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chelseachilly · 1 year

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king of my heart - pt 1

i’m perfectly fine, i live on my own i made up my mind, i’m better off being alone

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: Of all the men in London, Ben Chilwell would’ve been extremely low on the list of who you would expect to meet at a random party your friend dragged you to. You know who he is, obviously - your younger brother is a massive Chelsea fan, as was your dad before he passed away unexpectedly a couple years ago - but you hardly run in the same circles as professional footballers. Until now. warnings: mentions of death of a parent, takes place in a fantasy world in which chelsea will plausibly beat arsenal this season word count: 2.5k

author’s note: hi! i’m very new to the tumblr football world but needed a distraction from chelsea’s current situation, so here we are! i’ve noticed there aren’t enough fics for ben and this is my first time writing for him, pls let me know what you think and feel free to hmu about all things chelsea :) title from king of my heart by taylor obv

*faceclaims for y/n and your best friend are camila morrone and suki waterhouse bc i am obsessed with daisy jones and the six lmao

Of all the men in London, Ben Chilwell would’ve been extremely low on the list of who you would expect to meet at a random party your friend dragged you to.

You know who he is, obviously - your younger brother is a massive Chelsea fan, as was your dad before he passed away unexpectedly a couple years ago - but you hardly run in the same circles as professional footballers.

Until now.

A few months ago, your flatmate and best friend Charlotte got an amazing new job in PR. Since then, she’s been invited to a million fancy events and met a lot of famous (and semi-famous) people. Just last week, she went to the opening of a new club and apparently met some incredible, funny, super attractive guy who invited her to a party at his house tonight.

Although you’ve been really trying to push yourself to go out more lately and enjoy being young in the city, your idea of a perfect Friday night is often just staying in and reading or watching Netflix, so you still take some convincing.

“Charlotte, do you even know anything about this Mason guy?” You ask as Charlotte begins to put her makeup on in the bathroom of your shared flat, a tiny but cute two-bed in North London. “Like, his last name, his job, anything?”

“Nope,” Charlotte shrugs. “But I know he’s fit, and probably posh because the address he gave me is in South Kensington.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were a gold digger now?”

“I’m not, but posh means open bar,” Charlotte grins. “Now hurry up and get ready.”

You reluctantly drag yourself up off the floor and go to your closet to put on your favourite little black dress - a safe bet for any party, regardless of how casual or fancy it might be.

After doing your hair and makeup and taking a couple shots to ease any social anxiety brewing in your stomach, Charlotte calls an Uber and you’re on your way. You quickly post a photo of the two of you before you leave.

yourusername

liked by charlottewright, yourmum, & 102 others

yourusername by the way, we’re going out tonight ✨

tagged: charlottewright

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charlottewright hell yeahhhh

yourmum Beautiful girls! xx

yourusername thanks mum x

When you reach the address this Mason guy gave Charlotte, there’s music blaring from the house. Several very expensive-looking sports cars are parked outside, and there are a few people sitting on the front steps, drinking and laughing.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Charlotte says as your car pulls up. She can obviously tell that you’re worried about socializing with all these strangers, especially ones way above your tax bracket. “We’ll get some drinks and have fun. Hey, maybe Mason has some cute friends he can introduce you to?”

You roll your eyes. Dating is far from a priority for you at the moment, having just begun the career in publishing that you’ve wanted since you were a little girl. Work is your focus, but you know Charlotte is right. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Before you can even fully get out of the car, still straightening out your dress and making sure you have your phone and purse, you hear Charlotte yell “Mason!” and run over to the group of people on the steps.

As you follow her and finally get a good look at the guy Charlotte won’t shut up about, you nearly trip over your own feet.

You recognize him instantly - Mason Mount, Chelsea midfielder. You may not follow the club the way you used to before your dad died two years ago, but you remember watching Mount score a hat trick during one of the last games you went to.

Charlotte doesn’t follow football at all, so you figure she also has no idea that standing next to Mason are his England national teammates Declan Rice and Jude Bellingham.

You, however, can’t help but be a little starstruck. Football was a big part of your life growing up, and it’s a bit surreal to see all these athletic superstars right in front of you.

Thankfully, they’re all occupied with Charlotte and don’t seem to notice you until you regain your bearings and walk over to Charlotte’s side.

“Y/N, this is Mason and Declan,” Charlotte grins. “And what was your name again, sorry?”

“Jude,” Bellingham answers, smiling at you and shaking your hand. “What’s your name, love?”

“Y/N,” you answer, trying not to blush at the attention as Mason and Declan greet you.

“Well, come on in, ladies,” Mason smiles, gesturing to the front door. “Bar’s in the back, and there’s loads of food in the kitchen.”

As Mason leads the way into the house, which is just as massive and stunning as its exterior, you hang back a bit and grip Charlotte’s arm tightly.

“What is it?” Charlotte asks, furrowing her eyebrow.

“Charlotte, they’re not just posh, they’re footballers,” you explain, gesturing to the literal Champions League trophy casually sitting on a shelf. “Like, some of the best in the country.”

“Footballers?” Charlotte’s eyes widen for a moment. “Oh my god, so you know who they are?”

“Yeah, babes,” you chuckle. “Mason plays for Chelsea. I’ve watched him play for Chelsea.”

Charlotte’s face falls a bit, and she lowers her voice. “Oh, shit, do you want to leave? I know Chelsea was your thing with your dad-“

“No, no,” you wave her off with a small smile. “It’s alright, let’s have fun. He is super fit, and he probably finds it endearing that you clearly have no idea who he is.”

“Now that I think about it, he did mention having training in the morning last weekend. I think I asked what he was training for.” Charlotte laughs. “Shit, that’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Nah, he seems into you,” you comment, noting the way Mason’s eyes are glued to Charlotte as the two of you continue to speak privately. “Now go talk to him, I’m gonna go get a drink.”

Charlotte nods and returns to Mason’s side. God, it feels strange to see your best friend chatting up a guy you watched play in the World Cup on TV a few months ago.

You make your way to the back garden, weaving your way through lots of guys - some of whom you recognize as other footballers - and lots of very pretty girls. As promised, there is a full-service bar outside, and you order a vodka coke for yourself.

Thanking the bartender, you decide to stay out here for a few minutes. You’ll return to the party eventually, but you want to give Charlotte some alone time with Mason and despite your assurances that everything is fine, it’s a lot to digest being in the home of an actual Chelsea player.

Most of the partygoers are inside, with only a few people out back having a smoke or going to the bar. You find yourself a quiet spot in the back of the garden and sit on a patio chair, crossing your legs and leaning back as you enjoy your drink.

You pull out your phone and can’t resist pulling up and old photo of you and your dad at a Chelsea match when you were six years old, both of you smiling in blue. Although it’s difficult to look at, it makes you smile, too - you remember how Chelsea beat Liverpool 3-0 that day and how happy your dad was on the drive home. You’ll always treasure those memories.

“Hey, mind if I sit?”

A male voice prompts you to glance up from your phone. It really shouldn’t surprise you to see yet another familiar face at this point, but the man in front of you nearly takes your breath away.

You recognize him right away - the shiny dark hair, the piercing eyes - he’s unmistakable. He’s even more handsome in person than on TV, if that’s possible. Ben fucking Chilwell.

“Yeah, go for it,” you say, gesturing to the other chair and trying very hard not to stare at him too much.

Ben, who is holding a beer and wearing a hoodie and jeans with a pair of Air Force Ones, looks fascinatingly normal to you for someone who you know for a fact scored a Premier League goal just this afternoon - your sixteen year-old brother Max mentioned it when you spoke earlier, still as big of a Chelsea fan as your dad was. Luckily, losing your dad didn’t poison the game for him the way it did you.

“I’m Y/N,” you blurt out, feeling the need to explain yourself and your presence here for some reason. “I came with my flatmate Charlotte, she met Mason at some club last week.”

“I’m Ben,” he says with a small smile. “Mase and I…uh, work together.”

“Yeah, I know,” you chuckle. When he raises an eyebrow, you continue - there’s really no point in sitting here pretending you don’t know who he is. “My brother’s a massive Chelsea fan.”

“Ah,” Ben smiles, taking a swig of his beer. “Charlotte didn’t seem to have any idea who we were last weekend.” He seems to realize he may have come off a bit arrogant there, as he quickly shakes his head. “Not that she should. I was just-“

“All good,” you interject. “And for the record, I love her to death, but Charlotte thought Man City was a gay bar a couple weeks ago. She’s not much of a football fan.”

Ben laughs so hard he nearly spits out some of his beer, and you can’t help but laugh along with him - his smile is completely contagious. It also seems to be the first genuine one you’ve seen since he sat down.

“Fair enough,” he laughs, setting down his beer and turning his chair to face you properly. “So, Y/N, what brings you to this secluded corner of the garden? Not enjoying yourself?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Chilwell,” you smirk, taking a sip of your cocktail.

Frankly, you’re impressed with how cool you’re being given the situation. It’s not even the fact that he’s famous. Sure, you were starstruck at first, but now you just can’t stop looking at him. At those hands clutching the cold beer bottle, that fluffy hair that you’re dying to reach out and touch, those damn eyes…

“Well, I’m a bit knackered, to be honest,” he admits. “But I wanted to come out and celebrate the win. Honestly, I’m waiting til it’s late enough that I can leave without the lads calling me an old man at training on Monday.”

