#the kind of kid who always had a home lunch and owned a phone way before anyone else even though we weren't allowed to have phones

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 40 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Casey is obnoxious to you once again, you try your best to go about your day even though you're on the verge of tears. Bradley knew he shouldn't have been lying to you, but he didn't see any other way of dealing with things. Especially not when he was making some last minute changes.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of smut and age gap (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley didn't answer his phone when you called him on your way to work. Casey was trying to bait you, of that you were almost positive. But Bradley was acting strange all on his own, and the twin bakery boxes made you a little more anxious than you wanted to admit, even to yourself. 

This was going to be the downside to being with Bradley. He was older and sexy and had a real job and a cute kid, and other people were always going to take notice of that. But he put you in his will. He'd talked about rings, and you'd seen them in his internet tabs. There was no way he wasn't serious about this, because even if he was messing with you, he wouldn't mess with Noah. 

But you still felt jealous and petty as you drove to work. That crown shaped donut was adorable and delicious, but at what cost? Now you wished you had taken the time to see what was inside the pastry box Casey had at the daycare. You called Bradley one more time as you walked into work, but of course he didn't answer even though he should still have his phone on him at this hour. The urge to text or call Natasha was strong right now.

After you took care of a few of your patients, you caved and dug your phone out of your bag. Bradley finally responded to you.

Bradley Bradshaw: Hey, I know you said you're going grocery shopping on your way home today, but I need you to pick up Noah. I'll be late again.

You rolled your eyes as you texted him back.

Why exactly will you be late today?

You didn't have time to wait for a response, because you had to get the exam rooms ready for the upcoming patients. Dr. Kelly was dealing with an emergency in exam room one, and there was another child throwing up all over the waiting room. At the rate you were going here, you'd be lucky if you could even get to Noah on time after work. You felt like you were being pulled in four different directions, and you weren't in the mood for Bradley's bullshit. 

When nobody else wanted to clean up the waiting room, you went ahead and did it without complaining; it wasn't that kid's fault he had food poisoning. But you ended up crawling around on the floor for fifteen minutes with rubber gloves on, and then you just got more backed up with the child who was waiting for you in the last exam room. You didn't have time to eat lunch, but you took a quick bathroom break and checked your phone. 

There was nothing from Bradley, but Natasha had texted asking what you were wearing to Admiral Bates' retirement party. You pressed your lips together and took a screenshot of the poofy purple skirt and top that should be arriving today and sent it to her. Before she could respond, you sent another quick message.

Are you working late with Bradley today? Did you have to work late with him yesterday?

You used the bathroom and washed your hands, and you checked your phone one last time. 

Natasha Trace: I haven't been working late, and I followed him out of the parking garage yesterday. That shade of purple is going to look stunning next to Bradley's dress whites. I can't decide between my own dress whites or a formal gown. What's your opinion? Look like one of the guys or look like I'm trying too hard? Like I can't fucking win here, you know?

You absolutely loved that she wanted to ramble to you about her black tie options, you really did. But now you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. She just confirmed for you that Bradley left work on time yesterday. At the bare minimum he was lying to you again, but he could be doing something behind your back that would hurt you even more than that.

"Fuck," you muttered, knowing you had to get back to work. You smiled at your patients and let them take their time picking out stickers all afternoon. You cleaned and disinfected the exam rooms. You entered all of the information into the electronic charts while you answered questions for parents. You did it all without freaking out like you wanted to. 

When you were dismissed, you grabbed your things and rushed to your car to make it to the daycare in time to get Noah. Tears already stung your eyes, because you just knew you'd feel so much better when you got to see him and get a hug. You were still trying to decide if it was better or worse if Casey was still here as you parked and headed inside. Then her eyes locked with yours as soon as you entered the small lobby, and she still looked so smug in her cute outfit. But at least this meant she wasn't with Bradley. 

"Oh, it's you again," she said pleasantly as you walked to the counter. 

You put your hand out for the clipboard and said, "Yep. It's me. Told you I wasn't going anywhere. Could you please bring Noah out?"

"I will," she replied, reaching into that fucking blue box and pulling out a crown shaped donut. She nibbled on the end before setting it down again and handing you the clipboard. "You're the last one to arrive for pickup, which actually makes sense when I think about it. Bradley has you running all over the place for him, doesn't he?"

You ground your molars together to keep your mouth shut and signed your name as she took another bite of the donut. 

"I guess that's what babysitters do though. But it's funny that he didn't mention you at all when he and I were at the bakery yesterday."

Your eyes snapped up to meet her self satisfied gaze, and you wanted to rip that pretty donut out of her hand. "Just go get Noah."

"Gladly," she replied, heading for the classroom door. "You're holding me up right now anyway. I need to get back to Sweet Dreams to meet up with someone who looks damn good in a pair of aviator sunglasses. It's so nice having the best bakery in the city right in my neighborhood. It's a great spot to meet up with people."

If Bradley came home with another blue pastry box and claimed he was at work late again, you were going to throw the box back in his pretty face. 

"Mommy!" Noah called as he streaked across the lobby to you a second later. "I painted a purple dog for you!" He was holding up a painting of a purple blob with eyes and a nose, and you couldn't hold back your smile. 

"I love it," you whispered as you picked him up and kissed his chubby cheek. You made the decision to completely ignore Casey as you turned and walked out to the parking lot. "Hey, we need to stop and get groceries, so how about you pick what you want for dinner tonight."

He looked at you with those brown eyes that were identical to his dad's, except that these ones didn't have to try to look innocent, they just were. "Probably mac and cheese and ants on logs."

"Sounds perfect."

Once you and he got inside the grocery store, you were feeling extra ridiculous. You thought about making it a point to run up Bradley's credit card bill as high as you could by selecting imported exotic fruits and a bottle of champagne, but you just couldn't waste the money. You did buy yourself some expensive chocolate that you ate on the drive home though as you wondered just how late he was going to be tonight. 

You were kind of shocked as you pulled down the block with Noah and a trunk full of groceries to see the Bronco parked in the driveway. It was 6:45, so he must have arrived just before you, and you couldn't wait to put him on the spot. You slammed your door before unbuckling Noah from his seat in the back, and you really did feel like the fucking babysitter again right now. 

"Let's go, sweet Noah," you told him, leaving the groceries where they were for now. Hand in hand, the two of you walked up to the porch while he told you how many raisins he wanted on his carrots, but you barely heard him. When you opened the front door, Bradley was standing right there in the middle of the living room with a stupid smile on his face. He was holding another blue pastry box. 

"Hi," he said, leaning down to kiss you, but you backed away. His face scrunched in concern. "Everything okay?"

Noah was already bugging to see what was in the box this time, and you noticed Bradley had his other hand tucked behind his broad back. 

"I mean... no, not really," you said, slightly embarrassed by the way your voice shook. "Did you see Casey at the bakery again today? Just like last night?"

He looked completely taken aback. "How did you know I saw Casey last night?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and whispered, "Why do you keep lying to me about coming home late?"

Bradley sighed and pressed his lips together. "Look, I didn't want to have to lie to you, okay? That wasn't really my original plan, but then things got a little out of hand, and I didn't really see any other option."

"Just say it," you whispered, ready to reach for the box as your hands shook.

"I just wanted it to be a surprise," he said blandly as he pulled his hand out from behind his back. You gasped, and Noah immediately gave up on his mission to get something sweet out of the blue box.

"A dog!" Noah shouted as you looked at the tiny little Yorkshire terrier that Bradley was holding around the middle with one hand. It had a purple bow on top of its head and one leg in a cast, and it was honestly one of the cutest things you'd ever seen in your life. "A dog! A dog!" 

Bradley dropped down to kneel so Noah could get a closer look, but he kept his eyes on you as he said, "I adopted her from the shelter across town. It's on the same block as that fancy bakery. She has a broken leg, so we need to be really gentle with her while she's healing, okay?" He set the box down on the floor and sat with Noah, and now you were feeling pretty embarrassed. You still wanted to know what Casey was doing, but you tentatively sat down on the floor as well. 

When Bradley held his other arm out, you crawled in to give him a huge while Noah petted the little brown bundle of fur. He was showing how gently he could be, and the dog started licking his hands. You kissed Bradley's cheek, but he looked a little stern as he softly said, "You know I did this for you, right? You and Noah."

You didn't know what else to say, so you simply said, "Thank you."

He sighed and kissed your lips. "I saw Casey for like five minutes while I waited in line to buy your crown donut, okay? The guy from the shelter needed to interview me about getting a dog with an injury, so he and I sat in the bakery for a while and talked. I dropped off a check this afternoon, because they don't accept app payments, and I stopped at the bakery again for you. Then the guy from the shelter came by and did a quick inspection of the house and our backyard like an hour ago. And he left the dog with me. That's all."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered, "I love you, and I love the dog. And I'm happy you got to use your checkbook without anyone laughing at you."

Bradley chuckled as you ran your fingers through the dog's fur. She looked up at you with brown eyes that you swore perfectly matched those of the Bradshaw boys. 

"What's her name?" Noah asked as he got his face licked.

"Whatever you want it to be," Bradley replied. "She doesn't have one yet."

You and Noah made eye contact and both smiled brightly. "Skittles!"

Bradley groaned and laid back on the area rug right next to the snag, and he plopped Skittles down on his chest. "You already had a name picked out? And it's Skittles?"

"Yes!" Noah replied, also laying on Bradley's chest to get better access to his new pet.

"We picked a name that could work for a boy dog or a girl dog," you told Bradley, your heart feeling lighter than it had for the past day. "She's so adorable," you crooned as you ran your dand down her back. "Hi, Skittles. You're precious." Her brown eyes were transfixed on your face as you scratched just the right spot behind her ear. "Why is she in a cast?"

Bradley propped his hands behind his head, and the pup carefully walked up to lick his neck and face as you took a few pictures. "Hit by a car. She was abandoned down near Imperial Beach and someone dropped her at the shelter last week. I mentioned I was looking for a small puppy or younger dog that didn't shed, and Bob found her on the shelter website."

"You were left all alone? You sweet thing," you whispered, getting close enough for a lick across your nose. "She's darling!"

"Can she sleep with me in my bed?" Noah asked as Skittles climbed carefully onto Bradley's bicep and then onto the rug. She sniffed around the pastry box before plopping down bedside Bradley with her broken leg sticking out in front of her. 

"Maybe after her cast comes off, Bub."

Noah tried his best to pout, but you saw right through it, and a few seconds later he was smiling again. "Noah, what do you say to Daddy?" you reminded him. Then he was in Bradley's arms saying thank you a million times in a row.

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

While Bradley unloaded the groceries, you and Noah played on the living room floor with Skittles. He shook his head as he locked your car. "Skittles," he muttered, hauling the last few bags inside. "You've got to be shitting me." He chuckled to himself. You'd come into his life with your candy and your glossy lips and your sweetness and upended everything. He owned a fucking dog now, and you'd named it after your favorite snack. He even had a reminder in his phone to pay off his credit card balance so he could start shopping for a ring next month.

You smiled up at him from the floor as Noah squeaked a toy and held it out to the dog. Damn it, she was actually adorable. And the shelter gave her a little purple bow when he asked for that color. And she definitely had the puppy eyes down pat, because Bradley couldn't even walk through the room without stopping to pet her. 

He ended up carrying Skittles around the house for the rest of the night after you made mac and cheese for dinner. The dog was already trained to go to the bathroom outside, but he needed to be careful with her cast. The staff from the animal shelter had absolutely grilled him for information before they even came out to inspect whether or not the house and yard were safe for her. 

"Yeah, this is your yard now," he whispered to the dog as he carried her outside in one hand. She licked his cheek before he set her down and watched her sniff around as it got darker outside. She was only a year or two old, which is what he wanted. This way Noah and potentially his younger sibling could have more time with her as the dog grew older. 

"Come here," Bradley called, and Skittles moved as quickly as her little casted leg would allow her to. She stopped at his feet and looked up at him. "Fuck. You really are cute. And I'm going to look like an asshole when I take you for walks." But he was smiling as he picked her up again. When he turned, you were standing in the open doorway.

"You won't look like an asshole, Daddy. You'll look as adorable as Skittles does."

He kissed your forehead and asked, "Is Noah in bed?"

"Yeah. He wants you to go in and say goodnight. And may I please hold the dog for a few minutes?" you asked with a little pout. 

"Nope," he replied, kissing your cheek. "Gotta let Noah say goodnight to her, too."

"Then can I play with her?"

Bradley held the dog's face up to his ear. "What's that, Skittles? You said you like me the best and want me to keep holding you? That's what I thought."

"Hey!" you complained, playfully hitting his arm as the pup licked his ear. You looked happier right now than you had earlier, but Bradley knew he needed to have a conversation about Casey. He couldn't understand what set you off so much earlier. 

As he carried Skittles toward Noah's room, he replayed the events from yesterday in his mind. He'd been sitting in the bakery for about an hour before he finished talking to the representative from the animal shelter, and when he stood up, Casey was already there. And yeah, she was a nuisance as usual. She put her hand on Bradley's forearm and mentioned that she liked his uniform, but she always tried to do that shit. Then she waited in line like she was with him instead of behind or in front of him, and she went on and on about how she lived right around the corner.

When he finally managed to leave with the bakery box and your cute donut, he was exhausted. And he'd only had to listen to her for a few minutes. Then she stood next to the Bronco with him like she expected a ride home or something, which was ridiculous since she told him so many times that she lived around the corner. 

He sighed and kissed Skittles on the head as he carried her in to say goodnight to Noah. "I love her," his son said as Bradley held her so she could lick his face. "I'll be really careful so she can sleep in here with me," he pleaded. 

Bradley kissed his cheek. "Not tonight, Bub. I already told you, she needs to heal up first."

Noah reached out to pet her before rolling onto his side with a little scowl, but he was already asleep by the time Bradley left the room. And then he went into his bedroom which always smelled like wildflowers and found you on the bed wearing that sexy little purple nightie you bought online. For a brief second he wondered if you were wearing your plug, but then he remembered he needed to have a conversation with you. 

You held your hands out to Skittles, but Bradley just shook his head and carried her to the little plush bed he set up in the corner and set her there. She walked in a delicate circle before plopping down and yawning. "How are you this cute?" he asked the animal before turning back to where you were sitting with your arms crossed.

"Why won't you let me hold Skittles?"

"Because we need to talk," he replied immediately. You flopped back against the pillows as Bradley climbed in bed with you. "Come here," he whispered, patting his chest, and sure enough, you crawled over and snuggled against him. "Tell me what's bothering you."

You draped your arm across his abs and said, "You won't let me hold Skittles!"

"That's not what I'm talking about," he murmured, kissing the top of your head. He didn't want to have to be the one to say it, so he stroked your bare arm and waited. 

You sighed softly and said, "Casey always tries to bait me when I see her at daycare dropoff or pick up. I'm sorry I came in hot with you today. But you should hear what she says."

Bradley thought he'd made it clear that he wasn't interested in her after he returned from his last deployment. He made no secret of grabbing at you and kissing you in front of Casey. He knew it was probably because you and she were the same age, and Casey definitely saw the way he doted on you. "She's probably just jealous, because I like to spoil you."

You snorted. "She's jealous, because you're hot, Daddy."

Bradley could feel his cheeks flush with heat as you shifted slightly and looked up at him. "What did she say to you today?" he asked.

Your eyes fluttered closed in embarrassment, and you looked bashful as you whispered, "She made it seem like she met you at the bakery. Like it was something you and she planned ahead of time. And she had a blue bakery box and a princess crown donut, and she ate it in front of me. And now I'm starting to realize how ridiculous this sounds, because I trust you."

"I know you do, Princess," he replied as he looked at your purple crown on the bedpost. "And I trust you. But I just can't believe she did that." He studied your gorgeous face and ran his knuckles along your cheek. "I'm sorry I lied to you about staying at work late. That was shitty. I just wanted you and Noah both to be surprised since you've both been bugging for a dog. I just wanted to get you something special."

"Apology accepted. And dog accepted, too," you whispered as he stroked the soft skin of your neck.

"Listen. I'm not interested in Casey. I'm never going to be interested in Casey. I saw her for five or ten minutes at the bakery, and she asked why I was on that side of town. I told her the other guy was from the shelter and I was thinking about getting a dog. She waited with me in line and practically gave me a migraine from how much she talks. I didn't pay attention to what she bought, so if she had a princess crown donut, then she bought it herself."

You smiled up at him. "Those donuts are so good. Pissed me off that she had one and tried to rub it in my face. She must have heard what you ordered."

He smirked. "Yeah well, you're the one getting cream filled donuts and a cream filled pussy anytime you want."

"Daddy!" you gasped. "That's fucking naughty."

"Get up here," he whispered, and then you moved up his body until your lips met his. "I love you. You're Noah's mommy. You're my Princess. I want to be with you. Don't worry about Casey." But he knew he'd have to have another conversation tomorrow, which he was more than happy to do for you. 

You pressed soft kisses to his mustache as he ran his hand up your thigh, curious if you were wearing panties. You were not. "You know what I really want, Daddy?"

"Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

You gently bit his bottom lip before releasing it and giggling. "I want to play with Skittles."

Bradley groaned as you scrambled off of his semi hard cock and climbed out of bed. He got a delicious view of your bare ass as you bent to pick the dog up and carry her back to bed. "You're the cutest little girl! Look at you in your purple bow! Oh, I just love you!"

Then he watched as you climbed back onto the bed with all the care in the world and had the pup cradled against you. When he chuckled and left the room, you didn't even seem to notice. He used the bathroom and went to the kitchen in search of the blue pastry box while he planned out what he'd say to Casey. He wasn't about to tolerate someone intentionally making you uncomfortable, especially when it came to him. 

He grabbed a plate and the fresh princess crown donut, wondering if he could get the bakery to make one that looked like a wedding ring. Then he carried the plate back to the bedroom where Skittles was laying on her back while you tickled her tummy. Bradley just stood there and held the plate as he watched you play and listened to you laugh. You kissed the dog and said, "I'm going to buy you a purple collar and leash with Daddy's credit card. And when your cast comes off, Noah and I will take you for hikes around the block. And Daddy is so big, he's going to look so hot walking such a tiny dog. Either that, or he'll look like an asshole."

"I'm standing right here." 

You smirked when you looked at him. "I know," you said, scratching Skittles on her belly as she squirmed around. "Is it okay if I order her a leash and some snacks?"

"Get whatever you want," he said, handing you the plate and kissing you before he stole the dog from your grasp.

"Hey!" you complained with a laugh.

"It's time for Skittles to go to bed. Eat your princess donut, and then I'll fill you with cream if you're in the mood for it."

You just looked at him coyly as you nibbled on the donut, and he put the pup in her little bed once again.

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

The next morning, Bradley let you sleep in a little later than usual while he got Noah ready and packed you a sandwich for your lunch. He'd kept you up pretty late, fucking you slow and steady until he got a shaking orgasm out of you. Then he took his time as you babbled and kissed him sweetly, finally filling you up with his cum. He called you his little donut as you fell asleep. 

"Fuck," he grunted as he thought about it, starting to get hard in his flight suit as he made your peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

"Morning," you sang as you strolled into the kitchen in your scrubs. You kissed his cheek and then pet Skittles where she sat looking up at the sandwich, hoping some would fall on the floor. Then you sat down next to Noah as he ate his cereal and told you that he loved Skittles even more than dinosaurs.

"More than dinosaurs?" you asked, brushing his hair back from his forehead as he dipped his spoon back into his bowl. "That's a whole lot."

"Yep," he agreed. "I love Skittles almost as much as I love you and Daddy."

Bradley watched you kiss his son on the cheek before you got your own bowl of cereal ready. "Should we thank Daddy again for bringing her home?"

"Thanks, Daddy," you and Noah sang out in unison. 

Bradley just smiled and said, "You're welcome. Noah, finish eating so we're not late. Princess, can you put Skittles in her crate before you leave?"

"Yes," you told him between bites of breakfast. "And I'll order her leash and stuff later today."

He kissed you hard before bringing you coffee in the mug that said Noah's Daddy. Then he scooped Noah up and carried him off to get his shoes on. It was getting seriously late at this point, and he knew he'd be in the daycare for an extra minute or two this morning. "I love you, Baby," he called out, rushing back into the kitchen for a second when he was finally ready to leave. 

You gave him and Noah one last kiss apiece, and then Noah hugged Skittles. "We gotta go," Bradley told him, rushing him out to the Bronco. It only took a few minutes to get to the daycare, and Bradley had a good idea what he wanted to say. He found himself hoping that Casey was at the front desk this morning, not wanting to draw this shit out any longer. 

When he walked Noah inside, hand in hand, Bradley saw her right away. She looked up at him with parted lips and a little smile as he tugged his aviators off. Then she looked at his son and said, "Good morning, Noah!" Her eyes darted back up as she added in a softer voice, "And Bradley."

