#yeah i have a secret guitar that i play when my uncle isn’t home

[alithetiredartist]

not to be overdramatic but in my willow centric human au the emerald entrails are a band

[yournowheregirl]

welp, this one has gotten out of hand (over 3k... yikes) but here we are! part 3 of the secret-dolly-parton-fan eddie munson saga (only 2 more parts after this!) 

[part 1] [part 2] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6 + complete on ao3]

part 3: coat of many colors

Only a few weeks later, Eddie starts to slip up.

Any other day he’d wake up to the sweet, sweet sounds of his favorite Dio album, but one morning he grabs an old Johnny Cash album that Wayne sometimes listens to and puts that one on instead. 

It’s nice, and even though it’s apparently recorded at an actual prison, it still feels like home (Eddie tries not to think about that too much).

On a late night when Wayne’s still at work, he fishes his old acoustic guitar from underneath his bed and starts strumming away random chords that sound like the country songs his momma played when he was little. Sometimes he still remembers the lyrics, softly mumbling them even though there’s no one around to hear them. 

It’s nice, it doesn’t sound as sweet as when his momma played it for him, but it still feels like home (Eddie actually thinks about it a lot this time).

And it’s not like he’s abandoned his usual music or anything. He still has his Judas Priest tapes in the van because his driving would probably even more reckless if he drove without any music (and isn’t that saying something). And he still loves his sweetheart more than anything, she just has to deal with sharing him for a bit.

Not a lot of many people notice it, at first. Mostly because he still keeps that part of himself hidden, safely tucked away in the comfort of his own bedroom. 

But Wayne notices, because of course does.

“Whatcha wearin’ there, son?” Wayne asks, never looking up from where his eyes are glued to the morning newspaper. 

Eddie’s halfway out the door already, car keys jingling against his rings when his uncle speaks up, turns around in the doorway. “Uh…” 

He looks down at his clothes - what is he wearing anyway? Ripped jeans - all fine, nothing new. White t-shirt - okay, not his usual color but not that strange. Forest green plaid button down and beat-up leather boots that both actually belonged to Wayne at one point - yeah, that must be it. 

“Yeah, I mean I know they’re yours… You want them back or somethin’?”

Wayne chuckles and closes the newspaper, leaning back in his chair. “No, no. Not at all. Just surprised you’re wearing it. Ain’t you meetin’ the kids?”

“Uh, yeah?” Eddie frowns. “Should I… not be wearing this?”

“Wear whatever you want.” Wayne shrugs. “It’s just nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah, nice. Nice to see you bein’ comfortable wearing that sorta thing again.” Wayne says. “Lord knows you wouldn’t be caught dead in it years ago.”

Eddie thinks back to when he first came to Hawkins, with an almost empty suitcase and ratty old teddy-bear in his hand. He didn’t have any clothes that were fit for the cold Novembers in Hawkins, more used to the mild Tennessee winters, so Wayne did the best he could and dressed him up in the warmest thing he had on hand at the time. A warm, blue flannel that Eddie’s small frame almost drowned in.

Not that he cared about it at that point. He only cared about how warm and soft it felt.

Which was fine up until the point that the other kids at school started caring about their clothes and how they looked and they started laughing at Eddie’s clothes. Making fun of how poor he was that he couldn’t even afford a decent sized shirt. Teasing him in the locker room about the holes in his socks. 

He decided then and there to swear off all the clothes Wayne picked out for him and changed his style up completely. His classmates were gonna bully him anyway, but he’d be damned if they insulted Wayne in the process. 

“Well, yeah. Guess I’m goin’ back to my roots.” Eddie shrugs.

“Noticed that as well.” Wayne is smirking now, way too pleased about the whole situation and gestures to his mouth. “Your accent, Ed. Any minute now and you’ll be talkin’ like Miss Parton herself.”

Eddie’s face heats up - if only Wayne knew what he’s been up to in his spare time “Shut up, old man. You’re gonna make me late.”

He drives a little faster than normal to the Wheeler’s house, because Wayne really did keep him a few minutes too long, but he still ends up relatively on time for Mike’s birthday party. Everyone’s already in the decorated basement (balloons and garlands and all) and Mrs. Wheeler is snapping pictures left and right, much to Mike’s obvious dismay.

Mike’s face does light up when Eddie comes stumbling down the basement, present in hand.

“Happy Birthday, mini Wheeler.” Eddie says, ruffling his hair.

“Hey, not fair! We were friends way before you befriended my sister.” Mike sighs.

“Eddie’s just got good taste.” Nancy smirks before turning back to her conversation with Max and El.

“She said it, not me.” Eddie laughs. “Now open your present.”

He’d bought Mike this older copy of a D&D manual. It’s a first edition that Eddie randomly found one day in a thrift store and considering the grin on Mike’s face, Eddie knows he made the right decision. 

Behind them on the table there’s a bunch of already-opened presents but one sticks out to Eddie - a beautifully depiction of the Party members, including El and Max, painted onto a notebook.

“Nice notebook.”

“Isn’t it the coolest? Will made it for me.” Mike gushes. “He always knows what kind of present to get me. He’s such a good friend.”

Eddie bites back a laugh. Poor Mike, so tragically oblivious to what’s staring right in front of him, bowl-cut and heart-eyes and all. But since he can’t actually laugh Mike in the face, he just smirks and pats Mike on the shoulder.

“Oh Michael… Bless your tiny lil’ heart.” 

Mike just beams at him, once again blissfully unaware of the little back-handed compliment that just escaped Eddie’s Tennessee mouth and runs off again to join the party. Not noticing a thing.

But apparently someone does.

“What was that?” Steve asks from where he’s standing behind Eddie.

“What was what?” Eddie replies automatically. He doesn’t turn around just yet, slightly terrified to find out Steve’s reaction. Not there’s any malice to be heard in his voice, but Eddie’s learned to be careful even when everything seems to be safe.

“That… the whole bless your heart thing.”

“That’s a just saying.” Eddie shrugs.

“But the accent… where did that come from?” Steve stammers.

That comment finally makes Eddie turn around only to find Steve staring at him, jaw slacked and cheeks tickled pink. And well, isn’t that interesting. 

Eddie grins as he takes a step closer to Steve, head cocked to the side. “Didn’t you know? I ain’t from around here.” He’s really laying the accent on thick this time, just to see how Steve will react. 

It pays off beautifully because Steve just stares at him again, his face turning an even deeper shade of pink that contrast with the tight yellow t-shirt he’s wearing. Eddie’s stomach bubbles with giddiness at the sudden power he’s holding over Steve, making him all flustered like this.

God, he really shouldn’t be flirting with his very-much-straight crush but it just feels so good.

“Where- where are you from then?” Steve clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“Tennessee, baby. Born ’n raised.” 

Steve opens his mouth and closes it again, does it a couple of times actually, like he’s a goddamn guppy. It’s, frankly, adorable and Eddie’s never wanted to kiss him more. He lowers his gaze, his hands moving through the air like he’s unsure what to do with that.

“I’m just… I’m just gonna talk to Robin for a sec. Be right back, okay?”

Eddie watches as Steve disappears in between the kids, sees how he frantically talks to Robin before dragging her upstairs, clearly in need some alone time.

Huh. Weird. 

-xxx-

Eddie comes clean about his roots to the rest of his friends a couple days later and to his surprise, no one really seems to bat an eye. Sure, there are few laughs here and there but it’s never bad. A couple of questions (mostly from El) about where he grew up and that’s that.

Or so he thinks.

Because he also told Steve, Robin and Nancy about the fact that there’s a country bar just a couple miles from Hawkins and that he’s being going there almost every week just to feel a little at home again. And now, they obviously want to come with. 

Eddie’s feeling slightly nervous about it - this is still on a whole other level than just wearing one of Wayne’s flannels and bringing out his drawl every once in a while. This is about who he is, how he was raised, and he’s not really sure how things’ll go down if his friends react weirdly about it.

Pat is surprised to say the least when Eddie strolls into the Off-Road next Wednesday with Robin, Nancy and Steve in tow. Robin swore up and down that they should dress the part even though Eddie told her it wasn’t necessary, but there they are anyway, plaid shirts and all. 

It’s slightly embarrassing to be honest, but Robin seems to enjoy making him suffer (well, that was until Nancy took off her plaid shirt and tied it around her waist to show off her tight black dress underneath and Robin almost had an aneurysm. Ha, how’s that for payback?). And besides, Steve’s looking unfairly hot in that light blue flannel so who’s Eddie to complain?

“Well, well, well. Looks like you got some friends after all, Ed.” Pat grins. “Welcome y’all.”

After Eddie introduces everyone, Robin starts talking Pat’s ear off, overjoyed with the fact that she’s finally meeting another queer woman, asking her all kinds of questions about growing up queer and how she met Tish. Eddie smiles, feeling happy for his friend. 

On the other side of the bar, Steve and Nancy are hunched over the jukebox, arguing about the next song to play.

“Is that him?” Tish asks as she puts down his beer - Eddie figures he might as well take advantage of the fact that Nancy’s driving tonight. She nods to where Steve is clearly losing the argument with Nancy. The way he’s bending over the jukebox in those tight Levi’s is making his ass look insane and Eddie lets out a strangled sound.

“Yeah, that’s him alright.”

Tish lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Eddie. You’re screwed.”

“Why, geez. Thanks for that boost of confidence, Tish.”

Tish just winks at him and disappears back into the kitchen. Eddie just sits and sulks for a bit, head rocking along to the song that Nancy picked out until Robin suddenly slides into view, eyes filled with mischief that Eddie doesn’t care for one bit.

“So… A little birdie told me you’ve been singing Dolly Parton songs here on the regular.” Robin says in a sing-song voice.

Damn Pat and her blabber mouth.

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “And what about it, Buckley?”

“Nothing! Just wondering if you might wanna play a song for us tonight?” Robin asks. She clasps her hands together and pouts when Eddie rolls his eyes at her. “Please? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“And how exactly do you propose to do that?”

“Well… I can’t really say. Not yet anyway.” Robin smiles awkwardly. “But I promise you’ll be happy about it once it works out. Please?”

Eddie sighs - he’s never really been able to resist someone begging and he’s not gonna start now. He finishes his beer in one swig and makes his way over to the stage, taking the now-familiar acoustic guitar from the wall.

His friends sit down at a table close to the stage, staring at him with eager excitement as Eddie tries to think of a song to play. He feels strangely nervous. They had seen him play before, been to a few of Corroded Coffin gigs and he even sang the Beatles’ Blackbird for Nancy’s birthday but this still feels scarier, more intimate. 

And the thing is, he can’t really go with one of the songs he played her before because one wrong look in Steve’s direction and he’d be fucked for life. Or even worse, a love song - that’d make for a real awkward evening. So, he finally settles on a song that’s neither of those, but still a song that’s very close to his heart.

“Back through the years, I go wonderin’ once again. Back to the seasons of my youth…” Eddie sings softly, though his drawl rolls out of him with full force. 

He can’t help it, it’s the only way he knows how to sing this song because it’s the way his momma sang it to him every night before going to bed. Tucking him in tightly underneath the duvet, covering his face with kisses until he couldn’t stop giggling. Her voice soft and warm as she sang him to sleep.

“There were rags of many colors, every piece was small. And I didn’t have a coat and it was way down in the fall. Mama sewed the rags together, sewin’ every piece with love. She made my coat of many colors, that I was so proud of.”

He thinks of Wayne. Thinks of the clothes Wayne gave him while growing up. How he wore them to school with pride, excited to have clothes to call his own. To have a home and someone taking care of him, not because Wayne had to but because he wanted to. 

“So with patches on my britches and in holes in both my shoes, in my coat of many colors, I hurried off to school. Just to find the others laughing and are making of fun of me, in my coat of many colors my mama made for me.”

Thinks of his classmates laughing at his accent, at the way he dressed, at his amazement of seeing snow for the very first time. Remembers going home to Wayne with tears in his eyes, stuffing his plaid shirts into the deepest corner of his closet and trading it for plain black tees instead. Remembers staying up late when Wayne was at work to practice his speech pattern by watching old tv-shows and repeating the lines. 

Looks up at his friends. Realizes how he’s showcasing all those parts he hid away for years and is for once, rewarded for it. They’re listening intently, proud smiles on their faces. Nancy and Robin are leaning against each other, their fingers finding their way to one another.

