes fell against her arm, and she flinched.

“Stop it, Cain.” Scout snapped, shooting a glare in his direction. “You’re scaring them.” 

Cain did stop, lowering his tools glaring through his bangs at Scout. “And they should be afraid.” 

“We should?” The younglings shared nervous glances, chittering amongst themselves like kits. 

“For once, dark and brooding is onto something.” Damien assured them, grabbing a spear and standing up boldly. “The humans are coming.”

“They’ll take our children!” A woman shrieked, clutching her son close. The boy wriggled to get out of her grasp, biting at her arm.

“They’ll do a lot more than take your children.” Cain growled. “They’ll kill ‘em and make you watch.”

“Stop it!” Scout stomped their foot, frustrated as the energy in the room was quickly reaching dangerous levels. “I am the one who goes out. I’ve been amongst them. Humans…aren’t all bad.” They paused, rubbing at their arm. “Okay, it’s true. We think they’re monsters, and they think we are. But that’s not going to change by us hiding.” They took a deep breath. “We have to communicate.”

“‘Communicate’? Are you hearing yourself?” Damien  hissed, smacking the side of his sibling’s head. “We take one step towards a mortal and they’ll drive a stake through our heart.”

“Only because they expect us to drain them dry of blood!” Scout argued, hitting him back. “But it’s cruel for us to do so, just as it’s cruel for them to make assumptions. If we just talk to the humans, if we let them understand that we mean no harm-”

“They won’t let us drink.” Amdis blurted out, uncharacteristically steady as she said her piece. “Even if they knew what we needed they wouldn’t give it. Too scared of being bitten.”

“Well of course they’re scared, it probably hurts.” Scout admitted. “But we can get a system going, Sam has told me about a witch to the east who deals in painkillers, perhaps they’ll help.”

“Yes, perhaps.” Damien said sarcastically, stepping forward. “Or perhaps your human friend is leading you into a death trap.”

Scout was not to be intimidated, glaring up at Damien. “You will not touch him.”

“So I can’t rip out his neck but he can gouge out my heart?” Damien challenged.

“I didn’t say that.” Scout muttered.

“No but you might as well have meant it.” Damien turned to the resting crowd, gesturing to Scout. “They’ve gone soft, ya hear me?”

“Impossible not to.” Cain rolled his eyes, having gone back to whittling his spear. Damien heard his cheek, coming over to glower over the younger lad. 

“You got a problem with me, boy?” Damien asked, his eyes turning a dangerous shade of red. It was bold of him to call Cain a boy when the two were barely separated by a year. Despite his jab, however, Cain did little more than glare up at Damien. 

“Damien, please.” Scout stepped up, giving their brother a reassuring touch. “Just… trust me. This can work.” Damien softened under their gaze.

“Or it could kill us all.” Cain mumbled. 

“Diplomacy is the only way.” Scout announced, turning back to the group. “I say we lay down our weapons and let the humans have their demands.”

“And when they demand our heads?” Damien raised an eyebrow.

“They’re not going to demand our heads.” Scout dodged the question. “Not when they see how compliant we’re acting. It’ll confuse them enough to turn a listening ear. And Sam will vouch for us, we have friends on their side even when it doesn’t seem that way.”

“And what about the blood?” Amdis piped up. “If they won’t take our heads, surely they’ll starve us.”

“They might be hesitant to let us drink in the beginning, true, but we can survive on animal blood until the time comes.” There was a chorus of groaning from the crowd, Scout rushing to ease their complaints. “I know, I know, but it will only be for a short while, I promise. Just long enough for them to see we don’t mean harm.”

“...look.” Damien sighed. “You’re not exactly making a compelling offer, talking about throwing ourselves at their feet and gurgling pig’s blood. But the fact is if I have to spend one more eve locked in here with you lot I will start ripping out your necks.”

“Not if I rip yours first.” Cain assured him, having a similar mindset.

“So if you don’t want to stay here, are you saying you’ll talk to them?” Scout perked up, looking eager.

“I say we give it a shot!” Damien slapped Scout’s back, surprising the group with his agreement. “Worst comes to worst when we get that close we just start killing ‘em.” Scout’s eagerness quickly turned to unease.

“Please don’t.” Scout winced. “That’s not diplomacy.”

“Only bite if they bite first?” Amdis offered a compromise.

“Works for me.” Damien shrugged. “At least it’ll prove we’re better than them. Who’s with me?” The group glanced amongst themselves, but with his vote the general sway seemed to be in diplomacy’s favor. Slowly more vamps stood up, joining the thrawl. After all, vampires tended to be creatures who favored group mentality. Only the most recently turned vampire was still whittling away.

“Cain?” Scout asked, looking at the only one left sitting.

Cain shrugged, finishing off his spear. “You all can go.” He said quietly. 

Scout deflated at his words. “You’re not coming then?”

“Do as you want.” Cain stood up, not looking them in the eye as he gathered up his tools. “I’m heading to the abandoned shack at the edge of the woods, figure it’s as good as any place to set up a home.”

“...okay.” Scout gave him a cautious smile. “Be safe.”

Cain should have said ‘you too’. He hadn’t thought of it, at the time, watching as his coven marched off towards the center of town already alight with glowing torches. He sent one last glance their way, ducking down the alley towards the edge of town.

[breanime]

OT3 Headcannons (Sirius x Reader x James)

Crediting @sonofhistory for the awesome OTP Questions (you can find the original post here) 

*This is for my Sirius Black x Reader x James Potter OT3. You can find my story HERE--it’s n*fw, so read with caution)

Warning: some of these are ~steamy~ in nature

*gifs not mine* (but look at our bad boys)

1) Who rocks the Ferris Wheel seat and who flips out and begs them to stop? James rocks the Ferris Wheel, you freak out, and Sirius alternates between rocking and scolding James for scaring you. The three of you hold hands the entire time, much to the confusion of those around you. 

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place and at any time? Um... James and Sirius both have a HIGH sex drive, Sirius has better stamina then James, though, so he can go for a few rounds with no break. Sirius is also more open to doin’ it anywhere, anytime. However, that doesn’t mean James ain’t down to clown--cause he is. The three of you tend to find yourselves stuffed in closets or under bridges because one of the boys just couldn’t keep his hands--or words--to himself. Lovable lil pervs. 

3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time? James LOVES bathing together, preferably in the tub so he can hold you both and get held. He loved to be in the middle with Sirius behind him and you in his lap, kissing on you both. Sirius actually likes to make it relaxing, washing your hair and lighting candles and playing soothing music. James is usually the one who goes into it with...less than pure intentions, but YOU’RE the one who almost always initiates the sexytime. You just can’t help yourself, they’re both all wet and warm, and their hair is all soft and...mmmmmm......

4) Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on? You like to be naked, and they both yell at you to put clothes on, but for different reasons. James does it because he doesn’t want the neighbors seeing you--that’s for him and Sirius only, and Sirius does it because he can’t concentrate on anything when you’re walking around like that. 

5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight? James. Sirius usually broods until someone goes to him and forces him to talk things out. James is usually the loudest in an argument, and therefore gets banished to the couch until he winds down. You tend to barricade yourself in your room when you’re mad at either of them, and the boys have to try to get you out. But whatever the case, you all usually try to resolve the problem before the night is up.

6) Who takes photos of the other while they sleep? JAMES. He has the two most beautiful people on the blanket who love him, of course he takes photos of them! Plus you look like an angel when you sleep, and Sirius is a living piece of art, so James has to appreciate it!

7) Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”? James said it first, to the both of you at once. He’s the most emotionally stable and open, so it was very easy and natural for him to come out and say it. You usually say “I love you” as a goodbye, when you’re leaving the house or at the end of a letter. Sirius says it in the middle of a fight, when emotions are high and he starts feeling like things are getting out of his control. He also says it when you and James are falling asleep, softly in your ears or whispers it into James’ hair. He’s really just a soft boi at heart. 

8) Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts? YOU. 100% you. You wear Sirius’ leather jacket and James’ Quidditch jersey ALL the time. They think you look simultaneously adorable and hot when you wear their clothes. Sometimes Sirius wears your underwear, and it drives you and James BONKERS. He looks better in them then you do. 

9) Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? Who has the most nightmares, and who sings them back to sleep after? James wakes you up for the cool dream, all wide eyes and low whispers while Sirius listens intently and you grumble and complain about being woken up. Sirius has nightmares the most often, usually about his own family, and you and James sing him to sleep. Sometimes it works right away, and sometimes the two of you put on full performances (complete with costume changes); either way, it relaxes Sirius, and you and James are happy to do it. 

10) Who is more likely to cheat? None of you? Just... no. None of you. 

11) Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship? James, mostly. You usually make fun of yourself for dating them, and Sirius is usually the one saying “a terrible decision, really” when either of you say you love him. 

12) Who starts a food fight in the kitchen? Sirius! He’s a rich bitch who always had plenty of resources, but too many rules, so now that he has his own place with the loves of his life, he’s always down to start chucking food. 

13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer? James initiates them, but you’re usually the one who takes it up a notch and starts impersonating Mariah Carey. Sirius, however, is the better singer out of all of you.  

14) Who starts the hand holding? Who grabs the others butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops? In order of the questions: You, James, Sirius, You again. The three of you are almost always touching in some kind of way. 

15) Who likes writes the others name on their wrist? You. You have Sirius on the right and James on the left. 

16) Who is more seductive when they are drunk? and who is louder in bed? You become one hell of a seductress once that liquor gets in ya, and James is already loud, but once he’s drunk--you and Sirius have to resort to kissing him to shush him. What a drag ;)

17) Who is more protective? All three of you are protective of each other. You’re more vocally protective of Sirius to his family, but James is quick to defend Sirius to Sirius. Sirius is very protective of you and James (don’t pity the dead, Harry, pity the ones who insult or offend Sirius’ bf/gf), and has been known to make things physical if he feels it’s necessary. In the end, all three of you are protective, because all three of you know that the ones you love deserve to be protected. 

18) Who talks to the other while they are sleeping? We’ve already covered that you and James sing Sirius to sleep sometimes, but James sometimes tells you stories or about how much he loves you when you’re sleeping, and Sirius tends to jump in and add in his two cents. 

19) Who drives and who has the window seat? As wizards/witches, you don’t drive much, but Sirius drives his motorbike. He’s considering adding another sidecar, but for now, one rides in the sidecar while the other rides in the seat behind him. 

20) Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed? You hold the title for the sleepiest bitch in the world, so you’re always falling asleep in places that aren’t in the bed. Sirius and James alternate carrying you to bed--yeah, they could use magic, but then they wouldn’t be able to hold you close and hear your little sleepy “thankyoubaby” as they laid you in bed. So they carry you. It’s a win-win. 

21) Who cuts the others hair? You do. You’re the only person alive who Sirius trusts with his hair, though James doesn’t really mind who does his hair most of the time. 

22) Who is super bad at sexting? and who sends them encouraging messages throughout the day? James is horrible at sexting because he just can’t seem to stop himself from making everything into a pun. Sirius is...really, really good at it. Like, disturbingly good. You’re the one who sends the boys messages throughout the day, and you’re really good at knowing when one of them needs an encouraging message and sending them an owl at just the right time. 

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of loosing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry? Sirius is CERTAIN that he isn’t good enough for the two of you, that you and James would be better off without him, that he’s just getting in the way. He gets more and more comfortable with his place in the trio as time goes on, though. James is terrified that he’ll fuck up and lose both of you, and needs constant reassurance, even though he comes off as the most sure. You’re the one who thinks you’re going to mess up, ruin your relationship and friendship, and the boys are always telling you not to worry, that you’re perfect and they love you. All in all, you’re all a bunch of insecure idiots who love each other dearly. 

24) Who starts random slow dancing with the other in the kitchen? Who holds the other just above the ground and kisses them? James. He slow dances with you and plays air guitar with Sirius. Sirius ballroom dances with you both--he’d been trained as a child, and he’s also the one who picks you up and kisses you. You’re usually the one who’s running around and grabbing asses. 

25) Who says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see the other giggle and blush? BOTH of them! You’d think you’d be used to it by now, but you’re not!

26) Who kissed first? Sirius and James kissed first, then Sirius and you, then James and you, and then all three of you. The first time the three of you kissed, soft and slow, James had said: “Shit. Why the hell haven’t we done this sooner?”

27) Who orders take out at two in a morning? and who wakes the other up at three in the morning to go downstairs with them to get a glass of water because it’s too dark? Either of the boys--they’re always hungry. You’re the one who’s waking them up because you heard a noise, or you’re too cold, or you want a drink of water. One of them, usually whoever’s closest to you, will mumble “ok, baby”, take your hand, and take you wherever you need to go. 

28) Who writes poems/stories and love songs about the other? Do they sing the songs the write for them? James writes horrible songs that make you cry from laughing, Sirius writes gorgeous songs that just make you cry, and you walk around the kitchen banging a pot with a spoon while screeching their names over and over. Your house is...not a quiet one. 

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires? James does the stunt, usually with Sirius’s help, and you have to patch them up. 

30) Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute? Sirius is embarrassed, you and James nearly pass out with how cute he looks. 

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

I hope you liked it--I don’t...I don’t even know, ya’ll haha! 

Taglist: @lexxierave @loveintheroyalfamily @suchatinyinfinity@fanfictionrecommendations-com  @maxslime-blog @elanor-of-imladris@songforhema @lucielandss @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @themadhatter92@realduckvader @the-blind-assassin-12 @christinawxxx @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @luminex3 @littlemermaidprobz @ashkuuuu@luckysstrikes @carlaangel86 @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso@teacuplotus @iaintnofurry @thesumofmychoices @ymariejp @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan @whovianayesha @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli @stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @starkrobb@marauderskeeper @charlylama @thesandbeneathmytoes @gollyderek

Sirius Taglist: @thebabblingbookworm @khuangpu13 @miss-nerd95 @thesumofmychoices @belladonnarey

[tommynikkivincemick]

three way call— part 5

Summary: Tommy Lee and Nikki Sixx find themselves in the frustrating predicament of being infatuated with the same woman. This calls for a competition.

Author’s note: So I was gonna put Tommy’s date with Y/N in this chapter but it was already getting super long so I decided the date will get its own chapter. I also tried to do a chapter that wasn’t 90% dialogue but it’s still at least like 75% dialogue. Anyway, here’s the new chapter! Feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy xx

Warnings: Language, sexual conversations, a little toxic masculinity.

Tommy would never admit it out loud to anybody but when Y/N spent the night in Nikki’s room with his face between her legs, he almost cried. He didn’t, because he wasn’t a pussy, but he really wanted to. It was also not good when the thing that woke him up that morning (well, more like afternoon) was more moaning from the bassist’s bedroom. Jesus Christ, Tommy thought, was Nikki’s jaw not sore by now? Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, the drummer rose and went to lock himself in the bathroom for the next hour to shower, brush his teeth, and tease his hair higher than the gods. After a while, he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam and hairspray (still in his underwear, but by god, his hair looked fabulous) to find the other Twin sitting on the couch (also in his underwear) with a cup of coffee.

“Morning, T-Bone,” Nikki said with a surprisingly pleasant smile.

“Morning, Sixx,” Tommy replied suspiciously, “Where’s Y/N?”

“Still sleeping.”

“Were you not just eating her out a little while ago?” The younger Twin asked, pouring a cup of coffee for himself and grabbing a cigarette from his pack to smoke, trying hard not to sound bitter.

“Yeah, y’know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day and all that,” Nikki’s smile settled into a cocky smirk, “But she went back to sleep right after.”

“Really? I thought it was dessert,” Tommy commented, taking a seat beside the bassist and lighting his cigarette.

“Why the fuck would it be dessert?”

“Well I figure after I take her out for dinner and drinks tonight, Y/N will make a nice sweet treat.”

Nikki elbowed Tommy and the drummer laughed. They sat in silence for a few minutes, getting their caffeine and nicotine fixes.