He watched her walk Noah into the classroom before he signed his name on the clipboard. When Casey walked back toward him, there was nobody else in the lobby. He held out the clipboard for her and said, "I'd actually prefer it if you called me Lieutenant Bradshaw."

She giggled as if she was being treated to something even better than use of his first name, and Bradley had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. "Okay, Lieutenant Bradshaw," she whispered, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

He cleared his throat. "Can we chat for a minute?"

Casey set the clipboard down and came to stand alarmingly close to him. This was every bit as bad as you had claimed, and frankly he was more than a little bit surprised by how bold she was. Bradley took a step away and shook his head. "Look Casey, this is never going to happen."

She froze on the spot, and her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. "Oh."

"Right. And I really don't want to have to go to your boss, so I need you to just knock it off, okay? My girl and I don't keep secrets from each other, so I know about how you talk to her, and I don't appreciate it at all. She's as good as being Noah's mom and my wife."

Now her cheeks were a deeper shade of red, and she was rushing back around to the other side of the desk. "Okay," she whispered. "I'm just surprised she said something to you about it."

"Don't be. Like I said, we talk about everything. And if you pull some more shit, I'll hear about that, too. Promise."

He stood his ground until she looked up at him. All she said was, "Okay," and then Bradley put his aviators back on as he turned toward the door. 

"You have a great day."

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

Casey, you literal nightmare. She'd be delighted if she broke them up. Can't wait to see her next time Princess shows up. And Daddy shouldn't even try to be sneaky. Just no, Daddy. But welcome, Skittles! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 41

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[ursuburbanmother]

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter One

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Angus have been best friends since you were little children. Now in high school the only thing that separates you is a lake between both your schools. Due to what was describe by your headmaster as "Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part," you are forced to stay at the Barton Academy for the holidays with the company of your best friend or maybe more.

a/n: hi guys! I’m new so try to be kind to me lol. Anyways this is probably not very good. It’s slow paced cause I wanted to establish their friendship. Not sure where this is going so if you have any suggestions let me know! Also not grammar or beta read so…

Word Count: 3k

Find: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Enjoy!

December 17th, 1970

You hadn’t spoken to your parents in months. You figured they would call or write a letter or something. In October they wished you a speedy little, “Happy Halloween,” before hanging up. You could hear the loud party in the background. Always the socialites, they were probably eager to get back to enjoying themselves by downing flutes of champagne and appetizers. Now it was December, and you had not received a peep from either. When the holiday plans form was passed out to the girls of your boarding school at the end of November, you ignored it. Then the deadline came, and you hastily checked off the box that said, ‘Plan to stay on campus.’

Your parents hadn’t called to dispute it and now you’re stuck at mass, sitting in a pew, watching other happy families and their daughters anxiously waiting to leave. You wondered if there was still a way for you to get away. Your friend, really only friend, Angus Tully was headed to St. Kitts and with him gone, your only true escape was gone. If he knew you were stuck holding over, he would beg his parents to take you, but you knew it would be too much of an imposition, so you kept that fact secret.

Life had always seemed to throw you two together. Even at the age where cooties were still a very legitimate fear. Born in the same snobby Boston neighborhood you two were often the only kids at your parent's parties. You remember that humid night on the Fourth of July when you had met the lanky boy with a mess of brown curls. The fireworks had begun to go off and everyone wore white dresses and suits. You had become restless and started to wander the halls of your home aimlessly. Streamers of blue, red and white hung from the ceiling and servers walked around passing out sparklers.

You found him on the patio. He tugged, annoyed, at his tie. Your own dress was stifling in the heat and for a pair of seven-year-olds, you found the best solution to your ailment was to jump into the shallow end of the pool.

“I’ll do it, if you do it,” you had promised under the hum of cicadas and floating fireflies.

“Deal,” you shook hands.

The water was cold and clear. You swam around for a while, splashing each other and playing Marco Polo. It was at the same time your mother had decided to move the party outside so people could watch the lights in the sky a bit better. You two were pulled out of the pool and shook like wet dogs.

Livid, your parents fed you the line all parents wait to say to their troublesome child, “If your friend jumped off a bridge, would you?” You decided at that moment that yes, you would.

After that you two were inseparable. Because when you're a kid all you need is one single act of solidarity to devote your life to someone. Throughout elementary school you were practically fused to one another. You’d exclude people from your game of hopscotch and eat lunch in secret nooks. When you two were headed to high school your parents enrolled you in a posh all-girl boarding school and Angus to some prep school in another rural part of Massachusetts. Phone calls rang long. You remember the groans you would get from other girls who would give up trying to use the payphone. At some point you had run out of quarters and so to save money you had begun writing letters. Angus being Angus, he’d write as if he was off at war and the letters were the last things keeping him sane.

You knew he never enjoyed school but after he was kicked out from his first preparatory, then his second and third, you had turned into a scolding mother.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Die if I’m lucky, shave my head at Fork Union if not.”

“I want to go to college with you Angus. If not college then I at least want to be able to be an adult with you. One with a diploma so we can get easy jobs as regional salespeople or something,” you mumbled, twirling the phone cord around with your finger.

“You really thought this out,” he laughed.

“I’m serious, Augie.” You heard him sigh across the line.

“Okay. I’ll do better. No screw ups next time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

When he was sent to Barton, your sister school, you couldn’t have been more excited. It was a short walk away; you could see it from across the lake that separated you. Your mom had been the one to call you about the change. She said his mother thought having him near you would make him less fussy. Something about you being the good influence he needs. You doubted that yet bit your tongue, knowing it would create more trouble than anything. Now it had been over a year and Angus had kept his word. When the opportunity arose for you to meet up, you would take it. Football games or talent shows, you were there. To anyone outside, it would have appeared as though you two just held a lot of school spirit. Like that beach boy's song.

“Be true to your school now,” you’d sing into Angus' ear.

He’d roll his eyes but always join in, “just like you would to your girl or guy.”

“Rah-rah-rah-rah sis boom bah! I love that part!” You’d giggle.

He’d try to hide his smile, but you could always tell. He’d put his arm around your shoulder and say, “Yeah okay.”

…

Once you were dismissed from mass you sighed and trudged all the way back through the snow to your dorm building. Having it so empty was eerie, you could hear your own footsteps echoing down the halls. You made your way into the common room to wait for Ms. Orchard.

She was meant to be your babysitter for the next few weeks. She was your Renaissance literature teacher. Ms. Orchard was nice but on the older side, which meant she was traditional. You often thought she would be better suited to be a Home Economics teacher if she was so invested in being ladylike.

You sat in the corner of the couch and opened a book. Minutes passed and it seemed obvious no one was coming to join you. Not even Mrs. Orchard. She probably broke a hip trying to make her way back in the snow.

“Ms. Orchard has broken a hip while walking in the snow,” the door suddenly bursts open hitting the side of the wall so hard it shakes the room.

“What?” Your mouth drops at the news. Shit, had you jinxed it?

Your Dean, Mr. Jameson says as he walks in, covered in snowflakes. “Yup. She slipped on ice on the way here. By the parking lot. Didn’t you hear the ambulance?”

“Uh… no?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking around the room, “where are the other girls?”

“I think it’s just me sir.”

“Ah, right. Well that makes this easier. You’ll be spending your Christmas break at Barton. Now, it’s awfully last minute so we hope they take you. Why don’t you go get your bag ready and-,”

“Hold on. Barton the boys' school?” You could almost gag at the idea. No offense to Angus, but you could remember the endless horror stories he would tell you of life in a boys' school. The air always smelled weird, and cleanliness was the least of their worries. “Isn’t there somebody to replace Ms. Orchard?”

“This place cleared out thirty minutes ago, Ms. L/n,” he said, “And I have a family to get back to.”

“But-, I just-, isn't there a rule against this or something?”

“I have no doubt that the teacher supervisor there will ensure you have a safe, jolly time Ms. L/n.”

“But I-,”

“That’s enough. I understand this is an unprecedented situation, but the only alternative would be to leave you here alone and that just is not going to happen. Please Ms. L/n, make this easy for everyone.” With his hand he motioned towards the door.

“Fine,” you gritted out. You got off the couch and went to your room. You half-heartedly crammed anything you could into your suitcase. Some shirts, sweaters and pants. You ran out of space and resorted to carrying your books in your hands along with your potted plant. You felt bad leaving your lavender to just sit and wilt, so you took her with you.

“I made a few calls. Everything should work out. You all settled then?” Mr. Jameson said once you had made your way back to the common room. Nodding with a tight-lipped smile you headed out. You two could have walked but apparently, he was in a hurry to catch a six o’clock flight and you ended up taking his car.

It was a short drive and with reluctance you made your way inside the school. “Come on. Put a pep in your step,” Mr. Jameson clapped.

He navigated you around. You had only been in the main building, never the dorms. Blindly you let him guide you until you found yourself in a room with four other boys and Angus. Angus who was supposed to be half-way to the airport by now. His sulky face shifted into one of shock. You took a step towards him only to be stopped by your dean's arm in front of you. The other guys were looking at you with mouths wide open. It was like their eyes were about to fall out of their sockets. You grumbled, not knowing what else to do.

Mr. Jameson took the lead, “Mr. Hunham? Correct?” He outstretched his hand for him to shake. Hesitantly the older man took it.

“What’s the meaning of this,” he pointed between Mr. Jameson and you.

“Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part. This is Ms. Y/n L/n. Come introduce yourself.”

“I’m Y/n L/n,” you shrugged, looking at Angus for guidance. In unison they all say hello.

“Can we speak in private,” Mr. Jameson asked.

“Alright,” Mr. Hunham says, “no funny business,” he gives a pointed look to the boys.

The two teachers leave, and you quickly move to Angus to encapsulate him in a quick hug.

“What the hell? What are you doing here?”

“Funny, I was going to ask the same thing.”

“What the hell Angus. You have a girlfriend?” A blonde boy with a red tie says as his eyes scan your figure. You shift uncomfortably at the action. “A smoking one too…”

“Shut it Kountze, you’re catching flies,” Angus scoffs.

The door creaks open as both gentlemen return from their brief chat. You and Angus move away from each other like you were caught doing something wrong.

“It seems we will be extending you an invitation to Ms. L/n,” Mr. Hunham says, “you okayed this with Woodrup?” He verifies again with Dean Jameson.

“Yes, it’s all settled. We at Janie Patrick’s School thank you. We owe you one,” he turns to you, “goodbye L/n, you’re in good hands.”

He was halfway through the door when Mr. Hunham cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly. “As I was saying, we will be following a standard school schedule.”

“Uh, sir? We’re on vacation.” Kountze points out.

“Which means we’ll be taking our meals together. And you will observe regular hours of study.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“The Peloponnesian War awaits, Mr. Kountze, you and Mr. Tully. The rest of you can get a jump on next semester. It’ll pay off. You’ll see.”

“We’re already holding over, and now we’re being punished for it?” Angus says bitterly and on fast reflex you rub his arm comfortingly. Mr. Hunham is just as fast to notice.

“Oh no, no, no. Do not tell me this is your girlfriend Mr. Tully.”

“Wh-what. No! We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, we were born on the same street!”

“I do not intend to break apart your romantic escapades all break long.”

“We. Are. Just. Friends,” Angus reaffirms, venom on his tongue. You could see the blush rising on his pale cheeks. You could feel your own as well.

“Mhm,” Hunham hums skeptically, his gaze lingers on you two for a second before glancing back at his clipboard, “Alright… You will be afforded limited windows for recreation and supervised physical activity.”

“The gyms are not even open yet.”

“Yeah, they only lacquered half the floor,” another boy points out, this one has long blonde hair that reaches his shoulders.

“Fresh air will do you good,” says Hunham.

“It’s like 15 degrees outside.”

“And the Romans bathed naked in the freezing Tiber. Adversity builds character Mr. Tully. Uh, speaking of which, the school will be cutting heat to dormitories and faculty housing and so we’ll all be bunking in the infirmary. With separate accommodations for Ms. L/n of course.”

They all groan. You're just upset. You had thought you would spend the next two weeks avoiding Ms. Orchard and lying to Angus about your whereabouts while he admiringly described the beaches of St. Kitts to you over postcards. Although you supposed it wasn’t all bad. You could spend more time with him, under the watchful glare of Angus' teacher of course.

Together you all get ready to haul your things to the infirmary before being stopped by Mr. Hunhams tsking in disapproval.

“You philistines are just going to let the lady carry her own things? I’m sorry to see Barton has failed in ingraining a sense of chivalry into you.”

“Oh no, it’s alright really, I can do it,” you protest but they all scramble to help you anyway. “Can I carry your suitcase Y/n?” Kountze says, in an odd way, that was meant to be suggestive.

“Okay Kountze, piss off,” Tully pushes him away, leaning down slightly to get your things, “let’s go.” He walks quickly out the door, leaving the rest of you to follow him.

As you are slapped in the face by the harsh winds you curse the idiots at your school who refused to let you wear pants. You were forced to put on double the tights and your warmest coat. It did not do anything to aid you and your shivering made that clear. It was like they wanted to torture you when the boys stopped halfway down the quad and in front of a truck. You're still holding your books so it's not like you can rub your arms to help you out a little. They were complaining about Hunham, who they so endearingly nicknamed “Walleye.”

“Hey, guys, hold up for a second,” Angus tells the young kids in front of you. He sets his, and your things, down on the grimy paved road. He searched through his pockets and lit a cigarette. “Want one?” he asks you and Kountze.

“No. I got something else. Give me that,” he grabs the lighter from him and sparks a joint.

“Hey, don’t smoke that out here. I don't want to get busted by Walleye.”

“Don’t be such a pussy,”

“I’m not a pussy, I just don't want to end up at Fork Union paying for your mistake.”

He ignores Angus and instead turns his attention to you instead, “You're not like a total priss right?”

You shake your head. At least you didn’t think you were.

“Alright,” he smirks and stretches his hand out for you to shake, “Teddy Kountze.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. The other unnamed boy is the next to greet you.

“Jason Smith.”

“We know who you are. You want to hit this,” Teddy offers the jock the joint.

Jason scans his surroundings before agreeing, “Uh, yeah.”

“You got a great arm man,” he compliments,

“Yeah, well, it’s just football.”

“How’d you get stuck holding over?”

“I’m supposed to be skiing with my folks up at Haystack, but my dad put his foot down. Said I can’t come home unless I cut my hair.”

“So why don’t you cut your hair?

“Civil disobedience, man.”

“I dig that,” you comment. “You know that when they tried to cut that tree between our schools, I organized the tree-sitting.”

“Holy shit that was you? Figured it was some hippies from Boston,” Teddy snickers.

“Nope. I sat in that tree for hours, drinking from water bottles that Angus tossed up to us.”

“Did it work?” Jason wonders.

“For now, yeah.”

“Awesome…. But no, he’s cool. It’s just a battle of wills. Still, I was hoping he’d cave first, because the powder up at Haystack is so sweet right now.”

“What about you, Mr. Moto? Why are you here?” Teddy asks one of the first-year boys.

He appears embarrassed to be singled out, “No, my name is Ye-Joon. My family is in Korea, and they think it’s too far for me to travel alone.”

“I figured it was because your rickshaw was broken,” Teddy laughs to himself. Angus didn’t exaggerate when she said this guy was a jerk.

“What a rickshaw?”

Angus intervenes, “You’re an asshole, Kountze. Your mind’s a cesspool and a shallow one at that.”

“Who’s the asshole Tully? You’re the one who blew up history.” Jason notices the tension and brings the group's conversation back to the freshman.

“What’s your story man?”

“Alex Ollerman. I’m here because my parents are on a mission in Paraguay. We’re LDS. “Mormons, right?” Alex nods yes.

“Don’t you guys wear some kind of magic underwear?” It's like Teddy loves to hear himself talk, you think.

“Common misconception. Actually, it’s called a temple garment, and we’re only supposed to wear it when-.”

“Hey, what's with the townies?” Kountze spots two men emerging from the chapel with a large, heavy green tree in their grasp.

“Hey, what are you doing with our Christmas tree?” Angus shouts, tapping you on the shoulder in a way that says can you believe this?

“The school sold it back to us. Scotch pine, still fresh.” The stranger shouts back.

“Yeah, we’re going to put it back on the lot. We do it every year.”

“This is the most bullshit ever.”

The boys put out their separate smokes much to the relief of Alex and Ye-Joon. You fall behind the rest of them and Angus naturally finds his place next to yours. You stroll in silence until he decides to break the ice.

“You going to tell me what happened?”

“You tell me first. You were so excited to go on vacation.”

“One word. Stanley.”

You grimace, knowing what that means. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever. They want to spend their honeymoon forgetting my existence then they can do just that. I’m almost an adult anyway. Then I can go anywhere I want anytime.”

“Is that what Judy said?”

“That was the bullshit excuse, yes.”

“Hey, you got me though. We’ll make this fun.”

“We have no tree, Hunham will be breathing down our back, and Kountze hasn’t stopped ogling at you since you arrived. Does that sound like the perfect Christmas to you?”

You laugh softly, “Ignore Hunham and Kountze. As for the tree, we could always Charlie Brown it. What do you think the lavender is here for?” You shake your plant a little. The purple bush sways in the wind.

He smiles, “Yeah… It’s not a bad little tree,” he begins to quote.

“Maybe it just needs a little love,” you say together and break into a fit of giggles.

[silvervioletvalentine]

❣️Gift Giver❣️

Pairing: Max verstappen X single mom Cherrie!

Word count: 7k

Summary: in which Max’s love language is gift giving and cherrie can’t pretend to him for much longer.

Cherrie looked down at her phone boredly as she slowly ate away at her salad , sat outside on the lunch tables while they waited for their teams to tell them their press schedules for the day.

Barely paying any attention to those around her , vaguely listening to Daniel chat away to Charles about how excited he was for them to go to Vegas, humming along when  they tried to include her in their conversation .

Too busy texting her brother back and forth and smiling at the cute photos he sent her of Lola , feeling her heart soften at the sight of her baby girl grinning toothily at the camera .

She really did miss her and no matter how many times she had to leave to do her job, it never got any easier saying a goodbye to her baby. No matter the fact that she knew that she would have fun at her brothers home , happily occupied with playing with his own kids who were around the same age.

Sighing to herself a little sadly , kind of wishing that she had just brought Lola along with her to the paddock .

Although she knew that it probably wasn't the best of ideas to do seeing as Cherrie was well aware of how bad her mood had been lately , and when she was upset it always affected her racing too.

Not negatively, no. But in the way that she channelled her anger and upset into being more aggressive and risky on the track. She didn't want her baby to see her accidentally take someone else out or to see her own mother get into a crash too.

She was still mortified and furious at the fact that Lola had already witnessed her crash once.

The reason for her still simmering anger that didn't seem to be going away anytime soon thanks to a certain redbull driver .

Max had crashed into the side of her Ferrari a few weeks ago and she had yet to even look at him , despite the consistent and ongoing apologies and small talk he tried to make with her. She just point blank ignored him, thinking that it was for the best that she didn't open her mouth around max.

Because she was well aware that she had a nasty temper and a really bad habit of saying cruel and horrible things to people when she was pissed off.

And well, she was already in some trouble with the FIA about constantly swearing and going off on one over her team radio all the time.

So She couldn't really afford to be seen attacking max in the paddock, or anywhere really .

And she knew that she would be the only one that would get all the blame if she snapped at him anymore. Max having made himself out to be this apologetic Angel to the press, publicly telling her that he was sorry and telling the reporters that he was determined to repair their Rocky relationship and that he hoped to earn her forgiveness again soon.

Meanwhile Cherrie had publicly told him to get fucked and ranted to the press on multiple occasions about how much she fucking hated the sight of him and that they will certainly never be friends.

Especially not after he ruined her race when she had been on her track to brake records and become first in the race to world championship again.

She was furious , they're was no denying it but most of all she was getting increasingly annoyed at the way that max just wouldn't get the fucking hint and leave her the hell alone .

They had never even been friends in the first place .

At least , Cherrie had never considered max as anything more than a rival that she had to beat at the most .

She rarely spoke to him and the only time that she ever spent time with him was either at conferences or on the track.

They weren't friends . She didn't want to be friends either, she had enough of those .

She didn't need anymore drama or bullshit being added onto her life. She liked her routine and hated any type of change and becoming max verstappen's friend just wouldn't fit into her busy schedule.

She trained . She raced. She won and then she would head straight back home to be with her baby.

She didn't stick around to talk to anybody and it was a well known fact that she was not to be disturbed once she had finished with her work.

She simply turned off her phone and forget that everyone else even existed for a little while. That was the way she liked it.

But max would not leave her alone. Seeming determined to get her to forgive him and give him a second chance to make it up to her after practically flying her off the track out of pure carelessness around the corners . He had been stupid and refused to leave a gap , resulting in the both of them being pulled out of the race.