You laugh and nod sympathetically.

“I get what you mean. I kinda got dragged out tonight as well,” you say. “I wasn’t really in the mood to talk to a bunch of strangers after a long work day, but Charlotte wanted me here and she’s my best friend, so-“

“I’m happy to leave you alone if you’d prefer it,” Ben says quickly. “Well, not happy, but I can. If that’s what you want.”

You shake your head, maybe a bit too quickly.

“No, please,” you smile. “I was in budget meetings all day, but you scored a goal against Arsenal. I think that earns you a spot to sit.”

Ben raises an eyebrow and grins. “Sounds like you’re a fan as well, no?”

“I’m…not not a fan.” He looks confused, so you decide to elaborate a bit. “My dad was a massive supporter. We were season tickets holders at Stamford Bridge until he died a couple years ago. My brother, he’s sixteen, still follows the team, and he keeps me updated, but I haven’t really…well, it hasn’t been quite the same for me since then.”

Though you still miss your dad dearly, time has healed the pain enough for you to be able to talk about him like this. Although, you did have to stare at your shoes the whole time to get through it, and when you look up, Ben’s eyes are wide and full of concern.

You immediately worry that you just majorly overshared with this complete stranger.

“Sorry, you didn’t need to know all that,” you murmur, fiddling with the material of your dress. “I don’t even know you-“

“No, please don’t apologize,” Ben says in a much softer tone than he was using before. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” you say with a sad smile. He holds your gaze, and you can’t help but feel comforted by his warm expression. Then, all of a sudden, a laugh escapes your lips, surprising Ben. “Sorry, I just…I was thinking about what my dad would say if he knew I was talking to the man he once described as ‘the best left-back in the country’ at a party.”

“Wow, that’s high praise,” Ben smiles. “Your dad sounds pretty great.”

“He was, but I love that your reason for thinking that is him praising you as a footballer,” you laugh softly. “To be fair, he was a big fan of Mount and Havertz as well.”

“Oh, well, never mind then,” Ben jokes, making you laugh even harder.

Probably harder than you’ve laughed in years.

The conversation continues as you each finish your drinks, and after Ben gets you a couple more rounds. You talk about everything - your job in publishing, his life growing up, both of your favourite films and music.

You don’t even realize how late it is until you see a much drunker Charlotte come outside with Mason keeping her upright. Despite her protests that she’s fine, you and Mason both agree you’d better get her home and to bed. After giving her some water, Mason calls an Uber for both of you, and in all the commotion, you barely get the chance to say goodbye to Ben.

It’s not until you get home and take care of Charlotte that you realize you didn’t even get his number. You could get Charlotte to ask Mason for it tomorrow, you suppose, but you don’t want to come across as desperate.

You aren’t even looking for a relationship. You just happened to meet a cute, funny, smart guy at a party who probably has girls lining up around the block just to sleep with him. It’s not like this is going to turn into anything.

Right?

You wake the next morning in Charlotte’s bed - you passed out next to her after making sure she had water and a bin next to her in case she got sick - to a loud buzzing sound.

“Too early,” Charlotte grumbles, feeling the beginnings of a bad hangover. “Turn it off.”

You reach over to the bedside table to silence your phone, but you quickly glance at the Instagram notification before you turn it off.

benchilwell

Hey, I found your insta through Charlotte’s, sorry if that’s stalkery lol

benchilwell

I had a lot of fun last night. Any chance you want to hang out again sometime?

“Oh my god,” you mumble groggily. “Ben Chilwell just slid into my DMs.”

Charlotte, still half-asleep, rubs her eyes and turns to face you. “Who the fuck is Ben Chilwell?”

next chapter 💙

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell x y/n #ben chilwell imagine #chelsea fc #komh

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unclewaynemunson · 2 years

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Hello!

This post gives an overview of all my writing. All my fics are below the cut, and you can find my shorter ficlets & drabbles that I only posted on tumblr here :)

Normal things, baby! universe:

‘86, baby! (words: 58k) After they all survive Vecna (death? i don’t know her. and eddie definitely doesn’t either), everyone struggles with getting back to whatever “normal” is supposed to mean and new friendships are forged along the way, possibly even developing into something more eventually.

‘93, baby! (words: 2k) From Wayne’s POV, taking place 7 years after ‘86, baby! and reflecting on some of the moments from that fic, but also readable independently from ‘86, baby!

It’s Christmas, baby! (words: 5.5k) Four Christmas-themed oneshots that give some insight in the future after the events of ‘86, baby!

&Currently working on a Ronance-focused one taking place in the same universe :D

Fruity four fics:

Maybe if I was straight (words: 44k) AU based on the movie But I’m a Cheerleader, in which the fruity four meet each other because they end up in the same gay conversion therapy camp. Also, prepare for MANY supporting characters making appearances. And basically everyone is gay so that’s a bonus I guess.

The time of the year that you really need love (words: 14k) Christmas-themed fake-dating AU in which Steve and Robin, and Nancy and Eddie, pretend to be a couple.

Bee mine? (words: 5k) In which Steve and Robin are beekeepers, Eddie is a baker and Nancy a local journalist. The first chapter is all about Steddie and the second one about Ronance.

Steddie fics (mostly one-shots):

Friends don’t leave (words: 20k) In which Eddie leaves Hawkins, goes off the rails for a bit, and Steve continuously refuses to give up on him. (This was originally a one-shot so you can also only read the 1st chapter (words: 8k) if you prefer shorter fics)

It’s buzzcut season anyway (words: 2k) In which Steve finds out that Eddie’s hair is actually a wig.

The gayest chicken in Hawkins (words: 7k) In which a game of gay chicken between Steve and Eddie gets completely out of hand.

Beyond the yellow sweater (words: 3k) In which Eddie goes absolutely feral when he sees Mr. Harrington beating the shit out of Steve.

Basketball night (words: 1.5k) In which Steve is desperate to get Eddie's uncle to like him, and Eddie is just as desperate to get his uncle to like his boyfriend.

All I needed was the love you gave (words: 3,5k) In which Steve introduces Eddie to his parents.

Roses & Sunshine (words: 8k) In which Steve and Eddie meet at Hawkins’ community center. Eddie is there for guitar lessons, Steve for the daycare center. Misunderstandings ensue.

Not my type (words: 7k) In which Wayne meets Steve at a baseball match and wants to set him up with Eddie. Eddie is very much not into it.

Say you, say me (words: 3k) In which Steve and Eddie don’t quite have the same opinion about what Valentine’s Day is about.

The difference between a poem and a love letter (words: 5k) In which Eddie is a songwriter who likes to read poetry to find inspiration for new songs, and Steve a poet who finds his inspiration in music.

I will love your shadow (words: 3k) In which the bat-attack has left Eddie beyond repair and he has to come to terms with living with a stoma.

I’ll bring you flowers (in the pouring rain) (words: 7k) In which Eddie dates Steve without really believing he changed.

Until you face the rope (words: 5k) In which Eddie faces a trial for the crimes he didn’t commit.

Soul Mate (words: 1k) In which Steve and Eddie ponder what it means to get married and whether or not soulmates exist.

Ronance fics:

I’d kiss you if it wouldn’t kill me (words: 19k; inspired by Pushing Daisies but you don’t need to know anything about the show to read this) In which Nancy possesses the power to bring people back to life with a single touch. When Robin dies at the hands of Vecna, Nancy is there to save her. But there are some repercussions. The most important of them? If they ever touch again, Robin will die – and there will be no way back. After Vecna is defeated and Hawkins seems safe again, the two girls have to navigate what exactly this means for the bond they share.

Chamomile Christmas (words: 3k) In which Robin meets Nancy in a coffee shop on Christmas Eve.

The perfect girl for you (words: 9k) In which Wayne sets up Robin with Nancy, but things aren’t going as smoothly as Robin had hoped.

And suddenly we’re Thelma and Louise (words: 9k) In which Robin and Nancy make a roadtrip from Boston to Mexico, guided by a list of things Nancy feels like she missed out on during her college years.

The art of kissing a girl (That’s what friends are for, right?) (words: 4k) In which Nancy helps Robin prepare for a date with Vickie by giving her some kissing lessons.

Others:

I owe you nothing, I owe you my life (WIP) In which Eddie finds out that Karen Wheeler is his mother.

My life in the lines of your hand (words: 17k) In which the soft romance of my most beloved rarepair Wayne Munson and Scott Clarke gets explored through a series of defining moments for them.

#fanfic #stranger things #fruity four #steddie #ronance #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #wayne munson #fanfiction #ao3

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cellythefloshie · 10 months

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;; All I Want Dedicated to @callsign-denmark for her birthday bingo

Summary: This year, to make it easy on her family, Claire is celebrating her birthday in Raleigh. She would prefer a more private event, something just for family, but when your brother was the Captain of an NHL team: family extended to a roster of 21 she barely knew - including goaltender Frederick Andersen. M's Bingo Card Tropes: Whirl-wind romance, Captain’s sister, FreeSpace - children/babies (Claire's nieces and nephews), “Let’s celebrate tonight”, “please stay”, Summer Birthday Kinks & TW: age gap, love at first sight, soulmates, in public (briefly), thigh riding, alcohol consumption (no mentions of intoxication), sundress season, virginity/first time, size kink/height difference (5'2 & 6'4), vaginal fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (are we even going to pretend to be surprised by this?), implied heels kink, pet name: flower. Original Character: Claire is the baby sister of the Staal family. Face Claim: Dove Cameron. Word Count: 8.6k+ A/N: Happy birthday girlie! I hope that this little (ha) story I've put together for you fulfils your birthday bingo dreams and more! Also, damn you! The sinful things I thought about this man while writing this. There is no going back after this one. And full disclosure this was based solely on like 1 interview I watched and a handful of pictures on the internet because I know next to nothing about Freddie BUT I like to think I did a pretty damn good job with him. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to celebrate your day with you! 🎉

Playlist.