“We gotta stop fighting, man,” Tommy said finally.

“It’s not fighting, it’s... banter,” Nikki dismissed.

“Well whatever it is, we gotta stop picking at each other all the time. It’s stressing out Y/N and I don’t like it either. I know we have this dumb bet but I don’t wanna lose you in the process, dude. You’re still my best friend and shit, you know.”

“Yeah, I get it. This is a whole fucked up situation. It sounded fun, but a couple days in and it’s already starting to be a drag. Not to be a little bitch, but you’re like my brother, I don’t wanna lose you either.”

“That’s a little gay, guys,” Vince yawned, emerging from his room.

“Dude we said we love each other, we didn’t say we wanna suck each other’s dicks,” Tommy laughed.

“Wouldn’t you, though?” The blonde mused pouring milk and sugar into a cup of coffee in the kitchen.

“NO!” Both Twins yelled, their cheeks turning a vivid shade of red.

“Mhm, okay,” Vince hummed dismissively, sitting in a chair near the couch, “So how goes the bet, boys?”

The Twins both groaned in exhaustion.

“She loves both of us, and it’s hell,” Nikki sighed.

“And we don’t wanna ruin our friendship in the process, which is also a hard thing to do,” Tommy added.

Vince nodded thoughtfully, but didn’t reply, as his eyes said all he needed to say: sounds like a you problem.

“So Tom, are you taking her out tonight?” The blonde said, changing the subject.

The drummer nodded with a smile.

“Yeah man, nothing too fancy. I think we might go out to that state park in Malibu, see the stars. She likes stars. We’ll probably go eat beforehand and then get some bottles and go out there and, y’know, see what happens.”

“Wine, dine, and sixty-nine; solid plan,” Nikki nodded.

“She’ll like that: Malibu is nice,” Vince agreed, “I’ve been meaning to take Lovey up there sometime.”

“Lovey is a cunt,” Nikki said automatically without even a moments thought.

“Hey, man— actually, you’re kind of right,” The singer shrugged.

“Who’s talking about that cunt, Lovey?” A female voice chimed in from Nikki’s bedroom.

“Nikki called her that— he didn’t even think about it!” Vince tried to keep himself from laughing about his friend insulting his girlfriend.

“Sorry— it’s a conditioned response. Like how a dog drools when Pavlov rings a bell? I call Lovey a cunt whenever I hear her name,” Nikki explained with a smirk, “Morning, gorgeous, how was your night?”

Y/N tilted the bassist’s chin up with her fingertips and gently kissed his lips.

“It was a good night, of course. Wanna maybe go fix me some coffee?” She asked the bassist.

He nodded and rose from the couch to go to the kitchen. She took his spot next to Tommy and settled into his side, her head on his shoulder.

“Sleep well?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Hm, well enough. What about you?” The drummer asked, in turn looking down at her.

“Like the dead,” She sighed, and then whispered, “I’m sorry if you heard anything from Nikki’s room last night. I don’t know how thick the walls are and I was drunk and—“

“It’s okay, baby, I get it; we all want. And I know you love Nikki, I don’t blame ya.”

She leaned up slightly and pecked him on the lips.

“But I love you, too, you know that, right?” She asked.

“I know, sweetheart, I love you too,” He said with a charming smile, leaning down and kissing her again, a little deeper, but keeping it short.

The more intimate Y/N became with the Twins, the more she noticed their subtle differences. For example, their scents; Nikki smelled like expensive whiskey (despite drinking mostly Jack Daniels), leather, luxurious pipe tobacco, blood, and incense. Tommy smelled like sand and surf, clean lime, sage, peppermint, and what might be sandalwood— though above both of them hung a thick layer of cigarette smoke and the liquor of the night. Where Nikki was dark and brooding, Tommy was bright and bubbly. Nikki’s love was all consuming and intense; Tommy’s love was easy and exuberant. If Nikki was a glass of wine, Tommy was a margarita. Tommy was an angel and Nikki was a devil. It was jarring how two totally different people could somehow look and act just alike.

She supposed that was part of the reason she loved them both so much; they were yin and yang but hey, to the eye they were both black and white. Both beautiful with sharp cheekbones and jawlines, fluffy black hair, sparkling eyes (Nikki’s were a bluish shade of hazel while Tommy’s were on the green and brown side), towering height, lean builds, kissable lips, and heartbreaking smiles. They were truly two sides of the same coin.

Nikki has to admit as he watched Y/N curl up with Tommy that they looked good together, slotting against one another like puzzle pieces. But little did he know that Tommy thought the same about her with him. The truth was that they brought out different sides of her; with Nikki she explored the side of herself that was a jaded, experienced, sensual heartbreaker of a woman, and with Tommy she felt like a young girl experiencing real love for the first time.

“You know what’s weird?” Vince piped up, breaking everyone’s focus, “That Y/N works so well with both of you guys. Like, if I was a girl, I could definitely put a ring on Tommy, but I would kill Nikki in cold blood in the first month.”

“I’d probably cheat on you, Vinnie,” Tommy joked, “But if Nikki was a chick? I’d never cheat on him because I know he would like carve my heart out and offer my soul to Satan or something.”

“You wouldn’t cheat on me anyway!” Nikki laughed as he returned from the kitchen, handing Y/N her cup of coffee, “We’re soulmates, man. If I were a woman, you’d be so deeply in love with me, you wouldn’t even think about another girl, not even Y/N. Plus, I mean, I’d be sexy as fuck as a chick.”

“I’d be hot as a chick, too. I think if we were girls, we’d be lesbians,” Tommy mused, “No matter what we are, one thing would be constant: we would love the ladies and the ladies would love us. Y/N, would you still be into us if we were girls?”

“Hm...” She hummed in thought, looking over the two of them, “Yeah, I’d still be down. You two already kind of look like ladies, with the makeup and the hair and the heels. It wouldn’t be so different.”

“We do not look like ladies!” Vince protested.

Y/N finished her coffee and got her clothes on and threw her hair up with a red scrunchy before going home to get ready to go out again. She showered and did her hair and put on makeup, but then came the time to pick an outfit. She didn’t know what she and Tommy would be doing; he told her it was a surprise. So, she called him.

“Mötley residence, Mick speaking.”

“Oh, hey, when did you go over?” She asked.

“About an hour ago. How was last night? Vince said you and Nikki got down and dirty,” The guitarist asked, trying not to sound too much like a gossipy hairdresser.

“We didn’t go all the way, if that’s what you’re asking. Nikki wanted to go down on me, and it sounded good so I let him. And that was... wow. He could have a good future as a prostitute, let’s put it that way,” She dished with a wistful smile on her recently red painted lips.

“Very interesting. And you’re going out with Tommy tonight, right?”

“Yeah, I actually called to ask him something.”

“Is he gonna get a taste tonight?”

“Quit being a gossip, Mars man!” She laughed, “Besides, I’ll tell you and Vince how tonight goes, anyway. Now would you please put Tommy on?”

“Sure thing, kid. TOMMY, PHONE FOR YOU!” Mick yelled into the house.

Y/N heard a clattering in the background before the desired voice came over the line.

“Mötley residence, Tommy speaking,” The drummer greeted with a chipper tone.

“Hello, Tommy, my love,” She grinned, twisting the phone cord around her fingers.

“Oh, hey! What’s happening, hot stuff?” She could practically hear his smile.

“I just wanted to ask what I should wear; I don’t know where we’re going, so...”

“Hm. Uh, something comfortable. Maybe something with another layer on top? It might get cold. But if you don’t want to, I’ll give you my sweatshirt or something, I don’t mind, and I always have a jacket in the van—“

“Tommy, babe, I’ll just break it down, ok? Boots, sneakers, flats, or heels?”

“Definitely not heels. I vote boots,” He replied.

“Dress, skirt, shorts, or pants?” She asked.

“Skirt, but wear tights or something. Like I said, it might get cold.”

“Honey, I don’t think my fishnets are really gonna help me,” She smirked.

“I just think you look sexy in a skirt, that’s all. Especially that black leather one,” He hinted.

“That was the plan. Okay, thank you, baby, that’s all I needed,” She concluded.

“Alright! I’ll pick you up in a little bit,” He said excitedly.

“Alright. Love you, bye,” She said. M

“Love you, bye.”

She finally decided on black leather boots, the leather skirt and fishnets (as requested by the lovesick drummer), a red, off the shoulder top, and no jacket because truth be told, she kind of wanted to borrow Tommy’s; it was a little beat up and worn in, but that only made it more comfortable, plus it smelled like him. As she sprayed perfume on her neck, as if on cue, the doorbell rang.

“IT’S OPEN!” She yelled as she fine tuned the details of her outfit.

She heard the door open and close and heavy footsteps on the wood floor. A pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind and a pair of lips found her neck.

“You know, you shouldn’t just say the door is open when someone rings the bell. I could have been a serial killer,” The familiar voice of Tommy murmured in her ear.

“You’d kill me if you were a serial killer?”

“Oh, for sure,” He laughed and turned her around to face him, “But let’s be real, if anybody in Mötley Crüe was a murderer, it would be Nikki.”

“Absolutely.”

The drummer leaned down and kissed her lips gingerly before throwing his arm over her shoulder as they left her apartment. He opened the door of his van for her and got in the drivers seat. Y/N glanced in the rear view mirror at the back of the van; he had cleaned it up, which was nice. There were blankets, pillows, a large cooler, and a little lantern in the back.

“Are we going camping?” She asked.

“Kind of, but not really. I was gonna take you out to eat but I decided it would be better to pack everything into one experience, so I just got takeout from that hotdog place you like on La Brea, and doughnuts for dessert,” Tommy explained as he backed out of the parking lot and got on the road.

“Well, where are we going?” She asked impatiently.

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He winked at her and laced his fingers with hers, driving into the night.

Tag list: @jayprettymuchomw @kayladurin @crazysaladchopshop @iamtiber-andtiberismusic @loveofmyloif @saints-of-the-universe @tommyfuckinlee @oh-well1 @cranberribread @princesadeltoro @prostidudes-for-justice @miriampraez @tarahell

[mikkomacko]

Wonderwall 1

"You're gonna be the one that saves me."

~

I had seen him around, everyone had. It's hard not to notice the Harry Styles, slayer of Lord Voldemort and girls hearts. He's popular, in a unconventional way. Everyone knows him and everyone adores him, but he's not the kind of boy that has a million friends. He has two extremely close ones, Liam Payne and Niall Horan. Sometimes Louis Tomlinson hangs around him but that's when he's not macking on his girlfriend.

People are drawn to him, whisper about him, giggle when he passes by. He's a sort of ghost while also being a living legend. Of course, the mystery of how he managed to survive the killing curse, cast upon him by Lord Voldemort, gave him a magnetic field that draws people in.

It's that, and his devilishly handsome looks, that I blame my connection with him for. Since the first day of school, seeing him be sorted into Gryffindor house, I've known that something was different between us. I could tell by the way he froze when he saw me, green eyes wide and curious. It had felt like we had this zing rush up our spines. And ever since then, we've been odd around each other. We never really spoke, for not only am I forbidden, but neither of us enjoyed the energy that took over when we communicated.

I thought it had something to do with magic, and I was right of course, but it wasn't as simple as I thought. I thought our spirits collided because we were different, we were polar opposites. We collided because a witch, with the eyes of a hawk and a brain of a dung beetle, spoke it forth. Harry Styles and I collided, because we were destined to.

~

"Lily!"

The Hogwarts Express blows out a warning whistle, steam hissing out to fill Platform 9 3/4. I thank the bell hop that has taken our luggage, turning to grab Zayn so we can board.

He's wrapped up in his mom's arms, not really hugging her back because he's too cool for that, but pressing his face into her shoulder. Like usual, his mother wipes tears from her eyes and pats his cheeks.

Zayn's sister, Zhavia is next to be pulled into a bone crushing hug. Unlike her older brother, she easily hugs her mom back, face hidden in her chest. Zhavia receives a pat on the cheeks as well.

"Alright you three," Their mother breathes, reaching out to me. I step closer, gladly excepting her hug. "onto the train now. Wouldn't want you to miss school this year."

"Yes you would." Zayn says, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. I chuckle at him, grabbing his outstretched hand and waving goodbye to his mom.

"Bye mum!" Zayn calls over his shoulder, pulling me along with him. We board the train, turning left to go to our usual compartment. As always, it's empty and Zayn tosses his bag onto the left bench and I take the right.

"Can I sit with you?" Zhavia asks timidly, poking her head in. I shrug, giving her a nod of approval. Zayn sighs but doesn't argue so his sister plops down on the bench next to him.

Zayn looks around at us for a moment. He's frowning, more than usual, meaning he's contemplating something in his head. Zhavia gives him an innocent smile, picking up on his behavior as well. Zayn switches his gaze from his sister to me.

"Did you bring the bottle?" He asks quietly.

I nod, lifting up my backpack from the ground and patting it. The plastic bottle caves under the pressure but pops back up after.

"Good," Zayn grins. "I brought my candies."

"What candies?"

Zayn, Zhavia, and I all freeze. In the compartment door that we happened to leave open, stands none other than Harry Styles.

"None of your business." Zayn tells him, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry shrugs, shouldering his way into the compartment. He places his bag on the rack over head, falling into the seat next to me.

"Alright?" He asks, dimples on full display as he pats my knee. My breathe gets caught in my throat. His eyes, a warm spring green, stare at mine and I remember that I'm supposed to act like I don't know the plushiness of his lips or the strength of his fingers.

I nod, quickly removing my gaze from him to the boys that are shuffling into the compartment as well. Across from me, Zayn is glaring at Harry while Zhavia looks at him with heart eyes. I'm not sure which look I hate more.

~

The train compartment is humid and stuffy, filled not only by seven Hogwarts students, but also the wrappers of all the sweets Harry purchased for the group of us (that ended up being eaten mostly by Niall).

Zayn is brooding, obviously displeased that we're stuck with four Gryffindor boys. I know it's partially my fault, they're all here because Harry's here, and Harry's here because I'm here. Even so, I didn't believe Harry would sit with us and I really didn't think he'd bring his gang.

After minutes of tangible awkwardness, Liam clears his throat, the sound loud in the little compartment. "What do your parents do Zayn?" Liam asks, doing his best to smile at my pouting best friend.

"My mom works in real estate, sells houses and stuff, and my dad's not around." Zayn mumbles, not moving an inch. His gaze is fixed on the window, arms locked over his chest and legs crossed at the ankle. Zhavia discreetly elbows him.

"Oh," Liam breathes, obviously not expecting to hear that Zayn's dad isn't in the picture. Everyone falls silent again, Liam and Niall looking between Zayn and I.

"I hear your parents are dentists, right Liam?" I ask, desperate for something else to be said. I don't think I can handle another second being squished between the window and Harry, slowly suffocating on the tension.

"Yeah!" Liam beam, eagerly leaning forward. "My dad got bit once, had to get a bunch of stitches."

"That's crazy." I force a grin, not particularly excited by the story but glad that Liam has begun to speak more. "I went to the dentist when I was little. I got to pick out this finger trap toy but I got my dad's fingers stuck in it and he ended up lighting it on fire. Never went back after that."

Liam laughs, nodding his head as if he knows exactly what I'm talking about. "Wow," He heaves, chocolate brown eyes gleaming. "I didn't know wizard kids went to the dentist."

"They don't." I explain with a shrug. "But my mom was raised by muggles so she kind of pushed their practices on me."

"Niall's dad loves muggles." Harry pipes up, nodding towards Niall. Niall's eyes widen, glaring at Harry for bringing him into the conversation. "Maybe you can have Lily chat with your dad one of these days, he'd love that." Harry says to Niall.

Niall huffs, pursing his lips as if he's thinking of a response. After a moment of consideration, he nods. "Maybe for Easter holiday or something you can come visit." Niall grumbles, not sounding too pleased with the offering.