Glances over at Steve, whose hands are folded underneath his chin as he looks at Eddie with a gentle smile, his eyes soft and almost like honey underneath the warm ceiling lights of the bar. He barely blinks, eyes glued to Eddie and Eddie only. It’s a bit distracting, if Eddie’s being honest. He feels his cheeks heat up and he almost misses a chord at one point, realizing then and there why he didn’t pick a love song in the first place. 

He needs to sing, not melt into a puddle of goo underneath Steve’s gaze, goddammit.

“Now I know we had no money, but I was rich as I could be. In my coat of many colors, my mama made for me. Made just for me…”

The song softly fades away and Eddie mumbles a quick thanks into the microphone as his friends and the rest of the the bar burst out into applause. He shuffles over to the table  where he’s met with Robin and Nancy beaming at him and pulling him into a tight hug.

“That was so good.” Nancy gushes.

“Yeah, it was amazing! You should switch music genres, if I’m honest.” Robin nods. “Change Corroded Coffin’s name into Corroded Cowboy or something.”

Eddie chuckles. “Not sure if the guys are gonna like that. But thanks, girls. Means a lot.”

Steve stays strangely quiet in between Robin and Nancy’s stream of compliments, just fiddling with the coaster in between his fingers. It’s not until Nancy drags Robin to the dance floor when an upbeat song starts playing and Eddie slides into one of the empty seats they left behind, that Steve speaks up.

“You have a really nice voice, you know that?” 

He says it so softly that Eddie can barely hear him over the bluegrass music on the speakers. Still, it’s enough for Eddie’s cheeks to flush pink.

“Thanks.” Eddie replies, ducking his head to prevent Steve from seeing his flushed face. 

“Seriously, man.” Steve says. “Think about Robin said. I mean, I love hearing you sing and scream about the world’s injustices with Corroded Coffin as much as the next person but…”

Eddie’s heart starts beating out of his chest because holy fuck, Steve loves hearing him sing, Steve loves hearing him sing, Steve loves hearing him sing.

“But these songs seem to come so natural to you, y’know?” Steve glances up to meet Eddie’s eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. “You make it seem so…”

“Easy?” Eddie supplies.

Steve smiles and there’s something in his eyes that Eddie can’t quite decipher. A secret that only Steve seems to know. “Yeah, exactly. Easy.”

Eddie feels the flush on his face deepen underneath Steve’s gaze and he needs a way out before he starts doing something incredibly stupid like drag him to the bathroom just to see what happens when he calls Steve darlin’. 

“You want a refill?” Eddie says quickly, gesturing towards the empty beer bottle on the table. “My treat.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, Eddie.”

The sound of his own name rolling off Steve’s tongue almost makes Eddie  stumbles as he stands up  makes his way towards the bar. Smooth, Munson, real fuckin’ smooth.

“Two beers please.” Eddie tells Pat, drumming his ring-adorned hands on the faded wood of the bar.

“Here ya go.” Pat says, handing him the drinks. Eddie’s about to turn back, when she stops him. “Ed, I don’t mean to mess with your head or anythin’… But are ya sure that boy’s straight?”

Eddie snorts. “What’d you mean? ‘Course he is.”

“Well, I won’t be so sure about that, kiddo.” Pat says with a knowing smile. “I’ve been seein’ the way he looks at you tonight and well… let’s just say it’s the same way I look at Tish every morning I wake up next to her.”

Eddie looks up to where Steve’s chatting with Jack, one of the older regulars who’s an actually banjo player in his spare time. He just watches them for a minute, a soft smile playing around his lips, the one he always gets when he’s looking at Steve. 

Steve looks up and their eyes meet, a bright smile appearing on his face as he wiggles his hands in the air to wave at Eddie. He seems so happy and he’s never looked more beautiful. 

Christ, Eddie’s so in love with him.

“That. That look right there. No one looks at their platonic friend like that. Not when there are other feelings involved.” Pat says firmly. “You might wanna start re-thinkin’ this whole situation, Ed.” She adds cryptically and returns to where she’s drying off another glass.

A tingly feeling spreads all over Eddie’s body, a shiver running up his spine. It should feel nice, it does feel nice, but at the same time Eddie knows it’s actually the worst feeling in the world.

Hope. 

tag list: 

@solosnail @gothbat99 @unclewaynemunson @legitcookie @henderdads @goblin-eddie @trikigirl271 @alienace @stevethehairington @blank1eboi @fruitandbubbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @stereoteleversion @wrenisflying @spectrum-spectre @hotluncheddie @punkharringtxn @remislupinisthevoiceofgod @panicatthediaz @thegingervulcan @sharkruption @goodolefashionedloverboi @thelastwalkingsoul @undreamingscatworld @magpiemuseum @mightbeasleep @maya-custodios-dionach @theokatz @this-earlobe-is-naked

[bqstqnbruin]

Teach me something 4

I’m sad Calgary went home but at least the Blues did, too. 

ANYWAY here’s the last part of Teach me something (unless I think of something else to write about), and let me tell you, this is s o f t Matthew (in my opinion)

The song at the end is called Fathers and Sons from Working: the musical

I hope you like it!

Read the other parts:  part 1// part 2 // part 3 _______________________

“One last thing before the bell this is going to be really quick so I need everyone’s eyes on me,” you spit out in one breath, “I posted the homework problems online on Hess’s Law and those are due next class so please make sure you do them!” You managed to get everyone out, praying that all your students actually listened to what you said. 

Making a mental note to send out an email to the class, your students rush out the door and on their way to lunch. Trying to set up quickly before you had your next class, you hear, “Hey, mom?” coming from behind you. Your son, Oliver, is standing in the doorway, a worried look on his face. 

“Hi, Ollie. Do me a favor, get out the hot plates from under these cabinets and put two on each bench, ok?” He puts his bag down by your desk, bending down to help you out with what you need. 

“Mom?” he asks again.

“Ollie.”

  “Does Dad know what we’re going to tonight?” 

“Well, that depends. Did you tell your father?” 

“No. I thought you did.”

“Oliver, I told you. You were the one who wanted to do this, and you asked me not to tell Dad, so I kept my word. If you want to tell him before we leave tonight, then that’s up to you.” You look over at your son, just standing there in staring at a hot plate. His curly hair just like Matthew’s, the same eye shape, but your eye color, built like his father, but not as much of a pest. 

“What if he doesn’t like that I’m doing this because it isn’t hockey related?” 

You let out a little chuckle at how nervous your son was. You couldn’t help it. “Your father wants nothing more than for you to be happy. He doesn’t care what you do to get there. If you want to tell him before we leave, then that’s up to you, just know that I’m driving either way and we have to pick up Tessa from her swim practice so she’s going to smell like chlorine.”

“Mom, he’s going to think it’s dumb!” Oliver whines, sitting down on one of the stools.

“If he says it is then you tell him it’s dumb that his mouthguard was never in his mouth when he played. How your father even still has teeth is beyond me,” you say, sitting down next to your son with your lunch. If he was going to talk during your lunch period, he might as well eat with you.

“Mom!” he whines again, getting his own lunch out. 

You stare at your son as you chew on the sandwich Matthew had made for you the night before. You couldn’t believe your baby boy was a freshman in high school already, let alone worrying about what his dad would think of tonight. “Is this something that you’re proud of?” 

“Yeah,” he says, staring at his own sandwich.

“Then, bub, your father is going to be happy. Dad doesn’t care how you get there,” you tell him, ruffling his hair, “As long as it doesn’t end up with you in jail.” 

He laughs, swatting your hand away from his hair. “I just hope I don’t mess up.” 

“I won’t care if you do,” you shrug.

“And you already have your tickets?” 

“Ten seconds after they went on sale I got three of them.”

“And Aunt Rory will be there?” 

“Aunt Rory will be there with Uncle Logan.”

“What about Uncle Johnny?” he asks, talking about his godfather, Matthew’s old teammate.

“Everyone who you asked to be there will be there. And if they aren’t then I will personally drag them by the ear for another night and make them pay for my ticket.” He laughs, thinking you’re joking. When he realizes you’re not, his eyes go wide.

“And none of them have told Dad?” 

You can’t help but laugh at his worry. Even he has to know it’s just nervousness for tonight. “I told everyone that if they told your father then we would no longer associate ourselves with them.” 

“Mom! Isn’t Aunt Rory Tessa’s godmother?” 

“Yeah, and Uncle Johnny is your godfather, what’s your point?”

“Can you do that?”

“I can and I will if someone disappoints my son. Don’t think your father wouldn’t do the same. But you gotta get going! The bell’s going to ring and you have French on the other side of the school,” you tell him, trying to ruffle his hair again.

  “I’ll see you tonight?” 

“Bye, bub,” you say, kissing his head before he runs out the door.

The rest of the school day goes by with every free minute having your mind occupying by Oliver’s worry over Matthew’s opinion. It’s not like Oliver was giving up hockey for this; he was doing it in addition. Plus, if Oliver wanted to stop hockey and do this with his life, you were going to support him, whether Matthew liked it or not. 

You get home before Matthew, patiently waiting until you had to go get Tessa from her swim practice, making dinner for the two of you, putting some aside for your daughter to scarf down while you were in the car. “Babe, I’m home!” Matthew calls right as you finish the food.

“Good timing!” you say as he kisses you hello, taking off his suit jacket. Now that he was a retired player, the Flames had him doing things in the front office. What exactly he did, you weren’t sure, but frankly, you were too scared to ask at this point. “We have to hurry up: Tessa is done with practice in half an hour and then we have to get over to the high school for Oliver.” 

“Is Oliver’s practice bag still in your car?” Matthew asks, sitting down with you to eat your first dinner alone in what was probably months. You look at him, pretending to think if it was. He probably thought that Oliver had a game tonight. “Ollie brought it to school with him today, I think.” 

Matthew just shrugs, seeing to buy it. The two of you eat a fast dinner, remembering to grab food for Tessa. Oliver had said they were having pizza tonight together, so you didn’t need to worry about him. You just to worry about Matthew.

The two of you run out of the door on your way to get Tessa, Matthew grabbing one of his old Flames jackets on the way out. He loved seeing his son playing hockey, it took him back to the time when he did, just like his dad used to watch him and Brady. You felt bad lying about Oliver having a game since he loved going to them so much, but this was Oliver’s secret that he wanted you to keep. 

Driving to the pool where Tessa had swim practice, Matthew couldn’t stop talking about something that was going on with the team. You tried to pay attention, but just like when you were talking to him about science, you had no clue what the other was saying. You filled it his breaks in speech with “That’s nice, honey,” and “Oh, interesting.” He knew you didn’t understand anything, but you let him talk anyway because it made him happy. 

“Hi, mom, hi dad,” Tessa says, bouncing into the car. Matthew hands her the food you made for her, not saying anything as she snatches it and starts diving in.

  “So how’s my little barracuda?” Matthew asks her, prompting an eye roll from his daughter.

“Dad, I told you, we’re just barracudas. We’re not little anymore, we’re 11.” 

“Yeah, no, not how this works,” Matthew says, “You’re my little girl until I die.” You can’t help but smile as Tessa groans, knowing how much Matthew loves your children. Oliver really didn’t have anything to worry about.

“Don’t be a pest, please, you aren’t on the ice,” you tease as you pull into the high school. 

“Are we picking up Oliver from here? I thought he was getting a ride from the rink?” How your husband thought anything is beyond you, but that wasn’t the issue right now. Tessa was doing everything she can not to burst out laughing at Matthew’s naivety. 

“No, we’re going in,” you say, getting out of the car. 

“Why?” 

“Babe, please, just trust me,” you say, dragging him into the school. 

“Why are we going in this way? The rink isn’t here.” Matthew whines, Tessa stifling a laugh. You were getting there just in time that you could sneak in as the doors were about to close, you may or may not have convinced a student into keeping the door open until you showed up. 

“Shush.” 

You find your seats, Rory, Logan, and Johnny all already there. 

“What are we doing here? What are you guys doing here?” All of you but Matthew knew what was about to happen, the other three just smiling and shrugging. “Y/N, aren’t we going to miss puck drop?”

You try your hardest not to laugh as the director steps out on stage to introduce what was about to happen, “Don’t worry, we won’t miss anything.”

“Hello and welcome to opening night of our show this year: Stephen Schwartz’s Working.” The audience starts to clap, Matthew looking more confused than anything. “We have a really great show tonight, including some freshman talent that we look forward to having for the next four years, our seniors that will be leaving us, and everyone else in between!” She goes on to say a little more, Matthew completely confused as to why you were there and not Oliver’s nonexistent hockey game. The show is short enough for there to be no intermission, which means that Matthew had no time to ask questions until after the show. 