Cherrie had wanted to kill him when she had hauled her aching body out of her crashed Ferrari, glaring over at max who was doing the same.

She didn't even let him utter a single apology her way before she was hauling her heavy helmet at his head and snapping at him to fuck off before storming away.

Most people , after getting a helmet thrown at their head and being verbally assaulted to the media, would take the hint and leave her the fuck alone.

She had even expected max to retaliate . Maybe curse her out and glare her down every time that he saw her too.

It was what everyone else expected to happen too, knowing how serious max took winning and how his temper could be just as bad as hers was.

Yet none of that happened.

Instead he seemed to have turned into a needy teenager who was desperate for her to forgive him, trying to get her attention at every chance he got.

Like now for example.

She was still focused on her phone in front of her when she felt Charles nudge her leg underneath the table , still not looking up from her screen.

Muttering a moody "what?" To him.

Charles glanced over her shoulder to the redbull driver that was sending Cherrie hesitant glances as he stood talking to a member of his own team, looking like he was considering come over to their table. Weighing out his options and his luck of being murdered by her .

Charles nudged Daniel to get him involved too, the Australian glancing over at max with a bright smile as he happily waved him over.

"Max is coming over Cherrie. Think you can be nice?" Charles muttered to her with a amused grin toward his teammate .

Thoroughly enjoying watching max run after her like a sad puppy that was trying to get her attention while Cherrie just completely blanked him or give him unimpressed stares.

Charles was certain that Cherrie had gotten her poker face and judgmental looks from kimi, it was almost eery how similar  the two drivers looked when they were displeased with someone or something.

It was more than a little intimidating to witness the way that cherries face seemed to tell you to fuck off before her mouth even did.

Cherrie put down her phone , scowling irritably as she glanced behind her to see max walking over to them slowly , smiling at her hesitantly when he met her eyes.

She just groaned loudly and turned back around , immediately annoyed .

"Fucking hell! Why can't he just leave me alone?" She almost whined in misery as she stuffed her face with her food in distress.

Daniel snorted and laughed loudly at the look on her face, as though seeing max was causing her actual physical pain.

"Cause he wants to be your friend. Why can't you just say you forgive him and move on?" He voiced towards her in amusement , Charles nodding in agreement .

Cherrie just looked at him blankly "because I don't forgive him!" She stated back the obvious , huffing to herself as a familiar shadow fell over her.

Max sliding onto the seat at the end of the bench, right beside her.

Giving them all a smile but keeping his eyes on cherries pissed off face as he spoke up .

"Hey guys! What are you gossiping about?" He teased them. Picking up a tomato from Daniels plate and eating it. Ignoring Daniel telling him to get his own food and to keep his hands away from his plate.

Any rational and calming thoughts went out the window for her at the sound of his voice.

Her therapist telling her to take a deep breath and be kind always suddenly disappearing from her mind.

Instead of smiling politely , she scowled. Snapping at him "we're discussing all the ways that I could send you into the barrier during the next race." Referring to that fact that he had crashed her into the barrier himself . Refusing to let her anger go.

Max grimaced a little, sighing loudly. "I've said that I was sorry. It was accident honestly-" he started to explain himself for the hundredth time, having even sent her a postcard with a apology and explanation while they were both on their summer breaks too.

She had sent him a broken toy redbull car that she had snapped in half back to him in return.

Max took that as her not forgiving him in the slightest.

Cherrie glared over at him, unimpressed. "You know what else I'll make look like an accident?" She started lowly , ignoring Charles face palming at her immediately threatening max despite the long scolding that she had gotten from their team for doing so regularly.

"Me killing you. I'll make it look like an accident. Don't you worry." She snapped at him, body tense and stomach uneasy as she looked away from him stubbornly . Refusing to even meet his gaze.

Max pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow in vague amusement at how she always went straight to violence first .

He could offer her a high five and he was certain that she'd punch him in the face.

She was wired a little wrongly , clearly having the same hot headed temper that her father had been known to have on track too.

"Lovely." Max breathed out a small laugh. Easily brushing off her threat , used to it by now. Instead he  reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled something out carefully .

Then he held his hand out in front of her, clearing his throat a little to get her attention again.

"I got you these at the garage while I was filling up fuel to my car last night.." he muttered a little shyly , scratching the side of his reddening neck when he noticed the surprised and amused looks that he was being given from his friends.

Cherrie slowly glanced down at his hand, brows furrowing in surprise as she stared at the two packs of colourful socks in his hands.

They were both a bright orange colour with different pictures of animated cats on them. One in a adults size and another in a baby's size too.

She looked over at max in pure confusion "what? You got me ... socks?" The disbelief was clear in her voice as she cautiously took the packet of socks from

His hand as though they were a ticking time bomb.

Turning them over and inspecting them with a slight frown. Not knowing what to say.

She had just threatened to kill him and max was giving her socks?

What the fuck?

Max just laughed bashfully , gently nodding his head and refusing to even look over at Daniel and Charles who were giggling between themselves hysterically, Knowing looks on their faces as they watched max fidget underneath her shocked stare.

"Yeah.. I mean, I saw them and I remembered you telling someone that Lola was obsessed with cats lately  and well. It just reminded me of you guys." His quietly explained to her sheepishly .

Cherrie was speechless. Looking between the cartoon socks and her rival in disbelief.

Before finally slowly nodding her head. Sliding the socks into her bag beside her , clearing her throat a little awkwardly .

"Right.. well. Lola will love them so thank you .. I guess?" She frowned a little , beyond confused to why he was suddenly gifting her socks out of nowhere.

Max just smiled , relieved that she hadn't throw the socks at his head like she had done with her helmet.

From then on things got a little strange for Cherrie because suddenly max was popping up everywhere she was with weird little gifts in his hands for her.

Last Thursday he had walked over to her table and handed her a bottle of perfume that he had gotten from the airport .

Claiming that he thought she would like the smell as she awkwardly held onto the ridiculously large bottle of perfume and looked at him in pure confusion . Not knowing what the hell was going on.

"Are you trying to say that I stink?" She has bluntly asked him in confusion .

Watching with wide, bewildered eyes as max rapidly shook his head and Hurriedly assure her that he thought she smelled lovely all the time.

While a giggling Charles had tears in his eyes as he watched max awkwardly explain that he just saw the perfume and thought of her , again.

Because suddenly max had gotten it into his mind that random gifts were now the way to her heart.

Like now for example.

Cherrie was walking along the paddock ready to get some lunch, her little two year old stumbling alongside beside her as she held onto two of her fingers with her tiny hand.

Lola babbling away to her about a episode of Spongebob that she had been watching, Cherrie just humming along whenever was appropriate .

Only for her to pause in her step with wide eyes , also bringing Lola to a stop too as they both stared at a familiar redbull driver that was casually walking their way while pushing along a bright orange and black stroller , waving at them happily as though there was nothing out of the ordinary with him pushing a stroller . As though it was just something he did every day

He payed no mind to the shocked and confused looks he was receiving from everyone around them , simply pushing it over to Cherrie and her toddler with a large smile on his face.

Lola just giggled as she chewed on her hand, looking up at him with wide , curious eyes .

Max knelt down in front of her and gently pulled her fingers from her mouth, his face softening as he looked at the mini Cherrie in front of him.

"I can't believe how much she's grown over the summer!" Max exclaimed in slight disbelief .

The last time he had seen her baby she had barely been able to stand up without falling over and now here she was, jumping up and down on the spot as she grinned up at him with chubby cheeks and sweet giggles.

Cherrie laughed a little, stroking her hand over her baby's hair fondly as she looked down at her baby that was slowly growing up .

"I know! I had to go out shopping with her for new clothes cause she doesn't fit the others anymore. I honestly miss her being small.. she was a lot easier to carry then." She muttered honestly before remembering  just who she was casually talking to.

Remembering that max was someone that she was supposed to hate. Not chatting with about her baby having a growth spurt over the summer.

She cleared her throat and tried to shake off the shock and the weird butterflies she felt in her chest as she watched max sit crossed legged on the floor in front of her.

Lola letting go of her hand to do the same as she waved her teddy in Max's face for him to see.

Both of them sat on the floor in a busy paddock while Cherrie just looked down at them in silent disbelief . Wondering if she was still dreaming.

Or hallucinating.

"Teddy bear! He's my favourite. Do you have a teddy bear? I have so many!" Lola rushed out to him excitedly . Not shy in the slightest.

Cherrie supposed her confidence and fearlessness to talking with people she didn't even know came from the fact that all of the other drivers had made sure that she was spoiled and regularly took her out for day trips every since she was born.

She had grown up surrounded by loud , loving drivers and had quickly became the little princess of the paddock.

So she wasn’t shy in the slightest.

Max grinned down at her, eyes softening as he gently took the bear she was shoving in his face and stroked its soft fur.

Admiring the way that Lola had the exact same expressions and pretty eyes as her mother did. Max was glad that she was more like Cherrie instead of her father. She was the cutest two years old he had ever seen in his life.

He could still remember the day he had first met her when Cherrie had come back to the paddock , refusing to take off anymore time at home.

Determined to get back to racing she had walked in with a baby wrapped up in a blanket , little Lola just gargling and squealing at everybody happily.

Max had even gotten to hold her and could remember fondly how he had been so worried about accidentally hurting her or not holding her right until Cherrie had laughed at his worry and told him that it was fine.

She had helped him hold her baby properly , trusting him to look after her while she was busy in an important meeting with her team.

Max supposed it was why it hurt so much to see how one wrong move on the track had made her hate him so much. Because max had always hoped that the two of them could become closer.

Before the accident and before his fuck up, he had been so certain that the two of them were getting along nicely.

She talked to him , laughed at his stupid jokes and even hugged him after each race.

And it may not have meant anything to Cherrie but to max it had meant the whole world.

Because he liked her, well, more than liked her.

Hopelessly in love would be the more correct term.

He had been infatuated with her since they were kids at karting competitions , his crush only growing and growing each year until it had turned into overwhelming love for the hot headed Ferrari driver .

But he knew that to her, he had just been another driver that she had to get along with for the sake of her own reputation.

Her life had been racing and Lola, with no room for anybody else for a long time .

Yet max knew that there was something there between the two of them.

He Had seen the way she used to give him a small wave whenever she saw him in a crowded room. The way she used to flush whenever he congratulated and praised her skills on the track.

He had been certain that he actually stood a chance , until that terrible day on the track when he had sent them both flying off the track at ridiculous speeds .

She hadn't smiled at him since then.

Refusing to even look at him most of the time. Too stubborn and hot headed to forgive him so easily .

But max was determined to make things right and seeing as him just apologising didn't work, he had moved onto plan B.

Gift giving. Giving her random and slightly strange gifts until she forgave him again.

Max gestured over to the brand new troller he had been pushing with a proud grin.

Slowly pushing himself up To his feet again and looking at Cherrie for approval when lola whined at him and lifted her arms up in the air for him to carry her.

Cherrie hesitantly nodded her consent, watching as max carefully lifted her two year old up into his arms with ease. Placing her on his hip and bouncing her a little to make her giggle, tapping the end of her tiny button nose with a fond grin on his face.

"I heard you telling Charles that your old stroller was broken. So I got you a new one. It's foldable and can fit into the boot of your car easily . Plus .. look at this.." he excitedly told her as he easyJet balanced lola on his side and pulled up the small white tray that popped up in front of the stroller .

"It's a little table so she can eat snacks while you're out! It's really light too so it won't make your arms hurt if you have to carry it." He rambled to her happily , grinning at her proudly .

Cherrie wondered if she had gone into shock.

Swallowing thickly as she glanced between max who was now busy tickling a giggling Lola in his arms and the brand new, expensive stroller in front of her.

"You- you bought me a stroller?" She could only repeat in shock. Utterly speechless . Again.

Max just smiled and looked at her calmly , trying not to laugh at the look on her pretty face.

None of her usual bitchness and cold remarks making an appearance this time.

How could she insult him or tell him to fuck off when he had just bought her baby a stroller?

It was impossible to feel anything other than gratitude and pure amazement towards the one man that she had so desperately been trying to convince herself to hate.

"Yeah . You needed one so I got you one." He simply replied before glancing down at the stroller with a slight frown of uneasiness at her lack of reaction.

"Is it- is it okay? I don't know much about strollers obviously but I asked the man selling them which one was the best one for two year olds and he recommended this one. But If not then I can get you another one-" he nervously started to babble.

Even Lola was looking up at him strangely as she pulled his cap off his head and place it onto her own. Making max smile a little in amusement as he watched the cap slip down over her cute face , far too big for her tiny head .

He tilted it back for her so that she could see again, shaking his head fondly at her.

Cherrie exhaled loudly, cheeks flushing In colour as she laughed a little bashfully.

Nodding her head shyly "yes it's perfect. Thank you max . You really didn't have to." She mumbled not knowing what to do with herself or how to speak to him without the usual threats and insults being hurled his way .

Glancing up quietly and taking note of the happiness that spread across his face as he knelt down again and carefully strapped a giggling Lola into the new stroller .

Making sure that it was comfortable for her as he adjusted the straps and gave her little chubby cheeks a gentle kiss before pulling away.

Standing back to his feet as he stood beside Cherrie, hands on his hips as he admired Lola in the stroller he had bought. Filled with happiness that he had gotten the right one and made Cherrie absolutely speechless at the same time .

It was a good feeling knowing that he had done something right for once.

Glancing beside him to her with a gentle smile , he casually asked her “ You want to go get some ice cream? We can test the new stroller out. See if it's street safe." He made up an excuse to continue spending time with her.

Cherrie couldn't say no. How could she ever say no to him again when he was doing sweet things like this for her after she had been nothing but a bitch to him lately?

Simply nodding her head yes and watching in silent disbelief as max took ahold of the handles and begun to push Lola In the stroller proudly . Making silly faces down to her to make her laugh.

Cherrie hesitatingly walking beside him, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she glanced up at a smiling Max in consideration .

Swallowing deeply as she felt the familiar butterflies swarm her chest. Pursing her lips to herself as she tore her eyes away from his face, instead catching the knowing glances from both Charles and Daniel as they both childishly held up their hands in the shape of hearts at her.

Daniel mimicking kissing in the air in front of him as he laughed loudly at the look on her face , nodding pointedly to max beside her who was too busy making Lola laugh to notice them winding her up .

She flushed darkly and quickly looked away from them.

It's getting a little harder to hate him. She thought to herself a little defeatedly.

Wondering what the hell was happening to her and not understanding why she suddenly felt so happy and content walking beside someone who she had convinced herself to hate.

Cherrie realised that max liked her a month later when they were both hanging around near the track after completing another qualifying session. Both of them waiting for their teams to tell them what to do and where to go next.

Cherrie was leaning against the wall boredly with her arms crossed over her chest , race suit hanging loosely around her waist as she watched people run around like headless chickens. Keeping to herself as she fanned her face with her hand, the sun blaring down on them hotly .

She felt someone come up beside her quietly before clearing their throat to get her attention.

Fighting back a long sigh when she came face to face with max who was stood a little awkwardly beside her with his hands on his hips, clearly searching for something to say to her.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he nervously looked up at the bright blue sky and blurted out

"It's pretty hot isn't?" Almost cringing to himself at how out of everything he could have said , he had chosen weather as a conversation starter.

Cherrie glanced at the sun with a slight frown "er- yeah. We're in Spain so.." she gave a little confused laugh , side eyeing a awkward looking max in amusement  . "It's always hot here."

He pursed his lips, face colouring as he nodded his head along in agreement. Feeling like an idiot.

"Yeah. Yeah.. you're right . Would've been nice to have a breeze though. It's too hot to be comfortable." He rambled on unable to stop himself from talking about the weather now that he had started .

His heart racing nervously in his chest as he ignored Daniel who was shaking his head at him while giggling in amusement  a little further down, clearly listening in on his pathetic attempt to get Cherrie to talk to him .

Daniel had advised him to just be himself.

But how was that supposed to help him when being himself made him into a flustered, awkward mess?

Cherrie nodded along slowly , not wanting to embarrass him anymore than he already was.

She decided to give him a chance , humming a long a little as she fidgeted with the sleeves of the racing suit that was tied around her lower waist .

"Mmm. I've got a nice big fan back at the hotel though. So it's not too bad." She replied quietly , glancing at his sunburned cheeks and smiling subtly to herself at how cute he looked fumbling beside her for something to say to carry on the odd conversation. Not wanting to leave her side.

Max tilted his head, a minute passing by uncomfortably before he finally spoke up again.

"I er- I got you something but it's back at my hotel room." He mumbled a little shyly , glancing away from her. Unable to hold eye contact for long .

Her eyes seemed even lighter and sharper in the sunlight , sometimes it was like she was too beautiful for him to look at .

Her beauty was intimidating and max felt like a absolute idiot stood next to her. Sweating like a pig and no doubt resembling a lobster after forgetting to pack sunscreen before they arrived .

Cherrie looked over at him in surprise "what did you get me? I already told you that you don't need to buy me anything max.." she trailed off . A little curious and excited to see what he had gotten her this time despite herself.

Because max had been giving her the strangest and most random of things lately.

Last weekend he had gotten her a giant glass bottle filled with rock candy after he saw her eating it while at w yacht party with the rest of the drivers. Hearing her convince Charles to try it too, telling him that it was her favourited candy to eat but that she barely was able to find it unless she went to the beach.

She had returned home the next day to find a bottle filled with the candy. A never ending amount and small note from max that simply read.

'So you don't run out!' Alongside a smaller tub of haribos for Lola to eat too .

After she had told him that her two year old like to wear the ring sweets like jewellery in each of her tiny fingers , chomping on them whenever they were out.

Cherrie couldn't believe how intentive he was towards her and her baby. Considering she had spent months being horrible to him, he sure did know a lot about her .

It was sweet.

Max just smiled at her , shrugging his shoulders a little shyly . "It's nothing much. Just some makeup I saw at the airport . The woman on the front of the packet had eyes like yours and I thought that the makeup would make your eyes look even prettier. It was sparkly I think.." he awkwardly explained to her.

Cherrie blinked at him, before deciding to mess with him a Little .

Frowning at him as though she was offended "are you saying that I need makeup because I'm ugly without it?" She gasped at him. Trying not to laugh at the way max immediately paled and looked back at her with wide eyes.

Rapidly shaking his head no "no!no! You're beautiful, always! You don't need makeup . You're the most beautiful woman in the world and you don't need anything to make you look better because you're already a hundred on a scale of ten and-" he rambled on nervously , flapping his hands about in the air like a nervous bird .

Only to freeze in mid panicked ramble when Cherrie suddenly burst out into loud laughter , shaking her head at him in pure amusement .

"You looked so scared! Oh my god! Am I really that scary?" She gasped out between giggles , grinning at him mischievously.

Max placed his hands on his hips and gave her a disapproving sigh. Smiling despite the way his heart was racing in his chest at the thought of upsetting her.

"You're very scary when you want to be.." he admitted to her , chuckling a little.

Scratching at the back of his neck bashfully as he peered over at her shyly. "But - you're not mad right?"

Cherrie just smiled and wrapped her arm around his shoulder , pulling him into a brief side hug without even thinking about her actions . Just doing what felt right for a change.

Missing the way Max's eyes widened and his skin flushed red as he hesitantly hugged her back.

Daniel giving him a pleased thumbs up as he watched them from afar like a proud dad watching his kid ask some girl to the dance .

"Kiss her!" He mouthed at him with a teasing grin.

Max pulled a face back at him, quickly looking away with a nervous chuckle.

Glancing down at a smiling Cherrie with butterflies rapidly filling his stomach .

"Hey Cherrie?" He took a deep breath to gather all of his confidence and asked her quietly "you want to get dinner tonight?" Preparing himself for brutal rejection like usual .

Expecting her to scoff at him meanly and tell him to fuck off.

Only to be more than surprised when she simply sighed in defeat and nodded her head yes. Looking like she had come to a understanding with herself , slowly relaxing against him.

She stopped trying to pretend that she hated him. And she finally let her petty anger go and gave him a chance .

"Sure. But I'm paying this time! You've bought me enough." She told him seriously , smiling up at him fondly when he went quiet for a little too long.

Shock written all across his blushing face as he tried not to fist bump the air like a little kid.

"Awesome. Cool. Great. That's - that's really amazing-" he breathed out giddily , smiling at her like a love struck idiot.

Cherrie just laughed and patted his shoulder before finally pulling away.

Giving him a playful look and a teasing wink "I'll see you at seven then!" She told him before casually walking away.

Leaving max to stand there with his mouth gaping open in disbelief , heart hammering in his chest.

"I'm gonna buy her a ring next." He blurted out to a proud looking Daniel who happily patted him on his back and congratulated him on finally making a move.