"Oh," I respond, pretending to think it over. I don't want Niall forcing himself to be nice to me because of Harry. It doesn't matter that I kissed his best friend last year, Niall Horan and I don't get along and it should stay that way. "I don't know. I'm probably busy, ya know stealing from children, killing puppies, the usual Slytherin things."

I give him an overly polite smile, shrugging. "Don't forget beating up the elderly." Zayn adds, finally looking over at Niall. He too, gives Niall a fake grin, squeezing my foot that's stretched across the cabin and resting on his lap. "It's kind of a tradition in our house."

"Sounds fun," Louis peaks over Harry's shoulder and gives a cheeky grin. "Can I join?"

~

Taking a sip of my pumpkin juice, I find the nervous eyes of Zhavia Malik at the Ravenclaw table. It's obvious she's trying to get Zayn's attention but he's too busy filling his pockets with dinner rolls to notice.

Zhavia gives me a helpless look, the same eyes that her brother has, brimming with tears. Knowing that, while Zayn loves his sister, he's awful at comforting people, I set my goblet down on the table and climb off the bench.

"I'll be right back." I tell Zayn, waving Zhavia towards the doors of The Great Hall. She's quick to jump up, following me out the double doors and around the corner so I can speak to her privately.

"What's the matter?" I ask, plopping down on one of the cement stairs. She's follows, swiftly sitting down and hugging her knees to her chest.

"I don't think I should be in Ravenclaw." She says shyly.

"The fact that you put a lot of thought into this is further proof that you should."

She huffs, flopping her head down to rest on her knees. She speaks through the fabric of her robes. "But I really thought I'd be in Slytherin with you and Z."

"No you didn't." I say softly, placing an arm around her thin shoulders. "You hoped you would be but that's not who you are. You're far too clever for Slytherin."

"What if no one in Ravenclaw likes me?"

"Like that would ever happen." I snort. "You're just like Zayn, I'm sure everyone wants to be friends with you. But if you ever need anything when we're not around, I want you to go find Hagrid or Professor McGonagall and ask them to come get us, ok?"

Zhavia lifts her head, hopeful eyes meeting mine. "You really mean that?" I nod, squeezing her in a brief hug.

"Thanks Lily." She murmurs.

"Of course." I reply. "Now get in there and finish dinner, they should be bringing out the sweets soon."

Giggling, Zhavia rises to her feet. She takes off in front of me, disappearing around the corner and back into The Great Hall. Sighing to myself, I follow. I'm rounding the corner, dusting off my robes when I bump into someone.

"Shit, sorry-"

"Alright?" Harry interrupts, his hands grabbing me around my arms, gently pushing me back around the corner and against the corridor wall.

I peer up at him, curiously waiting for him to explain what he's doing out here. He grins down at me, thumbs brushing back and forth on my arms.

"You alright?" He repeats, softer this time. He takes a step forward, close enough that I can feel his hips against mine.

"Yeah." I say. My eyes stay stuck on his, my brain reeling with the memory of him holding me against this exact wall last year when he had kissed me for the first time.

The left side of his mouth lifts into a smile that's topped off by one of his infamous dimples. "You're too sweet to be in Slytherin."

I grin. "And you're too dorky to be in Gryffindor."

"I guess both of us look pretty deceiving." He responds and if it weren't for the warmth in his eyes, I'd have taken his words negatively.

Before I get the chance to retort, the hands on my arms are cupping my face, drawing me forward and a familiar pair of lips are slotting together with mine. My own hands grab onto his robe, tugging him even closer to soak in the heat that pours from his body over mine, knowing I'll need it for the cold night in Slytherin common room.

~

"Sometimes I wish we weren't so cool."

I snort at Zayn's words, looking up from the potions book I was reading. He's draped across the bottom half of the black leather couch, the green lanterns behind him casting a mystic glow around him.

"I mean it," He grunts as he sits up, straightening out the collar of his black robes. "If we weren't so cool, I could find other people worthy of my company and not have to follow you around as you follow Harry Styles around."

"I'm not following him around!" I whisper harshly, swatting at Zayn's arm. I cast a look around the common room, checking to make sure no one heard. Slytherins aren't very fond of Gryffindors, let alone Harry Styles.

"Sorry," Zayn rolls his eyes. "I forgot that you're just 'keeping an eye on him.'" I scoff at him, shutting my book and tossing it at him. It smacks into his shoulder and falls to the floor with a clatter.

"Do you mind?" Pansy Parkinson shouts from across the room, causing a bunch of first years to flinch. "We're trying to talk over here, Jackals."

"Sorry Pansy." I huff, reaching down to pick up my book. She gives me what I assume is a smile, ducking her head down to continue her discussion with Merula Kane and Elizabeth Riot.

"Anyway," I whisper, scooting closer to Zayn so I can keep my voice down. "I'm just doing what my parents asked of me and it's awkward enough so please don't make it worse."

Zayn gives a small laugh. "It's only awkward when you're with his friends, especially Niall. When you're not paying attention to them, the two of you look quite comfortable with each other."

"What?" I gawk, staring at Zayn in bewilderment. "It's always been extremely awkward around him, I've told you this and you said-"

"I know what I said." Zayn cuts off, taking my book from me with caution. I let him pull it out of my hand and tuck it under his arm. "And I know, you get this weird, like vibe from him but as I've said before, that's just the sexual tension between you two."

"I can't believe you!" I hiss, cheeks burning at his words but stomach swooping pleasantly. "I don't want to fuck him!"

"Yes you do." Zayn laughs, catching my wrist when I swing my hand at him again. "That's why you're always so weird about talking to him. And why you look at him every time he comes into the room."

Too worked up to say anything, I settle back into the couch and bring my knees to my chest to hide the fact that I feel like Zayn can physically see my heart pounding against my rib cage.

"If I'm being honest," Zayn murmurs, bumping his elbow against mine. "I think this all started when your dad actually forbid you from speaking to him."

"Would you stop!"

"Just hear me out!" He begs around a chuckle. "You've always thought he was hot and then your dad not letting you talk to him makes him even more hot and now you're being 'forced' to spend time with him. This is all just coming back to bite your dad in the ass."

"Excellent theory," I say sarcastically. "but I'm not spending time with him. I've said two words to him since the whole Hogwarts Express thing so explain that."

"Alright." Zayn smirks, eagerly rubbing his hands together. "You've noticed that he makes you all hot and bothered so you're proud not talking to him. But somehow you always manage to get caught up in his messes. Like the whole Sirius Black thing."

"That was an accident brought on by my father."

"What about the Tournament then, huh? You were awful worried about him."

"Only because he was being chased down by an Azkaban escapee!"

"Stop making excuses!" Zayn growls lightly. "If you opened your eyes for two seconds you'd see that you and him are into each other. That's why you let him kiss you last year, you didn't feel bad for him. You're into him."

Not wanting to discuss this anymore, I reach around him and rip my book free of his hold. Ignoring his smug smirk, I flip it back open to the chapter on identifying poisonous potions and continue reading.

~

The sun shimmers off the Black Lake, casting a glow over the cut of Zayn's cheekbones and jaw. I roll my eyes, irritated that no matter where Zayn is sat he seems to always look perfect. In the warmth of the summer, wearing only a black tee-shirt and jeans, he looks like he should be on the cover of The Rolling Stone. In the dungeon, where the lanterns and the lake cast eerie shadows, he looks like he should be the bad boy of a teen romance movie. It's not fair that someone is allowed to look so good all the time.

Puffing out a breath of air, I push my dark hair out of my face and sheild myself in Zayn's shadow. I continue adding the recipe of chemicals the Horan twins asked for that would allow a firework to burn for ten minutes while in motion.

"What are you huffing about?" Zayn questions, squinting at me from under his thick eyelashes.

"S'just hot." I reply, not wanting to tell him that I think he's got a veela somewhere in his line of ancestry.

"You always complain about how cold the dungeons are but now that you're finally getting some warmth, you're still complaining." He tsks. "There's no pleasing ya, is there Jackals?"

"Whatever," I groan but I'm unable to stop the smile pulling at my lips. My favorite thing about Zayn has always been how easily we get on. Since the first train ride to Hogwarts, Zayn's been by my side with a witty comment on the tip of his tongue to follow my sarcastic ones.

"I take it back." Zayn chuckles. "I think I found something that'll please ya."

Not particularly listening to him, I double check the potions book that's laying in the grass. "What's that?"

"Styles and the rest of his 'holier-than-thou' friends are heading over here." I look up at Zayn, ink blotting the parchment I was scribbling on as I push down too hard.

"Fuck," I mumble, hoping it dries quickly. I look up just as Zayn sends a wave towards the gang of Gryffindors that's being led by Harry himself.

"Zayn," Harty greets, nodding. "nice to see ya again. Mind if we sit? The weather's awful nice today."

Zayn shrugs. Harry falls onto the grass next to me, shrugging off his robe and leaving him in just a white button up with his tie falling down his broad chest. Louis, Niall, and Liam do the same.

"Alright?" He ask me. I nod.

"Hi Lily." Liam greets, smiling at me. "How have ya been?"

"I've been good." I say, looking down at my lap to check if the ink dried. Once it has, I begin writing again.

"What have ya got there?" Harry asks, leaning over my shoulder to see what I've been writing.

"S'for Fred and George." I say, lightly nodding towards Niall as if Harry wouldn't know the older Horan boys.

"What is it though?" He pries.

"For their fireworks." I reply simply.

"They're trying to make one that lasts longer and she's got a knack for potions so they asked her for help." Zayn explains, blowing his hair out of his face.

"You're really that good at potions?" Niall asks. Out of the corner of my eye I see Liam elbow him. "Sorry, I just thought Snape gave ya good marks because you're Slytherin."

I ignore him, not really knowing what to say. They've never interacted with Zayn and I like this before. Sometimes Harry would approach me after meals for light conversation but not once has he and his friends sat with us.

"I'm awful at it." Louis tells me, bumping my knee with his foot. "Maybe you could help me out some time?"

"We could have like a group thing!" Liam jumps in. "I need to improve my marks in there too!"

I shut my potions book, setting the parchment on top of it to dry. I meet Liam's eager gaze, trying to keep the confused look off my face.

"The first time you spoke to me was three weeks ago. " I turn to Louis. "You stole my homework last year after I worked on it for a whole night." I look at Niall. "You told the whole school I was petrifying people in Second Year." I look at Harry. "And no matter how much I try to help you, Snape would never give you high marks."

They all give me guilty looks, except for Harry who just nods and looks down at his lap. "This is why everyone tells ya your bitchy." Zayn snorts, elbowing me.

"Yeah ok, Mr. Brooding." I scoff. "I've never seen any fifth year with as many frowning lines as you."

"Least I'm not mean."

"You just implied that I was being a bitch when I was actually being honest." I argue. Zayn shrugs, smirking at me before returning his gaze to the Black Lake.

"Alright," Niall sighs. "We've been dicks to you, especially me, and we're sorry. You're just so scary, it's hard to be friendly with ya."

Zayn snorts as if to trying to say "I told you so."

"Why do you want to be friendly with me anyway?" I ask, choosing to not comment on my "scary" looks.

"We just thought it'd be nice to be friends with you." Harry says softly. "Especially after what happened last year."

I hum, thinking over Harry's words. Just like Zayn, the sun shines through his curly hair and highlights his face. He looks like he's been casted in gold and laid out in a museum. Even squinting into the sun he's gorgeous, dimples sunken in his cheeks. Warmth pools in my stomach but I'll blame it on the heat.

"Technically, I can't tell you what to do." I say, giving Harry a sly look. "So you're free to hang out wherever you want and if I just so happen to be there, then I promise to not be a bitch."

Harry smirks, dimples sinking even more. He gives me a nod, pushing a hand through his messy hair. For a brief second, the scar on his forehead is visible but his hair falls to cover it before I can get a closer look at it.

Louis and Liam begin chatting about some candy they tried last night, making Niall and Harry focus on them. I meet Zayn's gaze, rolling my eyes at his smug smile. It's the same one he gave me after claiming Harry and I fancy each other.

I blow him off, leaning my back against his shoulder so I can listen to Louis speak. I end up watching Harry, admiring the curves of his nose and lips. It's really not fair that someone is allowed to look so fucking good all the time.

~

Sighing heavily at the sight of the defense against the dark arts classroom, I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder.

"Let's get this over with." Zayn mutters, glaring at the doorway. I huff out another breath, taking the lead and entering the classroom. I follow the aisle between the desks, faltering when I get to the table Zayn and I usually sit at. In Zayn's seat sits Harry Styles, casually leaning back to speak to Niall, who is sat at their usual table.

"What?" I mumble, looking back at Zayn. He rolls his eyes, stomping his feet and taking the seat next to Niall. I fall into the seat next to Harry, slamming my text book onto the desk a little too loud.

Harry looks to me with a concerned furrow in his brow. "Alright Lily?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I mumble, placing my forehead in my palm to try and will away the blush that's creeping up my neck and burning my ears.

"Ya don't look fine lovie." Harry says quietly. He turns his body towards me, knee knocking into my thigh and warming my skin. "What's wrong?"

"I just didn't sleep well." I sigh, chest feeling heavy as my mind replays the nightmare I had last night.

"Bad dream?"

I nod, rubbing my knuckle into my eye without even thinking about the mascara I probably smeared everywhere.

"Want to talk about it?"

Yawning gently, I meet Harry's eyes through my blurry gaze and give him a closed lip smile, shaking my head.

Harry nods, sympathy etched into every corner of his handsome face. Umbridge enters the classroom and I don't hesitate to lie my head on my arms and fall into a nap-like state as she drones on. I'm on the verge of actually falling asleep, my body heavy and numb but mind still aware when someone clears their throat, the sound akin to that of a frog.

Sighing in irritation, I lift my head to find none other than Umbridge glaring down at me, her ugly pink bow casting a shadow over her eyes.

"Hello professor," I smile innocently. "love the bow. I hear Voldemort has a green one, do you guys trade off every once in awhile?"

Snickers break out across the room, Harry's being the most prominent. My lips quirk up into a proud smirk.

"Why are you sleeping in my class?"

"I'm just preparing for all the sitting and waiting I'll be doing when the Death Eaters are torturing me." I deadpan. "Since, you know, I'm not learning to cast spells or anything."

"As I've said before," Umbridge hisses, her lips twisted into an overly kind smile. "there is no dark magic waiting for you out there. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is gone!"

I hum, thoughtfully. "Maybe I should call up Diggorey and ask him. Oh wait," I fake a gasp. "I can't because Voldemort killed him."

Once again, snicker echo throughout the otherwise silent room.

"Detention Ms. Jackals." Umbridge grits, already turning on her obnoxiously pink heels and storming away.

Sighing, I grab my bag off the floor and sling it over my shoulder. "See ya Harry." I mutter, climbing out of my seat and grabbing my book. I turn to look at Zayn.

I tap my knuckles on his textbook. "Good luck, Z."

I make my way through the desks, mind foggy as I think of returning to Slytherin common room for a much needed nap before my detention. I'm almost to the doorway when Umbridge calls out my name again.

I turn on my heel to look at her, faking a smile.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I nudge my thumb in the direction of the doorway behind me. "Figured I'd go prepare for the mental anguish that is writing lines."

"One of these days, that smart mouth of yours will get you in a lot of trouble."

I smirk, tossing my textbook into the trash next to the door with a loud thump. "I'm counting on it."

Ignoring Umbridge's glare, I spin around and exit the room, smiling at the thought of my pillowy bed waiting for me.

~

The painful throbbing behind my eyes does nothing to dull the stinging of Umbridge's lines on the back of my hand. After three hours of writing lines, the quill scratching the letters into the back of my hand, Umbridge had given up on my lack of tears and now even more heavily instilled attitude towards her.

I drag my feet away from her office, hand clenching and unclenching, reveling in the brief half a second that it goes numb. The corridor is dark, the candle lights casting shadows across the walls. A few feet ahead, nose stuck in a book sits a familiar boy with familiar floppy curls.