Most of the show goes by, Matthew anxiously checking his watch for the puck drop that wasn’t going to happen. 

After about an hour, Oliver walks out on stage for the first time. You hear Matthew suck in his breath as he takes your hand in his. You look over at him, a smile on his face bigger than one you had ever seen, and Oliver hadn’t even done anything yet. He had no idea Oliver was in this, nor did he know what was about to happen. You rest your head on Matthew’s shoulder, Oliver swinging a guitar from his back to his front, you not even noticing he had it there in the first place. Neither of you knew if Oliver could even play guitar.

He starts strumming, goosebumps covering your skin as you get lost in the melody of the somber song he’s about to sing. Matthew could barely keep it together as his son started singing. “I hear a lotta songs say ‘where you goin’ my son?’ Now I know they’re true. Boy, you never stop to think how fast the years run, now they’re taking you.”

Listening to the song, Matthew thinks about the day Oliver was born. Fourteen years ago felt like yesterday, you sitting there in the hospital beaming down, Matthew remembering his heart stopping as soon as he held son, tears welling into his eyes, Oliver’s little hands reaching out to touch Matthew, opening his eyes and yawning immediately after; Matthew thinking that everything in that hospital room was all he could ever love, until Tessa came along, too. 

“I remember you was three ‘n’ a half, your ma and me, we’d sit there after things got quieted. We’d laugh at some new word you said, how tough you were to get to bed, and we’d plan the night away. Planning for your kid”

Those few nights when three-year-old Oliver and baby Tessa fell asleep at night at the same time, you and Matthew sitting on the couch, watching TV. You were so tired, the school year just getting into the swing of things, the hockey season about to pick up, after Oliver had that nasty fall that sent him to the hospital. He remembers you talking about an excited Oliver got seeing his daddy on TV, baby Tessa squealing as she copied her brother’s noises. Matthew sat there, listening to you, thinking about how he could never have pictured a better life.

“I was your hero then. I couldn’t do no wrong as far as you were concerned. You thought I was the best of men. The tables hadn’t turned, you hadn’t learned how little time it takes. And daddies make mistakes.” 

Matthew felt a tear escape from his eye, not even realizing that he felt so emotional over the song. He didn’t know if it was the fact that the song was about a father seeing his son grow up before his eyes, or that it was his own son sitting there singing. He knew Oliver didn’t have a perfect picture of his dad; hell, he watched his dad get in fights nearly ever game, probably knew every swear word that existed by the time he was seven. Matthew was the reason Oliver ended up in the hospital for the first time when he was three, all the other times after he had started playing hockey because Matthew did, and so did his dad. 

Oliver keeps singing, every line taking Matthew to another place in his own childhood or his life as a husband and a father. When he was younger, he thought his greatest accomplishments would be as a hockey player, but damn, he was wrong. It was this, right here. It was Oliver, Tessa, you, the life after hockey and the life inside your home. 

You hear Matthew sniffle, feeling him move a little. You look up at him, wiping a tear that had fallen down his cheek. You can’t help but smile, thinking of how happy Oliver will be that his father actually is proud of him. You sit up and kiss him on the cheek, setting back down on his shoulder as Oliver enters into a monologue, still strumming along on the guitar. 

“This may sound square, but my kid is my imprint, you know what I mean? This is why I work. Every time I see a smart young guy walkin’ by dressed real sharp, I’m lookin’ at my kid. You know what I want? I want my kid to tell me he’s not going to be like me. I want him to look at me and say, “Dad, you’re a nice guy, but you’re a freakin’ dummy.” Hell, yes. If you can’t improve yourself, you improve your posterity. Otherwise, life isn’t worth nothin’.”  Matthew doesn’t hear the rest of the song. He could previously count the number of times on one hand when he’s cried the way he was now: the night he proposed to you and you saying yes, both times you told him you were pregnant, and the first time he held Oliver and Tessa. He’s trying his hardest not to make any noise. He did not need anyone looking at him sobbing like a child while his kid is putting on a performance like this. 

He glances at Rory and Logan, both of them beaming at the stage like he was their own son; Johnny looking completely lost, but he knows that he’s proud of his godson, too. 

“Now it seems I always knew, why I do the things I do and the things I never did. Why I work my whole damn life: so’s I could give a better life than the one my dad could give me/ I give it to my kid.” Oliver stops strumming, everyone bursting out in applause. You and Matthew were probably the loudest ones cheering, not caring if you caused a scene for your own child. Tessa was trying to shrink into her seat out of embarrassment while the two of you were the only ones standing up and screaming. Oliver tried not to break character; trying to keep the straight face once he heard his parents voices, his dad’s voice, as the rest of the cast came out for the finale. “You think about a piece of work. Even, let’s say, Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. This beautiful work of art. But what if he had to create the Sistine Chapel a thousand times a year? Don’t you think that would dull even Michelangelo’s mind?”

Matthew couldn’t stop smiling: Oliver and Tessa were yours and his Sistine Chapels. He couldn’t think of anything better than what he had. Honestly, he wants Oliver to have a better life than he had, like the song says, but he doesn’t think that’s really possible. He doesn’t think anything could top what he has. 

 The song after Oliver’s is the last one, everyone leaving the stage and coming back out for bows. Oliver is one of the last people out. Matthew has no idea, but you know that it means he’s one of the most important people in the cast. Regardless, everyone you were with; Tessa, Rory, Logan, Johnny, all of you couldn’t help but jump up when Oliver came out to bow. You could see the red form on his cheeks through the makeup. He looked like he was looking for you in the crowd, even though he wouldn’t be able to see you with the light shining in his face. 

 Everyone starts to file out of the auditorium, Matthew just sitting there like he’s unable to move.

“Are you mad we didn’t tell you?” you ask, the rest of your group standing around you. “He thought you wouldn’t like that it wasn’t hockey and got nervous.”

“I wish he would have told me,” Matthew says. “I’m not mad.

“You just have to tell him that.”

You all get up to go meet Oliver out in the lobby of the auditorium. You see him standing there with someone else in the show. “Oliver you were amazing!” you gush, definitely embarrassing him in front of his friend as you hug him. Johnny and Rory praise his performance, Matthew standing back while Tessa even compliments him. 

Oliver looks at his father, nervous as his dad stands behind you. You push Matthew towards his son. He’s obviously a little hurt about Oliver not wanting to tell him, but he’ll get over it. “Are you mad?” Oliver asks.

“Mad? Of course,” Matthew stops. You can’t help but smile at the way he was teasing your son, even though Oliver looked genuinely afraid, “I’m not.” 

You hear Oliver release the breath he was holding as Matthew takes him in for a hug. “Fuck, I couldn’t be more proud of you.” 

“Matthew! Language!” you scold. 

“He plays hockey, it’s nothing new,” he shrugs. “But, bud, why didn’t you want me to know about this?”

“It wasn’t hockey so I didn’t think you would enjoy it as much. You always say hockey is something we share and that’s what you love about it,” he says, not looking at his dad. You could tell Matthew’s heart was breaking a little bit over that.

 “Oh, come on. I loved it because it made you happy.” Oliver looks up at him. “That’s all I care about.”

“Told you,” you say, shrugging, knowing that Oliver would hate to get overly sentimental.

“Mom!” Oliver says, Matthew just laughing.

“But tell me more about this show. I really only paid attention when you were on stage,” Matthew says, running his hand through his hair. 

“It’s a musical from, like, the 70s, or something,” Oliver starts to stay.

“Yeah, I was in it when I was a senior in high school. I was the teacher,” you cut in.

“That’s right, you would have been in high school when this came out.”

You and Matthew both look at Oliver, who seems to really believe the statement he just put out there, “How old do you think we are?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Your grandparents were born in the 70s. We were born in the late 90s,” Matthew says, his voice getting a little higher out of frustration.

Rory, Logan and Johnny are standing with you, laughing at the fact that your children think you’re twenty years older than you actually are. “Hey, Johnny, Rory, the kids know you’re both older than us,” you point out, Oliver and Tessa nodding in agreement, their laughter stopping as they realize the kids probably think they were born in the 60s or something. 

“Your father has no concept of science, you two have no concept of math or time, oh my god, I’ve failed as a teacher,” you start to mumble, Matthew still having a minor freakout over his children’s opinions on your age.

“Shit, we’re all old,” Matthew lets out.

“At least we’re going to be getting older together,” you say, this time trying to embarrass your kids. Matthew pulls you in for a kiss, Tessa and Oliver groaning over your PDA.

“Ah, you have a lifetime of this, kids,” Matthew says, kissing you again as you leave to go home. 

[letsgivethisonemoreshot]

Real Good Man

Word Count: 1,470

Warnings: Not really much.

Summary: Another song fic. This one to the tune of "Real Good Man" by Tim McGraw. Starring Elias playing in a road side dive bar.

Billie, Peyton, and Elizabeth walked into the little dive bar just after sunset. It was a place that people would go for drinks after work, or grab a burger and catch up with friends. Most nights there as live local music. This Saturday night was no different. A bunch of people, all seemingly knowing each other, crowded around blowing off some steam from the work week. Whoever was playing tonight wasn't there yet so they just had music flowing through the speakers.

Girl, you've never known no one like me,

Up there in your high society,

They might tell you I'm no good,

But girl they need to understand,

Just who I am.

I may be a real bad boy,

But baby I'm a real good man.

The girls had found a small unoccupied table. Elizabeth hurried over to it quickly and sat down before someone else could get it. Peyton sat down slowly while Billie ran her fingers along the top of the table cringing at whatever the sticky substance was that she was feeling.

"What?" Elizabeth asked, seeing her face.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just a little something on the table here." Billie replied, trying to settle back into a normal facial expression. "Maybe we should try and find another one."

"This is the only one that was open. Besides, they're probably all like that. We'll get it cleaned off." Elizabeth replied.

"Even more of a reason why we should leave." Peyton emphasized.

"Guys, it's really busy in here tonight and there's only one girl working. We probably grabbed this right after other people got up and they didn't get a chance to wipe it down yet." Elizabeth tried to ease their minds.

"Right. Like that dirty rag they'd use would actually clean anything off anyway." Peyton rolled her eyes as Billie slowly sat down. "Note to self, don't let Liz pick for ladies night anymore."

"Come on, relax! Let's just get a drink and some wings and have fun!"

Funny how this place was beneath her fancy friends now. However, when they were in high school and this place didn't bat an eye at their fake ID's they'd be in here any chance they got.

"It'll be just like old times."

"What? You mean Billie's going to throw up in the back of a taxi cab on the way home and my phone will get lost forever?"

Billie laughed at Peyton's joke, but I knew she was partially serious. Billie may have been trying, but Peyton wasn't hiding her displeasure at all. I rolled my eyes and looked around for the one poor girl working to see if I could get some water to at least get the table cleaned off. Maybe that would calm them down.

"Ah, now I think I know why Liz drug us out to this crap shack." Billie commented as she looked towards the stage.

Elizabeth and Peyton shifted their eyes to the small stage. The musician had arrived and set his guitar down next to the stool. He was in jeans and boots, the same as just about everyone else in there. Some old worn rock shirt with the sleeves cut off accenting his sculpted arms. He had some bandannas everywhere except on his long brown hair. His hair somewhat flowed into the long beard he had.

I may drink too much and play too loud,

Hang out with a rough and rowdy crowd,

That don't mean I don't respect,

My mama or my Uncle Sam,

Yes sir, yes ma'am,

I may be a real bad boy,

But baby I'm a real good man.

The singer sat atop the stool and rested his acoustic guitar in his lap. He looked in the direction of Elizabeth's table and winked. Elizabeth blushed and a little smile appeared across her lips as he began adjusting the microphone in front of him so he could speak into it.

"Hello I am Elias. Thank you all for coming out tonight. Just as soon as I get Lizzy here all tuned up, we'll be ready to go and hopefully we'll all have a real good time tonight."

Elizabeth didn't take her eyes off of the man on the stage, so she didn't notice the looks Billie and Peyton were exchanging with each other.

"Oh no. No no no. Liz don't tell us you still have a thing for that guy?" Peyton asked.