A awkward and slightly odd move, but a move none the less .

After they started dating Cherrie had assumed that Max's gifts would stop now that he didn't have to keep gift giving to her out of guilt anymore .

Having told him many times over their dating time that she no longer held a grudge against him, that she forgave him a long time ago.

But the gifts never stopped .

Every month without a doubt she could guarantee that max would be casually presenting her with a new surprise each time.

When she had asked him why he kept doing it , telling him that he don't need to impress her anymore, that she was already dating him and loved him without the fancy gifts .

He had merely shook his head and told her like it was obvious "you don't stop putting effort into the person you love just because things are official. I wanna keep impressing you and surprising  you forever . You're special to me and I  always want to make sure that you know that."

"And I'm not so good with words but I think I'm an excellent gift giver. So each gift that I give you is my way of saying 'I love you' . Always." He had simply told her.

Cherrie had stopped telling him not to spend his money on her after that.

Instead she let herself get excited and looked forward  to each month that came by , her and Lola wondering what he had gotten them this time.

Because max , as it turned out, was the best gift giver in the world.

In January he got Lola a miniature version of a Lamborghini.

Laughing hysterically to himself when he took her around their neighbourhood in it, proudly videoing the toddler zooming around the corners like a pro.

“She’s gonna be the next world champion! We need to get her into karting as soon as we can!” Max had exclaimed giddily to her , shouting his praise to the giggling toddler who was whipping around the corner like a nascar driver .

The love for the little girl so obviously written across his face , even having a few tears in his eyes when she asked him with big hopeful eyes if she could drive for redbull just like he did when she was older.

Cherrie had watched max choke on his own tears of happiness as he took her daughter into his arms like she was his own, proudly telling her that she could be whatever she wanted to, that he would be proud of her no matter what.

Cherrie had fell even deeper in love with him that day. That was the day that they became a family.

In February he got them a bright orange kitten with more fur than face.

Lola had cried happy tears as she sobbed into Max's chest and screamed over and over again that she was going to  love him forever for this. Max had cried too. Because of course he did.

And Cherrie would never admit it to anyone but there were tears in her own eyes as she witnessed the growing bond been her toddler and max only grow stronger by the day . Easily stepping up into the role of her father without them even needing to talk about it.

Lola loved max and max loved Lola. It was as simple and as easy as that.

In March he got them a two week trip to Hawaii with all their friends .

In April he bought her a bright red and black Ferrari to match his own after seeing how much she loved his car , complaining that it made her Jaguar look boring .

Leaving it in her drive way with a giant gold bow wrapped around it.

Cherrie had given him the best sex of his life that night. And max proudly  became her passenger princess too.

In may, on her birthday . Max had presented them with a lease and keys to a new house in Monaco.

Proudly showing her the garden where he had a playground already built in for Lola, a large swimming pool inside and out. Telling her with a smile that he wanted them to live together and be a proper family . That he wanted to wake up beside her for the rest of his life.

He wanted her late nights and early mornings. He wanted to be there to make Lola breakfast before nursery. He wanted to be there for every moment, telling her seriously that he didn’t want to miss a thing

Cherrie and Lola had moved in the very next day.

In June max bought her a giant , realistic statues of all the animals that they had seen in the zoo.

Making them a pretend zoo in their garden after Lola had told him that she wanted her own pretend zoo too.

Now the first thing that Cherrie saw when she walked to the bottom of their garden was a realistic giraffe towering over her and a giant gorilla and lion statue hidden behind the trees too.

Max likes to conveniently forgot to tell their friends they had the overly realistic statues in their garden, enjoying watching them scream when they hung out around the pool, laughing hysterically while they screamed in fear as they spotted a lion out of the corner of their eyes.

In July max bought her a sauna after watching her wince with pain in her back, having read that a sauna would help with her sore muscles , he had one fitted into their home while she was at her mothers for the weekend.

Max had sex in a sauna for the first time in his life when she came home and jumped him the moment she saw the sauna with her name engraved onto the door prettily .

Best money he had ever spent in his opinion.

In august he bought Lola a stable and a white horse after she had told him that she wanted one of her own.

In September max bought Cherrie a fancy motorhome so that they could travel around from state to state during the holidays together.

In October max bought her a pregnancy test after watching her throw up for the third time in two days.

The test was positive and max had cried like he had never cried before. Holding onto Cherrie and Lola in his arms tightly and promising them that he loved them both more than life itself . That he was going to be the father that he had always wanted. Determined not to be like his own father .

He was proudly breaking the generational cycle of trauma.

In November max bought everything a baby could possibly need. They spent all weekend building baby furniture and painting the nursery with a Mural of both of their racing cars. A Ferrari and redbull side by side .

And in December Cherrie finally bought him something of her own.

She gave him a ring and got down on one knee on Christmas morning and asked max to marry her, laughing affectionately when max immediately burst into tears and swooped himself into her arms , pulling little Lola into their family embrace too.

He said yes.

[zabiume]

mountains and molehills | ao3

Kazui comes home for the summer, and then spends most of it on the couch with his face buried in the pillow. The news says it's the hottest summer they’ve had in years, but the news is always saying that and Kazui is anxious. 

“Honey,” his mother calls over her shoulder, “Have you seen my phone?” 

“Check the couch!” his father calls back from somewhere within the depths of their apartment. 

Kazui hears his mother approach, and then she’s jostling him around, checking between cushions. “I don’t see—” she raises her voice, but then her fingers catch on something, so she amends it with, “Found it!” When Kazui cracks an eye open, he sees her pushing her phone into her work bag and then sliding a strap over her shoulder. “Okay, I’m off to work.” She leans down and kisses Kazui on the head. “Make sure you eat, okay? I’ll be back by 7.” 

Kazui makes a noise of acknowledgement. His mother calls a goodbye to his father and then leaves. At noon, his father will come out of his office (which is what they call the guest-room when guests are here, and the store-room when they need something to store), and make lunch. They’ll eat. They’ll kill time until 7, after which Dad will pick Mom up from the bakery and they’ll eat dinner. Mom will probably put on a show, and Kazui will probably talk over it the whole time and Dad will probably shush them both because he’s reading on his e-reader that Mom got him for his birthday a few years ago. He could leave the room, but he won’t. He never does.

He could do so many things, but he doesn’t. He never does. 

When Kazui was little — little enough for a piggyback ride — his dad would take him on patrol sometimes, the only time that Kazui got a glimpse of this whole other world his dad belonged to. Most days, Kurosaki Ichigo was the guy who tied his laces, and helped him do his homework and hugged him when he was sad or scared. But every so often they’d run into a shinigami and his father — only mere moments ago his father — would become the thing of fables, a living legend. He never gave autographs, and hated selfies on principle unless Kazui’s mom was taking one, but the bottom line was that, in a whole other world, his dad was kind of famous. 

You can never tell it just by looking at him. Not in the form where he wears shorts and flip-flops and reading glasses at least. In that form, he does things like grocery shopping and fixing the bidet and he always looks content, present. Kazui often hears other kids talk about their dads—their unfulfilled baseball careers that they traded for desk jobs, their marriages that are teetering towards divorces, the drama of their lives that make his own parents' lives look relatively plain. Kazui loves them to death, but they’re so normal, with their normal jobs and their simple marriage. The most romantic thing he remembers his dad ever doing is taking his mom out to lunch on a work day every now and then — a far cry from grand anniversaries and moonlit confessions. 

Kazui wonders if there's some secret sadness, some interiority that his father is hiding where one day he'll declare he's taking a long vacation to Yokohama and never coming back and everyone will say they never saw it coming. 

(Once he even asked his parents if they ever had a time where they considered splitting up, and they just looked surprised. 

"We can't afford a divorce even if we wanted one, so everyone better get along," his dad said eventually, and his mom rolled her eyes in that fond, chastising way she did whenever Dad made a joke in that dry, sarcastic tone). 

Kazui can’t relate to that contentment. Kazui is restless. Nineteen years of existence and he still hasn’t found a purpose, a drive, a push to live up to his name and his legacy. Somehow, it seems like every big thing that had to happen has already happened. All he has to do is live with the consequences. 

Once, when Ichika visited him at college, she asked, “Literally what do you do all day,” inspecting his dorm with vacant, skeptical curiosity. 

“I do things!” Kazui protested in response, not wanting her to know the exact depth with which she’d cut into his deepest insecurities. 

Sometimes Kazui envies the structure in Ichika’s life, envies the fact that she has something to work towards. Most days, his zanpakuto won't even talk to him, haughty that he doesn't have all the answers yet. More than anything, he's terrified that in some way, somehow, he'll look back at the life he lived — this ephemeral life — and be ashamed of how little he made of it. 

At noon, Dad comes out and asks him to help wash the vegetables. Standing together, side by side, Kazui can’t help but stare at his dad’s clean hands, unscarred — no doubt thanks to his mom. Can a history be forgotten so easily?

“You’re quiet today,” Ichigo remarks, his hands slicing the radishes down unevenly across the cutting board. It’s the kind of imprecision that would grate his mother’s nerves — perhaps the only thing they argue about frequently within Kazui’s earshot. 

“Yeah,” Kazui says sheepishly, his throat tight. He has no reason to cry, but for a sudden, embarrassing moment, he thinks he just might. 

Ichigo pats his shoulder and moves past Kazui towards the condiment section. “Something you wanna talk about?” he calls over his shoulder. 

Kazui bites his lip. Then, "Do you have any regrets, Dad?" 

"Regrets?" Ichigo echoes, looking confused when he returns to the counter. "Like…?"

"The big ones, y'know. Ones that keep you up at night." 

"Something's been keeping you up at night?" 

Kazui winces because his dad sounds like he wants to kill it. Sheesh. 

"Daaad," Kazui whines. "Can we not focus on me now? I really don't want to focus on me."

Ichigo chuckles. "Alright. So, regrets. Elaborate."

Use your words, Kazui remembers his parents saying, when he was young and struggling with a tantrum. He hasn't always been an easy kid. He knows he's the reason why his parents never had another one. 

"You're so...normal," Kazui croaks and then frowns, glancing at his father for a reaction to his words.

To his surprise, Ichigo just looks amused as he sprinkles salt over the vegetables. "That's not a good thing?"

"No, it is, I mean. You know what I mean. You're just.” Kazui takes a breath. “Give me a moment?"

"Hm." Under the slanting light of their kitchen, his dad looks content to just wait, biding time as he stuffs everything into the cooker. Not for the first time, his infinite patience makes Kazui feel a lot smaller than he is. A lot younger. 

"I guess I just want to know if you're happy," Kazui admits at last, embarrassingly feeble.  "W-with us."

"I'm happy, Kazui," Ichigo says calmly – not strongly, not insistently, not even with a sharp, defensive edge. He says it with the quiet, resounding clarity of the truth. When he looks over at Kazui, his eyes are kind. The understanding in them makes Kazui feel embarrassed, but a secret part of him feels relieved for having had the courage to ask.

He pretends to wipe a line of lint off the granite. "Were you ever tempted to go there? To be a part of them, I mean." 

"I am a part of them," Ichigo says thoughtfully, "or at least, they are a part of me. But they're just that, y'know. A part."

"An important one."

"Sure."

"But not - not the important one–?"

"Kazui," Ichigo says gently, and Kazui stops. "I'm not going to leave you, I promise."

"It's not that!" His father looks unconvinced. "I swear, it's not, I — don't you ever feel like you should be doing something else?!" Kazui blurts, and as he’s saying it he knows he’s projecting, but he can't stop. "Something bigger?!” 

Ichigo grows quiet. For some small, irrational reason, Kazui feels afraid that his own unraveling would somehow trigger his dad’s, which is utterly ridiculous the more he thinks about it. Ichigo has been alive a lot longer than he has; Kazui’s sure the thought must have come up at one time or another. 

"I did all that,” Ichigo says slowly, “And then I came home."

Kazui slumps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Something more profound, perhaps. Something his father had learned that only he could have learned through the wisdom of experience. 

"Easy as that?" he asks, a little glumly. 

Ichigo shakes his head. "Nothing about this life ever came easy. We had to choose it. We knew the risks, your mother and I, but we chose it anyway and hoped to hell our hearts would be strong enough to carry us through."

"And you think it paid off?"

Ichigo looks at Kazui, his gaze warm, filled with pride and love and affection. "I'd say it did."

Kazui is embarrassed. "Dad." 

Ichigo reaches out and ruffles his hair, content to rest his wrist on Kazui's shoulder. "What's all this about anyway? What’s gotten into you?” 

"I don't know," Kazui mumbles, a little bit of that earlier anxiety creeping in, making his throat hurt with all the feelings he was swallowing. "Existential angst?" 

Ichigo chuckles humorlessly, like he could relate. "Yeah." 

"How do you even deal with something like that?" 

"I don't want to tell you life is short—" 

Kazui snorts. 

"— but it is." Ichigo looks at him and smiles. "You don’t know how long you’re going to be here, or how soon it’ll take away the thing you thought you’d have forever.” Kazui averts his gaze. Dad never talks about Grandma often, but when he does it's always so wistful — so accepting. 

"Forever isn't always a good thing, you know. There's guys in Soul Society who've lived so long…" Ichigo trails off. "You lose perspective. You lose sight of things that matter."

“Yeah,” Kazui mumbles. 

“Death, after. Those things will come with time. There’s no need to rush to them just yet.” Ichigo smacks Kazui’s head lightly, making Kazui laugh a little. Then, “There was this thing my dad told me once.” 

“Grandpa?” Kazui asks incredulously. “Like—goofy, silly…”

“Yeah, that guy.” Ichigo snorts. “He told me once that the only thing he wanted for me was to live well, age well and bald well. And when I died, he wanted me to die smiling.” 

Kazui absorbs that information. “You listened to him?” 

Ichigo scoffs. “Heck, no. I threw myself into all the shit I could — you know that.” 

Kazui laughs. “Yeah.”

“But I turned out okay,” Ichigo says firmly. “And you will, too.” When his fingers land against Kazui’s cheek, they’re gentle, grounding. “You’re a good kid. Don’t sweat the little stuff so much.” 

Kazui smiles and accepts his dad’s hug, burying his head in his shoulder.  

Later, after his mother comes home from work, they eat leftovers from lunch and dress down to their pajamas. Mom puts on a variety show and Kazui squeezes himself onto the loveseat with her, his legs in her lap. On screen, the host bullies the contestants into answering some way-too-personal questions to the joy of a bloodthirsty audience. 

“Is that the guy—” Mom snaps her fingers. 

“The pilot from Good Luck?” Kazui prompts. “Yeah, I thought so too for a second. It’s the sideburns.” 

Orihime gasps. “You’re right!” She turns her gaze to Kazui and gives his ankle a loving squeeze. “Clever boy.” 

Kazui beams. 

“Can’t you guys keep it down?” Ichigo grumbles without looking up from his e-reader. "I'm trying to read."

He could go inside, but he doesn’t. He never does. Kazui is finally starting to kind of get it. 

[collectivecloseness]

37) I thought you didn’t love me anymore with kurt where you've just not been in the best mood lately

Kurt definitely feels rejected easily (so does Steve, although I think they handle slightly neglectful parents in... different ways)

Prompt: 37) I thought you didn’t love me anymore

Kurt Kunkle x reader

How had your day been so shitty?

Your phone ran out of battery so you had no alarm, with Kurt not needing one that early. And then Kurt was clinging to you so much this morning, looking all rejected and like a kicked puppy because he woke up and you wouldn’t cuddle with him for even two minutes. Then your car wouldn’t start so you had to decide between booking a spree, or seeing if Kurt was ready to drive you to work in his sweatpants, and literally them alone. Work was just a mess, as usual. And you didn’t even get to eat lunch because you had to catch up on so many things that you wouldn’t have been able to even call Kurt to bring you something, like you did most busy days, or when you just wanted to see him. And then, the heel of your shoe split. So for about three hours you were walking around work with the slapping sound of your shoe accompanying you every single step.

You didn’t ask Kurt to pick you up, because a few days of the week you’d carpool back with some work friends who lived close. Even if Kurt swore he didn’t mind (and that he’d love to pick you up every day) you knew it was better for the environment, and Kurt wouldn’t have to deny clients, and you wouldn’t have to wait for him, and it gave you time to bitch with your colleagues away from bosses ears; it was just a good system.

At least that had gone smoothly. Although you didn’t feel like talking much during the ride. Not even about how your boss had been riding your ass one one of your more infuriating days you could remember in recent history. You wanted to pull your hair out.

But eventually your friends car stopped outside your home, and you waved a tired goodbye to everyone, noisily walking down to your front door. Dropping your keys on the floor.

Great. Just another beautiful addition to the day.

If you hadn’t been zoning out for your own sanity, you would’ve heard the commotion behind your front door.

As soon as you stepped into your home, you had your 5’11 boyfriend eagerly running at you, and a camera right in your face. It literally hit your nose, because Kurt slipped a little.

“Yes! Oh guys. And here we have my beautiful partner- oop- sorry babe.” Kurt tried to brush your nose, in his excitement of filming, kind of just hitting your face.

You only blinked in a small stupor. You were so out of it you didn’t even know if Kurt was livestreaming you, or just filming. God you hoped it wasn’t the first.

“And- yeah- today-!” Kurt placed his arm around your shoulder, and held the camera up at both of you. So you could see your face in the other screen, looking subdued and done, compared to Kurts cool and excited smile, energy always radiating off him. It wasn’t transferrable through touch it seemed.

“Today we’re pranking y/n! Aha, totally kidding babe! Bu-Although, I guess one- you could say that, that’s a prank in itself!” Kurt made a kind of thinking/mind blown gesture to his camera. Having spoken too quickly, his first sentence about pranking you hadn’t even sunk in.

At least you could tell he was only recording now. He used this camera for hand held pre-recording, he said he preferred it for editing with his computer. Your boyfriend had a lot of cameras. You swear you’d end up finding some secretly recording you two, maybe for ‘a year in my life’ or something.

You took a deep breath. Kurt was high energy. That wasn’t a downfall of him, you were just pissy today. You couldn’t ruin his fun. “Hey Kurt?” You gently placed your hand over his arm, Kurt finally looking at you, versus just looking at the camera, or at the image of you on there, which you hated when he was talking to you. You lowered his arm smoothly, getting his big brown eyes on you. “I’m very glad you’re not pranking me. But you think your avid followers could wait an extra day for an upload? Or could you at least go into another room?”

You were either going to binge on the couch, sleep in your bed, masturbate furiously, or have a bath, and you didn’t really want Kurt accidentally recording either of those things.

Luckily, to Kurts testament, and probably from being used to dealing with you, he switched off the camera straight away. Or maybe he knew it just wouldn’t make good content. He finally turned to you, his face significantly more downtrodden than before you’d walked in the door, which only made your chest feel heavier.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, seeming much more like himself now. Which you did prefer. You thought about kissing him on the cheek, but you were too tired, and in a split second decision you moved over to the couch, brushing your hand over his arm instead. “It’s just too much, today.”

“Well- what’s too much?” Kurt asked, still standing there, dumbly looking down at you.

“The fucking camera, Kurt.” You quickly but not harshly got out, only swearing after a long day, not at him. Rubbing your face in your hands, which meant Kurt didn’t get a chance to see what you were thinking much more than that.

When you did peek through your fingers, sliding your hands down your face, you saw your boyfriend still standing there. Lips pursed, all twisted up, and breathing a little heavily. He looked like he didn’t know what to think. Although when Kurt started to feel just that less open, you found it much harder to tell what he was thinking.

But Kurt’s heavy breathing was getting to you. Just like the sound your shoe had been making all day. Just like the way he was staring at you, looking so... fuck, you didn’t know what! And like how every little thing had been getting to you all day. And now your heart was loud in your ears and you couldn’t stop feeling sweaty and Kurt was still just looking at you and-

“Kurt if you have something to say just say it!”

That felt good for about two seconds. Some sort of release. But then it felt awful.

When you looked back up to Kurt you knew your eyes would’ve been sharp, and Kurt’s face shifted. He looked stoney faced again, like he did when he was really not letting anything slip by, and without saying a word, Kurt stormed to his room, shutting the door behind him.

You sighed loudly, it slipping into a groan as you threw your head back against the sofa cushion, whining.

He probably knew to just give you some space.

After about ten minutes of having the tv on loud enough to block out any of your own thoughts, but not to overstimulate you further, you felt better. Calmer. And you felt bad for snapping at Kurt.

You decided now was probably the right time to go and apologise, maybe get a snuggle in with him on the bed, if he wasn’t mad at you.

You switched the tv off and started walking towards your shared bedroom. You remembered that stoney look on his face and you knew what it was. You knew he bottled up his emotions sometimes. So with a sigh, you went down the hallway towards your room.