My lips quirk up into a grateful smile when I spot him. He's changed out of his robes, now clad in a dark green hoodie and a pair of tight black jeans. His usual brown boots sit on his feet, the toe of his left one curling into his right one.

"Harry?" I ask even though I know it's him. His head snaps up, eyes lighting up when he sets his gaze on me. He shuts his book, placing it on the bench next to him and clambering to his feet.

He meets me halfway down the hallway, his pace quicker than usual. As soon as I'm in arm's length, he's reaching for my hands. Out of instinct, I tug my left one back and tuck it behind me.

Frowning, Harry tugs me closer by my left hand. "Let me see it, lovie." He urges, free hand slipping around my waist and hooking his fingers around my wrist. I let him pull my hand forward, focusing on the candle burning against the wall so I don't have to look at the disappointment on his face as he reads the words written in blood.

I must respect Umbridge and her big, fat mouth

His thumb tickles over the unwounded part of my hand. He lets out a tiny laugh, so quiet I wouldn't have heard it if it weren't for how closely were standing to each other.

"I'm assuming that's not what she asked you to write?"

"Technically it is." I answer. "I just added my own touch. If I'm going to scar, might as well personalize it."

He drops my right hand, instead cupping the back of my neck in his warm palm. I shiver at his touch, meeting his gaze. His eyes, mossy and mysterious as the Forbidden Forest, watch me intently with a sort of warmth that I can feel bubbling in my stomach.

"You're too much." He whispers, squeezing my neck softly.

"It's my specialty." I grin, nudging my shoe against his.

"Lucky you're cute," He murmurs, dimples sinking into the plushy part of his cheeks. I find myself dreaming of pressing my lips into them.

"Why's that?"

"I'd be biting your head off for antagonizing her if it weren't for how sweet you look right now."

Humming, I let my body fall into his and tuck my nose into the thick column of his throat. He smells of cinnamon and pine with a hint of campfire and it makes my toes curl.

"Do you not like being seen with me?"

His words take me by surprise, his voice still soft but not as confident as before. I wrap my free arm around his waist, shaking my head softly.

"I just don't want the drama that will instill if we tell everyone. " I say, keeping my answer vague. I don't exactly want to tell him that I'm afraid of the way my father will treat him if he finds out.

Harry stays silent. I pull back enough to look at him, knocking my lips against the bottom of his chin. "Think of all the shit we'll get from our houses. I'd like to enjoy being snuggled up to you without Kane or Parkinson biting our heads off."

"Wouldn't it be worth it?" Harry asks, using his chin to gently nudge me to look up at him. "Getting to hold your hand all the time? Walk ya to class? Know I'd take good care of you, lovie."

"I know." I respond immediately. One of the first things that drew me to Harry was how kind he is. Whether it be the fact that I didn't receive this kind of protection at home growing up or if I'm just a sucker for Harry, doesn't matter because I love how open I feel when it's just him and I.

"Will you think about it?" He breathes, breath fanning over my blushing cheeks. "For me?"

I nod, blinking sluggishly when he leans closer to me and pecks his lips between my eyes. "Thank you Lily."

"Of course." I whisper, leaving my eyes shut as he pecks the tip of my nose. "Anything for you, H."

My breath catches in my chest, finally feeling his lips mesh with mine for a tender kiss that makes my chest ache for more. I let my eyes flutter open when he pulls away, meeting his dopey gaze and realizing how utterly fucked I am when I notice his hoodie brings out the darkest green of his eyes, but standing in the empty corridor, wrapped up in him I don't care what my father or anyone else has to say about us.

[queen-ofsunflowers]

Ruby Rose of Class 1-A: Chapter Seven Preview

“We’ve been going over our own fights, but anyone have a favorite?” asked Eijirou Kirishima, a boy with spiky red hair who could turn his skin as hard as stone. “Ya know, that’s not theirs?” There was a moment of silence as the class thought about the question.

“Todoroki didn’t hold back at all,” said Hanta Sero, a boy who could shoot out tape from his elbows as he leaned back against his desk. “I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that kind of attack.”

“What about Tokoyami and Tsu?” said Mina Ashido, a girl who was completely pink, with the exception of her horns and raccoon-like eyes who was able to secrete acid from her skin. She turned to the two students in question. “You guys worked together so easily! Unlike us.”

“We did just fine, thank you,” said Yuga Aoyama, the boy from the quirk test yesterday with the belly button laser. And had also been Ashido’s partner during the training exercise earlier that day.

“You’re still mad about the acid, don’t deny it!” Aoyama said nothing. Ruby bit back a giggle thinking about their match: some of Ashido’s acid had dripped onto Aoyama’s costume. To say he was not happy about it was a bit of an understatement.

“I think the fight between Bakugo and Midoriya takes the cake, though,” said Rikido Sato, a boy who Ruby thought had one of the best Quirks in existence. “They pretty much gave it their all.”

“What about you, Ruby?” asked Ochako, turning to the girl herself. “You have a favorite?” Ruby thought about it, going through all of the battles in her head. Everyone’s was different, and everyone had something great about the way that they fought and used their Quirks.

“I’m not sure,” she said after a moment. “Everybody did so great during their mock battles! It’s hard to pick just one.”

“You did pretty good during your fight, too,” said Tsuyu. To that, Ruby only sighed.

“Could’ve done a lot better.” For one, she could’ve acted more like a villain and less like… well, like herself.

“I have to agree,” said the bird-headed boy who had been partnered with Tsu, Fumikage Tokoyami. “Yaoyorozu was right when she said you didn’t act like the villain you were supposed to be.”

“I know! Don’t remind me.” Ruby sighed again, leaning back against her desk and crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s hard. Especially when I have to fight my friends. I want to be a hero, not a villain.”

“We all do, that’s why we’re here,” said Iida, more so focusing on straightening up the classroom rather than taking part in the conversation. “But sometimes, you have to thin like your opponent in order to understand them. To counteract their moves efficiently.” Ruby nodded. No wonder he was their MVP...

“If you don’t mind me asking, Rose,” said Mashirao Ojiro, whose Quirk was his tail, “but why did you have trouble during the exercise?”

“Even if it’s fake, it wasn’t that hard. We were just training,” added Sero with a shrug. He cast a glance over at Bakugo, who was brooding at his desk. “Even if some of us did go overboard.” It took the girl a second to answer.

“I guess… I never saw myself as the villain type. Or even thinking like one,” Ruby replied. Looking in the mirror, that was never what Ruby saw. A fond grin grew on her face. “I always wanted to be a hero. My sister used to read to me every night before bed. Stories about heroes fighting monsters and saving the day. It’s one of the reasons that I want to be a hero, too!” She heard Denki Kaminari, a boy with shocking yellow hair and a tell-tale black streak whose Quirk allowed him to generate electricity, laugh under his breath.

“You want to live happily ever after?” he asked her. Ruby nodded.

“That’s what I’m hoping we all get to do.” It was her one wish. “As a kid, I wanted to be just like heroes in books or on TV. Someone who fought for what was right and protected people who couldn’t protect themselves!”

“That’s rather ambitious,” commented Iida as he passed by the group. He was slowing down, taking his time with his chores. If he wanted to listen and take part, he could just say so.

“Kind of lame,” added Minoru Mineta, the shortest member of 1-A whose balls on top of his head allowed him to stick to anything.

“But it’s true,” said Ruby with a grin. “That’s what heroes do!” Apparently, nt everyone in the class thought the same about that last thing.

“Life isn’t the same as some fairy tale,” said Todoroki about as cold and as harsh as the ice he could make. He picked up his things sliding his bag over his shoulder. He made his way towards the door. Ruby stared at him. He wasn’t wrong but...

“Well, isn’t that why we’re here? To make it a better place so that it’s like one.” Todoroki paused in the door. He glanced back at her, not saying anything. He left shortly after that, silent as he was when he arrived back in the classroom after training that day.

“I guess not everyone thinks like you,” said Tsuyu. Ruby shrugged. It was kind of sad that he said that, but it was something that she was used to hearing. Mostly from the interns she had talked with at the agency her dad ran.

“I like it, though,” said Kirishima, leaning back on his desk. “It’s nice to have a goal to work towards.”

“Thanks!” Ruby replied, her grin relaxed.

“Tch.” That single sound wiped it away.

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 7

The Grind-Chapter 7

I woke to the yellow shade of light sneaking through the bedroom window, thankful Ryan was courteous enough to grant me the day off so I’d be able to chase the unfolding action of the days before the fight. A barely conscious grumble paired with a drawn-out stretch woke the sleeping giant snoring into my armpit.

“Rise and shine, champ,” I ran slow fingers over the spread of his back.

Instantaneously, the smothered ring of his cell vibrated somewhere hidden in the wad of covers, and a patted hand smacked thoughtlessly over the bed in little effort to locate it. 

“Mac, what’s up, big guy?” Colton paused as his trainer spoke on the other end of the call. He was awake, but nowhere near alert as one eye still squinted and struggled with the bright light of the morning. “I feel good, man. I even squeezed in a good workout before bed last night too….” A boyish smile tossed in my direction, along with a flirtatious pinch to my bare bum. “Heat the sauna, and I’ll be there in an hour. I got the suit in my truck.”

He ended the call, and all too quickly rose to dress his beautifully naked body.

“What suit are you talking about?” I held myself up on my elbows watching him scurry around the room for his clothes.

“I was three pounds above weight yesterday, so gotta spend most of the day smotherin’ it off in the sauna suit. Get dressed, this’ll be good for your article. Cutting weight can get pretty intense.”

I threw on leggings with and oversized sweater for the sake of time, knowing I’d be home to dress more appropriately for the weigh-in later tonight. I foolishly offered him breakfast, tossing my yogurt in the trash to avoid tempting the hungry bear in my kitchen.

“I’ll only stay for bit. Just enough to get a good insight on the hot suit thing. But I don’t want to be in the way today, Colt. I know how important it is to get into the right headspace.” Although I would’ve indeed loved to spend the day at his every beckon call, helping to ensure he woke Sunday morning wearing the title of Middleweight Champion, I knew that wasn’t what he needed from me.

I didn’t think of it as insulting, it was just the man he was. Sure, most nights we’d spent together he showed me glimmers of a silly, love-sick boy. However, I knew truthfully that the vast part of his psychological make-up was compiled with mystery, angst, and a touch of outright danger. So mental preparation for an event as such was best suited alone. But, it was those flickers of brooding fury that aided in my interest in him to begin with.

“Thanks for understandin’, beautiful.”

 I waited outside the confines of the small sauna at the gym for nearly half an hour, talking with Mac about what exactly they’d have to put him through to shed those three pounds.

“He’ll have to swallow a few more gallons of water, then we’ll cut off the intake. He’s gonna be spending a lot of time in the pisser this morning, Miss Liv.” His trainer chuckled at the series of events that would take place, but we both understood the draining (quite literally) day Colton had ahead of him.

The sauna door swung open and Colton collapsed onto the cool of the floor, while I moved in panic to look him over, assuring he was still conscious.

“Liv, Liv. I’m fine, ‘ight. Just hot, okay?”

I instantly felt ridiculous for my overreaction, and stood to my feet, crossing my arms tightly around my chest. “Alright. I think that’s my cue to exit. You two have this covered. See you tonight, Colt!”

He didn’t rise from the ground, instead remained sprawled wearily where he’d fallen. “Hey you. I love ya’. See you soon, baby.”

I matched his line and waved to the pile of vast sweating flesh on the floor.

Secluded with my thoughts in the empty apartment was the last place on Gods green earth I needed to be, so I thought it wise to drive around with the sounds of a quiet radio. Lately, even amidst the newest developments in our relationship, I had found myself panged with the wonder of “where would we go from here?” Sure, the frequent time we were spending together had been made up of little work and mostly play, but I couldn’t help but linger over the idea that what we had was a fluke? I mean, if we’re being completely honest, I’m ashamed to say I even dwelt for a moment on the thought that maybe Colton was using me to get help with his glorified “big break.” The article, no matter the result of the events ahead, would spotlight him in a big way. Bad publicity is better than no publicity, ay?

I pounded the steering wheel with an open fist at my sheer absurdity. I knew he wasn’t the man to use anyone for his own selfish gain. There was nothing artificial about him. He was pure in the most tarnished way, and so raw. Real. Why couldn’t I just let myself bask in the high of being in love? Life was too painfully joyous right now to be such a lowly pessimist. The cascading echo of a car horn shook me from my pondering stupor, seeing the red light that halted me, now green. I eased onto the gas before the impatient imbecile behind me blew a gasket, and concluded it was best to head home after all.

Home led to a nap, giving me at least an hour of silence from the cynical whispers that had haunted me all morning. The screen of my cell read 4:33 when I shook myself awake, along with a message from Colton.

Colt: Your boy is down 4 pounds. Heading to the hotel with the guys now. See you soon babe.

Well, there was one lingering worry crossed from the list. He’d made weight. Well, as long as the scales at the official weigh in agreed. Next item on the agenda was to smash Mendez tomorrow night and go about our business. But, that task was in Colt’s hands. My next order of business was making myself presentable for the conference, and prepare any further questions I had for the fighters.

The “grooming” process always had a strange calming affect on me. The steam of the shower, the calculation of outfit choice, the precision of perfecting a subtle wing of eyeliner. Mind you, embracing the grueling duties of womanhood wasn’t something I did extremely often, but when I did, it was something I genuinely enjoyed. Plus, I knew the “business casual” attire would be a titillating distraction for my guy on the podium. He’d made countless suggestive comments when I would meet him after work for dinner adorning a simple fitted suit, that hinted at the highly aroused state the particular style caused him.

Tonight, I’d paired a khaki tailored chino pant with a simple, yet tastefully plunging cashmere sweater tucked in, with round toe, block heels. I wanted the look to still appear somewhat relaxed, so I pinned my hair into a soft ponytail. As I fastened my gold stud earrings in to complete the ensemble, a faint purplish bruise on the swell of my breast caught my attention. I bit my lip remembering the primal encounter with him the night before that had created the mark in question, which left me wanting to kiss him that very second. I settled for the next best available option and chanced trying to reach him on a facetime call. I rested knees crossed on the edge of the couch careful not to wrinkle my outfit, and waited for an answer. 

My mouth twitched slightly when he gracefully appeared on the screen.

“There she is.” He didn’t intend for the greeting to be one of a sultry manner, but the man just couldn’t help it, could he? Sex appeal simply secreted out of his very being.

“Hey you! I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to wish you luck! I won’t come at you with any questions that are too difficult tonight.” I winked with my tongue slightly poking from between a wide smile.

“Oh, I appreciate that. Those media suckers can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

I let that one go, but not without narrowed eyes and a small “hmph” of displeasure. “Meet me back in my room after, baby? It’s 1893.”

I didn’t want to be pushy with him. It wasn’t the time to be developing a pining cling, seeing as he did maybe have a few things of slight importance going on in his life these days.

“If you say so, babe. Oh! By the way, I got a call from your mom today asking how you were since according to her, you’re dodging her calls?” Beth had reached out pre-nap to check in on “her boy”.

I found it nauseatingly endearing that this sweet woman raised one of the most hard-nosed, pensive creatures I’d ever met, yet in her eyes he was some innocent little quiet schoolboy.

“God, that woman,” he groaned, hands rubbed over his lidded eyes, sighing embarrassed.

“Little momma’s boy, aren’t ya’, Ritter. I’ll be sure to add that tidbit of info into my article.” I slipped a finger to my raised chin, tapping thoughtfully as if pondering an evil plot against him.

“Watch it, girl. I’m runnin’ on no food today. Best ya’ don’t poke the big angry cage fighter, yeah?”

I wanted to do way more than poke the big angry cage fighter, unbeknownst to him.

“Is that a threat, sir?” I’m sure my usual porcelain shade had taken upon a pinkish tone right before his very eyes.