Elizabeth blushed again. She couldn't deny it. One night she was here and Elias had been playing that night. He hung around after for a few drinks and the two ended up talking. They exchanged numbers by the end of the night. Had talked a lot. She told her friends about him a few months back, and they were disappointed in her taste in men. They thought she could do so much better, so she kept it a secret from them that they had seen each other a few times.

"So what if she does? She's just a little attracted to the bad boy from the other side of the tracks. It's kind of cute." Billie defended.

"Oh yeah, real cute that our Liz could be a groupie for some no name who looks like he hasn't bathed in a week.”

"No one said anything about her being a groupie! It's not like she actually slept with him." Billie stated confidently.

"Oh no?"

"Of course not! She'd have told us!"

“He named the guitar Lizzy!”

“Coincidence? Besides, if she already slept with him I doubt he’d be looking over here giving her those puppy dog eyes. He’d have moved on by now.”

Elizabeth sat and watched her friends as they argued about her life, not giving her any room to input. So she focused her attention back to Elias, biting her lip as she watched him study his guitar. Expertly moving his fingers along the strings and thinking back to their last date.

I might have a reckless streak,

At least a country mile wide,

If you're gonna run with me,

It's gonna be a wild ride,

When it comes to lovin' you,

I've got velvet hands,

I'll show you how a real bad boy,

Can be a real good man.

After finishing up with his guitar, Elias spoke again.

"Alright, now that I'm done with her, I'm gonna head over to the bar and get a drink or three and then we can get this show started! I'll also be taking some requests tonight. Just keep in mind, if they're dirty songs," He paused. "I'm more likely to play 'em."

He winked and stood up as some people in the audience laughed along as they enjoyed their drinks. He set his guitar down and walked over to the bar.

"Ugh. Some people just never grow up." Peyton commented while rolling her eyes.

"You know Liz, it's really not nice of you to come here and tease the poor guy. He's going to get his hopes up thinking he can get someone like you." Billie said to her friend.

"She's right. You don't have to crush two of his dreams in one night."

"Two?" Elizabeth question.

"Well Lord knows his music career isn't going anywhere."

Elias walked across the room back to the stage with a beer bottle in his hand. Finally the waitress had made their way over to their table. She set down some fruity looking drink in front of Elizabeth.

"What can I get you ladies?" She asked in a friendly tone.

"Um, we didn't order this." Billie stated as she pointed at the drink.

"I know. It's from the musician on the stage. He said it was her favorite." She said with a smile.

Elizabeth smiled in return before taking a sip.

"But, how did he know?" Peyton whispered to herself.

The guitar strum startled the girls,and Payton and Billie looked at each other.

"What else can I get you ladies?"

"Hunny, could you give us a minute?" Peyton asked as she looked up at the confused waitress.

She said sure as she stepped back. Elizabeth gave her an apologetic look as she walked away. Both girls looked at Elizabeth, knowing what they wanted to ask but not able to find the words. Elizabeth wasn't sure how the rest of this night would go down after everything that had been said, but at some point she still wanted to formally introduce her oldest friends to her boyfriend.

I'll take all the good times I can get,

I'm too young for growing up just yet,

Ain't much I can promise you,

Except to do the best I can,

I'll be damned,

I may be a real bad boy,

But baby I'm a real good man.

I may be a real bad boy,

Oh but baby I'm a real good man.

Yes I am.

[miraculousgemscc]

Not So Berry Extended

I was inspired to write out a few more generations for the Not So Berry Challenge! I’m currently playing it in my spare time as a Vampire Not so Berry (cause why not?) and i’m having a lot of fun playing it and watching others play through the challenge! If you’d like to see more of these or maybe another version of Not So Berry Extended but with more of the careers then please let me know!

NOTE: This hasn’t been play-tested! If whatever’s listed below is impossible to complete please let me know and i’ll make the needed changes!

Gen 11: Black

(Requires Snowy Escape, Get Famous, Parenthood)

Growing up, you always thought you had the perfect life: You had the dream house, the dream family. Until one day you found out that your mother/father/parent had a secret affair. This completely broke you and in order to cope with the news, you decided to become a rebel. I mean, don’t we all go through a rebellious phase in our lives? Your whole perspective on life went 360: you changed your sense of style, your personality, etc. all at once. At least you had the great outdoors giving you comfort during your “everlasting phase”! Your favorite season was Winter because you could ski/snowboard all day, everyday. And what about those dreams you had of becoming a famous skier/snowboarder? Well we can do that too!

Traits: Hot-Headed (give as a teenager), Active, Self-Assured

Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast

Career: Manuel Laborer, Ski/Snowboarding YouTuber (once you reach Level 10 of Ski/Snowboarding)

Rules:

Must enter “rebellious phase” either at the end of childhood or beginning of being a teenager (you don’t need PH for this, it’s just apart of storytelling) (this is when the black color of this gen. should occur)

Must get the Argumentative, Insensitive and Uncontrolled Emotions Character Value traits (PH)

Must max either the Skiing or Snowboarding skill (SE)

Must enter the Manuel Laborer job as a teenager and stay in that job

Once your able to create Snowboarding videos, you must make your money off of your videos only

Reach at least Rising Star of Celebrity level (GF)

B-Lister is preferred but since getting fame with Get Famous is hard as it is Rising Star is ok

Must move to Mt. Komorebi (SE)

Gen 12: Dark Academia

(requires Get to Work, Nifty Knitting) Your mother/father/parent was one of the most famous skier/snowboarders in Mt. Komorebi. She/He/They always encouraged you to spend your time outdoors and take in the fresh air. Yet, you preferred to spend your time indoors, curled up in bed with your tea and book in hand. You craved to enter the fictional worlds you’ve read in your books from a young age. When you entered high school, you found your love for the arts and decided that you’d become an artist. At least then you could bring the worlds you’ve read to life on a canvas! And why not have a little snack while we’re at it? You can just learn some new foods you can make through cooking books after all!

Traits: Bookworm, Creative, Art Lover

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Career: Stay-at-Home Painter, Painter career (⚠️Only if you get offered the job⚠️)

Rules:

Must complete the Painter Extraordinaire aspiration

Must max out Painting skill, Cooking or Gourmet Cooking skill and Photography skill (GTW)

Must make your money through your paintings only

if you get a call about joining the Painter career, you must accept

Must move into a “rundown” lot/apartment with only a kitchen, bathroom, and a bed (and maybe your books if you want but you can’t sell these for money)

your funds when you move out after moving into your house must be $60

(this will be enough for your painting and some extra money to spend elsewhere)

Must have a library in your house

Must have 3 kids (biological or adopted)

spouse must be employed as a Salaryperson and/or Business career (recommended if it’s game generated but you can give them either job yourself)

can only marry partner towards the end of adulthood

Must purchase Knitting Skill Book 1 from bookshelf (NK)

Gen 13: Pastel

(requires Nifty Knitting, Get To Work, Get Together) Your family was pretty stable for the most part. Sure, you may have had trouble paying the bills here and there but what mattered most is that your family was together. Even though you enjoyed your mother/father/parent’s love for Forrest Green, Rosy Brown and overall Earthy tones you felt like you needed a bit more color in your life. And by color, you mean bright and colorful. One day while going through your mother/father/parent’s library you discovered a book on knitting. Figuring your mother/father/parent spent all of their time cooking and painting anyways you decided to take the book and learn how to knit. Yet, knitting cute decor and beanies isn’t going to put food on the table and a roof over your head. Guess running your own business is going to have to wait. Oh yeah, you also have a weird obsession with the letter B...

Traits: Perfectionist, Cheerful, Childish

Aspiration: Lady/Lord of the Knits

Career: Barista (teen), Business (young adult), Business owner (adult)

Rules:

Must complete the Lady/Lord of the Knits aspiration

Must max out Knitting skill, reach required skills needed for jobs before quitting them (ex. If you need Level 3 of Charisma for the Business career but you’ve age up to an Adult, you must reach level 3 before quitting the job)

Must Donate to Charity at least once a week

Quit your career in Business and open your own business as an adult (GTW)

Must get 2/5 stars for your business

Must live in Windenburg and have your business in the Old Platz neighborhood (GT)

Must create a Knitting Club and meet your friends (GT) when you reach Level 3 of the Knitting skill

Can only have relationships with immediate family (siblings, parent(s), grandparent(s), aunts/uncles) until you create the club. Once you create the club you may make friends.

Must become good friends with club members and best friends with one of the members

Marry your partner from the Knitting Club

Must have their first and/or last name start with B (you can cheat the name if you want)

Gen 14: White (Requires Get Famous, Get Together, City Living) Living in Windenburg for most of your life, you always loved how the town was so inclusive to everything and everyone. You always found yourself vibing with the music and dancing whenever you had the chance. But you also had a passion for music, specifically rap. While browsing the internet one day you came across some videos about some kid with blue hair rapping with his friends and you immediately became obsessed. (yes, I just made a FNF reference) From that day on, you wanted to become a Triple Threat: a dancer, musician, and a producer! The world isn’t stopping anytime soon so you gotta act fast and get your dance on!

Traits: Dance Machine, Music Lover, Geek

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Career: Entertainer Rules:

Must max the Dancing skill, Media Production skill, and Guitar/Violin/Piano skill (your choosing) reach level 6 of Singing skill

Must complete the Entertainer career

Must be signed to a Record Label and release your music (GF)

Must marry someone named Keith and has the Proper trait (you may cheat the name only)

Have a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner in high school but break up with them before becoming a Young Adult

must be Hot and Cold with High School love (negative friendship, positive romance)

Have Dance Battles with your friends at least once a week

Have at least 2 Enemies (you can have more if you wish) (this doesn’t include your High School love)

Gen 15: Navy Blue

(Requires Discover University, Eco Lifestyle, Parenthood) Growing up you tend to lean towards a more sophisticated lifestyle thanks to your father. With having good role models around you and supportive parents, you were able to pursue your dreams of becoming a lawyer. Helping those in need was one of your biggest goals in life. The world right now isn’t perfect and you strive to change the world for the better. Having been the smartest kid throughout your school career, you were given the chance to jump straight into the Law career. Although you were grateful for the opportunity, you decided to continue your studies and learn as much as you could before going into Law.

Traits: Proper, Ambitious, Genius

Aspiration: Academic

Career: Law

Rules:

Must complete the Law career

Become a Private Attorney

Must max out Research and Debate, reach level 5 Logic skill, reach level 8 Charisma skill

Must complete the Whiz Kid aspiration and Academic aspiration

Must attend college for the Law career (you may disable aging while you go to college if you want)

Must get an A in school (child and teen)

Must have the Responsible and Mediator Character Value traits

Must make your neighborhood a Green neighborhood (EL)

Attend volunteer events at least once a week (PH)

Never get married, only have 1 child

(can have boyfriend/girlfriend/partner)

Must move to Britechester when you start the Law career (you can live in Britechester while attending college if you want)

Gen 16: Phoenix

(Requires Vampire) You grew up wanting more from the world besides all of the “change the world” stuff your mother/father/parent kept blabbering on about. Instead of changing the world, you wanted a change of scenery. While roaming the world trying to find your new normal you discovered the world of Forgotten Hollow. There, you met your soulmate and later the person who would eventually turn you into a vampire. As crazy as it sounds, the minute you became a Young Adult you up and left your home in Britechester and moved to Forgotten Hollow. This you thought was it! You were finally free to be yourself! Until the dreaded accident.....

Traits: Loves the Outdoors, Romantic, Erratic

Aspiration: Master Vampire

Career: none

Rules:

Must purposely burn in the sun and die

Must have no kids

Must complete Master Vampire aspiration except the, “Survive for an Additional 20 Days as a Vampire” section (you must Die by Sunlight before this reaches the full 20 Days)

Must max Vampire Lore skill and Pipe Organ skill, reach level 5 Gardening skill

Have your own garden in Forgotten Hollow and make your money through your garden only

Must unlock the Thin Skinned weakness from Vampire levels

Must immediately move out as a Young Adult to Forgotten Hollow

your partner must be a Vampire and turn you into a Vampire

And that’s it! I hope you find this as interesting as I did! :D

If your wanting more ways to spice up your gameplay, I have a save file that i’ve been working on the past couple of years! You can find it here.

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 3  of true north is here!

[kristanna / t / the actual fic version of my single dad au at long last]

ch. 1 / 2

“Can we see the penguins?”

“That’s the only reason to go to the zoo, isn’t it?” Sven asks, leaning back to tickle his goddaughter’s ankle. 