Claire didn’t like big birthday parties, but when you were a Staal you didn’t get much of a choice in the matter. Her parents were always in attendance, then came her four older brothers, and with them their wives, and their children. You would think that it would have stopped there, but when your brothers all played in the NHL - and when one happened to be the Captain of the team in the very city she was holding her little get-together - players or two were bound to show up as family. Claire didn’t mind all that much, she liked the guys Jordan played with and it always made for an entertaining night - even if that meant feeling like a bystander at her own birthday party.

Without knowing for sure just how many people would show up, her parents had taken the opportunity to reserve a private patio as her restaurant of choice - and it made Claire all the more sound with her choice to wear the light and flowy blue sundress patterned with daisies. It had been a dress she had been looking for an excuse to wear. The skirt of the dress stopped just above her knees, and the bodice was fitted to show her figure without being too heavy on her skin. The Carolina heat would weigh on her enough throughout the evening, she didn’t need an uncomfortable outfit to ruin her night. Instead, she would leave that to her shoes.

Claire was small. Standing merely 5’2, she had been dwarfed by every single one of her brothers who stood at 6’4. The moment she had stopped growing, she had committed to a lifetime of being someone who had to wear heels. She wore them wherever she needed them, no matter how uncomfortable or impractical they may be, and had mastered the art of walking and running in them. Which was already coming in handy as the night was young as she was chasing around her all too energetic nieces and nephews.

For the most part, the 12 children, varying in ages, could entertain themselves - or were glued to the hips of their mothers as they were too young or too shy to venture out onto the open patio space around the table. But Claire, she had a reputation to uphold. As the youngest child, who was proudly single, she was the embodiment of the Fun Aunt. She spoiled them with gifts and wasn’t one to shy away from being a little too rambunctious - even if that meant drawing a little too much attention as everyone arrived.

“Look who we have here,” the voice had Claire perking up from where her nieces and nephews came at her in an onslaught of affection, demanding to be picked up and swung around or carried on her back, “an overgrown child.”

The playful jab had her beaming, a smile bright as a ray of sunshine as her eyes fell on the culprit, “Brady!”

Skjei had only been on Carolina for a few seasons, but with his history playing with the Rangers alongside her brother Marc, he was a familiar face at family gatherings. “You made it,” she lowered one of the children back to the ground, giving the others a quick apology as she excused herself to greet the Carolina Hurricanes defenceman to her party.

“Of course,” he smiled, his arms opening wide to welcome Claire into his embrace, “biggest bash of the off-season, when have I ever missed it?”

For a moment, she pondered in his arms. Lips pursed her head tilted from side to side. She couldn’t quite remember the last time she had a birthday without him being there. Marc had invited him all the way back in Skjei’s rookie season when it had been her sweet sixteen. She had a schoolgirl crush on him back then, but now she couldn’t look at him without seeing more than another brother.

“Never, ever,” she decided after a moment and stepped back from his hold, “so what did you get me?”

Brady scoffed as if she had offended him, “You mean I’m not enough?” Claire shook her head slowly, bouncing her feet with anticipation as she held her hands behind her back. She looked misleadingly sweet, and innocent when in reality she was far from it. “Alright, alright, you got me. Mom took it from me when I got in. You’ll know it’s from me when you open it.”

“Oh, so it’s a good one,” Claire laughed.

“They always are, aren’t they?”

“Of course,” she pushed his chest playfully before leaning off to the side to look around him, “didn’t drag the team along with you this time?”

“Not many of the guys back in town yet,” he hummed, looked back over his shoulder to where the brothers had gathered, “just Derek and Freddie-”

Claire perked up, “who?”

She knew who, well kind of. Frederick Andersen had been the team’s primary goaltender - except when his injuries had plagued the season - since was signed back in 2021. And while it had been years since that initial contract, she had yet to meet him. Which was a damn shame, because from what she could tell he was gorgeous.

“You haven’t met Freddie?” Brady raised a brow, his arm around to cradle your back as you both turned in place to try to find him in the crowd. Which wasn’t all that difficult when he towered as tall as her brothers. Her eyes settled on him as he stood by the table with her brother Jordan, and glass in his hand as the two of them shared conversation. Just the sight of the towering Danish goaltender left her stomach aflutter with butterflies. He really was gorgeous with his strawberry blonde hair that was slicked back like James Dean and a smile that left her weak in the knees.

“Com’on then, let’s go meet him,” Brady’s words were a mere echo in her mind as he pressed against her lower back to ease her into her stride.

She followed his guidance carefully, her every stride bringing her closer to Freddie, and giving her eyes something more to admire. First, she noticed the stubble that framed those lips that she was sure could talk her into anything. Then, was how his t-shirt hung off the strength of his shoulders peaked at his chest before hanging loose around his west. Her eyes travelled down over his hips and she had half the mind to stop there but then she saw her thighs. Claire was left near salivating that how they tested the elasticity of his denim jeans. She had no doubt that they were thick - strong and it only left her wishing he had been wearing shorts just so she could indulge in the sight of them. To see how they flexed when he walked, or how they would spread over his seat as he sat-

“Earth to Claire!” Her mind had been lost, her gaze up on the watercolour skies as her mind wondered only for Jordan’s humoured tone to cut through and end any sinful thought that threatened to overtake her. “You alright there kiddo?”

Claire wrinkled her nose, at the nickname. She was very much a grown woman now, and it was still a nickname she could shake thanks to being the baby of the family. Yet, she didn’t fight him on it and instead spoke out in a soft, apologetic hum, “I’m sorry, I must have just gotten distracted. The sky is just beautiful right now, isn’t it.”

“She is,” the unfamiliar voice left her head snapping in its direction. The two, simple words had slipped from Freddie’s lips, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she had heard them right. Surely, her mind was playing tricks on her and he had said it and not she. Right?

“What was that?” she cocked her head at him, her bright blue eyes raising to meet the sweet chocolate hue of his stare for the first time. Claire had only meant to indulge herself in a quick glance, but the moment her eyes found his her stare was locked for his gaze was down on her as well. The air around her seemed to be lost, her lungs suffocating on the mere presence of him as she waited for even a single word to leave his perfect lips.

Claire watched as his smile waivered on his lips, curling from a small smirk to a wider grin before settling back into that smug smirk again. She knew in an instant that he wasn’t going to get the answer she was looking for. Instead, she was met by the reach of his large hand, and let his lips part in a simple introduction, “Freddie.”

Her brows were drawn together at the offer - a handshake, really? What was this? A business meeting? Yet, she humoured him, her hand left feeling dainty as it was consumed by his touch. It engulfed her like the overwhelming embrace of an ocean wave. Lungs struggled to take even a single breath as the warmth of his touch consumed every inch of her body. Then, she was lost in his gaze, drawing in every bit of his attention and drowning in it. Claire held his hand for too long, she knew it and she was sure her brother had noticed too, and yet her touch on his hand remained as she finally manages a slow and steady breath before saying nothing more than her own name.

“The birthday girl,” Freddie hummed out, and her stomach fluttered.

Something told Claire that he could call her anything and she would be left swooning.

“That’s right,” Claire hummed her fingers still lingering on his, failing to let go of his hand, “and I think that means you have to get me a drink.”

Claire hadn’t meant to be so flirtatious with her words, especially not with her brother and Brady standing right there. Yet it left her lips so shamelessly, and her boldness hasn’t failed her.

Gripping her fingers between his own, Freddie drew her in just close enough to wrap her arm around his so that she held onto the breadth of his forearm so he could guide her off to the bar - leaving Jordan and Brady behind them before either could interject. Her delicate fingers gripped gently at his strength, her heart both dreading having to let go of him and racing at just how he felt between her touch. Touching him felt like the first sip of water after days of needing to drink. It was unlike anything Claire had ever felt from something so simple and it left her breathless as she came to the bar.

His words were an echo in her mind as he ordered his drink, and then his gaze came down on her again, patiently waiting for her to tell him just what she liked to drink.

“Paloma, please,” she muttered sweetly, her hand still on his arm as she looked only to him with little acknowledgement to the bartender.

And when their order was made, and they were left to stand and wait patiently at the bar, Freddie turned so that he was facing her fully and his towering frame leaned up against the bar. The casual tilt brought him a little closer to her level, giving her a good look at the smirk on his lips and the glimmer in her eyes. For a moment, neither of them spoke and just stared. Claire with undoubtedly smitten with him - and maybe if she believed in love at first sight, this would be it. Because the way he stared at her with those sweet brown eyes of his had her convinced that he was feeling it all too.

“So, birthday girl,” Freddie finally hummed as his frosted glass of amber liquor was placed down in front of him and alongside it the grapefruit garnish contrasted it with its femininity, “what are we drinking to?”