He just shook his head left to right, snickering at my mouthy remark. “Wow, someone is feelin’ bold tonight I see. Be sure to bring that sassy mouth with ya’ to my room tonight then, deal?” His thick brows raised in hopeful questioning. “Listen though, sweetheart. I gotta get back to the guys. Thanks for the luck, Livvy!”

He ended our brief chat with that menacing, fluttery wink of his that he should just trademark & get on with it.

I threw a tweed coat over my shoulders and buttoned it over the bareness of my chest, journeying out into the Friday evening breeze.

Downtown was always expected to be a blustering mess on any given weekend, but this March weekend in particular brought out triple the chaos. I didn’t have the time, nor the least bit of patience to hunt for a parking spot in this sea of traffic, so I opted for valet instead, and admired the architectural elegance of the hotel when I wheeled under the awning.

The Omni William Penn Hotel was one of my favorites to look at in the city. A column-like brick design having such a classic grandeur like something from an episode of The Sopranos. It wasn’t modern or sleek like most newly built facilities here, rather it adorned harsh, loud colors and eccentric carpets. I shamelessly flashed my media badge to the security vastly surrounding the conference hall, and two heavy double doors opened to welcome me in. The ornate, high-ceilings enhanced the noise of muddled conversations throughout the smothered, crowded room. I was pleased that the event was drawing such interest throughout Pittsburgh, and judging by the number of bodies in the room, surrounding cities as well.

It seemed I had timed my arrival perfectly, allowing me to locate a seat just 4 rows from the platform. Of course, I chose the side nearest to Colton’s name plate placed on the banquet table lined with chairs. I could at least give myself that much, seeing as proximity in the room would be the only form of closeness we would be able to share with all the eyes in attendance. Sure, there were the handful of trusted confidants whom we had revealed the true nature of what was truly going on with our relationship. Mac, his parents, Andrew from the coffee shop witnessed some slight hand holding  here & there, and a few of the guys on his training team at the gym. To the rest of the world, Liv & Colton were no more than writer & subject.

Yes, we may have spent a tremendous amount of time together, but what dedicated journalist didn’t tumble entirely in their work and make it their mission to learn the ins and outs of her topic.  To Ryan, the staff at the Pilot, and strangers who spotted us at restaurants rarely, it just seemed as if I was extremely dedicated to my work. I wasn’t blind to the consequences that could come, along with the whispered insults, if my boss and the public got wind that we were sleeping together, and more. As much as I’d like to refer to myself as a thick skinned, I can admit that isn’t a quality I was bestowed with. The idea of my name being worked into lines such as “stops at nothing to climb a little higher on the latter,” or “no wonder she spoke so highly of him in her piece,” made the containments of my stomach climb up my throat. So for now, unfortunately, we had agreed to keep the love light hidden within the confines of family for now. As long as I had him though, I could rest my head easy at night. And I can with confidence say that Colton shared that same satisfaction.

The chattering of the room was silenced now only to the sounds of flashing cameras and the screeching feedback of a powering PA system, when league CEO Pete Multon graced center stage.

“On behalf of everyone at Professional Fighters Federation, I’d like to welcome you all to the official weigh-in for PFF 11. Let’s uh, get this started, shall we? I personally can promise you a great match between these two, and I look forward to seeing it all go down tomorrow night.”

I wondered if my neighboring reporter could hear the near pounding of my heartbeat. “Let’s welcome first, the challenger in this event who is extremely, extremely new to the circuit, but I’ve seen for myself the tremendous talent this kid brings to the table. Mr. Colton Ritter, ladies and gentleman.”

My eyes wondered erratically for a glimpse of him. I saw Mac step into view first, then his sparring partner I think he called Seth, a few other posse members I wasn’t particularly familiar with, and finally him. A plain white t-shirt, navy shorts resembling a sort of swimming trunks with gray stripes, and a baseball cap he’d turned rear-facing. He marched in barefoot with a powerful saunter, his face holding a taunting blank stare. Colton hated the attention. He was a fighter, and that’s precisely all he wanted to do. He held no interest in the added formalities of the job description and wasn’t about to paint on a fake façade that told otherwise.

He pulled out his designated assigned seat, and lowered himself to the table, shaking the hand of Pete as he did so. He dropped his eyes to folded, fidgeting hands he had rested across his middle-section and reclined comfortably back in the folding chair. The hat was a foreign choice of accessory for him from what I’d seen, but the boyish way it sat about him was one I very much enjoyed.

“Alright, now our current Middleweight Champion who most of you are very familiar with, Danny Mendez. C’mon out, Dan.”

The next entrance was nothing short of stomach-turning, over the top in characteristic Mendez fashion. As unprofessional and petty I’m fully aware this sounds, I couldn’t have cared less about the arrogant prick, so I pretty well tuned the next 3 minutes or so out. Danny had swaggered into the room, feeding furiously off the chants from the clan of goons riding his coat tails and the squealing groupies in the back row. I hadn’t taken my eyes of Colton. He lifted his head now, casually surveying the room, and I finally entered his range of sight.

Our eyes locked like a chaining deadbolt, and an almost painful excitement raged in my insides. His tongue swiped slowly over his cunning, half smiling lips and his right brow raised in mischief, he had the audacity to assault me with a lazy wink that I’m certain was intended more for the space between my legs than anything else. I jolted my look to the floor in a desperate attempt to hide the beaming shade of red on my cheeks. You could’ve cooked a full course meal on my heated, embarrassed face. His shoulders slightly shook in laughter at the state he’d instigated.

I had given him far too much control over me, and he had learned every little gear that made my body tick, using it fully to his advantage. But I myself had acquired my own arsenal of Colton Ritter kryptonite in the last months. I could melt that statue into putty if I so desired, and I thought after the weigh-in, I may decide to do just that. But for now, it was time to settle in with work.

I tapped the red recording button on my device and waited for the wave of questioning to swell. Mr. Multon made camp between the two wild animals in case one stroked the ego of the other in the wrong manner and the fight fell underway  early. As if he could’ve done a single thing to stop the likes of these two fellows.  

“Okay folks, everyone knows how this works. We’ll rotate back & forth between the guys for questions, and they’ll call on which of you to speak. So, let’s start with Danny to my right here.”

We were all familiar with the nature of how these conferences were organized, yet most buffoons just shouted their questions aloud hoping it would fall directly on the ear of their intended. Following my usual approach, I sat to take it all in for a few minutes before chiming in.  I suffered through roughly 15 minutes or so of mundane inquisition, then decided I should get in line for a shot at Colton & Danny before time was cut without me stepping up.

I went for Colton first as I knew I wouldn’t have any issue get called on. One forearm rested on the table top, the other hand smooshed to his cheek by a propped elbow, and he thinned his eyes to gaze about to gallery. My hand was raised politely, and he passed over me at least twice, getting off on my heightening annoyance.

“Uhhhhhh, lemme see. Okay, ummmm..you. Ms. Elliott, is it?” He would pay for that later.

“Col-uh, Mr. Ritter, this being your first match of such magnitude, have you found yourself under any added pressure? More so than any of the previous events you’ve been a part of.” I told him I’d go easy earlier, and I meant it. I knew I’d probably buckle under the bright beams of pressure and crack if I was tossed into this den of lions myself, so I can only imagine how my introverted partner was feeling by this point in the evening.

“Hmm…ummm…well yeah, ya’ could say that. I mean, I go into any match with full intent of beatin’ the ass of whoever climbs into that cage with me no matter the prize money that comes along with it. But when there’s a belt on the line, I’d say it does change things a little bit maybe. I still plan on bashin’ the guy in the cage with me, this time the reward will just be a lot sweeter, I guess. Great question, by the way.” He thought the compliment would dig him out of the hole he was in for ignoring me a short moment ago.

I fell back into the padded chair glancing back to him, and mouthed a wordless “thank you.”

Now onto the bigger, more annoying fish I intended to fry this evening. I didn’t calculate getting the attention of Mendez would be too difficult, seeing how he clearly felt very strongly about the opposite sex. I slipped my hand up, slightly elevating out of my chair to ensure I was visible from behind the much taller man in front of me. He chose another individual, so I was forced to wait 2 more rounds before finally being selected to speak.

“Mr. Mendez, this is the first opportunity in nearly a year you’ve had to defend your title. Are you at all concerned that tonight may be the last night you that belt in your possession?” I’m sure he could see that glint of brashness mixed with my smile.

“To be honest, Ms. Olivia,” he’d called me by the name he knew wasn’t accurate from our previous encounter as a rebuttal or my smart-mouthed question. “I’m not worried about this amateur at all. I’m in the best shape of my career, and I just don’t think he’s got anything for me. I plan to make this defeat short & sweet.”

I hoped even more so now that Colton would crush him a million times over and make him eat that snide remark. Thankfully, mine being the last allowed question for the night, Mr. Multon upstretched to take the mic.

“Alright everyone, that’ll be all for questions tonight, so let’s get to what these guys came for, shall we?!” His volume increased into a gravelish scream causing a bellowing explosion of cheers and whistles from the crowd.

Several stage men swarmed to rearrange the set-up, carrying in the scale. Photographers now sprinted to the front seeing as this was what they came for. Their paycheck would most likely depend on them catching the money shots of the events to unfold in the next 48 hours.

“Okay, Colton, step up to the scale.” He followed the mans’ orders, rounding the corner of the table. Colton began undressing, pulling the shirt with one hand over the back of his head, followed with dropping his trunks to the floor. Leaving him covered only now by thin spandex of his compression shorts.

I would assume every lady specimen in attendance painted an imagined picture of what he looked like underneath. Luckily for me, I was the one who knew quite vividly how perfect he indeed looked emerging from the gym shower. Or sleeping soundly under the transparency of my bed sheets. Or sweating profusely under the contents of me bouncing about his groin. I was very much relishing in that fact that he could probably have his pick from the entire span of Pittsburgh, but I was the selection. He chose to be with me. Chose to love me.

Colton squared up with the scale, releasing the entire contents of his lungs before planting both feet on top of it.

“Colton Ritter, official weight 183 pounds.”

He raised his brazenly muscular arms upward into a flex of his bicep, then the room jumped at the sound of his strident, resounding roar. He had put himself through near hell the entire day, starving to make weight, and was clearly pleased with his achievements, deservingly so.

Colt jumped to the floor, beaming, with hands clapping together like smashing bricks. I may have let my excitement get the best of me letting out an extended shriek of pride.

“Okay, okay. Everybody settle down, settle down. Danny c’mon up.” The CEO instructed his #1 to his place on the scales. “181 official weight for Danny Mendez.”

TAGS” @torialeysha @eap1935

[shenanigans-academia]

Season 2 w/ Internship Arc/ Final Exams

Episode 26: Time To Pick Some Names

•The kids are so cute, they’re like “we’re FAMOUS” precious babies

•”Congratulations Todoroki on your offers”

“It’s PrObaBlY BecAuSe oF My FaTheR” just take the W babe

•BABY AIZAWA AND HIZASHI we need more flashback episodes I live for a Baby Emo Shouta

•”You’re not even French are you that’s just an act isn’t it?” Call him out Sato

•Alien Queen is amazing stfu Midnight

•FROPPY FROPPY FROPPY

•WE STAN RED RIOT

•ALL MIGHT JUNIOR I’m crying

•I love Jirou and Kaminari’s friendship. Which is mostly her bullying him (reminds me of me and my friend Zack I should call him)

•Okay Cellophane is actually a really good name as well as ChargeBolt. Creati is probably my favorite tho

•”WHY DONT WE GO OUTSIDE AND ILL SHOW YOU EXACTLY WHY MURDER SHOULD BE IN MY NAME” BAKUGOU YOU’RE TRYING TO BE A H E R O

•Also I love how Kirishima just loves to push B’s buttons

•I relate to All Might freaking out so fucking much

•Iida you shady bitch THEY CARE ABOUT YOU AND JUST WANT TO HELP

Episode 27: Bizarre! Gran Torino Appears

•Oooh new intro ngl I think I preferred the beginning half of season 2 theme TENYA FLASHING HIS GLASSES AND TENSEI BEING REFLECTED IN THEM THAT SHIT HURTED

•Gran Torino gives me the biggest whiplash istg

•Brooding Iida is a Time guys

•”what makes a movement special” only flashes of Bakugou show

•TESTU AND KIRI IN THE SAME AGENCY I FORGOT LOVE THE HARD BOI TWINS

•The fact that Momo and Kendo got picked for their internships just because they’re pretty genuinely makes me upset

•okay but Sho could’ve chosen literally any other place to intern why did he go to his dad who he actively hates (with good reason)

•Ayyeee he didn’t break his legs. Maybe he still hasn’t figured out he can exactly use them yet. Look at baby bunny go

•Omozan I see you

•Izuku you are just as sweet as that fish dessert

•FANTASY AU END CREDITS IM LIVING if Hirokoshi doesn’t want to make another movie after this next one comes out he should just make mini films out of all the AUs he makes because honestly I want to see them all animated ESPECIALLY the Fantasy AU that would be Dope with a capital D my dudes

Episode 28: Midoriya & Shigaraki

•oof Midoriya you tried sweetie you did good

•BAKUGOU MAKEOVER TIME. Serving Looks by Best Jeanist we Stan

•I always forget the Nomu were once actual people what the fuck

•Anndddd things are getting tense. These poor kids don’t know what’s coming

•Dark Iida is. Intense

•I love Iida’s Internship Mentor he’s a good boy

•Shigaraki honey. Please. Get therapy

•Okay but Midoriya’s icon for himself on his phone or whatever he’s using to message Iida is All Might and that is just so him

•Iida you’re so DUMB STAIN IS RIGHT YOU ARE A C H I L D STOP MONOLOGUING YOUR REVENGE

Episode 29: Hero Killer Stain VS. U.A. Students

•The Nomus are so fucking gross

•Fuck off Enji

•Midoriya is so good, worrying about other people like Iida

•Shigaraki is a giant man child

•Iida: “You took everything from me”

Stain: “I don’t even know who you are”

•I’m sorry but how did Stain figure out how his quirk worked like how do you find out you can freeze people by ingesting their blood without having to do so crazy fucked up shit when you were younger

•BUNNY BOY BOUNCE

•Iida I love you but you Dumb

•Todoroki being like “i know you’re not the type of person to send cryptic messages so I knew you were in trouble” yeah he knows his boy

•Iida shut UP

•”you’ve got a dark side I guess my family isn’t the only one” Todoroki now is not the time to be emo

•Ah okay decent explanation for why Sho chose Endeavor that i forgot okay now makes sense

•Iida your inner Bakugou is showing

•IM SO PROUD OF TODOROKI it’s only been a couple of episodes since the Sports Festival but he’s already shown improvement and I love him

Episode 30: Climax

•I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I would die for Tensei Iida

•MIDO-IIDA-ROKI KICKING ASS IS WHAT I LIVE FOR

•”My friends may be in trouble” OUR BOY IS GROWING

•I will say at least Endeavor listened to Shouto and told other Pros to go help him

•Ah shiiiIIIIITTTTTT I forgot Mido got (semi) kidnapped and Stain escaped/ fucking DIED (???) I’m SHOOKETH

Started cooking dinner around this time and was in and out for the next 3 episodes so these are less in-depth until Episode 34

Episode 31: The Aftermath Of Hero Killer: Stain

•SHIGGY you Big Dumb

•DABI & TOGA SIGHTINGS HELL YEAH BABY

•“Once this night is over the world will forget he ever existed” whelp that’s what you get for being a little man child Shigaraki

•BAKUGOU IN JEANS IS A FUCKING LOOK OKAY

•Lmao Kiri I love a dumbass

•“Was that a boy?” OKAY I LOVE GUNHEAD

•MIDORIYA, URARAKA IS ONE OF YOUR BEST FRIENDS YOU SHOULD BE USED TO TALKING TO HER BY NOW YA DAMN NERD

•BIRTH OF THE HAND CRUSHER Todoroki’s having like a fucking existential crisis and Iida and Mido are fucking laughing at him I’m dead

Episode 32: Everyone’s Internships

•It says Everyone’s internships but it was mostly just Froppy. Jirou and Bakugou got some spotlight (Bakugou’s hair is just *chef kiss*) but yeah super proud of Tsuyu tho!