...Panicking, when you heard the sounds coming from it. You opened your door wide, and saw Kurt bundled under the sheets, facing your door, crying.

The bottle had spilled.

Kurt was looking up at you with drowned brown and red eyes, hurt clear in them. He’d tried to bury of much of himself under the blankets as possible, with his head still poking out, hair a mess. And his sleeves and collar were wet with tears and snot, wrecked cries coming from his heaving chest.

“Kurt!! Honey!” You ran over to him, squatting down by his side and placing your hand on top of his that was gripping the quilt, Kurt still sniffing at you, crying.

“I- I thought... maybe you didn’t love me anymore.”

Shock overtook your face. Gripping his hand in yours, your other hand pushing back the quilt just a little so you could stroke through his hair. “No baby! Never.”

You two didn’t have many real arguments, and it was tearing Kurt up.

Kurt sniffled, little hiccups going through him. “I know I can be annoying, I’m sorry.”

“No.” You stood very firmly on this. Kneeling on the ground instead so you were more steady, your hand holding his cheek, and shaking his held hand with your certainty. “No you’re not annoying. I promise you Kurt, don’t say that.”

Kurts cries were quieter, but tears still slipped past his face. Past his nose, and cheeks, and down his pouting lips. “I know I can be too much for you.”

“No, Kurt baby, I love your energy. Your enthusiasm for the world.” You stroked his cheek, squeezing his hand so he knew you were still there, even if his eyes were set on you. “I love that about you, I love it so much. I’ve never thought you were too much, never.”

Kurts fingers moved a little to be able to tap at your wrist, his lips screwing up like a fresh wave of tears were about to overtake him. But quickly breathing when you mimicked a big breath, getting him to breathe with you, which he did. Letting a shaky blow of air out, before continuing. Voice still a bit wobbly, but flipping his hand up so he could hold yours now.

“Because you left without letting me hold you this morning too.” Kurt whined. “A-And, and you got a Spree that wasn’t mine. And you never even called me all day.”

It was like Kurt had been waiting for you to get home, and you didn’t even want to see him!

Kurts words were almost breaking, but definitely warming your heart. You felt bad all these little things today had been adding up for him as well, but at the same time the way he whined, the way he just wanted to hold you. “Kurt, baby, you were so tired this morning, I didn’t want you to crash.” You smiled gently, cupping his face between both your hands, which you could tell Kurt loved.

You leaned up to kiss him, even if his lips were all salty, and when you came back down Kurt had stopped sniffling, stopped whining, stopped crying. Finally calm after you reassured him, after you held him. Still looking at you though, with those big wet eyes.

“I promise you Kurt, I’ll let you cuddle me as much as you want from now on. Because I love you.”

Kurt tackled you with a hug. His front half bursting out of the bed, and clinging his arms around you anywhere he could get. His warm cheeks pressed to the top of your head as you caught him, in a hug you eagerly returned.

At this point, it was just easier to fall. So you let Kurt slip out the bed, holding his lower back carefully, as you helped him ‘fall’ on top of you, bringing your own back down to your bedroom floor, and letting your boyfriend lay his full weight on top of you. And by the happy murmuring’s right in your ear, you could tell it was a decision Kurt enjoyed.

You giggled, hugging his waist back tightly, as your other arm held his shoulders, your hand moving up, and stroking through his brown hair, massaging your poor boyfriends head. Who lay a wet kiss on your shoulder, in thanks.

“I’m sorry I was a grumpy pants, I love you Kurt.” You kissed his flamed cheek, hugging your soft boyfriend close. “Never forget it.”

[autumncottageattic]

Favourite quotes from Bridget Jones's Diary (1996) & Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (1999), just finished re-reading them😄

It struck me as pretty ridiculous to be called Mr Darcy and to stand on your own looking snooty at a party. It's like being called Heathcliff and insisting on spending the entire evening in the garden, shouting 'Cathy' and banging your head against a tree

He turned round, revealing that what had seemed from the back like a harmless navy sweater was actually a V-neck diamond-pattern in shades of yellow and blue — as favoured by the more elderly of the nation's sports reporters. As my friend Tom often remarks, it's amazing how much time and money can be saved in the world of dating by close attention to detail. A white sock here, a pair of red braces there, a grey slip-on shoe, a swastika, are as often as not all one needs to tell you there's no point writing down

Suddenly I realize I am waiting for the phone again. How can it be that the situation between the sexes after a first night remains so agonizingly imbalanced? Feel as if I have just sat an exam and must wait for my results.

Can officially confirm that the way to a man s heart these days is not through beauty, food, sex, or alluringness of character, but merely the ability to seem not very interested in him.

You should make the most of being single while it lasts, Bridge,' she said. 'Once you've got kids and you've given up your job you're in an incredibly vulnerable position. I know Jeremy thinks my life is just one big holiday, but basically it's extremely hard work looking after a toddler and a baby all day, and it doesn't stop. When Jeremy comes home at the end of the day he wants to put his feet up and be nurtured and, as I imagine all the time now, fantasize about girls in leotards at the Harbour Club.

'I had a proper job before. I know for a fact it's much more fan going out to work, getting all dressed up, flirting in the office and having nice lunches than going to the bloody supermarket and picking Harry up from playgroup. But there's always this aggrieved air that I'm some sort of ghastly Harvey Nichols-obsessed lady who lunches while he earns all the money.'

She's so beautiful, Magda. I watched her toying with her champagne glass despondently and wondered what the answer is for we girls. Talk about grass is always bloody greener. The number of times I've slumped, depressed, thinking how useless I am and that I spend every Saturday night getting blind drunk and moaning to Jude and Shazzer or Tom about not having a boyfriend; I struggle to make ends meet and am ridiculed as an unmarried freak, whereas Magda lives in a big house with eight different kinds of pasta in jars, and gets to go shopping all day. And yet here she is so beaten, miserable and unconfident and telling me I'm lucky . . 

Going out to meet Tom for tea. Decided needed to spend more time on appearance like Hollywood stars and have therefore spent ages putting concealer under eyes, blusher on cheeks and defining fading features.

'Good God,' said Tom when I arrived.

'What?' I said. 'What?'

"Your face. You look like Barbara Cartland.'

Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (1999)

Jude had been to the gym where she ended up reading some article calling single girls over thirty 're-treads'. "The guy was arguing that the sort of girls who

 - wouldn't go out with him in their twenties would go out with him now but he didn't want them any more," she said sadly. "He said they were all obsessed with settling down and babies and his rule with girls now was "Nothing over twenty-five".

Whole dating world is like hideous game of bluff and double bluff with men and women firing at each other from opposite lines of sandbags. Is as if there is a set of rules that you are supposed to be sticking to, but no one knows what they are so everyone just makes up their own. Then you end up getting chucked because you didn't follow the rules correctly, but how could you be expected to, when you didn't know what they were in the first place?

"It's very hard for young people now," Elaine interrupted again, looking hard at me. "One can marry anyone when one is eighteen. But when one's character is formed, taking on the reality of a man must seem insufferable. Present company excepted of course."

All friendships between men and women are based on the sexual dynamic. The mistake people make is ignoring this, then getting upset when their friend doesn't shag them."

  "I'm not getting upset," muttered Shazzer.

  "What about friends when neither fancies the other?" said Jude.

  "Doesn't happen. Sex is what drives it. 'Friends' is a bad definition."

"It's not me it's a social trend," I said indignantly. "Women are staying single because they can support themselves and want to do their careers, then when they get older all the men think they're desperate re-treads with sell-by dates and just want someone younger."

  "Honestly, darling. Sell-by dates! Anyone would think you were a tub of cottage cheese in ASDA! All that sillydaft nonsense is just in films, darling."

"No, it's not."

  "Durrr! Sell-by date. They might pretend they want one of these bimbas but they don't really. They want a nice friend. What about Roger what's-his-name that left Audrey for his secretary? Of course she was thick. Six months later he was begging Audrey to come back and she wouldn't have him!"

[sllowshow]

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 Jacob like kaleb's jacob

in a lot of ways he is kalebs jacob isnt he.

but first he was kristi's (soleil moon frye fc) jacob. it was just them against the world. it was the late eighties in new york, where she'd been living on her own since her eighteenth birthday, when she left her mother's house in florida for the last time. she hooked up with a guy who was there on business, didn't get any contact information, then never saw him again. so jacob was her's and her's alone, even when she couldn't always be his. that relationship really moved in cycles: she'd be the mom he loved, who'd take him out to pizza and museums on free admission weekends, and play air guitar to their favorite songs in the kitchen, and then she'd drop him with a neighbor for a couple days while she was "visiting family" he never got to see. she'd have boyfriends he loved, who'd play n64 with him and take interest in the long winded stories he assigned to his toys, and then ones who could barely stand to look at him - and ones he preferred wouldn't, because it was better to be ignored than picked on. but probably most impactful was her rotating sobriety. she'd get back on the wagon, and really make an effort to turn their shit around, then it would all fall apart when she got dumped, or the right friend called her over for the night. something he'd thought innocuous in his 2nd grader writer's notebook led to a teacher making a report, and from that point on, he bounced around foster homes until he aged out.

his mother wasn't out of his life for those years. they started with weekly visits, then monthly, until they became pretty sporadic. by the time he was a teenager, he was seeing her a handful of times a year. and that continued to kind of be their pattern: facebook friends, met up around christmas, probably went out for dinner or something. it was their routine until he was like 29/30 and she passed away. she hadn't been herself the last few times he saw her, but it was still sudden. more than sad or mad or anything like that, thinking about it just makes him feel weird. he'll always feel like he's waiting for her phone call, like she's missing the milestones in his life on purpose again.

he does stay in touch with various members of foster families he lived in over the years. the ones who were closest to parents to him were the kirbys (clancy brown & angela bassett fcs). they were empty nesters, their youngest son was about ten years his senior, but you could still feel all three of their kids in the townhome they lived in. their relationship wasn't excellent by any means. jacob had been long passed around by the time he lived with them when he was like 15/16 and was just blossoming in to the pervert we all know and love. so he was like sneaking out with his little girlfriends and hanging places he had no business being. and the kirbys were hard on him they were not having him do that shit. but they also folded him into their lives. like they were the family that gave him the healthiest structure while also like giving him family normalcy and routine. like yeah he would moan to his friends about having to spend his saturday mornings at the library with his old ass foster parents because he got caught in the park past curfew with his bad ass friends. but it was actually kind of refreshing.

he'll see a movie every now and again with mr. kirby, go to lunch with mrs. kirby. he isn't at family christmas or anything but they take him to dinner for his birthday ^^

[monstersfear]

fade into the dark // rio & emilio

TIMING: a few months ago PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @monstersfearr SUMMARY: rio comes to visit ari at work but meets her boss instead. CONTENT: none

Now that Orion also had a job, he realized he had to find something to do with his lunch. Eating was the obvious answer, for many reasons. But since running and grabbing food took no more than ten minutes of his time, Rio found himself suddenly free and with time to kill. He didn’t really want to go back and sit at his desk and play on his phone for almost an hour, and he definitely didn’t want to drive all the way back to the farm. He chose the best option, to drop in and see if Ari was working to see if she had some downtime to hang out before he needed to head back. Noon was like a universal lunch time, right? Maybe they’d sync up and grab lunch together before heading back to their respective jobs?

Rio had only stopped by the office a couple of times, and mostly in passing. He poked his head in, glancing around without seeing any initial sign of Ari. He pushed the rest of his way through the door and into the waiting area. Immediately, he could hear someone. The office wasn’t entirely empty, but he wasn’t convinced it was Ari either. His senses weren’t exactly world-class for a hunter, but he was confident enough that if there was anyone he could pick out, it was his best friend. “Uh, hello?” Rio called out, staying relatively quiet. If Ari was here, she’d hear him regardless. Rio could hear the noises, someone standing up and walking towards him. But when the figure made it there, it definitely wasn’t Ari. “Oh uh, hey Emilio. Ari isn’t here by chance, is she?” He had met Ari’s boss maybe once or twice, and admittedly found him pretty intimidating. But he had never given Rio any reason to actually be afraid around the man.

-

It had been a slow day, at least in comparison to how busy Axis had been lately. Missing persons cases were on the rise, but considering most of the missing people in question seemed to be returning on their own without any kind of outside influence, stories of time traveling adventures tucked firmly into their arsenal of weird White Crest shit, families were choosing to hold onto the hope that their loved ones would reappear rather than hiring private detectives to find them. That was all well and good for Emilio. Those first few weeks of time travel confusion had gotten him enough cases to leave a comfortable cushion in place for the slower pace of things now, and the less he had to talk to the people of White Crest, the more they liked him. 

He was confident enough that things would remain slow today that he’d let Ari head out early, waving off any arguments and sending her home. It was something he regretted when he heard the door open. Usually, it was Ari who was in charge of greeting customers. They’d learned it worked a lot better that way. But Emilio had dug his own grave here, and leaving a stranger in the front of his apartment with the hopes that they might give up and leave eventually probably wasn’t his best idea, so he made his way towards the front of the apartment with a quiet mutter to himself. When the person called out, he took note of the familiar voice and relaxed just a little. Ari’s friends didn’t always like him, but that meant they also had a tendency to disappear once they realized he was the only one around. He nodded to the kid — Rio, wasn’t it? He was trying to get better about remembering their names — as he stepped into the front of the apartment, glancing around instinctively. Just him. Good. “Hey, kid,” he greeted. “She went home. Slow day. I can, uh… Tell her you stopped by?”

-

Once Emilio stepped out, Rio was pretty positive that there was no one else in the building with him. As he had been constantly reminded by hunters - rangers in particular - Rio’s hearing wasn’t exactly up to par with other rangers. But he had started working on that with Kaden before leaving town, and had tried to keep up some schedule of training while he worked with the Scribe. He was getting better. All around, he had gotten better. His senses, his strength and even his combat skills. He wasn’t particularly proud of this though. He had spent so long refusing to fight and wishing that he could rid himself of the abilities that it felt wrong to embrace them in any way.

Rio gave the man a small wave as Emilio walked into the room right before the man explained to Rio that Ari had already left for the day. After a small sigh, Rio shrugged. “Figures. That’s what I get for not texting first.” Oh well, maybe he’d grab some dessert to take back to her tonight after work. He supposed he was pretty much done here, though just walking out seemed rude. Admittedly, so did leaving without at least an attempt at socializing. The idea made Rio anxious immediately. He had only met Emilio once or twice, and socializing wasn’t something Rio excelled at ever after befriending people. “You uh- keeping busy? Ari always seems really busy.” Yeah, that was a poor attempt. “I uh- just started working at a law firm not too far from here. So that’s why I just dropped by, for the record. I’m not like a stalker.” Even Rio recoiled at the sentence immediately. Why would he say that? When had Emilion even suggested that? Jesus, this was awful. “That was a weird thing to say. I acknowledge that. I get nervous sometimes, clearly.”

-

Small talk had never come naturally to Emilio. Hell, talk had never come naturally to him; of the two languages he spoke, he wasn’t particularly good at conversing in either. He was good at threats, skilled in arguments, but simple conversation? There was a reason he could count his friends on one hand. He was reminded of it now, with Maybe-Rio asking questions and going on in spite of the fact that the person he’d actually come here to see wasn’t present. The kid was being polite, Emilio knew, but politeness had never made a whole lot of sense to Emilio. That was probably why he needed Ari to sit between him and his clients.

“Busy enough,” he replied with a shrug. It didn’t seem like enough to say, so he added, “Cases have slowed down the last week or so. They’ll pick back up again soon. That’s how it goes, sometimes.” He squinted at the kid as he babbled on, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire nature of his words. “I know you’re not a stalker. She said you’re her friend. People aren’t friends with stalkers. You don’t — I mean, I’m not looking for you to explain yourself. You can come see your friend at work. Not any of my business.” Except for the fact that the actual business was his, but… Well, that wasn’t relevant. “You, uh… Doing okay?” God, he was shit at this.

-

Welp, clearly Rio and Emilio were not the town’s socialites. Both seemed to be stumbling over the idea of small talk, never quite circling back around to doing it successfully. Rio knew at some point the right answer was to simply cut if off and leave, but if he did it incorrectly this random man may end up hating Rio and Rio’s anxiety simply couldn’t handle that stress. Though the further into the whole he dug into this conversation the less chance Rio had of convincing the man to like him anyways. It felt very catch-22. “Right year. Definitely should not have ever suggested I was a stalker. Especially to a private investigator. Odd choice on my part.” Rio laughed nervously, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. “But thanks. For uh- letting me come and visit. I will not disturb productivity.” That felt like the right thing to say to someone’s boss. Brownie points, right? “Oh me? I’m doing alright. Just uh- settling back into working life. And also back into town. Things aren’t any less weird than they were before I left I see.” Another nervous laugh and failed attempt at humor before Rio pivoted, “Are you uh- from here? I grew up here. Never even left Maine until last year. So getting out for a bit was cool and uh- intimidating.”

-

At least Emilio wasn’t the only half of this conversation who sucked at making conversation. Things might have gone a little smoother if one of them knew how to make small talk, but Rio being just as bad at it as he was meant that Emilio didn’t have to feel alone in his awkwardness. “Not the weirdest thing someone in this town has said to a private investigator,” he offered. “Not like I’m a cop or anything, anyway. Most I can do is snap pictures.” And… eliminate threats, but Rio didn’t have to worry about Emilio doing that to him. Ari would be upset if he did. He snorted at the kid’s promise not to disturb productivity, shaking his head. “Don’t gotta worry about that.” Ari was already much more productive than Emilio was at work just by not showing up drunk. The bar wasn’t particularly high. “That’s good. Good to hear. Know Ari likes having you back.” She’d been happy when he’d shown back up, and it was good to see her happy, after everything. He shifted at the question, fingers tapping nervously against his thigh. “Uh, no. México. I’m from México. Came to the states a few years back, traveled around a while. Came here last year. Seemed like a good enough place to…” 

He trailed off as the clocktower chimed outside the window. He was about to make a comment about the time, because that was how goddamn desperate he was to end the awkwardness, but the moment the echo of the chime ended, the apartment into a deep, inky blackness. It was a strange sort of darkness; Emilio could tell that right away. He was a slayer. If it were just dark, he’d be able to see just fine. But even Emilio couldn’t see his damn hand in front of his face in this shit, and that was bad. He cleared his throat, eyes darting around uselessly. “Uh, kid? You still around?” 

-

Rio couldn’t possibly imagine how Emilio intended to end that sentence. What could White Crest possibly have that made it ‘good enough’ in any category? The only example Rio could think of were unique or mysterious ways to die. Rio was pretty sure that wasn’t what Emilio was trying to suggest. But the opportunity never came, with a loud chiming noise echoing out across town instead. The chimes were loud, enough to upset Rio’s sensitive hearing. He tried to play off the discomfort by pretending to rub at his ears as he tried to muffle the noise. If the volume had been the only thing weird about the chimes Rio could have let it go. But he felt a sense of dread creeping in as he heard the chimes going off around him. It felt haunting, like the bells were chanting their rhythm. Though the feat wasn’t exactly difficult, the sound made Rio uneasy. And that was all before everything went dark. 

Rio had never experienced darkness like this. The ranger's night vision had been a part of Rio’s life as long as he had retained memories. Seeing at night had never been a problem for him. But the darkness that overtook the walls of the office was something else entirely. There was nothing to see through. Any light available had all but disappeared, and Rio found himself staring into complete blackness with nothing there to look back at him. It was a terrifying sensation, realizing for the first time in his life that he was completely unable to see. “I uh- yeah. I’m here.” Rio tried to keep his voice as level as possible, but he knew he was failing. Panic was settling into his tone quickly and his breathing started to become more rapid as he found it harder to catch any actual air. He tried to remind himself that was a panic reaction rather than actual reality, but he was having a hard time convincing himself of that. “What is going on? I can’t see anything. Like… anything.”

-

There was a heaviness to the darkness, like someone had put a blanket on top of the damn world. It felt thick, tangible. For a moment, Emilio was reminded of the way things had been when he’d lost his powers to that broken promise to Regan — muffled and dull, with nothing working quite like it should. But his abilities were fine now. His hearing was the same as it had always been, his strength still present. It was just the night vision that was acting up now. If not for the way Rio’s heartbeat picked up pace as the darkness fell, Emilio might have panicked himself into thinking he’d gone blind, but that clearly wasn’t the case. 

He nodded when the kid reaffirmed that he was still there, though he realized belatedly that the motion would be lost in the inky blackness of the apartment. “Uh, all right. You’re good?” He wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a question or not, because there was definitely a hint of panic to the kid’s voice. Emilio wanted to reassure him, but he’d never been good at that. He was worse at it with people he didn’t know well, and despite their shared friendship with Ari, Rio was a near stranger. Certainly not the sort of person Emilio would have picked to be stuffed in this sort of situation with. “It’s not just you. I can’t see either. And that’s… I usually can. When it’s dark.” He took a step forward as if to ensure he still could. He could navigate his apartment well enough blind — it wasn’t a particularly big space, and his paranoia ensured that he’d mapped it out in his head down to the smallest detail — but the nature of the darkness made him hesitant to try. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and tapped the button to unlock it before letting out a frustrated grunt. “Phone’s dead. Yours work?”