She squeals and kicks at his hand. “No! We go for ice cream!”

“We have ice cream at home,” Kristoff says, hiding a smile, because it’s his job to be the grouchy one so that Uncle Sven seems even cooler.

“But it’s my birthday,” she whines, and Kristoff glances up in the rearview mirror to see a pair of puppy dog eyes that match the set coming at him from the passenger seat.

“I’ll consider it,” he lies, knowing damn well he’ll be putting down ten bucks for two firecracker pops and a frozen lemonade and watch his melt while he keeps a napkin pressed to Alice’s chubby wrist before it drips onto her dress, and then inevitably more of it will end up on the ground than in her mouth.

He wonders if Bailey would say he’s spoiling her, that she doesn’t need a popsicle and special pancakes and her pink birthday cake.

But Bailey’s not here, and that’s why he’ll do it.

“Hey Al, do you see what I see?” Sven says with exaggerated enthusiasm, pointing to the green road sign that says “Zoo Next Exit”, and Alice scrunches up her face.

“A tree?” she asks, confused, and Kristoff can’t help but laugh.

---

“Nah, man, I’ve got it,” Kristoff says gruffly as Sven pulls out his wallet.

“Let it be my birthday present to Al,” Sven argues, even though he’s already putting it away again; it’s a familiar routine for both of them, helps both of them keep their pride intact even if it means they get weird looks from waiters sometimes when Sven’s excuses err on the ridiculous side.

“I’m sure you already got her something else,” Kristoff says, sliding his debit card across the counter, and by the other man’s grin he knows that’s a yes.

The teenage boy managing the cash register makes that face, the one with narrowed eyes that say don’t I know you from somewhere? Mercifully, Alice saves them by proclaiming very loudly, “It’s my birthday. I’m four.”

The teenager slides an “it’s my birthday!” sticker over the counter. “There you go, kiddo. Happy birthday. And, uh,” he adds, eyeing Sven a little shyly, “go Tigers.”

Sven grins and gives him a fist bump. “Thanks, man.”

They’re saved from getting asked for an autograph by a school bus of preschoolers rolling up. Kristoff pulls Alice out of the way and kneels down to put the sticker on her shirt, but she shrieks and pushes his hand away. “Not there, Daddy,” she whines. 

“Okay, where?”

She points to the same spot he just went for, and he follows her orders. “Better?”

Alice nods and takes hold of his hand. “We can go now,” she says, imperious as a queen, and Sven doesn’t bother to hide his snort of laughter.

---

The arctic section, thankfully, is in the middle of the zoo, so in only a few minutes Alice has her nose pressed up against the glass as she watches them dive for their breakfast. Sven’s right beside her, ooh-ing and ahh-ing with all the kids even though he’s as tall as five of them stacked together. 

Kristoff hangs back and takes a surreptitious picture on his phone; they’ve learned the hard way if they try and take pictures together, someone inevitably notices and gasps, “Sven Peters?” and asks for a picture of their own, and then they lose half an hour to football fans who don’t give a shit that they have a limited amount of time before Alice has an “I-need-a-nap” meltdown.

Eventually, the penguins disappear in the recesses of the enclosure, and Alice bounds back over to him, holding her arms up. He does her one better and sets her on his shoulders. “Where to now, Ally Pally?”

“Seals!” she proclaims, and off they go, just in time to see the show with the trainers and the red ball. 

The birthday sticker nets Alice a chance to ask the trainer a question. “Do seals have mommies?” she asks, and though everyone else laughs at how cute it is, Kristoff feels queasy for a second, worried that she’s still not over last night’s meltdown.

They move pretty quick after that, knowing there’s only a finite amount of time before she starts asking for ice cream; Asian animals are next, first the elephants-- “stinky,” Alice says, wrinkling her nose as they watch one relieve itself, and then the tigers-- “take a picture of me with them quick, Bjorgman,” Sven insists, and somehow they manage to pull it off without anyone seeing, and then the pandas, which are Kristoff’s favorite because they know the secret to happiness is being left the hell alone to eat as much as you please.

The other bears are next, and Alice takes great delight in watching Sven look between Kristoff and the grizzly enclosure and ask if she sees a difference. “I’m telling you, Bjorgman,” he says, clicking his tongue and shaking his head sadly, “the beard’s gotta go, or they’re gonna put you behind glass, too.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles, earning a snort and an elbow to the ribs.

They’re only halfway through the monkey section when Alice starts whining about a popsicle. “We’re not coming back through here if we leave now, Al,” Kristoff warns her, but she’s unmoved.

She switches to holding Sven’s hand while Kristoff pays for the popsicles and finds a bench big enough for the three of them; Alice sits in the middle, red popsicle juice already dripping onto her t-shirt, and leans back with a happy sigh.

“Good birthday so far, Ally Pally?” Sven asks as he slurps at his own firecracker pop.

“Uh-huh,” she mumbles, trying and failing to catch a drip running down her arm.

Kristoff sets his frozen lemonade aside to swipe at it, cursing himself for leaving the wet wipes in the car. “Guess what? Uncle Sven’s going to Nana’s house for your party tonight.”

“Why?” Alice asks, frowning.

“Because he’s your family,” Kristoff says.

“Why won’t Mommy be there?”

Shit. He walked right into that one. “She’s busy,” Kristoff says, wondering if she actually is.

Some days, that line works. Today, it doesn’t. A moment later, the popsicle is on the sidewalk, Alice is screeching, and he and Sven come to the silent agreement that it’s time to go.

If he wasn’t so busy wrangling a sobbing four-year-old, Kristoff would have time to be amused that, just like when they played together in college, Sven’s the one clearing a path for him through the horde. He’s damn lucky to have a friend like that, and he knows it, but it still doesn’t sit right, sometimes, all the shit Sven does without asking for anything back. He won’t even take Kristoff buying the tickets and ice cream; there’s going to be a twenty shoved in the glove compartment or the fridge or one of Alice’s little plastic purses by the end of the day, and neither of them will say anything about it.

---

One mile in the car is enough to knock Alice out, and they’ve still got fourteen to go. Sven chuckles at the sight of her slumped over in the carseat. “Damn. Guess chasing the seals up and down the glass wore her out.”

“She didn’t sleep well last night,” Kristoff admits, and they’re both quiet for a minute; they’ve been best friends, tight as real brothers, for going on nine years now, but it’s still hard sometimes, talking about shit like this. It only ever happens in the car when they don’t really have to look at each other.

“Asking about the wicked witch of the west again?”

Petty as it is, the stupid nickname still gives Kristoff a twinge of satisfaction when he hears it. “Yeah. Apparently Lily’s mommy was at her birthday party, so now Al wants hers. As if she’s a fucking clown for hire or something.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“That Mommy’s busy. I’ve told her before that Mommy’s not coming back, but it doesn’t really get through to her. I don’t think she gets ‘never’ yet, you know?”

Sven mutters something under his breath that’s so vulgar Kristoff checks the rearview mirror to make sure Alice didn’t wake up to hear it. “Well, at least she’s got the world’s coolest uncle. And her dad’s alright, too, when he’s not being a grumpy bastard.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

That’s enough male bonding for one day. They’re quiet for another moment, and then Sven plugs the aux cable into his phone, and they listen to Journey at half volume the rest of the way back to the house, Sven headbanging and playing a wicked air guitar until Kristoff cracks a rare smile and plays the drums on the steering wheel at a red light.

---

Sven heads right to practice once they’re back at the house; he claps Kristoff on the shoulder and says “see you tonight” before loping off to his car and leaving him to carry Alice upstairs to her bed.

He’s got forty minutes of naptime left if he’s lucky. He sniffs at his shirt and cringes; between the meltdown last night and how tired he was afterward, a shower hasn’t happened yet. Neither has mopping the kitchen where it’s still sticky after an apple juice incident, nor washing his sheets; he hasn’t even finished double checking the books for the café like his mom asked. 

But that shit’s a hell of a lot easier to do when Alice is awake than this is, so Kristoff hops in the shower without waiting for the water to warm and grabs his bottle of three-in-one soap. He hums a little to himself as he lathers his hair, one of the songs they jammed out to in the car, and lets the warm water do what it can to relieve the tension that’s always sitting in his shoulders even on the days when no one calls out at work and Alice doesn’t scream in the grocery store. 

He winces at his reflection when he gets out of the shower. Sven had a point today about the beard; combined with his overgrown hair and the shadows under his eyes, he looks less like a twenty something ex-football player than a grizzled old mountain man. No fucking wonder people keep their distance from him. 

He likes it that way, though, really; no probing questions in the checkout line, no well-meaning advice from strangers, nobody interrupting the routine they’ve got down. 

But sometimes, he has to admit, it would be nice if—

“Daddy?” comes a sleepy, petulant voice from down the hall, and he’s been wasting time wanting things when he’s not even dressed yet. 

—-

As usual, his mom’s gone all out for the party; Kristoff’s her only child, so she spoils Alice with the focus and enthusiasm of an entire competitive cheer squad. There’s a massive pink cake— way too much for the two of them, his parents, and Sven and his new girlfriend, who’s an unexpected but highly welcome addition to the crew, considering how quickly she and Alice bond over their love of Mulan and orange juice.

 It’s not a break, exactly, to have this many adults around, but it’s breathing room, at least; Alice is in the living room on her grandfather’s lap performing all her favorite songs from Poppy’s Garden Tales while Sven’s girlfriend-- Marissa or Maisie or something-- claps along and Sven takes pictures of them both. Kristoff’s in the kitchen working on clearing the table and washing the dishes, enjoying the relative peace of the moment, until suddenly his mom appears at his elbow with a knowing glint in her eye.

“You’re not eating enough,” she says without preamble.

“What? I ate two plates of spaghetti.”

She jabs him in the side, and he yelps. “What else have you eaten today?”

“A pancake,” he says defensively. “And some frozen lemonade and a PB&J.”

He didn’t realize how little it was until he lists it all off. He used to eat four thousand calories a day, track all his macros weigh all his proteins; now he just eats whatever he’s making for Alice. 

“Baby,” his mother says gently, “you gotta take care of yourself, too.”

He’s heard this lecture a thousand times over the last four years. “I know,” he mumbles; arguing only prolongs the inevitable. 

“Maybe Sven can help you find a nice--”

“No, Ma,” he says, and it comes out harsher than he means it to. He pauses his scrubbing, remorseful, and she sets a hand on his forearm in silent understanding.

He leans down and kisses her cheek. “You and Al are the only girls I need,” he says, keeping his voice light, and she laughs.

The singing’s ended by now, and Alice is on her uncle’s lap reciting all the animals they saw that morning. “We’re gonna go back,” she announces. “You can come next time, Mary.”

Mary-- shit, how’d he forget an easy name like that? He really is getting old.

“What’d you wish for when you blew out the candles, Ally Pally?” she asks, and now Kristoff really likes her for catching on to that so quick.

“I want every day like this,” Alice announces decisively.

Sven chuckles at that. “If every day’s your birthday, then it’s not special anymore.”

“Nooo,” Alice giggles, “I wanna have fun with Daddy every day.”

Well, shit. He fucking wants that too, but how the hell do you tell a four year old it’s not that easy, that he only got today off with her because both his parents worked at the cafe today despite his dad’s knee replacement and his mom’s arthritis?

He’s glad Ma’s turned away from him when Alice says it so he doesn’t have to see the all-too familiar sympathy in her eyes. He gets that look from her and the rest of the world every damn day. He doesn’t want pity, doesn’t even want help. Him and Alice, they’re a team, and they don’t need anyone else. 

“Baby,” his mom starts, and he knows it’s going to be something too compassionate to stomach right now, and so he walks into the living room, pretending not to hear.

[itsanerdlife]

Chasing The Dream 8/10

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (High School/College AU)

Warning: Angst. Underage drinking. Jealousy. Language. Heartbreak and arguing.

A/N: This is the series, the prequel of Chasing Dreams One Shot. They do overlap so if you need to read it I can link it when time comes.

Chasing Dreams - This is half way through this part. The basic ending is where this picks up. I got the idea of this series from this one shot. It’s not totally on spot but you get the idea.

Only Two Parts Left

College –

Y/N (Beginning Never Start While Carrying Past Baggage)

The guys had tested out early, getting their diplomas before they left. Nat, Wanda and yourself watched as the tail lights of Buck’s van faded into the evening night. You’d kept your word, not speaking to your father since the fight. He’d left shortly before Peter and the guys, something about a new album and working out a few new songs. You rolled your eyes and ran up to your room without a goodbye, you had nothing nice to say to him.