•Kiri and Testu kill me I love them so much I need more of them together

Episode 33: Listen Up!!! a Tale From The Past

•Honestly one of the 1st instances I can see Kaminari being the ~traitor~ since he’s low key hyping up Stain but I refuse to believe it because he’s such a good dumb boy And IF it is true then I want him to be such a total BAMF that it better make it worth the heart ache. Like the whole short circuiting thing be a ploy to make people think he’s weak when he could control it the whole time and you know what this is for a different post MOVING ON

•Everyone watching Mido go through the rescue exercise, “WOAH since when does he move like Bakugou???”

•Cut to Bakugou having a stroke lmao

•All Might you’re gonna make me CRY

Episode34: Gear Up For Final Exams

•“Sexiness isnt just an aesthetic” Midnight laying down facts

•Honestly? Fuck Mt. Lady. I want more Anime Groot Kamui Woods and Gunhead

•Final Exams stress is real no matter how powerful you are. Take notes kids

•“WIERDO LITTLE CREEPS LIKE YOU ARE ONLY LIKEABLE IF YOU’RE STUPID WHO’S GONNA LOVE YOU NOW” Kami is NOT holding back

•Teacher Momo is the best she’s so excited

•Kiri is pining SO HARD for Bakugou and Baku is blinded by the rage of his life he can’t see it Baby Shark is trying his best “Maybe I should beat the lessons into your skull” “I’m counting on it” KIRISHIMA THERE ARE BETTER WAYS TO FLIRT

•Shut the fuck up Monoma, Kendo come get your Rat Boy she’s just as done with him as everyone else is lmao

•”Deku, how you use your power is pissing me off I’m still better than you” every time he opens his mouth it’s either to curse someone out, to say Die, or accusing them of thinking their better than him. Honey. Go to therapy I’m begging

•WOW he uses Todoroki’s actual name

•Aizawa help the angry boy please

•“I didn’t leave anything blank at least!” MOOD KAMINARI

•How long was Nezu in Aizawa’s scarf???

•”We’re fighting...teachers?” Lmao yall fucked

•Midoriya & Bakugou against All Might. Aizawa really said fuck them kids

•Saving the most intense and chaotic for last I see

•Jirou “aren’t you just the announcer”

Mic “HEY WATCH YOUR MOUTH GIRL HAVE SOME RESPECT” he’s so butthurt haha leave Mic alone

•Aizawa is calling people out left and right we love a Ruthless Bitch

•Bakugou disses All Might. All Might “it’s on now you angry little asshole”

•MY BOY KIRISHIMA IS UP FIRST LETS GOOO AND WE FINALLY GET SOME SATO ACTION LETS GO SUGARMAN WE GOT SOME POWERFUL BOIS. Too bad they failed

•Tsuyu and Tokoyami are a good matchup and the fact they got the creepiest teacher to go against a kid with a quirk like Dark Shadow is just so funny to me. Basically said let’s make it as Goth as possible

Episode 35: Yaoyorozu: Rising

•Ectoplasm’s quirk looks like it’s literally eats Tsuyu and Yami. Everyone watching TRAUMATIZED. But they still fucking DID IT

•Also LOVE DARK SHADOW I wish he talked more

•Ojirou on Iida’s back “I can only imagine how stupid we look right now” no Ojirou you look adorable. Also just fucking LAUNCH THE TAIL MAN but hey it worked

•”Spikes? What are you trying to be some kind of ninja” yes he is Shouto why do you think he’s an underground villain HES LITERALLY DOING A NARUTO RUN AS WE SPEAK

•my girl Momo showing us what she’s made of

•Aizawa is proud of two smart little shits

•Todo is an awkward gentleman. Something he DIDNT get from his father

•Momo starts crying and covers her mouth. Todoroki:”what’s wrong? Do you feel sick? If you’re feeling nauseous we can call recovery girl” a. GENTLEMEN. He drinks his good boi and respect women juice daily

Episode 36: Stripping The Varnish

•Aoyama. Bruh. Why are you like this lmao

•Nezu is a fucking MANIAC BEAST WHAT THE FUCK we need more Mouse Hero

• “times like this he gets his vengeance” THEYRE KIDS RECOVERY GIRL

•Mic why is your face like that jfc

•KODA IS SO FUCKING PRECIOUS WHY DONT WE GET MORE OF HIM???

•”YOU CAN TALK???” It’s been like a good couple of months right? He just hasn’t talked the whole time? Honestly, respect. KODA IS AMAZING

•the fact that Hagakure just gets fucking naked so she can be completely invisible is hilarious

•”MisteR SNIPE YOU PERVERT”

”I COULDNT SEE YOU IM SORRY” poor Snipe lmao

•WHY IS MINETA TRYING TO BE A HERO WHEN ALL HE DOES IS CRY AND RUN AWAY (WHY IS HE CRYING BLOOD???)

•Lmao Sero you didn’t stand a chance sweetheart

•Oooooh so that’s Midnight’s quirk. Okay makes. A little sense I guess. But fuck I love her

•Ah. That’s why he wants to be a hero. He’s creepy and pervy but fuck that was actually a good plan

Episode 37: Katsuki Bakugou: Origin

•IT’s OUR FAVORITE ANGRY BOI. Please Katsuki. I’m begging. Take ALL the chill pills. Just once

•”Why does he always have to make things so difficult” you’ve known him literally all your life you know why. It’s because he’s an asshole

•Midoriya: PLEASE stop yelling

Bakugou: feral yelling continues

•Bakugou why are you like this

•All Might killed a child wow

•Bakugou 110% deserved that punch, good on you Midoriya

•he didn’t directly blow him up that time at least that’s a tiny bit of progress

•”Ah. They got me” All Might is so cute

•”They’re actually pretty smart. They just lose all sense when it comes to each other...They have so many complicated emotions when it comes to the other they don’t even know how to interact anymore” I don’t ship it but that’s pretty fucking gay

•”Your teachers going to do his best to school you” ALL MIGHT SNAPPED

•KB: ”When he shows up it’s my turn to blast him”

AM: “Say that to my face you Limp Noodle”

•Nice teaching just beat one student WITH another one nice All Might

•All Might literally broke Deku’s back what the fuck

•”It’s time to sleep. Goodnight Young Bakugou” ALL MIGHT YOURE KILLING HIM BRUH

•Lmao the angry Pomeranian fucking bit him I’m crying

•THATS MY MESSED UP BOIS

•Recovery Girl is just like All Might if you don’t lighten the fuck up I’ll beat your ass they are CHILDREN and she’s right

•OFFICIAL DABI AND TOGA INTRO IM SO FUCKING PUMPED DABIDABIDABI

Episode 38: Encounter

•”right now I go by Dabi”

“No I want to know your REAL name”

“I’ll tell you when you need to know” IT’S TOUYA TODOROKI THANK YOU VERY MUCH TOUYA CALL YOUR MOTHER

•Shiggy, Dabi, and Toga LITERALLY all at each other’s throats:

Kurogiri: Mom Mode Activated

•”DONT YOU GET IT MIDORIYA OR DID ALL MIGHT KNOCK ALL THE BRAINS OUT OF YOU” DENKI WHY DID YOU HAVE TO ATTACK MIDORIYA LIKE THAT HE WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP

•Aizawa and his logical deception is Class 1A’s Cry Wolf

•Kiri immediately went to Bakugou and was like you’re coming shopping with us right, right? Kiri your pining is killing me you’re not subtle honey but I love it

•”you’re going to scare the children” says the guy with the demon shadow bird that flies out of his chest Tokoyami I love you

•JIROU AND MOMO I love two lesbians

•Kiri the man in charge love my boy

•”GOTTA KEEP THOSE PEST AWAY”

“DO YOU MEAN ME???” Lmao poor Midoriya

•Shiggy you’re so fucking CREEPY

•Finally see Shiggy’s whole face. THIS IS YOUR MANS YALL??? BRUHHH

•Poor Mido he can never catch a break

•Shiggy this just looks like really gross PDA you crusty creep

•”I can’t just run away every time I get flustered” yes you can Uraraka, that’s what I do, live your dream girl, run away from boys

•Wow they actually went to the police their first smart move

•ALL MIGHT IS IZUKU’S ADOPTIVE DAD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT HIS BOY YOU COULD TELL

•”there’s a good chance that he or another student could be targeted” ForEShAdOwInG

And that concludes Season 2! Season 3 time baby!! God I need a life outside of this

[rainythefox]

Oh, Brother (RDR2 Fanfic Ch.1)

Summary: 1885, Illinois. A young Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur wander into a country town following a lead to swindle a wealthy homestead and break their control over the town. But while scoping it out, Arthur encounters a young John Marston, setting fate in motion that will eventually become a rocky, yet loyal brotherhood. A short multi-chapter fic revolving around how Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur met John, further developing what would eventually become the Van der Linde gang. Rated T for language, some violence, drinking/drugs and mischief. It will mostly be Frienship/Family and Humor, but there will be Action/Adventure with some violence!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Red Dead Redemption franchise, Rockstar, or its characters, etc. This is just for fun.

Chapter 1

"I did no such thing."

Hosea's tone was playful as he rubbed a hand through his light-blond hair before placing a hat upon his head. Dutch made a sound nearby, a mix between a chuckle and a snort as he spurred his horse to canter alongside them.

"Oh, dear brother, don't play sly with me. Even Arthur can see straight through your façade. That much is painfully clear."

"His what?" Arthur drawled, shaking his head, already impatient. "Are we lost or not?"

"I may have slightly got us off course."

"Hosea, you said it was due southeast of the camp."

"Southeast?" Arthur grunted, glaring at Dutch. "Bessie said southwest."

"Did she?" Hosea asked, glancing over his shoulder at the path behind them. "Huh, that explains a lot."

They halted their horses on the road, Arthur voicing his displeasure with a groan. Dutch wheezed a laugh beside him. A gust of wind brushed by, plains surrounding them. The same, dull prairie had been their only scenery for the couple hour ride they've done.

"My friend the master con artist, horrible with directions."

Hosea waved them off. "I haven't been down this way in ten goddamn years. What do you expect? And every blade of grass looks the same."

"Next time maybe you should stay behind, old man, an' we can bring Bessie instead," Arthur said.

"Very funny, my boy."

"Jus' sayin'."

"Now come on, son, where is the fun in that? We couldn't get into quite as much trouble with 'ol Bessie and Susan around."

"That's the point!" Arthur looked around. "Can we move? I feel exposed here."

"We're exposed everywhere," Dutch replied. "What, you missing Chicago?"

"Hell no!"

"Okay then."

"We got company," Hosea announced.

A wagon pulled by two draft horses met them on the road, coming from behind them. The wagon was full of produce, skins, and other materials. Two men rode in the front while two sat in the back, and all four were armed. Arthur was quick to notice the men's suspicious glares as they rode up on them.

Dutch cleared his throat. "Let me handle this." And directed his horse over to the wagon. The men got their repeaters ready, but Arthur knew Dutch's charm would pacify them easily.

"Hello, gentlemen! My dear friend, his nephew, and I are sight seeing 'round these parts. Decided to get away from Chicago for a bit, and got a little lost. They're as stubborn as mules asking for directions. We're trying to find the town of Andell, could you so kindly point us in the right direction?"

"Andell?" the older man echoed, eyebrows furrowing. He scratched at his full beard. "That's across the river. You a ways off, pal. Ya'll have to head back yonder to Canker Point and take the trail to the river and find the 'ol run down station before headin' west into Andell."

Dutch smiled, a hand to his chest as he dipped his head. "Thank you, friend. You may have saved our necks."

"Not sure why ya boys would wanna go to Andell though," the older man continued. "Fire took out most of it 'bout a year ago or so. It's not near as populated as it was."

Arthur sighed. Well, there went their chance at poking around for jobs. The young man slouched atop his horse, but Hosea didn't break his "hello, I'm a polite gentleman and harmless" expression. Dutch didn't show any falter to the news.

"Is that right? That's quite a shame. I was hoping to surprise an 'ol friend down this way. He's from Chicago too. Had ambitions to start up a livery stable in these parts, if I remember correctly."

One of the younger men in the back of the wagon perked up. He looked to be in his early twenties just like Arthur, only wasn't near as large and sturdy as he was. "Oh, we know that feller. You talkin' 'bout a Mister Galligan right?"

A sly smirk eased on Dutch's face. "Why yes, that's him. I hope he is well?"

"He moved over to the town of Hickory, which is where we're headin'."

Dutch glanced back at his older partner-in-crime, their subtle exchange something only the two of them understood. Dutch turned back to the travelers.

"Why, you fellas are our saving grace today. May we join you on your ride to Hickory?"

The older wagon driver glanced at his passengers then back to Dutch. "Sure. We don't want no trouble though."

Dutch eased their new traveling companions with a gentle laugh, a hand to his chest. "You'll get no such thing from us. Well, except for my brooding friend right there, he's a little grumpy at times."

Arthur gave Dutch a look. He and Hosea trotted alongside the wagon with Dutch as it followed the road to Hickory. Arthur stayed quiet, letting Dutch and Hosea sweet-talk the wagon riders and only talking when spoken to. It wasn't long before Hosea was drawing them in with some humorous story about a faulty fishing trip while portraying one of his many personas.

The wagon riders laughed and after that they were a lot more open and talkative, which is exactly what Dutch and Hosea wanted. Arthur heard the exchange of names, the aliases that his mentors chose this time around. The wagon driver, Hester, and his son, and the other two men were ranch hands for a wealthy homesteader family within the area. They explained how the Warrens were strict and hard to work for, how they used their prosperity to take over the town of Hickory.

Their complaints and frankness drove Dutch and Hosea to exchange knowing smirks with each other. Arthur knew them well enough to know that an idea was hatching. He swore it was like the two men could read each other's thoughts at times. He didn't quite understand it.

After traveling together on the road for an hour, the town of Hickory came into view. It was a bit smaller than what they were used to in scouting for jobs, but it would do. It was average, nothing quite unique stood out to Arthur, and he noticed the typical stores, homes, and dirt roads. The small town seemed to be quite populated, however. Men, women, and children walked the streets, some hollered out to others. Horseback riders and those on wagons kept the roads busy with traffic.

"Now this is quite a town you have here, Mister Foll," Hosea said. "Ya know, I think I've been here years before, and well, seems to have grown considerably."

"I'm sure it ain't nothin' like what you boys are used to in Chicago, but it's an alright town. The Warrens are to thank for its growth, but since they've taken over most stores and businesses, prices have gone up and, well, there're far more poor folk than there should be."

"Such a shame," Dutch said, dark eyes already scanning for opportunities.

"Anyways, this is where we go our separate ways, we gotta get these supplies to Mister Warren. You fellas be careful. Hickory has a thievin’ problem. Ya'll find your friend Mister Galligan on the far side of town at the stables."

Hosea and Dutch waved them off as the wagon turned down a different road. Dutch turned his horse to face Hosea and Arthur as they looked over the town before them. The town was surrounded by more plains, a forest not far to the west. Besides the stores and houses, there were also livestock barns and pens. It looked to be mostly sheep and pigs here.

"Smell that gentlemen?"

"Yeah, smells like shit," Arthur grumbled.

"No, opportunities, Arthur. Did you not pay attention?" Dutch said, shaking his head.

"Aw c'mon, Dutch. There ain't nothin' here. I betchu that Mister Galligan lost all that money. Why else would he leave the city? He gon' have worse men than us after him."

Hosea chuckled. "He left because he has the money, you sulky buffoon. You still upset about what happened?"

"It weren't my fault."

"We never said it was, son."