Her hand reached out, tracking hold of the glass before raising it between them, “To my brother for having such generous teammates.”

Freddie chuckled lowly, his large hand wrapping around his glass before he raised it between them. Together they took a shallow sip, their eyes locked. It was almost enough to make her choke, but she managed a slow breath and maintained her composure.

“Now, hard question,” Claire hummed, taking a small step in, “How’d I get so lucky to have you as a guest at my party?”

She watched as his smile grew as he stole another sip of his drink, “contract negotiations,” he answered simply.

“I think that means we will have to toast to Don as well.”

“We can save that one for when I sign.”

“Which means I’ll need your phone number,” she bit her tongue as she realized what she had just so blatantly done. She could feel her cheeks flush with colour, her heart thundering with regret. Claire knew better than to hit on her brother’s teammates. For their sanity and her own - and the safety of the poor player who even wanted to take the risk of toying with her heart. Yet, she persisted, “You know, so we can celebrate.”

Placing his glass down, Freddie dipped his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone before it joined his drink in the bar. His silent question asked Claire to put her number in his phone.

Claire glanced to the side, across the patio to where her brothers were talking with Derek and Brady. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Placing her drink down, she took his phone in both hands and typed in her name and number before hanging it back to him. Claire had expected him to tuck the phone away but took the time to text her quickly. Sending her phone into a dreamy chime with the notification. It was a sound she had come to hate, but now it excited her.

“You think I gave you a fake number?” She teased him gently.

“No, no,” Freddie chuckled, his head shaking slowly, “not at all, I-”

His words were broken by the clamour of children’s footsteps as her nieces and nephews stormed the table for dinner. “I think that our queue,” Claire’s words were a half sigh as she drew her hand back from his forearm. The moment she released him from her gentle touch it was as if she were a battery that had been charged but her current was beginning to fade. It was a feeling unlike any other she had felt before, and her gaze on him lingered for a moment as she wondered if he felt it too.

Managing a smile she stepped back and fell into stride towards the table, leaving Freddie at the bar behind her. Her lips moved in a silent What the fuck? as her mind couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened, and what she had just let herself do. She carried her Paloma in one hand, while the other reached up to push her blonde hair from her face. It stayed there, her fingers knotted in her hair at the crown of her head as she moved to sit at the head of the table.

Seat by seat the table was filled until a single seat was left to be taken at her side, and one person remained standing. Claire held her breath as the patio chair was dragged against the ground and filled by Freddie who had come to the table with a fresh drink for them both. He placed it down in front of her without a thought or a look in her direction, leaving her jaw slacked in disbelief - but she was quick to press her lips firm together when she noticed her nephew mimicking her as he sat opposite to Freddie.

Claire’s lips curled up into a smile as her nephew grinned at the realization that he had been caught. “You gotta be on your best behaviour mister,” she told her nephew, leaning in to smile at him, but it only made him laugh. While it was her birthday she got stuck sitting at the kid’s end of the table. If the kid was old enough to eat without the help of their parents they were exiled to her end of the table, which often featured at least one of her brother’s wives, but tonight the Carolina goaltender had filled their place.

“I’m not joking,” Claire claimed, and it only had her nephew grinning a troublemaker’s grin, “we got a guest with us, Mr. Andersen. You don’t want to scare him away do you?”

Holy fuck. She thought. Mr. Andersen. It felt so weird, yet so good on her tongue and it left her head spiralling as she helped her nephew with his menu. Freddie Andersen. Frederick Andersen. Mrs. Frederick Andersen. The thought left her feeling giddy as the name echoed in her mind as if she were a schoolgirl scrawling his name across her notebook. That’s what this had to be, a schoolgirl crush of an infatuation. It was the only explanation for it all.

With that thought, she tried to put all she had felt for him that evening behind her. To forget the anomaly that was her intense pull to him - but there was no ignoring him as he sat right beside her with the spread of his legs just enough to graze against her leg beneath the table. There was no ignoring how easy the casual conversation came between them, or just how good he was with her nieces and nephews when their antics carried out throughout the dinner service. Freddie fit in so effortlessly, so flawlessly that it was as if he had been there the whole time. That fact left Claire dreading having to say goodbye.

It was a heavy weight in her stomach as she stood at the door of the restaurant, thanking her family and friends for coming. Her nieces and nephews were the first to accept their hugs, sad that they had to say goodbye to their Auntie Claire, but they were tired and didn’t put up much of a fight when they were told to get in the car. The crowd thinned and soon she was left with her parents, and with Freddie who lingered back by the door. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she told her parents she wanted to take a walk before heading back to the hotel. To go on without her, and when they left her she stood alone with a single gift bag in her hand. Then, she looked straight at Freddie.

“Did you think I was going to let you run off before I got to say goodbye?” Claire called out to him, her casual stride carrying him toward him.

He met her halfway, a smile on his lips, “quite the opposite, actually.”

Claire beamed. He had been waiting to catch her alone.

“Let's celebrate tonight, just the two of us?” Claire asked him slowly, her hand dipping into the bag to brandish a bottle of Canadian whiskey that Brady had given her for her birthday.

His eyes seemed to flicker with the light of a flame as his hand dinner into the pocket of his trousers. Drawing out his keys he held them up for her to see, “Where do you want to go?”

“I have a room at the Residence Inn,” Claire told him, with a smile and let him lead the way to his car.

Upon arriving at the hotel, and with his car taken care of by the valet, Claire lead him through the hotel but did not go up to her room. The night was too beautiful to waste it in bed, and it would have been much too forward - though she wouldn’t have complained if that was all Freddie had wanted from her - instead, she lead him out to the darkened patio. It was closed, but she slipped beneath the half-assed barricade and crawled up onto one of the loungers in the corner just out of sight of the security camera she was sure hadn’t worked in the first place.

Chuckling, Freddie followed her lead - much more gracefully than she had expected - and sprawled out on the lounger across from her. The seat was too short for him, his foot handing off the end even as he was seated up at an angle. Claire could help but stare as he sat there, his auburn hair hanging down over his forehead and his clothes so relaxed on his frame. So effortlessly handsome, she admired him as she reached into her gift bag and grew out the bottle. Manicured fingers picked at the plastic that sealed the bottle, and she let it fall to the ground before twisting the cap free. She took the first, long sip and let the whiskey burn its way through her body before holding it out for Freddie to take.

His large hand wrapped around the neck of the body, his fingers grazing over the skin of her hand for a moment before she could pull back. Claire could still feel the ghost of his touch as she lay back and stared up at the sky. Just beyond an awning, and around the sun umbrella they had forgotten to close when their service had come to an eye, the night sky was filled with the glimmer of stars. They were faint, drowned out by the city light, but she could see them there. She watched as they sparkled, her eyes trying to planets from stars from satellites as the two of them passed the bottle back a forth. Sipping it from occasion before it was forgotten on the ground between them and conversation prevailed.

They spoke of their careers. They spoke of home, of family and friends. They talked about their hobbies, their similarities and their differences slowly becoming clear - and not once did her magnetic draw to him waiver. The more they talked, the more she knew, the more it grew. Claire wanted to be near him, to feel him, to know him for more than his mind and his soul but his body too. It was a craving, one that consumed her so fully it was almost debilitating as she pushed up from where she lay on the lounger.

Reaching down, Claire pushed her heels from her feet with a single hand before her feet met the cold concrete. She stepped around the open bottle of whiskey and took two tip-toeing steps to reach where Freddie sat no more than an arm’s reach away. And he must have been watching her, waiting for her, as she was greeted with the slow embrace of his hands around her waist as she climbed onto the seat with him.

His fingers wrinkled her dress, causing the flimsy fabric to rise around her thighs as he guided her up into his lap. Claire’s knees rested on each side of a single thigh, the soft fabric of his trousers brushing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh as she seated herself down. She near shuddered as she felt his muscle flex between her legs, the thick quadricep pressing up against the thin fabric of her panties and the apex between her thighs. There she sat, her full lips parted in a breathy part as she reached out to trace her fingers over the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Claire craved to lean in, to steal that breath of air between them but she hesitated as her bright eyes were heavy and gazed over every angle of his face right down to the swell of his lip as he took the lower lobe between his teeth in restraint.

“Freddie I,” she gasped out gently, “I don’t normally do anything like this…”

Claire wanted that to be clear. She wasn’t some temptress that made it her mission to sleep with her brother’s teammates nor was she someone who let a man steal more than a kiss on the first date. But with what she was feeling, she wanted to chase the highs of being in his company even if that meant breaking the unwritten rules of being the Captain’s baby sister.

His head shook slowly, a small smile creeping up onto his lips as one of his hands left her waist to reach up. Freddie’s warm palm met her cheek carefully, his thumb stroking over her lips and feeling her every nervous breath.

“You and me both,” he finally said as his thumb dropped to her chin, “this is the exact opposite of what I should be doing if I want to be staying on the roster, but-”

“But?”

“I just can’t shake this feeling,” Freddie hummed, pushing up from the recliner to straighten up just enough that the tips of their nose graze. He didn’t have to say any more than that. She knew exactly what he was speaking to because she was feeling it too. “I would very much like to kiss you, Claire.”

“If you kiss me I might not be able to stop,” Claire cautioned, her gaze shifting down to the golden cross that hung from her neck.