The guys missed graduation. Wanda sent them photos, and a short video of you celebrating, blowing them kisses. She sent the good photos, most of them were of one of you crying, all of you puffy eyed and ruined make up. Your mother joined your father on tour, leaving you to pack for college on your own.

You’d put off singing, the three of you not ready to pick at the wound in your chests. Peter sent texts, sometimes he called late at night, running on a high after a concert. The closer your move in date got, the more you avoided answering. You were playing with fire; your willpower was weak, and you were standing on the edge of booking a plane ticket and bailing on college. There were break down moments, in the weeks leading up to your move. You’d broke down and called Bucky, bawling and irrational.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He was moving from room to room, you could hear it.

“I can’t do it Buck. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to do this.” You sobbed curled up in bed.

“Hey breathe, you’re going to be okay.” His voice is soft and soothing.

“It hurts too much. I don’t want to live like this. This isn’t what I want.” You shake your head, tears soaking your pillow.

“Deep breathes, Y/N. You’re scared and you’re still getting over the heart break.” He was right, you were being selfish.

“I miss him.” You admit with a choked voice.

“He’s no better than you.” He sighs.

“I’m a lone Buck. I’m scared.” You chew your bottom lip.

“I’m going to send you some downloads, put them on your phone, put your headphones in. I know you have about eight of his shirts. So, put one on and hide under all the blankets and press play.” He instructs you.

“Don’t tell him I called.” You sigh, wiping your tears.

“Our secret doll.” He chuckles softly. “Get ready, I’ll send you what you need to get through the night.” The two of you hang up.

You did what Buck told you pulling your laptop into your lap, you transfer over the MP3’s he sent you, loading them to your phone without a glance at what they were labeled. You put your headphones in, pulling the blankets up over your head you press play. Snuggled in, wearing Peter’s band T you’d stolen from him, a guitar fills your ears and like everything you needed Peter’s voice follows. Your eyes sink close and your body relaxes into the blankets and bed, everything was right when you were dreaming of Peter.

--------

(After One Shot)

Peter (Is It Really Everything You Ever Wanted)

He dropped his duffle just inside the door, and he could hear Aunt May rushing through the house.

“Peter?” She yells excitedly.

“It’s me, Aunt May.” He laughs, she rushes around the corner colliding into him. Her arms hugging him tightly to her.

“My boys home!” She gushes, rocking side to side.

“It’s just a few days.” He laughs.

“Let me fix you something to eat.” She lets go, heading for the kitchen.

“Somethings just never change.” He mumbles under his breath with a grin as he follows her.

“Where are my other boys?” She looks back at him.

“They’ll be here for supper.” He nods, knowing none of them would risk the wrath of Aunt May if they missed dinner.

“Good.” She nods, shuffling around the kitchen.

“So how are things?” He chews the inside of his cheek, sliding up onto the counter top.

“Anything interesting you’re looking for?” Aunt May smirks at him.

“How’s Uncle Ben?” Peter looks down at his hands.

“Good, working. Refuses to retire, stubborn old man.” She mutters.

“Good to know he’s still the same.” He laughs.

“Aunt May?!” The front door opens, the guys having arrived.

“My boys!” Aunt May throws her hands up, rushing out to greet them. “Come, come, I’m making snacks.” She comes back into the kitchen, going back to work.

“Hey man.” The guys greet him.

“Hey.” He nods.

“Peter was just asking how things are around here. You boys wondering the same thing?” She pauses looking at them. All four of them shift, Aunt May was always good at knowing what they were up too.

“Things been good?” Buck swallows, looking nervously at Aunt May. She lays down her knife, sighing.

“I’m going to give it to you straight boys. Aunt May isn’t Willy Wonka, so here it is.” She points at Buck. “Your girl, pawned her guitar, it’s still sitting down at the second hand shop. She’s sworn off music, colored her hair and has a mean glare on her face most days.” She nods.

“Yikes.” Buck swallows.

“Steven, you better be asking that Amy Thompson for a DNA test, her little girl is blonde, blue eyed and looks like you.” She shoots Steve a dirty look. Steve’s eyes are massive, as he looks around at the other guys.

“I think I need to make a phone call.” Steve pats his pockets before running out of the kitchen.

“That little red headed Wanda, she’s sad. Just sad Samuel. They cried through graduation, and don’t even think it’s cause they are going to miss school.” She points at the three of them. “That girl was so bubbly and joyful and it’s like someone fed her vinegar.” She sighs.

“Wanda? I can’t picture her anything but wide eyed, embarrassed and laughing.” Peter shakes his head, but Aunt May turns on him.

“Peter Benjamin Parker. That poor girl has not been the same since you left this town. Cops showed up just before she left for school. Apparently she had it out with her father again, family dispute or so the town is saying.” She gives him a look that makes him shift in his seat. “Girl colored her hair, refuses to speak to her father, and from what I heard, she’s barely making grades in school.” Aunt May waves the knife around the kitchen at them. “You got some fancy deal and left town, ruining three of the sweetest girls I know.” She wasn’t happy with them, she was lecturing them.

“We didn’t have a choice Aunt May.” Buck sighs.

“We had a choice.” Peter speaks up.

“Christ not this argument again.” Sam drops his head into his hands.

“She wasn’t allowed to come with us. What did you want Nat and Wanda to come, but leave Y/N even more alone?” Buck defends himself.

“Was this really worth it?” Peter throws his hands up. “Cause I’m not fucking happy. Sam isn’t happy. Are you happy Buck? Does being a rock star keep you warm at night? Does it give you that warm excited feeling in your chest? Is it excited to see you every day? Cause I haven’t seen that yet.” Peter shakes his head, biting into a cookie off the counter.

“He has a point.” Sam looks up, rubbing his face.

“You’re only saying this cause you saw her a few weeks ago.” Buck sighs. “I get the same way after seeing Nat. It’s hard, wondering what could have been, I get that Parker.” He shakes his head.

“I’ve been feeling this way for a while, before seeing her.” He admits.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have let her take you back to her place, you wouldn’t be all tangled up in your head.” Buck replies with a sigh. Aunt May looks over at him, he flushes red.

“Shut up.” Peter throws the other half the cookie at Buck. “I’ve been thinking this before the concert. Before being with her again.” His brow connects.

“He has.” Sam defends Peter.

“Why do you always take his side in everything?” Buck groans.

“Maybe because we think the same. Maybe I just miss Wanda. I miss our old lives.” Sam retorts annoyed.

“Yeah, maybe we miss how things were.” Peter jumps in. Suddenly the three of them are going back and forth, Aunt May watching.

“Steven are you okay?” She interrupts. Everyone quiets looking over at Steve, who’s pale white and wide eyed.

“I have a daughter.” He replies, shocked.

“Oh shit.” Peter’s off the counter.

“Told you so.” Aunt May replies, her voice soft as she goes back to making snacks. Peter smirks at her, woman was always right and sometimes it was downright scary.

Everything Peaches 2/6/19: @xmtd5 @mo320 @courtmr   @all1e23 @izzy--lee @irepeldirt @dumblani @crist1216 @alyssaj23 @allyp1023 @joannie95 @kolakube9 @rileyloves5 @sarahp879 @sea040561 @sexyvixen7 @pcterpvrker @pigwidgexn @doctoranon @abschaffer2 @nickimarie94 @teller258316 @wandressfox @amandab-ftw @henrietteoaks @nea90sweetie @circusofchaos @itsagalaxystar @bettercallsabs @miraclesoflove @lucifersnipnips @queenkrissy11 @sadyoungadult @destiel-artemis @paintballkid711 @iwillbeinmynest @sweet-honey15 @chanelmadrid13 @mellxander1993   @spookygrantaire @geeksareunique @supernatural508 @sammysgirl1997 @itzmegaaaaaaan @booksbeforebois @mariekoukie6661 @pure-princess-97 @capsheadquaters @samanthasmileys @youclickedthislink @futuremrsb-r-main @lovemarvelousfics @notyourtypicalrose @petersunderoos96 @loving-life-my-way @booktvmoviefangirl @supernatural-girl97 @fanfictionjunkie1112 @abbypalmer14-blog @meganlikesfandoms @awkwardfangirl2014 @supernaturaldean67 @xqueenofthecraziesx   @queenoftheunderdark @writingaworldofmyown @supernaturallover2002 @daughterofthenight117 @sprinklesandsugarcubes @whothehellisbucky-1930 @verymuchclosetedfangirl @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @wonderlandfandomkingdom @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @stupendoussciencenaturepanda @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety

Peter Parker: @ml7010 @ariminiria @dkpink123 @little-smurf @boltsgirl919 @quokkatrash   @everthenerd @ms-rogers06 @crayonwriting @baebeepeach @bellamouse16 @honey-bee-holly @kiss-the-stars-goodbye

Chasing The Dream: @del-rcys @gabile18   @robin-writes @raven-black102

[chemicalmagecraft]

I Would Totally Kick Jiraiya’s Butt Chapter 17

Neji said something. I don't know what, I wasn't really paying attention. Yeah, yeah. I know, I should pay attention to whatever it was my cousin-slash-brother said, but I was preoccupied. In five days, Hanabi would be born, and probably also Neji's sibling that I had yet to know the name of because they weren't in canon on account of a uncle Hizashi's death. It was something that I should've been excited about, but... How do you tell your adopted cousin that his aunt, and possibly also his mother, has a really high chance of dying in a week or so? How do you tell your adopted father his wife will die? Your uncle? It was a lot easier telling Dad his brother would have died if I hadn't intervened because, well, he hadn't and I'd been all hopped up on righteous indignation at the time.

But there really wasn't anyone to blame this time. I mean, Hanabi and (insert whatever aunt Hikaru and uncle Hizashi were about to name their kid here) didn't ask to be born, and nobody really knew that Mom wasn't really able to withstand the stress of labor a second time until I decided to check what, exactly, killed her. But yeah. Turns out that Mom had some kind of issue with her heart that was just minor enough that nobody ever noticed anything wrong, but still serious enough that at her age, a second child was kinda dangerous. And it was genetic. And aunt Hikaru was an exact genetic duplicate of Mom, as most identical twins are. You can see why I might be a little worried here, right?

So yeah. I mean, I probably should've told someone about said heart defects instead of simply passive-aggressively hinting about it, but I was kinda... scared to talk about it? Soooo instead I silently checked through all the possible forms of making sure someone doesn't die that I had available to me. Sage-enriched red chakra is pretty freaking good for the heart, especially when you throw in a temporary copy of the Uzumaki bloodline's vitality. So now that it was a week or so away from Hanabi's birth, Chikage was off grinding her power enough that she'd be able to cover both at once. She could split herself in two, but at the cost of both copies having half the strength of the original. So both Chikages were training at once to raise their capacity and power in our secret base. Well, two Chikages with most of the power were training, and then a much lesser Chikage clone who was rocking out in preparation for YET ANOTHER upcoming deadline, this time the Uchiha incident. Well, just before the Uchiha incident. We all agreed that one of our favorite songs would be very apropos in the event that we had to confront Danzō, and she was trying to figure it out because I never actually played it before. I liked it a lot, though, so I knew it by heart.

Okay, maybe there were better uses of our time, but with the power level of that specific clone, making and then playing the guitar was a surprisingly good form of training.

Neji hit me lightly to get my attention, bringing me back to the present. "Were you paying attention?"

"Muh..." I muttered. "Not really."

He sighed. "I asked if you wanted to spar? You looked worried about something, so I figured I'd take your mind off of it."

I shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

kukukuku~

I nervously bounced my leg. Today was the day. My sister and cousin were going to be born within the hour and I wasn't entirely sure Mom and aunt Hikaru would be alright. Yes I could see the future, but my own actions, and consequently Chikage's, were what changed the outcomes I saw, meaning that until Chikage pulled it off and it wasn't the future anymore but actually set in stone, I could see both the future where they survived and the future where they didn't, meaning either outcome could happen.

After a while of tense waiting with my family in the hospital, I felt a burst of information. One of the two Chikages just depleted herself, and like a shadow clone that meant her memories returned to me. A few moments later, the other other me died as well. With its fate no longer in my hands, the future I wanted to see wouldn't branch out, and... success! I closed my eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. Two healthy baby girls, born to two nearly-identical sets of parents. I practically melted in my chair, the tension I'd been feeling for weeks suddenly draining away. "Fate averted," I sighed, then yawned. When was the last time I slept? "Hey Neji..." I murmured, my eyes heavy. "Wake me up when..." I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.

kukukuku~

Someone was shaking me. "Kouki!" Neji shouted.