"Eh, it wasn't that big of a loss anyway. We've been doing this for eight years, Arthur. Some jobs just don't pan out. Best to get over it," Hosea explained.

"Sure."

"Let's hit the saloon. I'm parched. We can discuss some ideas there, get a feel of the town," Dutch ordered, spurring his horse into a trot.

"Okay, Dutch," Hosea answered.

Arthur rode behind his mentors. They hitched their horses outside the small saloon. Inside, several folks drank and laughed away. The voices bounced through the walls, and Arthur scanned the room, the faces, the behaviors. It looked like there would be no trouble.

Dutch got them some drinks and they talked to the side, watching the townsfolk drink and chatter away.

Dutch and Hosea stood out amongst most of the people. They always wore nicer clothes, Dutch especially. Dutch had grown a mustache in the past couple years and kept it trimmed and neat, but Hosea remained clean-shaven as always. Despite Hosea being nearly twelve years older than Dutch, his eyes shown with the same youth, the same passion and ambition.

Arthur himself had grown considerably since they found him eight years ago. No longer a lanky, dirty teenager, he bulked up some and now had some scruff on his face. He wasn't as rowdy or impolite as he was when they first found him, the typical orphan delinquent. Although, he kept Dutch and Hosea on their toes with his sarcastic, often cynical nature.

His clothes weren't near as kept and clean as his mentors', but he often had the dirtier jobs. He finally could wear his father's hat without it swallowing his head. He may have not have liked his blood father too much, but he sure as hell liked his hat.

"Seems like good people here," Dutch said finally. "I'm quite interested about these Warrens our talkative friends spoke of."

"They didn't shut up once you charmed them," Hosea joked. "I'm curious though."

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Hosea grinned and Arthur rolled his eyes. "I thought we was here for Mister Galligan, not these Warren folks?"

Dutch patted him on the back. "If you'd paid attention on our humble ride into town, you would've heard the plight of our friends. The Warrens sound like your typical wealthy overlords of the region. Can you imagine what we could take from them?"

Hosea took a shot, letting the bartender give him another. "I'll look into the Warrens, see what I can find. Dutch, you've been wanting a crack at Mister Galligan for three weeks. Maybe you should go check that out?"

Dutch took his own shot, puffing from its bitterness. "Sure. I mean, if you’re confident you can handle some hillbilly homesteaders who think they run this place?"

"You offend me, sir," Hosea mocked.

Dutch laughed. "Well, Arthur. How about you survey the town? See what else there is that we can take advantage of?"

"Sure, Dutch." Arthur raised his glass and gulped it down, hissing at the burn. "Jus' don't leave me here. I'd love to see Miss Grimshaw and Misses Matthews tan both yer hides once this is over."

Dutch lit a cigar as they headed out of the saloon. "Knowing them, they're getting into their own trouble."

Arthur laughed. "No doubt!"

Dutch bowed once they were outside. "I bid you adieu, my dear brothers. See you soon."

"Hey, make sure you drag 'em behind a horse when you're through with 'em!" Arthur hollered.

"Shh," Hosea hissed, a hand going to the younger man's shoulder. "Don't give him any ideas."

"He's the one with the ideas, I'm jus' sayin'! That fool ruined our last job outside Chicago. Nearly broke my goddamn neck."

"We aren't here for revenge. We don't do that. We're here for his money, that's all. The job just didn't go as planned, Arthur. We're outta here once it's done, alright?"

Hosea was always able to settle him with his calm words and caring, wise eyes. "Yeah, sure."

Hosea smiled, patting Arthur's arm. "Alright. Well, get out there, boy, and see what you can find. We'll meet back here later."

Hosea went his own way in town. Arthur heaved a sigh, looking about. Time to get to work, he guessed. Straightening his hat, he stepped away from the saloon over to his horse.

"You be good, fella," Arthur said, patting the bay gelding's neck.

The next few hours, Arthur spent his time going into businesses and stores, getting the feel of the people and the town of Hickory. He eavesdropped on any interesting conversations his ears picked up. Apparently, the Warrens had a livestock auction every Thursday. It was something they could look into.

Later, he overheard the Warrens had some kind of cellar behind one of their barns that they always kept locked up and guarded. This piqued Arthur's interest, and he was excited to tell Dutch and Hosea about it.

While he waited for his father figures to return to him, he leaned on a hitch near their horses smoking a cigarette. He nodded and waved at passersby, just to keep up a friendly appearance. The town of Hickory must've had strangers coming and going a lot, because the townsfolk barely paid him any mind. Arthur liked that.

"Hey, Mister!"

Arthur turned around, only to see the body of a young boy flying through the air. The boy crashed into him, throwing Arthur onto his back, the wind knocked out of him from the kid's legs slamming his gut.

"Oof! What the hell?!" He coughed.

The boy had dark hair, and laughed as he cut his satchel strap, taking it and the hat atop Arthur's head before dashing off. Arthur scrambled to his feet, anger coming over him as he realized he had just been robbed by a damn kid.

"Get back here, you little shit!"

He chased after the boy as he took an alleyway between two stores. He looked to be around eleven or twelve, although Arthur could tell he was scrawny for his age. His hair fell past his chin in greasy dark locks, and his clothes were tattered and dirty.

For being small and thin, the kid could run fast and was nimble, ducking and swerving out of Arthur's grasp each time he went to snatch him. He knew the town well, weaving through people and farm equipment. Arthur barreled his way through folks, keeping the boy in his sights.

The boy climbed up and ran along a fence top before jumping into a pig pen and cutting away. Arthur heaved himself over, kicking and yelling at pigs to get through.

"I'm gonna wring yer neck! Com'ere, boy!"

"Catch me if ya can, ya big oaf!" He had a distinct, raspy voice.

The kid ducked under another wood fence. Arthur vaulted over it seconds later. He kept at the boy's heels, but the slippery little heathen would only veer away, using obstacles and people to stop Arthur. He jumped and grabbed onto a moving wagon as Arthur came back out into the street. Arthur ran after him on foot, the boy laughing.

"Nah nah, ya can't catch me. Why don'tchu give up?"

"Stop that wagon, mister! Ya got a little monster on the back of it!"

The wagon driver turned around at the holler, pulling on the reins to stop the horses. The boy ditched the wagon and darted for another building, Arthur cut him off. He blocked the boy's path, keeping his body as a barrier as he tried to get around him. The boy dove through his legs and got up and scampered off once more.

"Stop, ya little thief!"

As he came around the corner, huffing, the boy was finally caught. Like a little wild animal, he fought Hosea's hold. Hosea tried to calm the boy down. Arthur, jaw clenched, came over and snatched his satchel back. But just as he was about to grab his hat, the boy kicked Hosea in the groin. Hosea yelped, letting the boy go and he escaped.

"Ugh, so much for a polite introduction," Hosea groaned, holding himself.

Arthur, still annoyed, couldn't help but to laugh at the sight. "He got ya too, huh? Little shit was as slippery as the devil." Then Arthur realized the small thief still had his hat. "He got my goddam hat!"

Hosea grabbed him as he started after the boy once more. "Forget it, Arthur. We'll find him. Don't worry."

The boy was probably long gone anyway.

Dutch arrived shortly after. He took in their disheveled appearance, the pained scowl on Hosea's face as he gripped his crotch and Arthur's huffing breaths as he dusted himself off, mumbling a whole range of curses. Arthur reached into his satchel to make sure his journal was still intact. He was relieved to see it was.

Dutch raised his eyebrows. "What the hell did I miss?"

"You don't want to know," Hosea said, finally standing up straight.

"Got robbed by a goddam kid."

Dutch chuckled, earning him a glare from Arthur. "You mean a little bumpkin got the best of you, Arthur? My boy, come now!"

"Not funny, Dutch. He still has my damn hat. And well, damaged Hosea's tallywags."

Hosea wheezed. "I'm fine."

"Come on, we should head back to camp. Got some planning to do," Dutch said.

"But my hat!"

"We'll get it back, Arthur. We're gonna stick around a few days. We will see that brat again, no doubt," Hosea assured.

Arthur groaned. "Fine."

"I leave you both for a few hours and a child wreaks havoc on both your prides. What ever am I going to do with you two?"

"Easy for you to say. You didn't get kicked where it counts," Hosea huffed.

"Low blow, huh Hosea?"

"Hah, you're funny, dear friend."

Dutch feigned innocence, motioning to himself. "It's not my fault you two provide me opportunities for such jokes."

"If I don't get my hat back, I'm siccing Miss Grimshaw on that little heathen."

Hosea chortled. "Dear god, Arthur. The boy doesn't deserve that much torture."

The three of them laughed.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16932513/chapters/39785013

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13143281/1/Oh-Brother

[sympathyfortheblinderdevil]

Serious Things: Chapter 3

I hope that you are enjoying my fluffy little story about Arthur. Deep down I believe that he is a good boy, he just needs a good woman to love him and feed him fried chicken and biscuits.

Chapters 1 and 2

Tommy licked the sweat off of his top lip and stepped onto the freshly swept porch of Mollie’s house. He noticed an old black cat lying next to a bucket full of green beans as he fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his brow. The cat lifted his head and lazily blinked his yellow eyes at Tommy before yawning and settling back down. “Bloody hell. I’m in bloody hell.”

He was annoyed with Arthur and half convinced that the flat tire had something to do with this Mollie girl. Dragging Arthur out of his love nest out of spite would serve no purpose—they were all stuck for the next two days whether Arthur was with his girl or not, and he’d rather have a pleasantly distracted Arthur on his hands than an angry one— but, Tommy needed to judge for himself if she had anything to do with their predicament. After all, they were Peaky Blinders on a trip to do business with Al Capone. It was quite possible that someone wanted to hinder their progress, and to Tommy’s mind, Mollie was not above suspicion.

The windows to the simple whitewashed cottage were open to allow a little breeze to circulate through the rooms. There were baskets of colorful plants hanging from the porch’s ceiling, which was oddly painted blue. The house was mostly shaded by live oaks, but here and there dazzling rays of sunlight seemed to bleach out the vivid purple and red blooms that surrounded him. Tommy stood listening to the soft murmur of conversation and occasional laughter that drifted on the air. Arthur sounded happier than he had in years, but Tommy knew from experience that sometimes the happiness that a woman brings is wrapped in duplicity. He found himself genuinely hoping, for Arthur’s sake, that his suspicions were unfounded.

Arthur spotted his brother through the screen door and quickly strode through the front room to undo the latch. He stepped out onto the porch and quietly spoke, “I’ll be ready to go within the hour. Let me finish up here and I’ll meet you at the boarding house…”

“No need,” Tommy interrupted, as he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. He picked a piece of tobacco off of his tongue and flicked it away, looking out at the small garden at the side of the house and smirking as he did. How perfectly quaint. When his eyes returned to Arthur’s, he observed confusion. His older brother was the most guileless person he knew, so he obviously didn’t know about the tire.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s been a mishap with one of the car’s tires. Looks like we will be stuck here for two days until we can get another one.”

Mollie approached the door, smiling and carrying a glass of sweet tea. She opened the door and addressed Tommy, “Morning, Tommy. You look like you are burning up. Come on in and have a cold drink.” She offered the glass to him and made way for him to enter the front room. He eyed her up and down, a little coolly for Arthur’s liking. Unfazed by his manner, she gently rattled the glass in his direction. Oddly shaped chunks of ice floated in the whiskey colored liquid, and beads condensation rolled temptingly down the sides reminding Tommy of the beads of sweat which currently rolled down his back. He tucked his handkerchief into his pocket, accepted the tea from her outstretched hand, and followed her inside.

He took a drink of the syrup-sweet liquid, and God, it was heavenly. He cleared his throat. “I was just telling my brother here that someone has put a nail in one of the tires on our car.”

Mollie showed an appropriate amount of concern, her brows knitting together slightly as she motioned for Tommy to sit down in the only upholstered seat in the room. She took a seat in an old cane-bottomed chair, and Arthur, slightly on his guard, leaned against the doorframe.

Tommy continued, “Do things like that often happen around here?”

“No,” her eyes widened, “I’ve never heard of anything like that happening.” She shook her head, “That would be an expensive trick to play on a person, and why would anyone do such a thing?”

Tommy leisurely crossed his legs and blew a stream of smoke. It seemed to follow the beam of dappled sunlight that was shining on Mollie’s face. Arthur recognized what his brother was doing. He’d seen it a thousand times before, and he straightened up, resentful at the fact that Tommy was playing interrogation games with the girl.

“I don’t know? Why do you think that someone would do a thing like that, Arthur? Any ideas?” Although he was speaking to Arthur, he stared straight at Mollie who was beginning to catch on to what Tommy was doing.

Arthur’s face went red and he clenched his fists at his sides. “No, Tommy, I don’t.” Arthur breathed heavily through his nose like a raging bull, while Tommy rolled his eyes in condescension.

Mollie looked back and forth between the brothers and recalled the same dynamics playing out in the café the night before. She began to rise from her seat, thinking it best to let the brothers work this out on their own. She excused herself in an even and polite tone, “If you boys will pardon me, I need to snap some beans for supper; I’ll just be on the porch.”

“No, stay,” Arthur was speaking to Mollie, but pointing to Tommy, “What is it that you are after, eh? She’s been with me all night.” His tone was quiet but venomous, his anger at his brother was visceral.

Tommy never changed his cool demeanor as he replied, “I’m not after anything Arthur. It’s just that Mollie, here, has been a resident of Yemassee her whole life I’m guessing, so I thought that maybe she could shed some light on the situation.” He took another draw from his cigarette and blew the smoke toward the ceiling, his eyes perusing the peeling white paint on the visible beams.

Mollie shifted in her chair, the creaking sound drawing both brothers’ eyes toward her. “I don’t like to get involved in family politics or whatever this is, but since I seem to be the object of suspicion here I feel the need to defend myself.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to him…”

“Yes,” she cut in, “I do. I don’t take kindly to being accused of things.” She switched her eyes toward Tommy, “As a matter of fact, there’s no need to beat around the bush, Mr. Shelby. If you think I did something, go ahead and ask me. I won’t lie to ya. There’s no need to pussyfoot around. You think I put a hole in your tire to keep y’all from leaving? Well, I didn’t, and I have no idea who would do a fool thing like that. You most likely picked a nail up on the road, who knows where, and THAT is what caused the leak.”

Arthur leaned back against the doorframe and crossed his arms. A smile played around his lips as he watched her tear into Tommy, who was trying to get a word in edgewise but was quickly shut down.

Tommy sarcastically chuckled, “Sweetheart…”

“Save it, I ain’t finished. Now, I have been nothin’ but nice to you, and you have no absolutely no reason to come in here all high and mighty, flingin’ false accusations, eyeballin’ me, and being a general pain in the ass.”

Tommy looked at Arthur who shrugged as if to concede that she had a point.

He sat and looked into Mollie’s pale green eyes for a moment. She unflinchingly held his gaze. He turned everything that had been said over in his mind and decided that he believed her. Actually, he quite liked her. There was something about her that reminded him of Polly, though only God knew what it was. He stood from his chair and drained his glass of tea. “It wasn’t my intention to cause offense, Miss...” He didn’t know her last name.

Mollie rose and approached him. As she took the empty glass from his hand her lips curved into a slight smile despite her efforts to keep a straight face. “Locke,” she finished for him, “and, you did. We’ll let bygones be bygones, though. You boys will be here for a couple of days, and there’s no sense in the two of us being sideways with each other.”

“Fair enough,” Tommy said. He walked to the door and clapped Arthur on the shoulder. Arthur smiled and raised his eyebrows at his brother. He knew that for all his brooding and paranoia, his brother was only looking out for them.

“And Tommy,” Mollie called after him, “Supper is fried chicken. You and Nino need to be here by six.”

Arthur caught Mollie by the hand and pulled her to him. He kissed her deeply, dipping her backward until they both stumbled and began laughing. Arthur eyes twinkled as he told her, “I’ve only seen one other person handle our Tommy like that, and that’s our Aunt Pol.”