The Staal family was strong in their faith, and she had yet to truly give herself to any man. With all that she was feeling, her skin already ablaze with just the overwhelming thought of it all, Claire knew the risk that would come from just a single kiss from his lips. She needed him to know what this would mean to her if she left it spiral. She needed to know that he was willing to carry the heavy weight of being her first with him.

His perfect lips parted in a breath of a curse as his thick fingers dragged down the angles of her neck. Freddie’s touch was featherlight, but it left a burning path in its wake as he reached her collarbone and the dainty necklace that hung from her neck. Two fingers stroked over the chain before taking hold of the small cross that was no bigger than the pad of his thumb.

“Claire,” her name was almost a groan on his lips as he studied the cross with eyes that seemed to darken in the night, “you’ve never-”

She couldn’t answer, the embarrassment of it all in her throat. She had always thought she would have waited until marriage, but she had never wanted anyone more than she wanted him in that moment and she hadn’t even kissed him yet. Instead, all she could do was shake her head.

“Fuck,” he cursed again, but it sounded more like a hymn now, “You’re going to get me into so much trouble, you know that?”

His hand splayed out, holding her gently around her throat after dropping the cross to rest just above her cleaved. With that hold, he drew Claire in, his mouth meeting hers in the kiss she had been craving from him all evening. Any suffocating feeling that had lingered after being void of his touch at dinner had been eliminated the moment his lips met hers. Freddie’s kiss breathed life into her unlike any kiss had before, and Claire felt whole.

It had started out in a chaste drag of his lips over her own, firm and curious, but it ignited a spark that neither of them could ignore. It drew her in further, her lips parting to welcome the intensity of his kiss, and Claire was melting into him. The world around them was lost as Claire gripped his t-shirt in her fists, and with a single hand, Freddie was pulling her in so that she was flush against him. Freddie’s warmth radiated against her, consuming her as she let one leg fall over the edge of the lounger to ground himself. With one leg anchoring him, Claire could feel his hands travelling down over the subtle curves of her body. His palms stroked over the dip of her waist and down further still as he gripped at her hips. Fingers wrinkled her pale dress, inching its skirt up a little higher as he shifted her position on his thigh just right. And with the careful guidance of his hands, Freddie dragged her clothed cunt over the thick expanse of his thigh.

The friction left Claire gasping against his lips as she kissed him. Her hands released his shirt, dropping the now wrinkled fabric, before reaching to gasp at the strength of his shoulders. With that hold, Claire anchored herself to him, and let her hips roll in his steady guidance. She could feel each flex of his thigh, and each tug of her panties as they caught on the fabric of his trousers. It pushed the fabric back and forth, forcing the structured hem one way or the other leaving it to tease the most sensitive parts of her and expose her delicate skin to the pleasure of his thigh. Each desperate roll of her hips was almost enough to leave her reeling, her legs threatening to tremble as her arousal seeped into his trousers and undoubtedly could be felt against his skin.

“Freddie,” she mewled against his lips, his kiss dragging down across her jaw and coaxing a feeble moan before he pulled back just enough to look at her, “My room’s on the third floor.”

“Are you sure?” Freddie asked slowly, his large hand raising from her hip carefully and reaching out to stroke over her swollen lips.

“I’m sure they won’t want us doing it out here on the patio,” when she spoke, her lips dragged against his fingertips - the mere touch of him sent a smile to blossom over her lips.

“Yeah,” Freddie breathed out, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Standing up slowly, Claire ran her hands down over the skirt of her dress to smooth out each wrinkle before reaching down to collect the bottle. She cradled it in her hold and watched out of the corner of her eye as Freddie stood - towering - and awkwardly shifted his trouser with the hope to hide the stiffness of his cock as it tested the confined of his trousers. In the dark, it wasn’t all that noticeable, but in the light of the hotel room lobby, she was sure someone was bound to notice.

“Here, take this,” Claire thought quickly as she reached for the gift bag and placed the bottle inside before handing it to him. It wasn’t a big bag, but maybe it would be enough of a distraction.

Looking up from his half-untucked shirt and the leather belt buckle around his waist Freddie offered her a smile and a quick thanks before the two of them snuck off the patio and into the hotel lobby. It was so late in the night that not even the front desk clerk greeted them, making it a quick and easy walk to the elevator that would take them up.

Claire stood on one side of the elevator, her thighs pressed firm together as her panties were still askew, and Freddie stood across from her with the gift bag strategically held in front of him and his eyes locked on her. Leaning her head back to rest against the wall of the elevator, Claire watched him in return, her mind racing faster than she could register a single clear thought - and before she could even try to fathom one, the elevator chimed as they reached the third floor.

Quick strides carried her out into the hallway and only grew quicker as she left her own arousal dripping down the inside of her leg. Her strides stuttered as she came to the door, her fingers fumbling with the key card for a moment before she was pushing her way in through the door.

Freddie was quick to come in right behind her, the warmth of his body against her back as he dropped the gift bag - and the bottle of whiskey - to the floor with a hollow thud leaving his hands free to take to her body. Hands splayed over the curves of her waist, drawing her back into him so she could feel the stiffness of his cock against her back. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, her head almost feeling dizzy as she felt him lean in just enough to mutter against her ear.

“I’m only going to ask this one more time,” Freddie hummed, the rush of his words hot against the shell of her ear, “are you sure? Do you want me to be the first to fuck you, Claire?”

Claire could only nod, her lips slightly parted as she took a steady breath, her mind confused fully by how big he felt pressed up against him. Even while wearing her two-inch heels, Freddie towered a foot taller than her and was so big, so strong. He made her feel small, that at any moment he could pick her up and take her as he pleased and yet, he was taking his time with her. His touch was so cautious, so careful and tender. This wasn’t just going to be a quick fuck. She knew it, and with the way he was touching her - and the way they had been acting all night - he knew it too but neither of them could call it what it was.

“I need you to say it, Claire,” Freddie prompted her again, his long arm reaching down the length of her body to tug up the skirt of her dress. He drew it up by the hand full, revealing every inch of skin along her thigh and bearing her panties to him. She could feel the vibration of his hum against her back, his two thick fingers dragging over the white lace hem that rested inches below her belly button.

“Yes,” came the ghost of the word, “Yes, I’m sure.”

His two fingers dipped into the thin fabric, his fingertips dragging over her smooth flesh and did not stop until they came to rest over her clit. It seemed to sting with desperation, screaming for the pleasure that would come from the pleasure of his touch. Yet, all she could feel was the subtle accidental graze that came with the angling of her own hips.

“Freddie,” his name was a gentle whine on her lips, her head turning to glance back at him.

“Has a man ever touched you here?” he hummed into her hair as his finger pressed into her clit, a gentle pressure that almost left her teetering uneasily in her heels.

“No,” she gasped simply, her petite body leaning back against his as her eyes shut.

Freddie’s fingers stroked in slow, agonizing circles as he spoke again, “Have you ever touched yourself here, Flower?”

Her cheeks flushed red hot at the question, and her knees weak as the nickname was assigned to her by his tongue. Claire nodded slowly, her blonde hair becoming a mess between her head and his chest, and she held her breath as he dipped her fingers lower into the crotch of her panties. Blindly he fixed them just right, trapping his touch between the thin lace and the wet warmth of her cunt - then as his fingertips traced the slick entrance of her core, Claire took in a sharp inhale.

“What about here, Flower?” Freddie breathed into her hair, each word hot as it was spoken.

“No,” Claire’s lips quivered, “never.”

“You’ve been such a good girl,” he praised her gently, “waiting so patiently for me.” The cockiness in his tone left the corner of her lips curling as she leaned back into his strength. His free arm welcome her, wrapping so effortlessly around her waist to keep her firm to him as she gazed up at him through her thick lashes. “I’m going to take my time with you, Flower. Spoil you on your birthday, would you like that?”

Claire nodded.

“Good, girl,” Freddie hummed as he slipped his hands from her panties and let the skirt of her sundress fall back down her legs, “lay down on the bed. Leave everything on for me.”

She took careful strides as she moved for the bed, her legs left feeling weak from the mere absence of him and only found relief when she was crawling up into the comfort of the bed. Settling among the pillows, Claire bent one leg and she reached for the thin strap that fastened her heels around her ankle.

“Ah, Ah,” Freddie tutted, “leave everything on for me, Flower.”

Her fingers froze and eased back against the pillow as her eyes fell on him. Freddie still stood by the door, the glow of the hallway light streaming in and illuminating his silhouette in a halo of light. He had watched her crawl up to the bed without moving from his place, admiring her. It was only as she sat frozen by his words that he took casual, long strides, that carried him to the foot of the bed and tugged his t-shirt off his back and up over his head. Claire couldn’t stop herself from letting her eyes wander. Trailing up from the belt of his trousers where the waist of his boxers played peek-a-boo, and up and over the strength of his body. Her gaze didn’t stop until they had settled on his softened features, and how they were framed by what was now a mess of his hair.

Her bright eyes fixated on the contrast of his darker as Freddie settled himself at the foot of the bed. It shifted under his weight as he crawled up just a bit high so that he knelt just between her feet. All the while holding her gaze, Freddie took hold of her gently by one of her ankles. He guided it up carefully, placing it on the strength of his shoulder, before turning his head just enough to kiss the inside of her ankle. The action, so sweet and tender, left Claire melting back into the pillows - and her arousal only continued to puddle as he kissed his way up. Up along the length of her calf, his hand guiding her leg up and over to rest along the stench of her back leaving the heel of her pump to drag over his flesh. Up around the curve of her knee was his large hand began to push up the skirt of her daisy sundress. Up over the delicate flesh of her inner thigh where his every breath left her core aching in the anticipation of feeling him.