-

Panicking wasn’t going to solve anything. The thought did little to ease the pressure that was building on Rio’s chest, but he kept reminding himself nonetheless. The mantra had to work eventually, right? When Emilio spoke he sounded perplexed by the situation, but not panicked. That was a plus at least, that one of them was staying calm. Rio used it as a sort of motivation to force himself to act calm as well. “I’m fine. Just uh- confused” It was definitely a lie, probably an obvious one at that, but he had kept his voice as steady as he could manage given the situation. That had to count for something. Emilio’s comment took Rio aback until he remembered running into Ari in the Common the day he had gotten back to town. Ari had said that she worked with a slayer. Rio wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or more concerned. The tensing muscles and shiver that shot through his body was about what he expected at the reminder that he was here with a hunter. But Rio reminded himself that this was one Ari seemed to trust. That definitely counted for something. 

Rio didn’t agree with the man, even if he probably should have. It had been the perfect opportunity to lay it on the table, maybe find some common ground with the stranger that he had found himself in this odd situation with. If anybody was going to understand the inherit fear that came with complete darkness, it was going to be another hunter who had never probably never experienced it before either. But telling a hunter that he shared their ability was basically the same as admitting that Rio was a hunter himself. Rio didn’t want to say that no matter how true it was. “Oh. Phone. Good idea.” Rio loved the opportunity to stop dwelling on the hunter predicament and dug into his pocket for his phone. He pulled it free, turning on the flashlight and attempting to illuminate the room. But even with the light, it did little more than give a few feet of clarity to Rio. Emilio was finally back into view, but there wasn’t much visible beyond that. Whatever was happening right now had practically taken away all the light that there was outside. He took a few steps towards Emilio in case the phone light was lost, “Those chimes. Those were different than usual, yeah? And this… whatever it is happened right after it. That can’t be a coincidence.”

-

All right, so the kid was definitely panicking. It was fair enough, really; Emilio wanted to panic a little, too. His tendency towards paranoia put him on edge on a good day, and he hadn’t had a whole lot of good days lately. But he did better when he had someone to look out for. He did a lot better when the person in question was a kid. If he’d been alone for this, he might’ve made stupider decisions, might’ve run for the door or tried for the window and broken his damn neck in the process. “Confused,” Emilio repeated with a nod. “Yeah. You and me both. Power goes out all the time over here, but…” They still should have been able to see something. The streetlights should have offered some reprieve, or the emergency lights in the hallway, or the goddamn moon. But it was like every source of light in the Bend had just… disappeared entirely. For all the weird shit he’d seen in White Crest, Emilio had never seen this before. And he was certain he didn’t like it.

Luckily, the kid was a lot better at remembering to keep his phone charged than Emilio was. The light that came from the phone’s flashlight was dim, and it didn’t make too much of a difference in the grand scheme of things, but Emilio could see the kid’s face and make out enough of what was around them to confirm that they were still in his apartment. It was weird that he felt that needed confirmation, but… a few weeks ago he’d been transported back to the goddamn 1800s while out on a walk. Anything was possible in this hellhole. “The chimes,” he repeated thoughtfully, thinking back to the clock ringing in the hour. Rio was right — it had sounded a little off. “Yeah. Yeah, it must be related. Christ. Goddamn clock knocking out the lights. This fucking town.” He sighed, moving forward and putting a gentle hand on Rio’s elbow to lead him to the couch. If they were going to be stuck in the dark, they might as well have the option of sitting down. “All right, so, the clock chimed and the lights went out. So, what do you think? Wait it out until it chimes again, hope they come back on? Wouldn’t recommend trying to walk home with the streetlights out.”

-

A million theories were running through Rio’s head right now, but having Emilion hear was surprisingly helpful in keeping his brain quiet. Even if Emilio was a stranger, it was someone that Ari trusted. That counted for more than Rio was able to explain. It was more than enough to override Rio’s own opinions on hunters. Plus, Rio could hear that Emilio was genuinely trying to help out right now. 

Rio wasn’t sure if the phone light illuminating some of the darkness helped his anxiety, or the fact that the phone light wasn’t doing nearly enough was making things worse. The indecision caused an even bigger spike in Rio’s heart rate. He jumped when he felt the hand, gentle as it was, tapping on Rio’s elbow. “Sorry” Rio answered immediately, feeling bad for the slight recoil his body had done on instinct, “That’s uh- that’s just like my constant state. Not caused by you. Or the blackout for that matter.” His natural reaction to nerve wracking situations like this was to completely spill his guts and talk until he had literally run out of breath. But Rio was trying to keep grounded by reminding himself that Emilio definitely didn’t want to know about his upbringing or his issues with intimacy and physical touch.

“Yeah. This town.” Rio agreed lightly, following Emilio’s lead to the couch and sinking down into it. He set his phone down on the cushion face down so that his light could continue to give them a little visibility. Rio could dig through Scribe text for weeks and probably find nothing to explain why or how this was happening. But maybe he could at least find an account of someone discussing the weird chimes. “It chimed right on the hour. I mean, it could just be a coincidence. But logically speaking- maybe it will chime again in…” Rio drug that last word out to grab his phone and peak at the time, the flashlight scattering around the room as he did so, “57 minutes.” Emilio was right, they should both stay still. Walking around town with no vision would be incredibly dangerous. It made him worry for all the other people in town that may have gotten caught out there in the dark. They didn’t even have the other enhanced senses to give them an upper hand. “So we uh- have some time to kill now.”

-

Comfort wasn’t something Emilio was particularly good at. Most people who knew him could attest to as much. The Cortezes never had much use for it, made it clear that such things were better off being avoided when possible, and Emilio fell in line without a fuss. He’d never thought much of it because he’d never known people who needed much comforting. Even Jaime, barely six when he’d died, had been pretty easygoing. Rio was different. Rio was jumpy and uncertain in a way Emilio didn’t quite know how to deal with. And it was his default state, evidently. Emilio cleared his throat, uncertain in a different sort of way. “Right,” he nodded. “No problem. Just, uh… Let me know if there’s anything I can do to… help.” God, the fact that he really was trying his best here probably made it sadder, didn’t it?

At least they had some idea of what was going on, even if it wasn’t an idea that made a whole lot of sense. It made White Crest sense, he figured. In any other town, it would be insane to consider. In this one, it was probably just about right. 

The idea of sitting around for fifty-seven minutes wasn’t one Emilio liked. He wasn’t good at sitting still, and was worse at it when there was something strange going on, but… There didn’t seem to be a lot of options available to them here. It was one of those awful situations where there was nothing to fight. Those had always been the slayer’s least favorite kind. “Uh, what do you want to do?” Rio might have a better idea than anything Emilio would come up with.

-

Emilio was barely visible through the darkness, something that Rio was still unaccustomed to. He hated this. The lack of vision made him feel helpless. And feeling helpless made him feel like the same scared kid he had been his entire life. He didn’t want to be like that anymore. He couldn’t be like that anymore. It was the whole reason Ari almost ended their friendship in the first place. “Uh- thank you” Rio responded, trying to get a gauge on Emilio’s attempt at comforting him. It was too easy to read the man as sarcastic. Another hunter looking down on someone weaker than him. But Rio didn’t get that vibe. Rio was pretty sure that Emilio was being genuine. He could tell the attempt wasn’t something that Emilio was well practiced in, but Rio appreciated the offer regardless. “I’m okay though. Hard to believe but I’m tougher than I look.”

There was no clear and present danger here right now for Rio to prove that. He certainly wasn’t asking for it, no matter how awkward an hour of silence and no vision would be. Rio had been beaten and bruised enough since getting back to White Crest. It would welcome a break in any form that it came in. As long as the lights came back on after the hour was over at least. “Umm… great question.” Rio shrugged, though he wasn’t sure if the motion was even visible to Emilio. He realized he should probably text his new boss, shooting off a quick message and hoping that it went through. “I’m not sure sitting around and chatting about life is something you’re eager to do. Or me for that matter.” Rio sighed. He still had issues opening up to actual friends sometimes, let alone trying to pass the time with someone who was essentially a stranger. “But uh- have you ever seen anything like this before? I’ve been trying to dig into White Crest’s history. Try to find some other mention of all the weird time stuff that’s been going on but… well it hasn’t been very fruitful yet.”

-

Rio seemed to accept the words of comfort for what they were, even if the attempt still felt flat. Emilio bit back the urge to tell the kid not to thank him, not to thank anyone, because he figured the kid knew that. If he was friends with Ari, he knew that. Ari, given her own experiences, wouldn’t let someone she loved fall into a fae bind, and she loved Rio. That much was incredibly clear from the first time she’d mentioned him. Shifting, he only nodded his head, the motion a terrible way to communicate in a room so pitch dark that the light of Rio’s phone was the only thing that allowed them to see one another at all. For Emilio, who had always communicated better nonverbally than he had with words, it was pretty much the worst situation to be stuck in with a near stranger. The only thing that made it passable was the fact that he was on his home turf, in his apartment, and the fact that he knew Rio was generally trustworthy thanks to Ari’s judgment. “Good. It’s good to be tough.” It struck him that it was the kind of thing Ari always said when he was worried about her, too. There was something to that, he figured, something to be said for kids rubbing off on one another.

“Not much of a chatter,” he agreed with another useless nod. “I don’t, uh… I mean, I’m not even great at the… sitting around.” He’d much prefer it if the chiming of the clock had sent a swarm of rabid beasts through the apartment window; that was the kind of trouble Emilio could deal with. That was the kind of thing he understood intimately, completely. This was so foreign by comparison that it felt akin to having been dropped in the middle of a country he’d never set food in with a map written out in a language he didn’t speak. Rio’s question, at least, was enough to take his mind off things for a moment. “Oh. I, uh… Haven’t lived in White Crest long. Less than a year. Can’t speak much for the history of it.” He paused, considering. “Have experienced the time stuff, though. Got pulled back into some cowboy bullshit in the middle of a date. Wasn’t too bad, all things considered.”

-

“Me neither. Not anymore at least.” Rio agreed. It wasn’t hard to tell that Emilio wasn’t much for small talk or sitting around. That didn’t come as a surprise at all. While chatting had never been Rio’s forte, sitting around was something he had always excelled at. Sure, it usually did it with multiple books piled around him, but he used to be able to spend hours sitting in the welcome darkness of the abandoned scribrary and read until he was nodding off at the desk. He found himself a lot more restless now, even though he didn’t want to admit it. It was a quality usually reserved for his sister. And he was very passionate about not sharing any traits in common with Athena aside from DNA.

“Ah. Right. That makes sense.” Rio should have known better. He had just hoped maybe Emilio had come to town for some reason. It was probably a bit of a stretch to think that may have anything to do with what was going on right now. “Yeah well, history is supposed to be like my shtick. The history of White Crest and the… weird things going on is like the only thing I’m useful at.” Rio sighed, “And I’m not feeling particularly useful right now.” No matter how late Rio stayed up or how many books he thumbed through he just kept coming up empty. It was driving him insane. “Cowboy? It threw you that far back? Holy crap.” He hadn’t even considered that it could go that far, considering it only took him back to the nineties. “It took my to the nineties I think. And my dad tried to kill me.” That wasn’t necessarily true, more like physically maim him so that his dad could kill a leshy. But it was close enough. “There has to be some sort of connection. I just can’t figure out what it is.”

-

He wondered what it meant, that not anymore. It felt like there was something behind the words, and part of Emilio wanted to ask because as much as he hated small talk, he hated feeling like he’d been left in the dark just a little bit more. It was why the detective shit worked for him. He got his answers, and he wasn’t bad at it. But… pushing people, asking questions, it tended to lead to trouble. And while the trouble was excusable when it was strangers he was causing it for, it would be less so with someone Ari loved as much as she loved Rio. Plus, he was pretty sure he’d promised her he’d be nice to her friends. He probably ought to stick to that as much as he could.

“Yeah,” he agreed belatedly, tapping a hand against his thigh absently. He glanced over as Rio continued, lamenting that history was the only thing he was useful at. It was a familiar kind of mantra. Emilio didn’t know shit about history, but he was only good for one thing. This situation was proof of it. With nothing around to fight, with nothing to kill, Emilio was little more than a wall decoration. He was just there, with no purpose behind him. He’d said as much before to Teddy, to Ari, and even if they verbally disagreed, he got the feeling it was the kind of thing everyone knew. But with Rio… “Probably not the only thing.” The words were cautious, uncertain. He didn’t know the kid well enough to put any certainty behind them, but he seemed all right. He seemed like the sort of kid who was good at shit, even if he didn’t think he was. 

“Yeah. Cowboys. It was shit, mostly, but I think my boyfriend had fun. Wants to take up line dancing now.” There was a hint of fondness to the tone, a quiet smile in the words, but the amusement faded as Rio continued. His dad tried to kill him. Christ. Emilio tried not to think of his own father, who’d been tough in a necessary kind of way. “Sorry,” he offered, the word feeling clunky and unnatural even if the sentiment was genuine. “About your dad. Sucks.” Yeah. He could be better at this. “I’d offer to help you figure it out, but I’m not much… I mean, between you and me, I know I’m not the smartest guy around. I can do the detective shit, but this goes a little deeper than that. Not the kind of thing you can figure out by tailing people or turning over stones, I think.”

-

Emilio knew nothing about Rio to back up the gesture, but Rio appreciated it nonetheless. It was nice to think that other people around town actually found some value or worth in Rio. It wasn’t something he had been used to growing up. Most of the time he was just reminded that his twin held all the talent and future of the family. “Thanks. But whenever I try to help with anything outside of research I usually just end up getting myself hurt. I’m pretty clumsy.” A lot less so than he used to be, admittedly. As it turned out, when Rio actually focused on training instead of trying to ignore it he actually learned a thing or two. It hadn’t worked miracles, but he was a lot quicker on his feet than he used to be. 

“That’s adorable. Not the cowboy time travel thing, obviously, but the line dancing.” Rio was immediately enamored. It was a welcome distraction from the dreariness of the situation the two had found themselves in. “Please tell me that you’re going to take him. And can Ari and I come?” The idea of dancing in front of other people was actually terrifying, but if he could force himself to do it with anyone it would be Ari. She hadn’t cracked Rio’s shell as much as she had jackhammered it. “Oh it’s fine. I mean clearly it’s not fine, but it didn’t exactly come as a surprise.” After getting over the initial shock of seeing his dad in his twenties, being attacked by him was about the most natural thing in the world. “I was never super close with my family.” Understatement of the year. “Don’t worry about it. Finding historical text on this town has never been easy” Rio tried to wave the offer off, but it bugged him that Emilio was so quick to tear himself down. Ironic, coming from Rio, but still. “I think detective work in this town is a lot less simple than you want to give yourself credit for.” 

-

“Plenty of ways to help people that don’t need you to research or be quick on your feet.” Though Emilio struggled with anything outside the latter. Ari insisted that he helped people here at Axis, with the detective gig, but… More often than not, in this town, the detective gig was just a process of delivering bad news. Emilio wasn’t sure how much that helped, in the grand scheme of things. “But, uh… Nothing wrong with being clumsy, you know.” He thought of Silas, as he often did when faced with kids like Rio who weren’t fighters but were survivors all the same. And, just as it always did, that thought brought a stab of guilt along with it. For Rio’s sake, it was probably better if Emilio distanced himself here. He knew that.

But it was still easier said than done. It always was, with kids. Rosa would have teased the hell out of him for it, would have pointed out how terrified he’d been back when she’d first handed him his nephew, when Jaime was so small that he felt like the most fragile glass sculpture cradled in the hunter’s arms. He hadn’t thought much of kids until he tried being an uncle on for size. Now he had that treacherous soft spot for them, and all he ever did with it was get them killed.

Clearing his throat, he forced the thought from his mind. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna take him. Not really my thing, but he’ll have fun.” And when Teddy had fun, Emilio did, too. He knew he ought to tell Rio no to coming along, but… How much trouble could he really get the kids into while line dancing? “Sure. But it’s on you to keep Ari from making fun of me too much. Counting on you, kid.” He was a little grateful for the dark, in that moment. Like a damn coward, he was grateful for the way it hid his expression, grateful for the way it saved him from having to study Rio’s. The kid’s dad tried to kill him, and it hadn’t come as a surprise. Emilio didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t like the way it felt familiar. “Heard people say the family you make is the important one, anyway,” he offered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it. He wasn’t sure he could, given his own family history. Emilio had been isolated from the world outside his family until they’d been gone, had never had a chance to see them from a distance without grief coloring the lenses. He thought he might be lucky for that. He snorted lightly at Rio’s attempt to defend his intelligence, shrugging a shoulder. “Hardest part half the time is turning ‘your husband got eaten by a tree’ into something people will actually believe.” It was light, humor clear in his tone. He was tired of the heavy stuff. He’d never been much good at it.

-

Not that Rio had particularly high expectations, but this conversation seemed to be going better than he had expected it to. The bar wasn’t very high, but despite both of their apprehension the two seemed to be able to carry on the conversation. Whether it was awkward or not was an entirely different story, but given the fact that the two hardly had anything better to do right now, things seemed to be going well enough. For a hunter, the man seemed to be especially understanding of Rio’s lack of physical finesse. Granted, it was a lot easier to give the benefit of the doubt to some random kid. Maybe Emilio’s feelings about Rio’s gracefulness would be different if the man knew the truth about what he was. That the two had more in common than either one probably wanted to admit. “Thanks” Rio said, against his better judgment. “I guess I’m still learning that. Or unlearning a lot of other things, I guess.” Being clumsy had never been acceptable growing up, which had only made Rio play into it more. 

“You’re putting a lot of faith in me. As if anyone could stop Ari from saying whatever is on her mind.” Rio laughed, happy to think about something positive for a change. He wasn’t sure what had happened in his life to make him think the idea of square dancing with strangers was positive. “But I’ll try my best. No promises though.” From the way that Emilio said it, Rio had to wonder if the man had his own family issues. It wouldn’t surprise Rio, but he wasn’t willing to pry right now. “I think that’s true, honestly. I’m closer with Ari than my own sister.” He counted pretty much any of his friends as being closer than his real family. 

Listening to the man talk about his business, Rio couldn’t help but laugh. The story he had used was just ridiculous enough that Rio honestly couldn’t tell if it was real or made up entirely. In this town, the latter seemed more likely. Which just proved Rio’s point. “Jesus. The saddest part is I can’t even tell if that’s actually a case you’ve had or not.” He could only imagine what Emilio had to come up with. Rio had been guilty of the same growing up, but at least had the excuse of being anti-social and a recluse. Athena usually did most of the talking for both of them. “At this point, I think people in this town will accept just about anything if it means continuing to think there’s nothing wrong. I can already imagine what the news is going to say about this tomorrow,” Rio started, gesturing his arms around vaguely, “spontaneous solar eclipse or something, probably.”

-

Unlearning. Before White Crest, Emilio hadn’t even known there was such a thing. But since setting up shop in this town… he’d done an awful lot of it. Almost all of that unlearning was tied to the people he’d met here. Unlearning preconceived notions about the undead thanks to Silas (and Metzli, though he might not admit to that one as readily). Unlearning other things he’d believed about supernatural creatures in general thanks to people like Ari and Teddy. Unlearning a hell of a lot of things he’d believed about himself. Life in White Crest, he’d come to realize, was a never ending goddamn cycle of unlearning. It was kind of exhausting. “Guess I can understand that.” Better than he might have wanted to, really.

He huffed a laugh, offering a small nod of agreement because the kid made a damn good point there. There were very few things that could keep Ari from doing whatever it was she wanted to do, and making fun of Emilio tended to rank pretty high on that list more often than not. He’d never minded it half as much as he’d pretended to. His familial situation had never been normal. His siblings had never picked at one another the way he knew some did. In the Cortez family, sibling rivalry had tended to involve more knives than petty teasing, but… He liked to think Ari gave him a taste of what it might have been like had he grown up a little differently. And he liked that, even if it was another thing he’d never admit to. “No promises is a good policy. But I think you can handle it. She’ll probably listen to you better than she does me.” Not that that was saying much. Ari didn’t tend to listen to Emilio at all, really, unless what he was saying lined up with what she wanted to hear. 