“Well, he made me mad. And besides, I was afraid that if I didn’t do something the two of you would start breaking up the furniture.”

She nibbled at his ears and rubbed the velvety sides of his head, then whispered. "Go and get changed into something you can wear for a walk in the country. I have something I want to show you.”

Chapter 4

[cruciatuscurse]

Dissonance

·         Rating: All

·         Warnings: Slight mentions of abuse. Sweet Pea is 17 and his sister is 15.

·         Pairing: Jughead/OC

·         Summary: Sweet Pea’s sister helps Jughead’s transition to the Southside.

“You’re a loser, you’re never going to amount to anything!” Their father screamed, the smell of alcohol lingering on her breath.

“You’re a drunk, you don’t even know what you’re saying half the time,” Sweet Pea snarled in return. “How about laying off the Jingle Jangle and getting a job? Actually take care of your children.”

“You think you’re a tough guy, is that it?” He stood up from the tattered armchair, swaying slightly, his eyes filled with rage. “You’re old enough to get the hell out. You think you can do it on your own, be my guest. But don’t ever come crawling back here, you worthless-“

The words were deflated on his lips as Sweet Pea punched their father in the gut, making him fall over. The two were rolling on the floor, with Sweet Pea on top, letting his anger out on the source of his growing aggression. Only the cries of his sister silenced him, as he looked up and met her fearful eyes from the doorway of their room. He immediately got up, slowly approaching her, ignoring the groans of the broken man on the floor.

“Hey bug,” he said quietly, taking her in his arms. “You should be asleep. You’ve got school tomorrow.”

“What’s going on, Pea?” She asked softly, the tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. We’re finally getting out of this dump,” he promised, guiding her back to their bed.

She laid down hesitantly, allowing him to cover her body with the large quilt. He tucked her in silently, his dark eyes pensive, and she found herself looking up at him. He brushed her bangs out of her face, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Are we really going to leave?” She whispered hopefully and he nodded.

“Yes. I’m moving out, and I’m taking you with me,” he promised her, standing to his feet. “I’ve got to go for the night. I’ll be back for you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.” She still felt uneasy, with so many unanswered questions floating around her head, but she trusted him. They were all they had.

“If he comes in here, you run, okay?” He instructed and she nodded obediently. He let out a sigh, nodding to himself, before he grabbed his duffel bag from the floor. He locked the door before he closed it, leaving her in darkness. She couldn’t help the tear that escaped her eye.

“Wake up, lazy.” She awoke with a start as he hit her with a pillow. Groaning, the teenager fixated her dark eyes on her smirking older brother.

“It’s Saturday. What the hell are you doing waking me up before noon on a Saturday?” She complained, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Jeez. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he joked, sitting down beside her. “I’ve got business to take care of. You need to stay safe and keep your head down. Maybe clean this place up, go grocery shopping..”

“What am I, a housewife?” She groaned and he rolled his eyes.

“More like a drama queen. You said you wanted to pull your weight around here,” he reminded her, reaching into his back pocket.

“I meant getting a job,” she replied pointedly and he shook his head.

“No way. I’m not letting my kid sister get a job at fifteen, that’s embarrassing.” His chest puffed up and she rolled her eyes. “I can take care of the both of us.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, her mind drifting, and he smiled.

“Here.” He handed her a few hundred dollar bills. At her eager look, he said pointedly, “for groceries.”

“I heard you the first time.” She accepted the bills, counting them. Her eyes glanced up at him. “How long are you gonna be gone this time?”

“Not long,” he assured her, standing up. “I’ll be back, probably early this morning. Just don’t do anything dumb while I’m gone, and try not to wreck the trailer, okay? We don’t need anymore holes in the walls.”

“That was you,” she pointed out, standing up too.

“Exactly. Learn from my mistakes.” He grinned before heading for the door. “Love ya.”

“Love you too,” she called back, glancing at herself in the mirror before she sighed. “Groceries.”

After a hot shower (a long one, since Sweet Pea wasn’t around to bug her about it), she changed into a pair of ripped up jeans and a black tank top. She tied her long, bone straight black hair up into a ponytail, exposing the many piercings in her ears, and she slipped her feet into a pair of beat up black Converse by the door. She slung her purse loosely over her shoulder, stuffing the money and a small paper into it before she pulled the door open. She squinted at the sunlight, locking the door behind her before venturing into town.

The store wasn’t too far, thankfully, and they didn’t need much. She pulled the paper out of her purse, reading the small, neat handwriting listing all she’d came for. Forty-five minutes later she walked out, gripping four full bags in her hands.

The walk back to Sunnyside was uneventful, with most of her neighbors most likely sleeping the past night off, and she walked with a lazy saunter. She unlocked her front door, ignoring the sound of another door in the lot opening, until she saw a flash of black fur escape from behind it.

“Bartholomew!” She shouted, quickly setting her bags down just beyond the door. “Get back here!”

The door billowed in the wind, slowly closing itself, as the girl ran after Bartholomew. She was headed straight for the neighboring trailer, where the furball seemed to become interested. Standing in the doorway was a boy, who wore a beanie over his dark hair and a puzzled expression. The black cat was in his arms, purring, and he glanced from it to the girl. He was cute.

“Sorry, Bartholomew gets ahead of himself sometimes,” she said sheepishly, standing on the step below him.

“No problem. He’s a sweet guy,” he offered in turn, scratching behind Bartholomew’s ears. “I’m Jughead Jones. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

She looked mildly surprised. So this was Jughead. She gave him her name before pointed to her trailer. “I live right over there with my brother. I didn’t know you lived here.”

“I don’t,” he admitted, gesturing to the bag slung over his shoulder. “I was just getting some stuff.”

“I see.” She had heard rumors about the Serpent King, but she was mostly kept in the dark about that sort of thing. She wondered if maybe the rumors were true. “Well, I’ll take him off your hands. I’m sure you’ve got more important places to be.”

“Sure.” Jughead chuckled, handing the resting cat over to its pretty owner.

“I’ll see you around then,” she replied, giving him a coy smile before she began walking to her trailer.

“See you around,” he called back, watching her until she went inside. With a sigh, he shut the trailer door and began walking.

The next time she saw more than a glimpse of Jughead Jones, he had a tray in his hands and a frown on his lips. His hair was longer and the bags underneath his eyes gave him a brooding look. She knew all about his less than warm welcome the other day when Toni was showing him around, but she had a good feeling about the resigned look on his face. She exchanged a look with Toni, one that the other boys at their table couldn’t read, before standing up.

“Jones,” she called, attracting the attention of the boys surrounding her. A smile spread across her face as she gestured to the space beside her.

A grateful smile tugged at his lips, perhaps at seeing a familiar face or a space among the chaos, and he was soon taking a seat with the other Serpents.

“Smartening up and sitting with the good guys, I see,” she teased, making Toni laugh.

Jughead playfully rolled his eyes. “I may have seen the logic in Toni’s reasoning.”

“Good.” She drummed her fingers against the tabletop, black nail polish contrasting with her lightly tanned skin. She noticed how Sweet Pea was eyeing her, clearly trying to read her motives, and she avoided his eyes. “You blending in with the Southside yet?”

“Well, I’m not sure if what I’m eating is a solid or a liquid,” he began, wrinkling his nose as he pushed the tray away from himself. “But you are looking at the newest member of the Red and Black. All I need now is a photographer with an amazing eye and a hunger for social justice.”

“Sounds like someone we know,” Toni said with a smile, and the three shared a laugh.

Jughead’s attention turned to her as he added, “I don’t know if you’re interested in writing at all, but..”

“Maybe,” she surmised, before she stood up. “Come on.”

He quirked an eyebrow but did as she said. She led him outside the back entrance, where they were completely alone. There, she reached into her pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. She raised the cigarette to her mouth, lighting it and slowly taking a drag. As Jughead hadn’t taken his eyes off her, she held the cigarette out to him.

He almost seemed like he was going to decline, before he took it and copied her actions. Unlike her, his drag was not so smooth and resulted in him coughing repeatedly.

Laughing to herself, she patted his back. “Not a big smoker?”

“Not exactly,” he replied, handing the cigarette back to her.

She continued to smoke, allowing the smoke to cloud above them, before she asked, “now how are you really doing?”

Jughead hesitated for a moment before he sighed. “It still feels like my life is falling apart,” he admitted. “Things with my dad…it’s bad. The Ghoulies attacked me, I don’t fully fit in with the Serpents or the Northside, and it feels like I’m drowning in my own head.”

She nodded sympathetically. Looking pensive, she questioned, “does anyone really ever fit in? I think we’re all trying to earn our stripes,” she quoted Fangs. “Even if we’re trying to earn them for different reasons. Everyone’s got a struggle, some are just better at hiding it than others.  Know what you’ve got to do? You’ve got to own it. Secure your own spot.”

He was quiet for a moment, seemingly digesting her words.

Putting out her cigarette, she motioned for him to follow her again. “Come on.”

This time, he asked, “where are we going?”

“A little skipping is healthy now and then,” she replied, and at his hesitant look, she laughed. “You’re not seriously going to tell me you’d rather be here, are you?”

“It’s not that. I haven’t been a student here very long and I’m trying to blend in,” he reminded her, making her laugh.

“If you want to blend in, then you’ll skip. That’ll blend you right in with the current student body,” she joked, making him laugh.

He admired her side profile as they exited the campus. Her dark hair was down, though tucked behind her ears, and he noted the jewelry adorning them. He could tell she was wearing makeup, but it wasn’t the amateur cakey kind. It drew attention to her dark eyes and full lips.

His attention was drawn back to their surroundings when she led him to Pickens Park, making him raise an eyebrow.

“You’re not planning on killing me, are you?” He joked and she rolled her eyes.

“Please. If I was going to kill you, it wouldn’t be in a park.” She smirked at him, dropping her backpack on the park bench, and he deposited his beside it.

She ran to one of the swings, sitting on it immediately, and he snorted. “So the cool girl at Southside high likes to relive her childhood at local junkie parks? Interesting.”

“Hey, you’re never too old to swing,” she defended. “Now get over here and push me!”

Laughing, he rolled his eyes and complied. He could feel the warmth of her skin beneath her the thin fabric of her black tank top. She’d taken her old flannel off, tying it around her waist, and he could see a tattoo on her shoulder. She looked genuinely happy, kicking her legs as he pushed her on the swing, and it made him wonder. Without warning, she jumped off, landing hard on her feet.

“Whoa. You could’ve hurt yourself,” he scolded and she laughed.

“Maybe,” she agreed. “But the thrill of that moment, being free..it’s addicting.”

He felt a shiver run down his spine and the words automatically fell from his lips. “How’s Bartholomew?”

She laughed. “He’s good. Still being a bad cat, but I think that’s a trait learned from his owner. You should stop by sometime and see him, whenever you’re in the neighborhood.”

“I live in Sunnyside again,” he confirmed, and she looked pleased. “So maybe you could bring him over.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

They sat on the small jungle gym, side by side, discussing life on the Southside. He liked watching her expressions. Her eyes truly were the windows to her soul.

“You’re not a Serpent,” he observed, and she laughed.

“I’m not,” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “My brother would kill me if I joined a gang.”

“You seem so close with them, though,” Jughead pointed out and she looked at him.

“Joining a gang is serious business,” she explained. “It’s not just a club or after school function. It’s a commitment you have to make for life. My brother..he had his reasons for joining, but he doesn’t want me to be apart of that. I can’t say I blame him.”

“But if it was your choice?” Jughead pressed and she smiled.

“I’m already an honorary Serpent. I’m bound, whether I have a jacket or not. It might be in a different way than he is, but I’m bound nonetheless,” she revealed, looking wistfully into the distance. The sun was shining their way and he could see the flecks of amber in her eyes. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah.” He seemed satisfied, but she could tell something was still on his mind. Though from what she knew about him, he seemed to always have something on his mind.

“I should walk you back home,” he announced, as the end of school was upon them.

“That would be the gentlemanly thing to do,” she teased, taking his hand and letting him help her stand. They retrieved their backpacks from the park bench and started the walk back to Sunnyside. The walk was quiet, but not unpleasant.

As they reached her door, Jughead said, “thanks for all this.”

She nodded. “Any time.”

“I think I’ve made my mind up,” he called, and she smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Just figured you’d like to know.”

She smiled appreciatively, glancing at him as he looked intently at her. “Bye, Jones.”

He chuckled. “Bye.”

As she shut the door he wandered over to his trailer, his head spinning.

“Good luck tonight,” she was telling Jughead, fixing his collar.

“You’re all dressed up for the occasion,” he noted, eyeing her in the little black dress and boots she wore.

“I always dress up for initiations,” she assured him with a smile, He easily returned it. “Go get em, tiger.”

With her blessing, he went to stand and wait for the gauntlet to start. Toni joined her friend, who was eagerly looking on.

“He’s something,” Toni said casually, to which she agreed. Glancing at her, Toni added, “you guys have been spending a lot of time together, haven’t you?”

“Shut up, Topaz,” she said with a roll of her eyes and Toni laughed. Toni handed her his Serpent jacket, raising her eyebrows, and she snatched it from her hands.

She wandered over to the bruised up new Serpent, who turned to look at her. A smile spread across her face. “Welcome to the family, Jones.”

He took the jacket gratefully, sliding it over his shoulders as the Serpents cheered. She admired him in the leather before rejoining Toni at the bar. The two girls talked quietly, until she heard the clearing of a throat behind her. She turned, seeing Jughead with a sheepish look on his face.

“I need to get cleaned up,” he told her. “Do you mind helping me?”

She smiled. “Not at all.”

He nodded, slowly walking away, and she turned to exchange a look with Toni, who promptly offered her a shot. After downing it, she sauntered after Jughead, ignoring her brother’s watchful eyes.

Jughead led her into the empty trailer, walking to the fridge and getting ice for his bruised face. She sat at the table beside him, studying him carefully. Breaking the silence, she asked, “do you think you did the right thing?”

Nodding, he turned to look at her. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good.” She smiled in satisfaction.

She moved closer to him, gently grabbing the ice bag from him. She sat on the table in front of him, looking at his bruises carefully as she gently applied ice to them. His eyes traveled up her body, lingering on her face. His palms gently came to rest on her warm thighs and he leaned up, pressing his lips against hers.

For a moment, she froze. Then, she let the bag fall to the floor with a hard thud as she raised her hands to his face, kissing him back. His hands gripped her thighs, tugging her close, as they kissed deeply. There was a fire in their eyes when she pulled away, and a devious smirk made its way onto her face as she hopped off the table, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom.

The next morning, she woke up beside Jughead. He was snoring soundly, his black hair a mess, shirtless but with his jeans still on. She sat up silently, stretching, so as not to wake him. She reached for her phone, making sure she didn’t have any calls or texts, before she heard a knock on the door. Not wanting to wake him, she quickly hopped out of bed and made her way to the front door. She quickly ran her fingers through her dark tresses, making them settle. She was only wearing Jughead’s shirt, which she was painfully aware of as she pulled the door open just a bit.

On the other side of it was a wide eyed blonde. The two stared at each other for a moment before she spoke. “Can I help you?”

“I was looking for Jughead,” the blonde said with a forced smile. “But I guess he’s busy at the moment.”

“He is,” she assured her, immediately placing her as the elusive Betty Cooper, aka Jughead’s Northside ex. She crossed her arms, an amused smile on her face. “I’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Betty said quickly, turning away from her.

Biting back another sassy remark, she rolled her eyes and shut the door. That was a problem for another day. She had begun to walk to the bedroom when Jughead emerged, rubbing his eyes.

“Who was that?” He asked with a yawn, and she shrugged.

“Wrong house,” she replied, approaching him and giving him a kiss. He seemed surprised, but he placed his arm around the girl. Pulling away, she said, “let’s get you cleaned up. We may have neglected that last night.”

Chuckling, he followed her to the kitchen.