As he reached the apex of her thigh, she could feel Freddie hesitate, his hot breath flooding over the damp fabric of her panties. His every hot breath only primed her for the feeling of a single, thick finger dipping into her panties. Hooking it around the soaking fabric and drawing it down her legs so that she was rid of them fully and her glistening cunt was left bare for him.

Claire could hear Freddie as he let out a steady hum, his hands leaving her dress to pool around her waist to explore the flesh that was exposed to him. A single palm rested over her pelvis, his warmth radiating over her as his thumb reached down to stroke slowly over her clit. It unearthed a desperate whine from her lips, one that was choked back into silence as she felt his fingers glide down over her lower lips and stroked around the entrance of her core.

“Such a beautiful flower,” he spoke into the soft skin of her thigh, “so wet and ready to be fucked - but first, I’m going to make sure you can handle me. Get you nice and ready for me, so we’re going to start with just one finger, alright, Flower?”

“Yes, Freddie, please,” she pleaded with him, her hips wiggling with anticipation but his one hand kept her pinned firmly to the bed.

“Patience, Flower,” he reminded her gently with another kiss to her thigh, “you’ll have all of me before the night is over.” His words were a promise as he stroked over her slick entrance one last time before easing the tip of his middle finger inside of her.

Claire’s lips parted in a quiet gasp as she looked down over the curves of her own body to watch as Freddie worked between her legs. He watched looking up at her instead his eyes were focused on her cunt, at how well her core took his finger and left his skin glistening with her desire for him. The friction of his fingers alone was enough to send her head back to the pillows, her heart racing from every agonizing stroke.

“So good, Flower,” Freddie praised her, “I’m going to use a second finger now.”

The pressure of the second finger left her biting down on her lower lip as her core stretched out to accommodate him. It was a burning pleasure, her legs weak as one remained draped over his shoulder with her heel digging into the muscle of his back. The pleasure sent her hands to the sheets, her hands gripping at the fabric until her knuckles were white - then came his praise and it only sent her head spinning further into her pleasure.

“That’s it” he hummed, “you’re taking my fingers so well, Flower, and so pretty while you’re doing it too.” He kissed the inside of her thigh again, the pressure of the pleasure building like the raging storm inside her until he withdrew his fingers one final time and left her void before she would reach the peak of her pleasure. “Taking my fingers so well, I think you’re ready for my cock, Flower.”

Claire's chest was weak with nerves as she pushed up onto her elbows to watch as Freddie eased her leg from his shoulder and moved to stand at the foot of the bed. She watched as he kicked off his shoes - his fingers that were once inside her now in his mouth as he did so - before his hands dropped to his pants where his erection had tented in his pants. There was nothing discrete about it now, and there would have been no hiding it behind a gift bag if they needed to now. She watched as his hands worked his belt free, and pushed his trousers down until he was left in nothing but his boxers. But not even those stayed on as he hooked his thumbs around the waistband and pushed them down to join his pants on the floor. He stood there bare to her, her eyes left to wander.

From floor to ceiling and back down again, Claire’s lips were left agape at the sight of him. Freddie was big. From his height to his hands to his cock, there was nothing that failed to impress her about his size. Everything about him made her feel small, especially as he crawled back up the length of the bed until he was hovering over her with a single knee between her legs.

“Let’s get that dress off of you,” Freddie hummed as he hovered over her, his hand coming down to her shoulder to push one of the straps down over her shoulder carefully. The gentle touch has her sitting up just enough for her hands to work on her dress. She couldn’t get it off her body fast enough, the zipper just out of her reach and left to Freddie’s gentle touch before Claire could discard the fabric on the floor and was left in nothing but her heels as she lay out on the bed beneath him.

Her chest rose and fell in nervous breaths as she felt her eyes skirt over her body as it was now fully exposed to him. Claire held her breath at the touch of his hands as they explored the newly exposed skin, his hands caressing each exposed breast and his thumb teasing each pert nipple with a teasing smile. “Every inch of you is just so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his neck craning as to put a sweet kiss against her shoulder and when he pulled back his expression was soft as he gazed down at her, “Eyes on me, I want to see the look on your face as you take my cock.”

Biting her lip, Claire nodded desperately as Freddie pushed up onto his knees. He settled himself between her thighs, his careful touch spreading her legs just enough for him before they reached down for his cock. Her eyes were fixated on his face, and his slack-jawed expression as he dragged the tip of his cock over her slick cunt. His eyes almost shut at the feeling, his body shuddering with a heavy breath as the head of his cock kissed her entrance.

The pressure of the mere tip of his cock left Claire wincing. It was much thicker than the breadth of his two fingers, the girth of him stretching her core out with the mere first inch of him that tore through the final piece of her that marked her virginity. “Stay nice and relaxed for me, Flower,” Freddie breathed out, his one hand reaching out to stroke over the swell of her hip, “it’s going to feel tight, might even hurt just a little, but it’s going to feel so good. I promise you.”

Claire gave off a desperate nod, her breath hitching as she felt him ease in just a little more of him. She could feel the slick of her core on the inside of her thighs, his cock coaxing more from her with each careful plunge. Any discomfort that came from accommodating his cock soon dissolved into pleasure, leaving Claire arching her back to angle her hips, finding just where she liked having them angled and digging her heels into the mattress.

“That’s it,” Freddie cooed, his hand gliding down the back of her thigh to grasp her behind her knee. He lifted her leg up to rest against his hip, her calf coming to rest along the back of his thigh as he eased himself in so close to his limit. “So close to taking all of me,” he added as he leaned in, kissing his way over the angle of her jaw and to her lips that were so desperate to be kissed.

Her lips welcomed his with a breathy, open-mouthed kiss as her bright eyes fell shut - and while she couldn’t see him she could feel all of him. The sweet embrace of his lips as they swallowed each of her feeble moans. The flex of his arms as they drew her petite body flush to his. His legs and how they were tangled with her. And finally, his cock as it delved deep and deeper still inside her until she burned with a throbbing pleasure, unlike anything she had ever felt.

“Freddie,” Claire mumbled desperately against his lips, her arms reaching around his to grip his back.

“That’s it,” he cooed, drawing back just enough to rest his forehead against hers and to bring a hand up to stroke over her cheek, his own lips parting in a ghost of a moan, “you feel how good it feels to - ah - fuck,” his words were broken by his own groan the waves of her pleasure all so consuming that he could feel it too.

Together, they were a symphony of heavy breaths and lingering touches. Their kisses were messy and desperate, mixed with soft moans and low, guttural groans that were punctuated by one final trust that flooded her core and left her feeling full - as if the piece of her she didn’t know she was missing had finally found her.

The feeling left Claire panting as she lay out on the bed, her eyes training on Freddie’s features until he had drawn back to leave her nothing more than the darkened ceiling. She could have sworn she was seeing stars, or even colours, as she was consumed by the euphoria that Freddie had brought her two. Her gaze was almost tired as she felt him moving down the bed and to where his clothes rested on the floor. Head lulling to the side, Claire’s heart thundered in her chest, her stomach weak at the thoughts that were all too consuming now, was he leaving?

Biting her lip she was as he jumped into his boxer, her eyes burning with the threat of tears as any emotion now was almost too much, and then she said it, her words quick - almost fearful - as she sat up and clutch a nearby pillow to her chest, “please say.”

“Hey,” Freddie sighed, his tone instantly reassuring as he braced himself against the bed so that he was at eye level with her, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to go grab a warm cloth, and help you get cleaned up, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Claire nodded, her words a breath, “I’m sorry. Okay.”

Settling back into the bed, Clare’s hands came up to cover her face as the weight of it all hit her. She wasn’t a virgin anymore - that thought made her smile. She had lost her virginity to her brother’s teammate - that was what made her nervous. If Jordan or any of her brother’s found out, there was no telling how they would react - and her poor father would probably have a stroke if he learned she had done anything out of wedlock.

The thoughts left her stomach uneasy as Freddie returned to the bedroom with a warm, damp cloth. He ran it carefully over the inside of her legs, before dropping the rag to rest over her knees as she pulled her heel-clad feet into his lap to finally remove them. It was then she spoke, her throat weak from moaning, “Are you scared of my brother?”

Freddie shook his head, his smile returning to his lips, “no, are you?”

A chuckle rocked Claire’s shoulders as she reached her hand up to push her hair from her face, “I’m scared of what he will do to you if he ever finds out.”

“We don’t have to tell him at this happened,” he told her gently, his hand dropping one show to the floor, and then the other before he lay beside her.

Large hands tugged the blanket around them before he reached out to draw her in close to him. Even now that she had him, all of him, there was nothing like being touched by him. She craved it, thrived under it and now that she had it, she didn’t want to know what it was like to be without it. “But, I can’t pretend nothing happened tonight, Claire. I don’t know what’s happened tonight, but I don’t want it to stop. It’s like-” “Like you’ve found something you didn’t know you were missing?” Claire cut in, earning a gentle nod from him as he leaned in to place a firm kiss on her lips one last time before letting his eyes flutter shut.