"Mmmh." I rubbed my eyes. "Why are you yelling?" I muttered.

"I've been trying to wake you up for ten minutes!"

I licked my lips. "What do you need me for?"

"Did you forget about how our sisters were just born!?"

I nodded blearily. Then I remembered three separate sets of memories of agonizing over the impending doom of loved ones. "Oh."

"Yeah. Uncle Hiashi told me to wake you up." It looked like he didn't notice the trauma. To be fair, I was pretty drowsy. He offered me his hand and pulled me up. I swayed on my feet a bit. "Are you okay?"

"I... haven't slept in... I dunno, probably a week?"

Neji sighed. "You're sleeping when we get back home."

"'Kay..." Neji dragged me by the hand to the right room. It looked like Mom and aunt Hikaru were in the same room. How coincidental. Neji led me to my mom. Or at least, I think she was my mom. Normally I was a bit better about that, but I was so tired that I was having issues sensing the difference between my mom's and aunt's chakra signatures. Really, having an aunt and uncle who are both almost identical to my parents is really annoying sometimes.

"Kouki," she said, smiling. I grinned back at her and looked at the bundle of cloth in her arms. "Do you want to hold your sister?" She handed her to me. I looked at the baby in the bundle as a sense of calm washed over me. To be honest she didn't look like much, as is the case with all newborns, but she was my sister! "Her name is Hanabi." She gurgled at me, and I gave her a small grin as I placed her back in Mom's arms.

"Do you want to see your cousin?" aunt Hikaru asked me. I calmly walked over to her and accepted the proffered child. She looked exactly like Hanabi, though to be fair that wasn't saying much at the moment. "Her name is Hanako." I snorted. That was probably planned. Hanako grabbed my finger, and something hit me. Hanako was an original character. Her parents were dead in canon, and the only reason they weren't in our... timeline(?) was that I showed up one day and sliced a guy's leg off. And just now, my aunt's life was almost traded for hers, had I not... taken it upon myself to stop her death while shying away from the simple option of telling my family about the impending doom. I really need to work on my social skills...

My eyes blurred, and I sniffed. I'd almost lost my mom. Again. I'd almost lost my aunt. Why couldn't I say anything? I quickly handed Hanako back to aunt Hikaru as the tears started streaming down my face. "Kouki?" she asked. I sobbed and bit my lip.

"Kouki, are you okay?" my dad asked me. I shook my head. "Do you want to talk about it?" I shook my head.

After a few moments of sitting down and breathing deeply, I managed to calm down enough to talk. "I'm fine now..." I muttered. "Need to sleep though. Got a headache."

"Fine, but we will talk about this later." I nodded.

kukukuku~

I'm sure you guys would prefer not to hear about how I told my dad talked to me about that whole debacle. Suffice to say, though, there was some crying and on my part and a few stern and then reassuring words on his.

On a completely unrelated note, Hanabi and Hanako were born like a few days before the first day of our second year of school. Yaaaaaaaay.

"I don't wanna go to school!" Naruto griped. He and Tenten met up with Hinata, Neji, and I while we were walking to school.

"Too bad!" Tenten, who was carrying him like a sack of potatoes, shouted.

"I'm sure it won't be too bad, Naruto-kun," Hinata offered. "If you want, you can... sit next to me?" Naruto was still squirming around in Tenten's grasp and it didn't look like he noticed her.

I heard a laugh. "Is Naruto being difficult?" Ino asked. She and Sakura walked up to us. "Isn't he heavy, Tenten?"

Tenten blushed. "I'm-" she shouted, then sighed. "I can hold him."

Ino shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'm pretty someone else here can carry him if you need a break, though. Not me, but..."

"I-Ino..." Sakura muttered.

"I was thinking more like Neji or Kouki, Sakura-chan," Ino assured her.

"I can carry him!" Tenten shouted.

We chatted all the way to school.

kukukuku~

Chikage

I decided to shadow Hinata's class for the first few days, I guess mostly out of boredom and curiosity than anything else. Naruto was a lot of fun to watch simply from being an idiot, plus this timeline Iruka got to yell at Naruto because his mom was a teacher. It didn't help, but it was funny.

The only really interesting event was, once again, the sparring matches. To be honest, I was a little excited to see how this would go. In canon, Sasuke wrecked Naruto. But now, Naruto was the son of not only a ninja schoolteacher but also a special jōnin, both of whom taught him some of what they knew. And then I made him train a bit. So odds were Naruto would at least give Sasuke a run for his money. "Start!" Iruka commanded. Naruto charged at Sasuke almost immediately, but instead of getting immediately knocked over he caught Sasuke with a feint. Then he punched him in the face. Naruto did eventually lose, but Sasuke looked genuinely worried about Naruto's ability to fight at points. After the match, Sasuke begrudgingly acknowledged the fact that Naruto was a bit of a tough opponent instead of just being a little jerk.

Next up on the list of noteworthy fights, Hinata versus some kid. Some kid got beat up rather easily, which made me proud. Next, Sakura versus Kiba. I shifted my position a bit to get a better view, a smirk on my nonexistent face.

Kiba grinned and cracked his knuckles. "Sorry, Sakura, but it looks like you're doomed." Sakura whimpered, but clenched her fists. Kiba shrugged. "It's not your fault, of course. It's not like a girl like you could beat up me. Tell you what, I'll give you the first shot." He just stood there with a stupid grin on his face.

Sakura hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. Then, with a determined look on her face, she cocked back her fist, shouted "Shannarō!" and punched him in the gut with about one fourth of her full strength. Kiba was sent flying.

"I... guess... Sakura wins?" Iruka said after a few moments of stunned silence. Sakura blushed as she bashfully returned to where she was sitting and Iruka made sure Kiba was alright. Everyone crowded Sakura, asking her how she did that and calling her awesome. It looked like she was starting to enjoy the attention, at least from the smile she had. I hoped it wouldn't go to her head, though...

kukukuku~

I reclined on the sofa in my secret base's living room and opened up my compact. I could't see how our timeline would go down as far as the Uchiha Massacre yet, but from what I could see that still hadn't stopped being a thing. Foundation plants riling up the Uchiha police force, spreading gossip among the civilian population, and even outright killing people on both sides and framing the others for it pretty much assured that. Even though Chikage was able to pick them off from and into the shadows when nobody was looking with her new Claimed by the Shadows Jutsu (which allowed her to seal objects and even people in her shadow body), they just seemed to keep coming! And of course, while we were able to at least legally detain the insurgents, we couldn't interrogate them, even after I broke their seals. The brainwashing was strong with those guys, and even Yamanaka Inoichi couldn't break their psychic defenses. I guess they were the most prepared for that, having access to Yamanaka of their own...

The portal to the living room opened, and a moment later the Hokage stepped in. "Hokage," I said, then stylishly shut my compact. "Should I offer you something to drink?"

He grunted. "Kouki. What do you have?" I rolled off the couch and flew over to the minifridge.

"Right, let's see..." I opened the fridge and rifled through its contents. "I've got water, milk, chocolate milk, soda, juice, aaaand that's about it on the drinks. I could boil you some water but I don't have tea leaves or anything. Just hot chocolate."

"Is that all you have?"

"Okay in my defense, I don't like tea. And if you mean all I have period, because I recognize that judgy tone of voice, the big fridge over there contains actual food." I pointed to it. "And yes, at the request of my parents that includes veggies. So what do you want?"

"I'll take a water, then." I grabbed a bottle of water for him and a bottle of chocolate milk for me, then went back to my couch. Sarutobi had taken a chair on the opposite side of the table from my couch. I tossed him the water, sat down, and took a sip of my milk.

"So..."

"It's not your fault, you know."

I shrugged. "It'd have happened without me, and I did manage to take out some Foundation stooges. Speaking of which..." I tossed three sleeved cards at him. The good thing about shuriken training was that I could also throw cards at people. "Today's catch."

He examined the three cards, though he made sure not to take them out of the opaque sleeves. "They're getting more active." The cards, by the way, had special seals in them that let me dump things Chikage caught, then remove the Chikage part of the shadows without destabilizing the jutsu. The sleeves kept them in shadow, which was needed to have the jutsu stay once Chikage left.

"I suspect at least some of them are trying to investigate the disappearances." I chuckled. "Danzō's whole 'no individuality' thing is actually biting him in that regard. Most of the Foundation that I've spirited away are nobodies, right?" He nodded. "So he can't use them against us without revealing his entire organization and incriminating himself. And the others have already gone 'missing,' thanks to him. That's the problem with having an organization in the shadows. You're likely to get eaten by a grue."

"Right, well... Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been trying to stop this for over a year now, and from the way things are going it looks like the massacre will still happen."

I shrugged. "This might sound bad, but... well, I've gotten over it? It's looking more and more like we can't prevent the Uchiha massacre no matter what. I mean, I haven't quite given up yet, but if we can't save Shisui then I'll hopefully be fine with just making the massacre not as bad as it could be."

"I see. I suppose your maturity is natural considering your ability to see the future."

I licked my lips. "And the fact that I have, like, seventy-two hour days."

"That too."

I got up and clapped my hands. "Right, unless you have anything else you need me for, I have to go work on homework."

"Congratulations again on getting a younger sister."

"Thanks."

[5hfanfiction]

Something Just Like This (Part 1/2)

Something Just Like This Part (½)

I’ve been reading books of old

The legends and the myths

Achilles and his gold

Hercules and his gifts

Spiderman’s control

And Batman with his fists

And clearly I don’t see myself upon that list

I looked over at the girl snuggled into my side, the peaceful look on her face made me sigh. How was I so lucky? How did someone like her fall for someone like me?

I liked history and reading old books, myths and stories. She liked comic books. Not exactly same same interests, more like opposites attract. Spiderman was her favourite Marvel superhero, and Batman was her favorite DC one. Meanwhile, I would tell her all about Achilles and his faulty heel, how it was his one vulnerability, his one weakness.  We now joke about her being my Achilles heel and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

My Valentine’s day card to her was filled of myths and legends. Like how even Hercule’s with all his strength wouldn’t be able to tear me away from her.

Her card to me makes me chuckle. On the front was a picture of us dressed up for Halloween as Batman and Spiderman, I was Batman because apparently I was mysterious. She was Spiderman because she claimed to have more control than me. I can’t deny her claim, because she makes me crazy.

I had crushed on her since Junior High but I never thought she would go for me. I didn’t fit in her circle, in her life, I didn’t see myself on the list of acceptance. I didn’t think I was good enough for someone like her. It was only after working with her on a history project that I found out she felt the same way about me. That this “list” of traits and attributes that I thought she wanted was wrong, starting with being a guy, not being mandatory.

When we first started dating Camila took a lot of heat about it. She was popular and well, I was not. I was the geeky girl you found in the library. While she was the socialite, always the centre of attention whether she wanted it or not. People would stop and gawk at her, not for her grace, because God she tripped more than anyone I knew. But they gawked because of her beauty, because of her perfection, because everyone wanted to be her. She was the star of the basketball team and had helped the school bring home 2 championships, she was an honours student and what surprised a lot of people was that she was kind. She wasn’t heartless like some of the people she used to hang out with.

No one really understood the dynamic that was her circle of friends. Most had money and looks, and did a good job at flaunting it. But they were one dimensional, they were rude, they were bullies, they were everything except what I valued most in Camila.

I was always open about my sexuality, but Camila was not so when we were just starting out no one knew.

I finally got tired of the hiding, the sneaking around, the secrets. Her going on dates with guys to hide us. I broke up with her and that fight one of the worst moments of my life.

But she said, where’d you wanna go?

How much you wanna risk?

I’m not looking for somebody

With some superhuman gifts

Some superhero

Some fairytale bliss

Just something I can turn to

Somebody I can kiss

I want something just like this

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo

Oh, I want something just like this

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo

Oh, I want something just like this

I want something just like this

  *Flashback 2 years*

Camila was screaming at me, cursing at me with every word in the book. Her tears were heavy and her make-up smudged. But I knew I couldn’t show her how hurt I was, I was so in love with her, even in that moment. Even with her hating me. I was trying to stay emotionless, trying to keep composed and keep a blank face. I knew she just wanted, no needed more of a reaction out of me, but I couldn’t give it to her. My emotionless response was the only way to prevent her from seeing how much she had hurt me by going out with other people. I knew she ‘had to’, to keep the secret, but it killed me inside. I just stood there, refusing to meet her eye, refusing to give up my heart to her again.