“Technically, I guess the tree didn’t eat him,” Emilio replied dryly, tone not making it any easier to tell whether the story was true or not. His face, too, gave little away, a blank mask with a spark of amusement in his eyes that you’d have to know him well to really spot. “Usually, I go with animal attack. People accept that one easy enough, and it’s simpler. You go with something else, the police get involved. And… Closure’s harder.” If someone thought there was a person out there somewhere who’d killed their loved one, a person the police couldn’t find or wouldn’t arrest, it consumed them. Emilio would know. You could never quite settle after a thing like that, never find peace. He wouldn’t force it on anyone else. Not ever. “I’m sure they’ll come up with some excuse for it. Probably explain the power blackout with something like a bird in the powerline or a bear taking out a transformer. Who fucking knows, with this town.”

-

Talking with Emilio helped keep Rio mostly at peace despite the anxiety that crept around every dark corner, waiting to infiltrate Rio’s brain. On instinct, he pulled his legs up onto the couch, wrapping his arms around his knees and entering a fetal position. The move brought more comfort than it probably should have, though he supposed it mostly had to do with comfort than anything else. He had often assumed this exact position growing up, trying to make himself as small as possible. As if the action could make him disappear entirely. That might just be wishful thinking. “I think I’m the best chance you have at not being mocked by her. I’m sure I can do my best to keep her distracted. I mean, who couldn’t enjoy a square dance, right?” The question sounded mostly sarcastic, partially because it was clearly not something that would usually sound fun to Rio, but something that Ari could easily make him enjoy. 

This explanation didn’t clear much of anything up, and now Rio wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know whether this was a true story or not. Why make himself afraid of trees for the rest of time if he didn’t have to? “Well thank god he didn’t technically eat him.” Rio finally settled on, stuffing that idea into the deep recesses of his mind. “Animal attack is a classic. Can’t really go wrong with it.” And there was an argument to be made for the idea of closure. How could someone ever move on from losing a loved one if they couldn’t even understand or comprehend the true cause of death? Sometimes lies were easier. Kinder, even. “Let’s just hope the sun does come back. Not that they couldn’t think up an excuse if the sun never rose again, but it’d be a lot more complicated.”

-

The kid shifted beside him, and while Emilio couldn’t see the position he was situating himself into, he could feel enough to know that Rio was curled up in a way that sent a surge of something through him. It was the same kind of thing he felt towards Ari, towards Silas, towards Jaime. More often than not, it was the kind of thing that landed him in situations he’d be a lot better off avoiding. Unfortunately, it was also the kind of thing that made him feel something worth feeling. “Appreciate you having my back,” he replied dryly, pushing the feeling aside for now. “I’m sure your sacrifice’ll be worth it for me to have a few minutes of peace and quiet. And for making my guy happy. That’s probably the big one.” The more important one, in any case. Rio and Teddy would probably get along well, Emilio thought, though the thought was a little downplayed by the fact that he figured Teddy would get along with just about anyone and Rio seemed much the same. 

He huffed a laugh at Rio’s response to the story, deciding to spare the kid the nightmares by refusing to elaborate any further. Murderous trees weren’t really as much of a problem anymore, anyway, so it wasn’t anything the kid really needed to worry about. “People tend to accept it easily enough.” Most people, he’d learned, wanted an easy answer. They wanted something concrete, something solid. Grief was easier when you had that. “If the sun doesn’t come back up, that’s it for me. I’m going back to México. Don’t want to imagine how fucking cold it’d get in Maine without a damn sun to warm things up.”

-

“The sacrifice is definitely worth it.” Rio shook his head vigorously before remembering that vision was a bit of a problem now and stopped himself. “I don’t know your guy” Rio stopped himself from adding on ‘I barely know you’, “but I am very dedicated to making sure that the two of you have a great night.” He was close with Ari after all. Plus, this whole bonding session in the dark had to count for something. The two probably wouldn’t be gossiping anytime soon, but he could count Emilio as a friend now right?

“Even the people that believe in the supernatural want to believe in the easy stuff every now and again.” Rio sure knew that he did. Trying to find a logical answer to something was always at the top of his list growing up. That had unfortunately died off the older he had gotten. He had finally just thrown out the supernatural word. The two hadn’t necessarily been dancing around the phrase, but it still felt weird to say it to someone that Rio had never experienced the supernatural with before. The lack of sun probably counted towards that, though. “Smart choice. I’d love to travel anywhere south of here and get away. But it’s definitely going to come back.” Rio sighed, clancing at his phone again and perking up, “Look our hour is even almost up. If we’re lucky, daylight will be back in the next fifteen or so minutes.” If they were lucky.

-

“You’d like him,” Emilio offered with a shrug. Even though he didn’t know Rio well, he figured it was true. Maybe this night of dancing would have to happen after all, if only to allow both Rio and Teddy the opportunity to make more friends. Emilio wasn’t sure if that was the sort of thing he’d care about under normal circumstances, but… Between Ari’s clear fondness of him and the time they’d spent here in this apartment, filling the silence together, he’d already developed something of a soft spot for the kid. 

He grunted in quiet agreement, nodding his head. “Shit like that’s hard enough without tacking a mystery on to it. Most people, even if they know about this shit, know more about how an animal attack works than a vampire draining someone dry. They don’t know if it’s more or less painful. Makes it harder to think about.” Emilio, of course, knew better than most the level of pain most supernatural encounters carried along with them. He’d like to say it made things easier, but… Knowing what his family had felt when they’d died was worse, somehow. “Never been big on the cold,” he admitted. “Makes Maine a poor choice for me, probably.” He peered over at Rio’s phone, making note of the time. “You think it’ll come back all at once, or slow?”

-

Rio had always thought that mysteries were for solving. He enjoyed them. The ones in books and the ones in real life. He liked knowing that the Scribrary was there when he ran into a creature he didn’t know or something in town was happening that there didn’t seem to be an explanation for. He always found comfort in knowing that if he did enough digging he could probably figure out what was going on. But things in town were getting too complicated. Nothing was simple or black and white. Rio was tired of having to hunt down the answer for everything. And he was frustrated that nothing seemed to have any answer anymore anyways. In that way, Ro enjoyed the simplicity of a private detective breaking the news to someone easily. “Good point. If something like that happened, I wish I had the option of thinking it was something simpler.”

“Yeah, definitely an odd choice,” Rio giggled. Rio had never been super bothered by the cold, though part of that had to do with his very intentional clothing choices. When he spent all year wearing baggy hoodies and long pants he actually started to enjoy the colder weather to give him a break from the heat, “But I’m sure you get plenty of business here. So maybe not the worst choice career wise.” Rio could guess that his hunter heritage had something to do with what brought Emilio to White Crest. Rio wondered how much time Emilio spent regretting that decision. “If I had to guess? I’d say it’ll flip back on like a light switch. And hurt all of our eyes. But who knows.”

-

Simpler was easier for most people. Grief was an inherently complex things, full of emotions too big to be fully understood and questions too heavy to be answered entirely. Every tragedy doubled as a mystery, in its way, even the mundane ones. There was always going to be a part of you that wondered about the things no one would ever be able to tell you. What had the last thought been before the person you loved faded away? What had they felt? Where had they gone? It was a mystery, every time. Adding to that only ever made it hurt more. So Emilio provided simple answers, even when those answers were lies. The truth was important, too, sure — everyone deserved for someone to know the truth behind what happened to them — but not for everyone involved. Not if it was only going to make a hard thing harder. He could carry the weight of that truth so the victims’ families didn’t have to. He was pretty good at it. 

Rio’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he huffed a short laugh at the kid’s response. “Got me bundled up like a goddamn Christmas present,” he complained good naturedly, shaking his head. He did have a habit of bitching and moaning when the weather turned cold, but that was hardly the worst thing about this town. And Rio was right — business in White Crest was good. “Keeps me busy,” he agreed with a nod. “Plenty of shit to do. And I guess running for my goddamn life is a pretty good way to keep warm.” There was a slight lilt to his voice, a quiet humor. Emilio’s jokes weren’t often funny to anyone but him, but he still told them. He opened his mouth to add something else, to talk about how their eyes would probably be the least of their problems, but the sudden tolling of the clocktower outside interrupted him. Before the echo of the bell had died down, the world lit up again. Just like Rio predicted, it happened all at once; complete darkness one moment, bright lights the next. The relative silence of the apartment was replaced by the ambient noise of appliances coming back on, the quiet hum of the lights. Emilio squinted against the sudden brightness, making a face. “Guess you were right about the eyes. Christ.” 

-

Rio found himself laughing at the man’s joke. Though the boy wasn’t particularly good at it himself, he always appreciated the people that could turn dark, life endangering moments into something humorous. Rio never really had that school. When the going got tough he tended to get panicking. But he definitely gave props to those that could make light of the situation. “Way to look at the positive,” Rio lamented. There weren’t many positive things that Rio could claim about running for his life. He had done it more than enough times to be familiar with the concept. So the next time he found himself doing it he’d definitely remember Emilio’s words. 

Things shifted so quickly, Rio barely had any time to prepare for it. One moment the two continued in darkness when the next the sky was suddenly lit up again as if the whole town hadn’t been plunged into darkness seconds before. “Jesus” Rio moaned, quickly moving his arm up and covering his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. Just in the few seconds they were exposed they had stung and begun watering. This must have been what it was like to actually adjust to no light. Rio couldn’t say he was a fan. “Not a huge fan of the results, but thank god the lights came back on.” Rio exclaimed, still covering his eyes. He wasn’t quite ready to start the process of slowly letting light back in. “Which means I’m finally safe to get back to my job.” He wondered how Portia had dealt with the hour of darkness. “Thanks for keeping me company during… whatever that was.”

-

“That’s me. An optimist.” It was the kind of thing that was so laughably untrue that it would likely make anyone who knew Emilio roll their eyes, though he wasn’t sure the humor of it would work on someone who he’d only just met. Maybe it’d serve just as well; he certainly didn’t have the demeanor of an optimist, and even his gloomy apartment was brightened only by the additions other people had contributed. Milo’s posters on the wall, Teddy’s decor around the room, Silas’s plants in the corner by the window, Ari’s colorful desk decorations. The brightest parts of Emilio had always come from the people around him rather than Emilio himself. He wondered if Rio could sense as much.

Huffing a small laugh, Emilio nodded in agreement. “Could have eased us into it,” he agreed, as if whatever had made the lights go off might be listening and taking suggestions for the next time something like this went down. “But this is definitely an improvement. Guess I should get back to my job, too.” There wasn’t a ton to do at the moment, but he had a few cases he could start looking into now that he could see well enough to do it. “Sure. I’d say let’s do it again sometime, but might be better if that kind of thing is a one-time occurrence. Still. Nice meeting you, kid.”

[houseoracastle]

[THE ADAPTIVE]. Please welcome [LORCAN HARA (HE/THEY)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [24]-year-old [RESIDENT] who lives in [TOWN]. You may see them around working as a [SPECIAL EDUCATION TEACHER]. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.

—IN CHARACTER

Name: Lorcan "Lori" Hara Age: 24 Birthday: March 6th Hometown: Huntsville Returned to Huntsville: March 2020 Occupation: Special Education Teacher at the local high school and elementary school

BIOGRAPHY

i'll be adding to this and fleshing it out, the bullet points are just temporary tw: abuse

born in huntsville to a schoolteacher mother and a construction worker father

quiet kid and kind of a loner growing up

ate lunch in the music room instead of with other kids

obsessed with music and could play several instruments at a young age

father had always been a drinker but it started getting bad as lorcan got a little older

his mother uprooted him and his siblings when lorcan was 13 and left huntsville because she said she was "haunted by the memories" of their father's abuse

shortly after leaving the paradox happened so lorcan assumed any friends or family he had left in huntsville wanted nothing to do with him because he received no communication

this included his father who at one point he'd been close with

lori decided to become a teacher like their mother and quickly decided special education was the route they wanted to take

after getting their bachelors degree they started teaching immediately while taking evening classes towards his masters

after getting his masters degree he decided he wanted to get in touch with his father and find out why the man hadn't even tried to get his kids back

letters and phone calls were all dead ends so over spring break he hit the road looking for his old home

at some point he hit a fork in the road where one direction seemed to be blocked by a landslide so he took a right and landed in huntsville

it looked like his hometown but also not quite how he remembered it

then he was saved by some do-gooder who realized lori had no idea what was gonna happen after dark

the next morning lori went to his childhood home hoping to find his father but only finding whoever the hell was living in there now

he has no idea what happened to his father

since they were unable to leave town lori started working in the schools with the students that were the neediest

having a small population makes it easy for lori to do his job at both the high school and the elementary school

he switches off days at each

he loves his students and works hard to help each and every one of them

helps out wherever he is needed around town as well because he's just that kind of person

might be quiet but is always friendly in his own quiet way

[admhawthorne]

“Look,” Jaxon settled on top of a rock in his nemesis’s lair, holding a hand up to show he had no intention of attacking, “we need to talk.” His archenemy looked at him over the sights of her weapon and cocked an eyebrow in response. He sighed, waving his hand at her. “I mean it, Lady Death.” He groaned, rolling his eyes and reaching up to pull off his mask to reveal his full face. “Mytra, we really need to talk.”

“A strange move for you to make, Captain Justice. Now I’ll be able to find out exactly who you are, and…”

“And we’ll be even since I clearly know who you really are.” He ran a hand over his short-cropped hair as he glanced around while she scoffed at him. His shoulders sagged with the weight of what he was about to do. “You and I have been at this a very long time, well over a decade, and we’re both getting older. To be honest with you, I’ve never understood why you turned evil, and, at this point, the reason is moot, but I can tell you this, I’m going to retire.”

“What? That’s not something a hero can do. You can’t retire. I’ll tear this world apart!” She readied her weapon again. “What kind of trick are you trying to play, Cap..”

“Jaxon.” He sighed heavily as he looked her in the eyes. “My name is Jaxon. When you and I started fighting, I was a young man in my 20s. Since then, I’ve graduated college, run my own business, and I have an amazing family. My kids and my husband are the best things to ever happen to me.” He motioned down the length of himself. “I’m a 40-year-old man still trying to play a game for 20-year-olds, and I’m tired, Mytra. Aren’t you?”

She stared incredulously at him for a moment before slowly lowering her weapon. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.” He stood to fully face her. “I’m more serious than I’ve ever been.” He held up his hand to show her a phone. Touching the screen, he opened it to display a paused video. “This was us last week. I’m sure you recognize it. It’s Coastal City, which happens to be where my family calls home. Your lack of care in not creating collateral damage nearly cost me everything last week. Frankly, the first time it was clear you didn’t care if you killed innocents, it should’ve been a wakeup call for me. Hell, the 200th time, it should’ve been, but it is clicking in this time. I guess,” he slipped his phone into a hidden pocket on his uniform as he gave her a little shrug, “you can call me selfish or self-centered if you want, but, this time, it was genuinely personal in a deep and meaningful way. That’s when I realized I can’t keep doing this, and I refuse to expect my children to pick up the mantel when they’re old enough. This is not what I want for them, so I’m going to retire, but, before I do that, there is one thing I have to do.”

Mytra’s jaw flexed as she considered what he was about to say. Training her weapon on him again, she sneered. “You don’t kill.”

“No, you’re right about that. I typically don’t kill, but it’s different this time. When you have people in your direct care who mean more to you than life itself, it puts things in a different perspective, but I’d still prefer not to kill, which is why I wanted to talk to you first.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She took a step closer, using the end of her weapon to poke his chest. “If you want me to stop, you’ll have to kill me. That’s the only way.”

“Did you enjoy your pizza at lunch today?” He smirked at her.

She blinked at the non sequitur. “What?”

“Your pizza? Did you enjoy it?” He nodded toward the box of half-eaten pizza still sitting on her console.

“Yes,” she replied, bewildered, “it’s from Johnny’s. I always order from there because…”

“It’s your favorite pizza spot. I know. I’ve known for years.” He pulled his phone out again and pulled up a different video. Holding it so she could see, it showed him adding something to her pizza before the delivery driver left with it. “I own my own business. It specializes in nanotechnology.” He flipped his phone around to pull up an app, which he then showed her. “This controls the nanobots running through your blood stream. With a simple command, I could have them dismantle you from the inside out. There’s nothing you can do to rid yourself of them. They replicate in several different organs, travel via nerves and blood vessels, and, by now, have already made themselves at home in your brain. They live in you now. They’re immune to every known chemical and radiation. There’s no getting rid of them.”

He watched as the gravity of what was done to her fully sank in. The terror slowly rose up her features as her weapon lowered to her side. “If I die of unnatural causes, a failsafe will enable, and they’ll do their job of dismantling you. If my family is injured, I’ll just push the button myself to have them do it. Now, are you going to walk away, or do you feel like dying today?”

She gaped at him for a long time before walking over to the pizza and picking up another slice to eat. “Well, are you hiring? I happen to know quite a bit about nanotech.”

“Nice try, but no. However, I can help you start your own pizza business.”

She shrugged as she chewed. “Good enough. Happy retirement, Jaxon. I hope the moral ambiguity you just created for yourself eats your conscious for the rest of your life.”

He humorlessly chuckled. “Thank you, and it will.”

[strawwritesfic]

Tony Stark x Female!Reader: Secrets

Summary: Tony’s not the kind of guy to keep anything a secret, so what’s with all this dodgy behavior?

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (mild language; sexual references; post-Avengers (2012); Avengers Tower; Avengers Team & Tony Stark; civilian!Reader; not compliant with Thor: The Dark World)

Challenge: “100 Drabbles of Randomness” by Miseria1 on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Secrets

It started out so subtly that you didn’t think much about it: a missed text here, an unanswered phone call there. Tony Stark was and always had been a busy man. Between his saving the earth from intergalactic threats and his various celebrity antics, you couldn’t expect him to be at your beck and call no matter what the definition of your relationship. You doubted that sleeping with him would suddenly transform him into the kind of guy who wanted to spend every waking moment with his girlfriend. But the cold shoulder didn’t end with lengthy pauses in your electronic communications.

“Hey, Tony!”

He started at the sound of your voice, an action that looked even more ridiculous coming from a man dressed neck to foot in armor. To his credit, he did not blast off into the sky at your approach. Less to his credit, he didn’t sound enthused when he greeted you.

“You want to go get lunch after you clean up?” you asked him.

“You know, thanks for the invite, [Name], but Steve and I already have plans.”

You wouldn’t have believed him if he hadn’t walked off with Steve that very moment. Plans? With Steve? That Tony preferred to plans with you?

But you did your best to shake it off. One thing you knew about Tony long before you started dating? He was moody. You also knew he didn’t like to be pressured into explaining his reasons for a mood. Maybe he had arc reactor trouble, or someone had notified him about Hammer’s probation. The best way to really get Tony mad at you would be to throw a fit over being ignored.

So you kept trying: Dinner? Drinks? A walk in the park? Every few days, you’d call with an offer of something, and every few days Tony would give you some strange excuse for not being able to go.

“Sorry. Promised Barton we’d talk about the tower’s duct system tonight.”

“Bruce is going through a very critical period, emotionally speaking. He needs me.”

“Natasha insists that I get some training done this evening.”

“Look, Thor asked for a babysitter for his kid brother this evening, and I volunteered.”

Okay, you had to call bullshit on that last one. Tony still had nightmares about Loki’s attack on the city. The call ended before you could say as much, though. That was Tony’s big mistake. You hung up your phone with fire in your veins and a vague plan in mind.

Unfortunately, given all the traffic between your home and Tony's, your plan hadn't gotten more defined by the time you arrived at Avenger's Tower. When you hopped out of your taxicab, you knew only one thing: Tony would own up to lying to you for the past two weeks. 

"Miss [L Name]," JARVIS greeted you the second you stepped inside the building. "To what do we owe—"

"Do me a favor, JAR. Don't tell Tony I'm here," you interrupted.

He made no reply. You had no way of knowing if he'd do as you asked or if Tony already had you on camera. The longer the endless elevator ride went on, the more time he had to prepare, and that was the last thing you wanted.

"Anthony Stark!" you shouted, bursting your way into his top-floor living quarters.

Clearly, JARVIS hadn't warned Tony of your impending arrival. Good. This gave you the satisfaction of seeing him jump about a foot off his chair and scatter delicate silver instruments across the surface of his desk when you showed up. He didn't quite manage to sound casual when he said, "[Name]? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, nothing important." You bristled in front of him. "Just thought I'd pop by and break up with you."

All the color drained from Tony's face. "What? Why are you breaking up with me? We haven't spent any time together in two weeks!”

"Yeah, genius. That's why! You obviously want to break up with me, so I'm beating you to the punch."

"Since when did I want to break up with you?"

"Since you started making up excuses to avoid me!"

The shock of your sudden appearance in his living room seemed to have worn off by then. Usual color returned, Tony carefully set aside the arc reactor in his hand, then crossed his arms over his chest to shoot you an appraising look. "Name one time I made up an excuse to avoid you."