Laying content in his arms, with sleep sure to take them both soon, Claire didn’t know what was to come of them come morning. But what she did know was that she would have to thank the team’s general manager, for she would have never met Freddie if it weren’t for him - and that was the best gift she could have asked for on her birthday.

#freddie andersen #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl rpf #hockey rpf #hockey smut #hockey imagines #nhl smut #birthday bingo fanfictions #frederik andersen #original character

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prolix-yuy · 6 months

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PedroStories HallowReads Celebration

A Spooky Salute to Writers!

There are literally hundreds of fics out here that have stolen my heart, but here are a few of my favorites. Forgive me if I wax poetic about some of these, but I think you'll love them just as much!

For other stories I've loved, check out my fic rec tag!

🎃 Here are my recommendations for @pedrostories’ HallowReads Celebration 🎃

My favourite fanfics I read this year

Point A to Point B by @amywritesthings Description: Escorting a former Empire prisoner of war to a Rebel Alliance safe zone? It should be a piece of cake. Absolutely no problems whatsoever. My thoughts: My space sister even when she's off in another galaxy far far away (aka another fandom), Point A to Point B was one of the first Din series I read that was in progress at the time I started. Nothing made me quite as excited as giving my blow-by-blow reactions to Amy's spectacular story, and I'll come back to a few of those...ahem...firsts time and time again. The writing style is crisp and gorgeously detailed, and I love her religious Din so very much.

Lie to Me by @iamskyereads Description: A recent transfer to the DEA from the FBI makes you a target of hazing from your co-workers. Choosing to forget your bad first day at a bar puts you on a path towards meeting a new acquaintance. An expert on deception and psychological profiling, you are adept at catching liars. What happens when an increasingly stressful work environment begins to test the limits of your personal life and the one man at the center of it all, Javier Peña? Afterall, everybody lies about something. But how many are you keeping from yourself? An AU of Season 3 of Narcos My thoughts: Skye writes some of my favorite "it's canon now" stories, and Lie to Me is a shining example of what her creative mind can do with Season 3 plus an incredible reader character. I have never read a story where the reader was so different than me but also someone I'd so badly like to be that I could really imagine it to be true. Plus her Javi is so thoroughly rendered in perfect introspection I half expect scenes from the show to have Carino in the background. A must read!

Surrender by @ezrasbirdie Description: Weeks after the events in Kansas City, Joel and Ellie stumble across a woman lost in the Nebraska wilderness. With her knack for foraging and unending patience for Ellie's ceaseless questions, Daisy quickly becomes an asset on their journey. But between Joel's capriciousness towards her presence and Ellie's fierce loyalty to her guardian, she can't help but question her place with her new companions--especially when she catches Joel's gaze lingering more and more when he thinks she isn't looking. My thoughts: Listen, I know there's a lot of Joel out there right now, but this Joel? You need to read this Joel. A glorious character study of an intensely broken man finding a new start through the eyes of a complex and powerfully realized OC. There are whole chapters that have me in a chokehold, and the pain is so stunningly offset by the beauty they find in each other. One of my favorite things Birdie has written (and there are lots to choose from!)

Celestial Navigation by @write-and-buried Description: Dumped and drowning in a summer storm, you duck inside a coffee shop to hide from your broken heart. Covered in plants and hand drawn images over exposed brick, it seems like a slice of heaven. The owner brings you a blueberry muffin and a promise; you’ll fall in love with him before the new year. My thoughts: How can I not mention the story I salivated over every week waiting for a new chapter? This Dieter has all of the hallmarks of canon Dieter with so much more depth and a unique twist to his character that works perfectly in this sort-of AU. Every description is lush and ripe, sensuality used to lull you into horny heaven. Gorgeously realized and a wonderful contained read again and again.

Intimidation Tactics by @whataperfectwasteoftime Description: You and your partner, Marcus Pike, are investigating a case that brings you far too close to something much more dangerous than your average art thief. My thoughts: Penny came out of the gate SWINGING with this series. Marcus and Dave's chemistry is electric, and the three of them together weave attraction and devotion into something much more grounded and confident than I expected. Their relationship blossoms so fully I can't imagine it any other way.

Wild Abandon by @starlightmornings Description: Post-WWII, set in the Great Smoky Mountains of Western North Carolina. Ezra Joe Collins came home from the war looking to hide away in the wilderness. His simple, quiet life is turned upside down when you show up in his garden, hungry and desperate, with nowhere else to go. What starts out as a grudging friendship quickly transforms into something that will knit your very souls together — but as you soon discover, such a bond comes at great cost. My thoughts: Kaylie's masterful execution of this thematic story kept me on the edge of my seat for weeks! The setting and voice is some of the most unique writing I've come across, and the threads she weaves together to make the full picture come to light had me gasping. Plus Ezra is the perfect balance of hedonistic and mysterious, just the way I like him.

Beloved fanfics with my comfort characters

First Class to Tatooine by @mandosmistress Description: You’re a flight attendant who’s so entranced by your melancholy, beskar-clad passenger that you decide to cheer him up with some first class treatment. And although the Mandalorian seems to think he can forget his woes between your legs if he tries hard enough, despair and violence seem to follow him no matter how hard he tries to shake them. My thoughts: Mari's fic was some of the first I read in the fandom and if I'm ever missing Din I come back to this story. Her young Din fics are transcendent, but I'm so in love with this post-TBOBF story and the angst she pulls out of it.

Kinktober 2022 by @chaoticgeminate Description: You’re a fanfiction writer turned novelist, which was great since it was the path you wanted your writing to take you down in life. What you never thought would happen was meeting the Javier Gutierrez, who you actively write smutty fanfiction about from his film with Nic Cage, and you especially didn’t expect him to have a crush on you. Fast forward several months of dating, with a good chunk of your relationship being distance due to his constant traveling and having to go home to Mallorca, when he surprises you with a prompt list and a vacation planned around exploring it. You haven’t even worked up the nerve to tell him about what you write and post to Tumblr about him as a character yet. My thoughts: Who doesn't want to live in a world where some happy accidents bring you together with Javi Gutierrez in a sexy funfest full of feelings, healthy relationship conversations, and mind-blowing smut? Plus Kelly made me almost cry several times featuring my beloved Murch in her stories and now our RCs are best friends forever.

Palomino by @fuckyeahdindjarin Description: Unable to get a refund for a week-long horse-riding pack trip you’d booked with your ex, you decide to go solo. As it turns out, a rebound with a cowboy named Jack while traversing the wild landscapes of Wyoming might just be what you need. My thoughts: Palomino is a triumph of a fic by the incredibly talented Cee that is a must-read if you like anything horsey. Even if you don't, come for the soft-spoken cowboy we were robbed of in TGC and their adventures together. Cee took so many unique turns that had me intrigued with my heart clenching at each new chapter, and the ending is truly something beautiful.

Fanfics I wish more people knew about

Calculated Risks by @pedrito-friskito Description: I took a calculated risk, but fuck, am I bad at math aka - this started as friends with benefits but you’re ridiculously good in bed and not as much of an asshole as originally thought and now I’m kind of in love with you? a saga. My thoughts: Kay's Dieter is a chaotic mess in the best way, and she pairs him with someone just as messy and perfect for him. They traverse some highs and lows together, but the love is so carefully threaded through you have to root for them.

Vibes by @mandoblowmybackout Description: Sex toys, Din Djarin, neurodivergent reader and so many feelings? What's not to love? My thoughts: The number of times I've closed my eyes and thought of scenes from this series is too large to count. As sexy as the concept sounds, the trust and care that Ash takes to give these two the love they deserve is even more exhilarating.

Kitten by @boliv-jenta Description: The reader meets Nico at a swingers party. Will he just scratch an itch or carve a place in her life? My thoughts: Liv has so many fics I adore, but the exploration of Nico as a character and how his and Kitten's experimentation grows is just masterful. Plus she gives us one of my favorite OC side characters and so many twists and turns I was gobbling up each addition the moment they came out!

Fanfics with my favourite trope/AU

Love Triangles by @littlemisspascal Description: Soulmates with Identifying Marks AU, including a ridiculous amount of pining, misunderstandings, and Dieter being Dieter. My thoughts: Rae's writing never fails to make me feel the widest spectrum of emotions. This AU is so fun and thoughtfully fleshed out, with a wild but kind Dieter, hilarious nicknames, and a soulmate twist that had me a gooey mess by the end.

Stranger At My Gate by @leslie-lyman Description: A time-traveling Pero. A modern woman trying her best. A kitchen full of possibility. A helping of Midwestern kindness. A dash of magic. And a whole lot of Christmas spirit. My thoughts: I read this around the holidays and it was the perfect treat for my time-travel-Pero-loving heart! The world Leslie creates is so warm and homey I want to live in it always. Plus big gruff Pero melting down for Tessa makes me want to cry, it's so wonderful.

A Galaxy Far Far Away by @grogusmum Description: This fic is as much a story about Din, Grogu, and Reader as it is a little love letter to an old home of mine, during an idyllic time in my life. As with most authors, there are characters who are a reflection of them, and that is certainly so for reader characters in fics. And it is so here, but only a little, but the cottage, the town, the festivities are directly from life. I hope they come across kind of like characters in their own right. My thoughts: Every time I get a new piece of this story it melts me again. The love in this is quiet and gentle, and Grogu is a sweet little menace we adore. The slow growth of love is truly the star, and I'll forever want to live in this town with a big teddy bear of a man and his mischievous son.