But then she said “If this is what you want, then FINE! FINE LAUREN END IT. YOU’RE A COWARD AND YOU NEVER LOVED ME ANYWAY”

I remember losing it, exploding was an understatement.

“WHERE’D YOU WANNA GO? HOW MUCH DID YOU WANNA RISK? I WAS ALL IN CAMILA, I WAS ALWAYS ALL IN. FUCK CAMILA, I’M NOT LOOKING FOR SOMEBODY WITH SOME SUPERHUMAN GIFTS, I JUST WANTED YOU TO CARE.” It started to come out strangled and I found myself losing my voice, but I couldn’t stop, “I wanted you to believe in us, to want me too… But who was I kidding, you have your world in the spotlight and I have mine in the shadows”

I let out a sob, because I let myself feel. I let Camila see the pain, I let her taste my vulnerability, I let my heart break all over again.

“Please just go Camila… you don’t want anyone to see you like this and you don’t want them seeing you with me.”

Camila looked at me dumbfounded. I saw her fighting, or at least I think that’s what she’s doing, with deciding to leave or stay. I decide to choose for her and make a break for it to my car. I don’t look back as I drive away. I know driving like this is dangerous, so I pull over after going a few blocks and I feel my lungs collapsing inwards.

After crying for who knows how long I pull myself together enough and make my way home. My mom greets me when I open the door and I give her a quiet “hey mom”, before retreating to my room. I collapse on my bed and cry myself to sleep.

I wake to the sound of a guitar and all I think is who the fuck is waking me up. I groan at the rude awakening and look at my phone.

2:35 AM

14 text messages from Camila

10 voice mails

Fuck. I stare at my phone contemplating if I should listen to Camila’s messages or read her texts, but I’m struggling to concentrate. The sound of the guitar is still present and I’ve identified that it’s coming from outside. Before I’m able to make up my mind on looking at the messages, the phone starts to play “Starving” in my hand causing me to fumble it and drop it. Shit. I answer it quickly, not even thinking about who it may be or why anyone would call me at 2 in the morning.

“Fuck, Lo! I -”

“Camila I can’t do this right now, why-”

“LOOK OUTSIDE”, I now realize I’m hearing Camila’s voice twice, once through the device in my hand, and one slightly muffled. I shuffle to my window and look out to see Camila in a Spiderman outfit, she waves up at me nervously and motions for me to open the window.

I want to close my blinds, hang up and pretend Camila’s not outside right now, but I can’t. She’s staring up at me with those big brown eyes in that tight spiderman suit, looking like hopeful. I sigh, hang up the phone and open the window.

The guitar rings through the air, soft and sweet. Camila stares up at me before opening her mouth.

“But she said, where’d you wanna go?”

How much you wanna risk?

I’m not looking for somebody

With some superhuman gifts

Some superhero

Some fairytale bliss

Just something I can turn to

Somebody I can kiss

I want something just like this

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo

Oh, I want something just like this

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo

Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo

  Oh, I want something just like this

I want something just like this

  Oh, I want something just like this

I want something just like this”

Camila is still staring at me. I don’t even realize the tears running down my face till they fall into my hands. All I can do is stare at the girl I love, wearing a Spiderman suit, guitar in hand, looking nervous as hell.

“Lo…I was mad earlier today, more than that I was hurt. Only when you yelled at me did I realize how much I was hurting you. You’re the last person I want to hurt, and after you left… well I realized if there’s anyone I’m willing to risk everything with, it’s you. As Uncle Ben once said, “With great power, comes great responsibility”. I’m ready to take on the responsibility of loving you properly, if you’ll let me. So will you please take me back, will you do me the honour in being my girlfriend, the only girl or boy who can take me out, the only one who makes my heart beat a little faster and smile a little bigger”

“Camila, all I wanted was to be with you. To be with you properly. I wanted you to want me as much as I wanted you. Thank you for doing this and I would be honoured to be your girlfriend.”

The smile on Camila’s face made me return the smile.

“Now get your Spidey butt up here, it’s like 3am and I’ve never cuddled a superhero before.”

I’ve been reading books of old

The legends and the myths

The testaments they told

The moon and its eclipse

  *Flash forward 6 months*

“I’ve been reading this book and I don’t know, it’s really old and stuff and I don’t get it. It’s alllll legends or myths or whatever you want to call it. The teacher was like read about Achilles and his fight against Troy-”

“Against Hector of Troy”, I correct absentmindedly.

“Yeah him, anyway one of the testaments in the bible, like the one’s written by David or something is apparently like the legend of Achilles and Hector. Like what is this! Lo, I need your help, you’re so good at this stuff and I don’t get it. How does the teacher expect me to just know what bible passage he’s talking about? Or who the fuck Achilles and Hector are? This isn’t fair”

While Camila was whining to me I was reading an Archie comic thinking. ‘Wow Archie is like the original fuckboy’.

“Lo this is serious! I don’t need to know about Archie”, oh shit, I guess I said that out loud.

“I need to know about this Achilles guy and Hector and this bible shit! Please! I’ll do anything! I just need to know enough to pass my oral history exam on this random ass piece of shit.”

“Camz, don’t call history shit or the bible for that matter and relax I’ll help you, -”

“THANK YOU”

“In exchange you have to watch the moon and it’s eclipse with me tomorrow,”

“DONE, thank you thank you thank you”

“AND you have to tell me about a superhero.”

“Still done! Now teacccccchhhhhh meeeeee”

I chuckle, “Achilles was a mighty warrior, he was charismatic and received the loyalty of many soldiers. He was skilled at warfare and was sometimes compared to a God. He’s referred to in ‘The Iliad”, along with Hector of Troy. Achilles’ force was fighting against the city of Troy and Hector was a prince of Troy. Achilles kills Hector in a climatic fight, but later he is killed by a Trojan soldier who shoots an arrow at his one weakness, his heel. In-”

“Wait, OH MY GOD, THAT’S WHERE THE SAYING ‘YOUR ACHILLES HEEL COMES FROM! MIND BLOWN.” I look at Camila with an eyebrow raised and pretends to zip up her lips.

“As I was saying in The Iliad, Achilles was aware that he would die in battle and believed that the Gods controlled human lives, the actions and consequences. He didn’t believe he could escape his fate. What drew Achilles to fight against the Trojans was the death of his cousin Patroclus. All in all, Achilles was one of the finest warriors in mythology.”

“If he was so fine, then why did he die? Why didn’t he just hide that heel of his? Like if I knew my heel was my only weak spot I’d put a gold plate on it, I’d-”

“Camz, don’t get so worked up baby. It’s just a legend. You have to imagine that Achilles truly believed the Gods controlled his fate and would protect him until it was his time to fall. Also, don’t you think that if he put something big and heavy on his ankle he might be slower and less formidable of a fighter?”

“Okay that’s true, but who would trust fate so blindly? Like what happened to free will and choice?”

“Camz, it’s seriously just a story, but I’m glad you’re thinking and asking questions. Anyway, that basically sums up Achilles. Onto the book of David and bear in mind the book is long, but there’s one specific story that I think aligns nicely with The Iliad. So like there was a guy called David and similar to Achilles he was very charismatic and attracted dutiful soldiers to him. This is the same David who slayed the giant Goliath with a slingshot. Anyway, so David was known to have killed thousands of enemies, similar to Achilles. David had a friend named Jonathan and had a kinship close to that of Achilles and Patroclus, but just like in The Iliad, Jonathan is killed in battle and it hurts David immensely. Now Camila pay attention, because this is the important difference between the two stories.” I waited a second to let things sink in and to ensure she was listening and not just staring at me.

“Okay, so remember how I said Achilles believed everything was up to the gods and fate?” Camila nods her head, so I go on.

“Well, David shaped his own destiny. He didn’t believe his life was already planned out, he shaped it through his bravery and cruelty. What these two stories are highlighting is the difference between blind fate and conscious choice.”

“So like Achilles never believed he had free will? Like everything he was going to do in life was already set in stone and he was just a piece doing the gods work? While David created his own pain, but also his own happiness. His choices shaped his future, right?”

The smile on my face grew, “exactly Camz, I’m really proud of you, I know history is hard for you sometimes.”

“Well you’re a great teacher Lo,” she smiled at me and my heart fluttered as it always does around her.

“So what superhero do you want me to tell you about?”, she’s hanging off the couch now looking at me with those doe brown eyes upside down.

I watch as her glasses start sinking off her face and she’s crossing her eyes for some reason and all I can do is giggle.

“Loooooooooooooo, don’t laugh at me. This is hard.” She whines.

“Well either sit up straight or fix them with your hands. And I want you to tell me about Superman, like how did no one know it was Clark Kent flying around. I mean come on, he wears spandex! He has that one weakness, like kryptor or something”

*gasp* “Lauren Michelle Jauregui, do you actually not know Superman’s ONE WEAKNESS?! How the heck are we dating? It’s kryptonite not kryptor, like what the heck is kryptor?” She rolls her eyes at me and I glare at her. I was close at least.

“Okay Ms. Kal - El, stop criticizing me and tell me about Superman.”

“Okay shhhhhhh! So Superman was born as you know Kal - El on the planet Krypton. His parents knew Krypton was going to be destroyed so they sent their baby son to Earth and was raised by human foster parents, Martha and Jonathan Kent.

It didn’t take long to realize that Clark Kent was no ordinary boy. He knew he had a duty to the world, to protect it and as he grew up he knew no one around him would be safe if they knew who he was. No one could know Clark Kent and Superman were the same, so he figured hiding in plain sight would be the best way. He became a news reporter so he could be at the scene of every crime, he would dress in a suit and glasses.

He looked like your typical dorky nerd. Super smart, really nice, nerdy handsome and always wore a suit. Whenever trouble arose he’d go into a phone booth and strip himself of his clothes to his superhero suit. He flew in a suit so people could identify him, to become a symbol of hope.

I really admire Superman to be honest and I was going to wear my new Superman suit today, but Marvel sent me a medium instead of a small.”

Camila pouts and crosses her arms.

“I look like a drowning fish in it”. She opens her phone and turns it around to show me a picture of her in it.

I feel my eyes bulging and before I know it, “bahahhahahahah OH MY GOD! CAMILA SEND ME THAT!”

“Never, I’m deleting it now! And you can’t stop me”, I take Camila’s words as a challenge and launch myself at her.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”, Camila shrieks, “Lo nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo”.

She struggles in vain as I pin her down onto the couch. My knees on her arms and my weight on her chest. Not enough pressure to hurt her, but enough to stop her from being able to move.

“So Camila, I think I stopped you,” I smirk down at my girlfriend who’s glaring up at me.

“This isn’t fair, you just caught me by surprise.”

“Oh, sureeeee I did Ms. Basketball star.” I find it adorable as she tries to appear mad at me, but I know she enjoys being pinned underneath me.

I catch her staring at my lips for a second before glancing back at my eyes. I can see the need and hunger in them. The fire. I feel myself giving into her eyes, to her hunger and shared desire. Before I know it, I’m leaning down and feel her lips on mine. The softness, the slight taste of the pizza we had for lunch and the Camila-eeee taste that’s always present.

I feel a throb between my legs and want more friction. I realize I still have my legs on her arms so I shuffle myself around to straddle the brown eyed girl. My hips begin grinding themselves against her centre. We both moan from the contact. My hands begin roaming her body, when –

“OOF” THUMP, scampering followed by a door slamming.

I feel myself landing on the floor, opening my eyes confused. What the fuck?

“Now you’ll never have the picture Lo! Muwhahahahahah! I win! I win! I win!”

I groan, “Camilaaaaa couldn’t you have done that after? We were kind of busy over here.”

I hear a door opening, followed by racing footsteps. Before I even turn my head in their direction I feel the weight of my girlfriend on my chest.

“Well hey there Camz”

“Lauren,” she says curtly.

“So where were we?”

“Right here you green eyed sex fiend”

Her lips melt against mine, her body fits into my arms and all is right in the world.

A/N: Not sure when I’ll get to part 2. It’ll be shorter than this. Hope you enjoyed this and if you didn’t alas, I will try harder. Leave constructive criticism please