"Hm. Let's see." You tapped your chin with one finger and rolled your eyes up to the ceiling. "Bailing on me to go hang out with Steve."

"He didn't want to go see Peggy for the first time alone," Tony said at once.

You glared at him. "Bruce being emotionally unstable."

"Ross was in town looking for him."

"Clint and duct system!"

With each suggestion, your voice rose in pitch. By the third, you were practically screeching. Tony was not so quick with an answer this time. You gazed down at him in triumph. Then he stood up, walked around his desk, and took both your hands in his.

"We were discussing enlarging them for him. You can check on all of these. They'll be on some record somewhere." Before your indignant swelling could burst into a demand to know how he explained training with Natasha, he went on, "But you are right about one thing. I have been avoiding you."

Even though you knew that to be the case, his admission caused ice to slide down your spine.

"Not,” he added hastily, “because I want to break up with you. It's because I need to tell you something that's hard for me to say."

You braced yourself for the worst—though what could be worse than Tony breaking up with you, you didn't know. Did he want to set up a ménage à trois with you, himself, and Pepper? Had Steve confessed to him his undying love? Was Tony's arc reactor acting up again so badly it would kill him?

Instead, he said the very last thing you expected: "I love you."

"You—"

"Love you," Tony said into your bug-eyed gaping. "Yeah. Which is kind of a new experience for me, all things considered, so you'll have to forgive me for having a bit of a freak out once I realized. Or, you know, you could do what you came here to do and break up with me."

He knew he'd stopped your anger in its tracks; you could tell by the smirk on his face. Somehow, despite your ill intentions, he'd managed to both surprise and please you. 

"Shut up," you managed to croak, just before you leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. 

Sure, it would have been easier for him to just tell you he loved you or ask you for some space. Lucky for him, his kissing quite nearly blotted out any doubts you had from your mind.

"Wait," you said, pulling away a few minutes later. "If you've always been telling me the truth about what you were doing, where's the villain you're supposedly babysitting?"

Tony's smirk grew about a mile. Your gaze followed the pointed look he shot the armchair in the sitting area a few feet away. There sat a very unhappy Loki, his wrists and ankles handcuffed in front of him and a look of utmost disgust upon his face.

"Oh, don't mind me," he sneered. "I'm just getting an up close and personal look at the mating habits of Midgardians.”

Turning back to Tony, you found him grinning from ear to ear. God, you loved that grin. And if it punished the guy who hurt the man you loved...Smiling yourself, you put your hand behind Tony's head and pulled him in for another long kiss. Secrets be damned, this one was too good to heckle him for keeping it so long.

[motownfiction]

kindling

cw: mention of miscarriage

As a teenager, Steph was never very good at kindling friendships.

Maybe that’s what she had with Sam. A romance on top of a friendship, but a friendship. He was the first person she wanted to tell all of her secrets to, and she liked sitting with him and talking about the world, even the things that were bigger than both of them. To this day, Steph is pretty sure that’s what it means to have a good friendship: If you can talk to the other person about things other than yourselves, about the world that swallows you whole (or embraces you, depending on the kind of day it is).

She had that with Jill, her roommate in college, but then sex and half-love and Marie got in the way. A little while later, she had it with Anita, her closest friend in the art major, but as with all things, time got in the way. Occasionally, she still gets phone calls from Anita – Christmas cards, too. She and her husband and their three kids travel everywhere. Must be nice.

When she was young, she used to want to get in between Lucy Callaghan and Sadie Doyle. Not to tear them apart, of course. Never to do that. Steph admired their friendship too much. She just wanted to stand in between it. Maybe to the left of it. Somewhere. What the two of them had – have, as Steph noted at Sam’s funeral – was unlike any other friendship between two adolescent girls that Steph had ever seen. They never competed with each other. They never worried about whether the other one looked cool or if it would be embarrassing to step out by each other’s sides. There was no pettiness, no secret wishing and hoping that the other would meet her doom before graduation, none of it. They were everything that grown-up men tell girls they could never be. Steph wasn’t jealous of it, but she did wish it for herself. And she was around Lucy and Sadie often enough to try.

It’s just hard to squeeze your way between people who know each other so well … people who talk about the world together, even when it’s bigger than the both of them.

High school was a long time ago, and the more Steph thinks about it, college wasn’t yesterday. She talks amiably with people she knows, but just like when she was seventeen at St. Catherine’s, she’s lonely. This time, she doesn’t even have Sam to keep her company.

So, when she miscarries what could have been Charlie Doyle’s baby in the middle of February, she takes it as a sign to see Sadie again.

Maybe it’s morbid. Steph figures it probably is. But she was willing to have, hold, and raise a baby that would have been Sam’s nephew or niece, just to say she held onto a little piece of the Doyle family … the family that always made her feel welcome, even when she didn’t trust her own limbs. And maybe that wasn’t the way to do it. Something tells her, though, that she’ll always be welcome with Sadie. That she was probably welcome when she was fifteen, and she was just too awkward to know it.

When Sadie agrees to meet for coffee on the day after Valentine’s Day, the two of them sit in the shop and talk for hours, making up for all the time Steph spent too nervous to sit down next to her and Lucy in the St. Catherine’s cafeteria. In the evening, when it’s finally time for Sadie to get back home to Daniel and the kids, they make plans to meet up for lunch on the following Saturday. And when Sadie hugs her, Steph feels like a piece of the sky.

Let the kindling begin.

(part of @nosebleedclub january challenge -- day v!)

[anonymous-user-a]

Memory Unlocked: Recruitment

Archer wasn't the kind of kid to go on a grand Pokémon journey. At fifteen, the only Pokémon that he'd caught was a Zubat that had yet to even evolve into a Golbat after nearly five years. Most actual trainers could defeat him; those who couldn't clearly pitied him. Furthermore, he wasn't particularly good at travelling - always packing far too little or far too much. To be honest, he wasn't even particularly pleasant to be around. It was as if he was the opposite of all the traits that a Pokémon journey is supposed to bring out in children. Independence, adventure, kindness. Still, for some reason, Archer found himself travelling halfway across Johto with nothing but a Zubat, an old Poryphone, and a message telling him that it is urgent.

The message was from Ariana, of all people. She was rarely one to ask for help, being very capable of getting her way out of any situation she found herself in. But considering how long they'd been friends for, it was no surprise that Archer dropped everything for whatever Ariana needed him for; he wasn't particularly kind, but he most certainly was loyal. The concern mounted when the only response Archer had managed to get after calling and messaging several times was "We can't talk about this over the phone. You know where I am". After hearing that, he'd simply started to rush to Ariana's home, only being around halfway packed for the trip ahead.

Owing to having barely packed anything at all, both Toxin and Archer were clearly in quite a poor condition by the time that Archer stumbled to the door. The Zubat was parched, draped over its trainer's shoulder. Archer wasn't doing much better, leaning on the front door. Johto wasn't known for its heat, being colder than a lot of regions, but it was most certainly hotter than Sinnoh - especially in the middle of summer. What didn't help was how he'd forgotten to bring any food or water. To put it bluntly, he was exhausted, hungry, and worried for Ariana. Whatever she needed, if it was both urgent enough that he needed to abandon everything and private enough that she couldn't explain over the phone, then it was in the perfect overlap to be terrible. And the trip was likely long enough to be too late.

After taking some deep breaths, Archer stood up straight and knocked on the door. His impromtu journey across the region had left him looking worse than usual. It was unfortunate, as Archer had always prided himself on looking formal and secure. However, considering he had just ran halfway across the entire region on foot, there was very little that he could have done about it. Part of him supposes it would have been better, if it weren't for the fact that the man who answered the door was wearing a sophisticated black suit.

Archer didn't exactly distrust Giovanni; anyone who Ariana trusted, Archer would as well. Giovanni was also quite good to the both of them - he'd make them both lunch, he'd help ethically get Toxin some blood, and he'd even gotten Ariana her own Pokemon, an Ekans. In all honesty, Archer had no reason to feel so anxious when Giovanni looked him up and down, even if it did feel like some sort of silent and judgemental inspection. Despite knowing this, the unreadable expression on Giovanni's face only caused discomfort - unable to tell if he was disappointed, humoured, or if this was exactly what he had expected. He held the door open, his tone just as unreadable, "Please, come in. Take a seat, it must have been quite an ordeal to get here."

As directed, Archer stepped inside the house, primarily looking for Ariana. He cleared his throat, attempting to be polite and formal, "I was told that there was something urgent here... Is everything alright?"

Giovanni ushered him into the main room, "Everything is alright, we would just like to talk to you about something very important..." In the center of the room, there was a small, round table - three chairs were around it. Two of the chairs were practically right next to each other; the last one was opposite them. Ariana was sitting on one of the closer chairs, Giovanni sat on the other, and Archer sat on the last chair opposite the other two. A glass of water with ice was already on the table, closest to Archer. He stared at it. To the side, a baby blue box.

Frowning, Ariana gestured to the glass, "Are you waiting for an invitation? Drink it. It's yours." Of course, Archer did as she said, thirsty and exhausted. A simple glass of cold water had never tasted so delicious before. Toxin chewed on the leftover ice to cool down before being returned to its Pokeball.

When Archer was done, Giovanni spoke, "I sincerely apologise that we could not have told you through digital means. However, this is highly sensitive information. We cannot have it accessible to anyone outside of this room. No matter how this conversation goes, you cannot tell anyone that we had it. Understood?" Giovanni's tone compelled Archer to agree. "Good. Now..."

Giovanni leaded forward in his seat, Ariana giving him nothing more than a resigned glare. His eyes were fixed on Archer, like predator closing in on its prey, his hands on the table and clasped together.

"Do you know of an organisation by the name of Team Rocket?"

Archer stepped out of Giovanni's car - it was a very nice vehicle, that was sure. He thanked Giovanni for the ride home and went inside. The moment that he was inside, he excitedly opened the baby blue box.

Inside was a dark grey uniform with a hat, belt, trousers, and shirt - all perfectly Archer's size. At the center of the box, the crown jewel looking up at the new hire as he opened it, was the shirt. Perfectly embroidered into the fabric, standing out above all else, was a vivid red R.

[toomanysurveys9]

it's been awhile.

1. Who was the last person you forgave? How long did it take you to forgive them? Probably Jacob. He's kind of been an asshole lately, although I haven't exactly been a walk in the park either.

2. Is going mushroom hunting in the woods something that would interest you? Can't say that it is.

3. What is your favorite junk food? How about your favorite health food? Favorite junk food is probably cheesecake or ice cream lately. Favorite health food is probably fruit lately. I've really been wanting watermelon.

4. Are you listening to anything right now? Do you normally listen to music while you take surveys? Not currently, no.

5. What were you doing the last time you hung out with a friend? Uhhh. Just hung out and talked I guess. It was Jacob's sister and her boyfriend(?)/the father of her baby.

6. Is there anything about you that might cause others to dislike you? People complain I'm too quiet a lot. And have my entire life. I sometimes think that makes them think I'm stuck up or something.

7. Is there anything you’re really particular or specific about, anything that has to be done a certain way every time? I don't know these days. I'm pretty particular about my kids and how people care for them if that counts?

8. Are there any chores you need to get done today? I really need to put my family's laundry away. Again. But that will probably have to wait until tomorrow.

9. Where was the last place you went shopping and what did you buy? Uhm. I guess it was Walmart. I bought Jacob snacks that he wanted and a few things to take for lunch for me this week to go with my dad's chili.

10. What was the last big change you made to your physical appearance? Well, I'm almost 24 weeks pregnant with our fourth baby so there's that. That's a pretty big physical change.

11. Are you more likely to shut people out of your life or try to fix things no matter what? I definitely do both depending on who it is and the situation.

12. Where was the last place you went out to eat? Is going out something you enjoy or would you rather cook at home? Jake and I went to Chili's on Saturday night. We were supposed to go to Olive Garden with our littles, but he ditched us because evidently, he had to help someone with their car instead. By the time he was done, our babies had eaten but I had not yet.

13. If you have any pets, do they seem to notice when you’re sick or sad? I have two dogs and a cat and I think they absolutely notice. They are always more cuddly and protective.

15. Is anything you’ve done lately going to matter in a year?   I hope so. I'm currently in the internship portion of grad school (which isn't going super stellar, but it is what it is) but hopefully it leads to me finishing my degree and becoming a therapist.

16. What was the subject of your last phone call? Jake was asking where Wyatt's medicine was because he actually helped me with the kiddos a little bit this morning.

17. Are your hobbies something you’d rather do alone or with others? I feel like most of my hobbies are ones I prefer doing alone, such as reading or watching TV. However, if my kiddos want to cuddle me while I read or watch TV, I definitely won't complain.

18. Is there anything about yourself that you’re trying to improve? I have plans to improve my overall health, especially after little girl is born.

19. What are you doing today? I got Eliana up and ready for preschool, and then took Wyatt to his school after I got him around. Obviously got myself around after I got them around, and I went to work until 2 today after dropping Wyatt off at school. Then I picked Wyatt off and dropped him off at home before coming to my internship site because they are having me shadow/provide co-therapy with another therapist here. I have one more client (on my own via telehealth) from 6:30-7:30 pm and then I need to stop by the store on my way home to get new headphones for Wyatt for school. When I get home, I'll probably eat a bowl of cereal and throw laundry in the washer, and then go to bed. Because tomorrow will be another busy day with getting kiddos up and where they need to be, work, OB appointment (have to do my glucose test), putting laundry away, and then supervision through my school from 8:30 pm until 11 pm. I can't wait to be done with school.

20. What did you dream about last night? I don’t remember.

21. When was the last time you visited relatives? Do you see extended family often? We visited my brother Saturday night and ended up spending the night and spent all day Sunday at his house too. Which is nice because we haven't really got to do that in so long with his work schedule as an EMT.

22. What was the last relaxing thing you did? I took a nap in my office before the co-therapy appointment. It wasn't very comfortable, but I needed the sleep.

23. Will this weekend be better than last weekend? I doubt it. I have a presentation to put together to present next Tuesday.

24. When was the last time you were there for a friend? I was there for my sister this weekend if that counts... and my parents too.

25. Do you have any jewelry you almost never take off? My suicide awareness bracelet for Justin.

26. What are some of your favorite words? I don't know.

27. Do you have any journals from when you were younger? If so, do you ever go back and read them? I probably do. But I don't think I would want to read them again.

28. Are there any holidays you used to celebrate, but no longer do? Not really.

29. What was the last occasion for which you dressed up? I don't remember. I don't dress up very often.

30. Is there anything you wish you could say to anyone? Oh yeah. A lot of things to quite a few people.

[simmiesapphire]

BV - Jacquet - Round 1

Today we play with the Jacquets in Bluewater Village. (I started playing with Delarosa, but the game glitched and she couldn't use her bed, so I put it in time out).

The Jacquets live on 223 Idlewild Street. From the game info -

"The Jacquets left everything they had behind and tried to build a new life in Bluewater Village. Will they go from rags to riches and create a healthy franchise system that goes public? Or will they fail and watch their dreams crumble like a week old croissant?"

So they own a bakery maybe?

Let's go find out...

There seems to be no business attached to the house. It's just a little family home.

Here is Denise Jacquet. She was married to Yves Jacquet and is now widowed. She doesn't have many memories except for those she created when she met Chester Gieke in Pleasantview on a previous round. She seems to be friends with Chester, and enemies with Darren Dreamer after losing a fight with him. Her game-given LTW is to be a criminal mastermind, but I changed that to earn 100,000 simoleans to match her fortune aspiration

Denise's son Gilbert is a romance sim. He has a crush on Ericka Hogan and Jennifer Ying, even though he's not turned on by her. He fancies himself a casanova and wants to have 20 simultaneous lovers. Probably fancies himself a Don Lothario.

Welcome wagon is here, and Denise, ever the hostess with the mostest makes them a healthy chef salad lunch.

Gilbert entertains the Tinkers by proposing an open relationship - which did not go down well.

Checko Ramirez was the life of the party with his piano playing.

All of the gaiety made Denise nostalgic for her friend Chester. She invited him over - Chester is the son she never had... er... the kind of son she never had. Or maybe she has a deviant plan of hooking her good-for-nothing casanova son with a good boy like Chester. Maybe that will get Gilbert over his ridiculous notion of taking Wanda Tinker as a lover.

Denise puts her plan in motion. She makes dinner and clears out to go "relax" on her bed. Without her present, Gilbert and Chester have dinner and hang out, sharing secrets.

The next morning Gilbert calls Chester to ask him out on a date, but is rejected :(

To lick his wounds, Gilbert decides maybe being friends with Stephen Tinker is a better idea... Is he plotting to worm his way into the Tinkers' so that he can get in Wanda's pants?

After making friends with Stephen Tinker, Gilbert decides the idele life is not for him - he finds a job in the Slacker career and is immediately promoted to Gas Station Attendant... Now he can bring in the big bucks. Meanwhile Denise comes out of retirement and start providing financial consulting services. It's not like their in dire straits or anything - their investments are doing well. But she has to find a way to spend her time...seeing that Chester isn't always available to drop everything and come over.

After many failed attempts to ask Chester out, Gilbert finally managed to get him on the phone and invited him over. It seems though that Chester isn't comfortable being alone with Gilbert - he brought a friend with him!

Well something went right, because they finally ended up kissing...

They ended up woohooing after moving the furniture around to allow for accessibility (I don't think I set my ACR mod to work with Inaccessible Beds...) - without realizing that Denise was right outside on the porch with her telescope... gazing at the "stars"... right..

The next day Gilbert wants to go on a date so he calls... Ericka Hogan. Yes, Ericka Hogan who has moved in with one of the Caliente sisters (from a previous round). Hmmm - let's see if it goes anywhere...

Well, things seem to be going better than expected for Gilbert. Ericka is super-receptive. The date is amazing... and Gilbert falls in love with Ericka.

Denise catches them getting jiggy-with-it. But then decides to let them play while she practices the piano. Kids these days - you can't tell them anything...

That's where we will leave the Jacquet's for now. It's Thursday night of Round 1. I typically play a family until Sunday night, so we'll be back to them the next time.

[cobaltleaf]

College was hard. I couldn’t leave my dorm, I couldn’t go to class. I forgot how to talk to people, I wasn’t making friends. I got this email saying I was on academic probation. I didn’t even get to drop out, they kicked me out. So I went back home. It was just me and my mom. The house was empty. The dining room had become a storage closet, the table was covered in unopened letters and envelopes. Half of the letters were for the gallery, addressed to my dad. Unpaid bills, unsigned notices, collection fees. I guess he never updated the gallery with his New York residence. And it’s not like money was a problem for him. That was something we always had. He was just doing what he always did, leaving other people to clean up his mess. I didn’t see him much growing up. My mom and him divorced when I was young. After a few weeks at home I asked her about the notices. She told me they started coming in while I was in school and eventually she just stopped opening them. I thought about calling him, but I didn’t really have that kind of relationship with him. He had his own life. Instead, I called the other owner, Mark. I’ve known Mark since I was a kid. He was so excited when I called. I asked him what was going on with my dad and the gallery. He didn’t say much over the phone but he invited me to come down and have lunch.

So I drove down to L.A. I rented out this shitty motel and stayed in a smoker’s room. I felt so cool. I remember I got a pack of cigarettes just to smoke on the bed. I barely got through a cigarette before I got nauseous. I was such a dweeb. But for maybe the first time in my whole life, I felt like everything was going to be ok.

When I met with Mark, he told me what I already knew. My dad hadn’t been to the gallery in almost a decade, and he had no interest in what was going on with it. He did however close one of his bank accounts that was tied to a rental piece in the gallery. It took a few months but Mark eventually figured it out. I offered to reimburse him but he just looked at me and said “I’m in his debt, not the other way around.” I spent the month hanging out at the gallery with Mark. I researched artists, mapped out where their work was being displayed, I sat in lectures at different art schools and spoke with students. I met this one kid who designed the craziest sculptures. His notebook was full of crazy insane doodles. I told Mark we needed to display his stuff and Mark was just like, down. After that, I never looked back. 

I don’t know what else to call it other than luck. You grow up hearing people talk about ‘the dream’. After my first year at the gallery, we hosted a solo exhibit in Tulum with one of our artists, Silo. There was ketamine, MDMA, sandy beaches. I remember sitting on the rooftop watching the sunset, Mark was sunburnt, drinking a beer with a Cubs cap on. I looked out at the white haze before me. And in that moment I knew was living it. That dream people always talk about.

And then, two years ago I got a call from my uncle. It was a sunny afternoon in August. When I picked up the phone, all I heard was wheezing and gagging. He could barely get the words out. My dad. He killed himself. My whole world, I collapsed. I know I wasn’t close with my dad. I spent my life learning to accept that. And it’s so naive to say, and it’s hard for me to even admit, but I really believed that one day, he was just going to knock on my door and like, want to be my dad.