The Language of Flowers by @lowlights Description: You’re the only daughter of a wealthy Victorian family living in the countryside. The head gardener, Din, catches your eye and your heart. A series of clandestine rendezvous put both of your futures in jeopardy. One question persists: could you ever truly be together? (A Din Djarin AU) My thoughts: Gardener!Din owns my heart, my nethers, a large piece of my brain. The Victorian vibes are off the CHARTS, and while there's the looming doom of their secret relationship always present, I still fall back in love every time.

Fanfics I NEED to read

A Girl Walks Into a Bookshop by @oonajaeadira Description: Set a couple of years after the events of the film. Ezra owns a bookshop. You walk in. My thoughts: This has been on my TBR forever and I feel like I need to set aside a day to just binge it. I know it'll make me soft. I know it'll give me all the feels. I just need to prepare myself for it, preferably with a warm drink and a cozy corner to melt in.

Meant to Be by @radiowallet Description: Oberyn Martell has spent his life as a second-born prince enjoying all the pleasures that Dorne has to offer, staving off any notion of an arranged marriage under the guise of searching for his soulmate. But after defeating The Mountain and avenging his sister's untimely death, Oberyn returns home to his brother still without a true heir. And so Doran states his plan: To name Oberyn Lord of Sunspear and have him take a wife, soulmates and lovers be damned. So what happens when the fates of Westeros send him an independent and troublesome woman from the north that just happens to fit the title of both bride and soulmate? Which feelings does one bow to? To bend or to break? And what does it truly mean to be meant? My thoughts: Cat's unique take on a Soulmate AU with an unlikely Pedro boy has been tantalizing me for months! And to hear her say that it's one of the formative stories that's developed her unique voice just makes me want to read it more!

Clean Sheet by @haylzcyon Description: Former FBI agent turned tortured crime-author Marcus Pike has never gotten the hang of complacency. The weight of monotonous days stuck writing a loveless character into predictable plotlines is heavy - but he finds ways to shoulder it. Newly divorced and the owner of a print shop where Marcus orders copies of his working drafts, a slip-up in order packaging sparks a fast blooming friendship between you, and reveals a side to Marcus that you've only dreamt of. My thoughts: AUTHOR MARCUS AUTHOR MARCUS I know this is going to get me yearning and I cannot wait for him to meet-cute his way into my heart.

Like a Moth to the Flame by @the-scandalorian Description: monster!Din, sort of a dark Beauty and the Beast AU My thoughts: Oh god. Oh godddddd. Monster!Din. I can't. I need a minute. I'm gonna be such a problem after this story and I need to be ready for that. I'm looking so disrespectfully at this story Simone.

Thank you to each and every writer who's on this list (plus dozens more) and whose words are forever imprinted in my brain, for better or worse. Happy Spooky Season!

#pedrostorieshallowreads23 #prolix fic recs

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reidsaurora · 9 months

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You are invited to:

reidsaurora's twentieth birthday bash! ☆

The Orders:

🧁 Leo Baby Birthday Cake - send me a character + a prompt from this list and i'll write you a blurb!

🧁 Confetti Cupcakes - send me a character + concept/trope/au and i'll write you a blurb!

🧁 Birthday Batch Cookies - send me a character + concept/trope/au and i'll write you some headcanons!

🧁 Birthday Breakfast - send me a character + concept/trope/au and i'll make you a moodboard!

🧁 Ice Cream Sundae - send me a 💞 and i'll write you a handwritten note! (mutuals only)

🧁 Rainbow Sherbet - send me a 🎶 and a genre and i'll make you a playlist! (mutuals only)

🧁 Sparkling Strawberry Lemonade - send me a thing and i'll cast my mutuals as it!

🧁 Party Punch - send me ask games! fmk, would you rather, etc!

🧁 Cake Batter Martini - send me a character + kink and i'll write a you nsfw blurb!

The Rules:

🧁 This event will run through leo season! - as a leo my baby myself, i love taking the opportunity to celebrate my fellow leos because i don't think we get the love we deserve! that being said, this event will run through leo season, meaning it will start July 23rd and end August 22nd! (give or take, depending on how many requests i get and how long it takes me to write them)

🧁 Send asks to designated blogs! - please check my pinned post for request rules! this account is exclusive to criminal minds and daisy jones & the six requests, but this doesn't mean i'm not taking requests for this event over on my stranger things blog, @honeysuckleharringtons!

🧁 NSFW asks are designated to my NSFW blog! - while there is an option in this event for nsfw blurbs, that does not mean to send them to this blog!!! any and all nsfw asks should be sent to my nsfw blog, @hornyhornyhimbos!

🧁 Please be respectful to the blogger and to others! - use your noggin when requesting things. if it sounds offensive, it probably is, so just keep it to yourself. treat people with kindness!!!

🧁 Please be understanding when putting in requests! - writing blurbs and headcanons and such can be time-consuming so please be gracious when leaving requests! i will try to answer everyone's asks in as timely of a manner as possible!

🧁 tagging some mutuals to spread the word if they'd like! -> @dungeons-are-too-cold @reidsbookclub @reidselle @broken-stardust @nomajdetective @writer-in-theory @lcvingprentjss @serenity-lattes @writingquillsandpainpills @sadgirlml @rupsmorge @lukeclvez @foxy-eva @bejeweledmunson @gay-prentiss @orchidmunson @letarasstuff @milla984 @coldbrewreid @stevesmunsons

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bi-bard · 11 months

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Stick Season [We'll All Be Here Forever] Writing Challenge Masterlist

Here's the stories written for the deluxe tracks that were released on Noah Kahan's "Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever)".

If you want to see the writing challenge for the original album, then you can click here

I hope you all enjoy these stories because I've had fun making them.

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Your Needs, My Needs

You'll Always Be a Flower on my Skin and the Pain that I Am In Daisy Jones X Reader [Daisy Jones & the Six] Summary: (Y/n) and Daisy are two broken people that had learned to rely on each other. However, at what point does support become reliance? When does helping become enabling? What do you do when the person that probably saved you becomes the very reason that you haven't been able to save yourself?

Dial Drunk

I Dial Drunk, I'll Die a Drunk, I'd Die for You Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto X Reader [The Bear] Summary: A night of drunken grief lands Carmy in more trouble than he thought it would. He calls the one person that he remembers being able to rely on. His night of calls brings up old memories of the person that seems to be hellbent on ignoring him.

Paul Revere

If I Could Leave, I Would've Already Left Luca X Reader [The Bear] Summary: When Luca left for Copenhagen, he didn't mean to leave (Y/n) completely on their own. After years of not talking, he finally finds that nerve to reconnect with them, deciding to invite them out to visit. At first, all seems well, but something is clearly off... Luca just has to get (Y/n) to admit that.

No Complaints

I Saw the End, it Looks Just Like the Middle Tommy Shelby X Reader [Peaky Blinders] Summary: A face from Tommy's past comes home. When he tries to reconnect, he's quickly dismissed. If only his stubbornness would vanish long enough for him to accept it.

Call Your Mom

Throw a Punch, Fall in Love, Give Yourself a Reason Aziraphale & Crowley X Platonic!Reader [Good Omens] Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are left on a hunt for something... well, someone quite important. When they find who they were looking for, they are confronted with questions that they have no answer to.

You're Gonna Go Far

We Ain't Angry at You, Love, You're the Greatest Thing We've Lost Morpheus X Dream!Reader [The Sandman] Summary: After the events with the Corinthian and the Dream Vortex, many thought that Morpheus may have run out of any remaining kindness and leniency. However, they were gravely mistaken. It simply took a well-intentioned dream to prove it.

The View Between Villages - Extended [PART ONE HERE]

I'm Back Between Villages, and Everything's Still Tenth Doctor X Reader [Doctor Who] Summary: A further look into the trip that the Doctor and (Y/n) took to (Y/n)'s hometown. The one place that (Y/n) never wanted to walk into again.

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Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

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trickphotography2 · 1 month

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Alright! The next chapter of 'tis the damn season is finished, clocking in around 8K words (unedited). Unfortunately, I finished just in time to have to get ready for a work morale events I'm throwing - yay Dave & Busters!

The plan is to run through the edits tonight and post either tonight or tomorrow evening, depending on how late I finish.

In the mean time, these are the songs I was listening to while writing:

Soon You’ll Get Better by Taylor Swift

Grow as We Go by Ben Platt

Hopelessly Devoted To You (cover) by Daisy Clark

Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing (cover) by Blame Jones

Sun to Me by Zach Bryan

There were a lot of Anyone But You gifs that helped write this chapter, but this one did a lot of heavy lifting...

#'tis the damn season fic

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invested-in-your-future · 1 year

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Just because I got few similar asks asking about that

The issue with "Fixing" a writing of a show is that you are naturally assuming you are only fixing specific "season" and that there will be a point in the show when the writing "goes back" to being coherent and proper.

So for example, if you are trying to fix Volume 4 as Volume 5 is airing, you might, consciously or subconsciously, hope that V5 ending is where everything once again "clicks" and thus you just need to alter what doesn't work in V4 and what doesn't in V5.

So you think up of which parts should be changed. And sure that might mean entirety of Menagerie location needs to go (because real world implications of that whole arc are just...NO and you can probably think up a better WF storyline in half a hour with how bad that was) and Port needs to disappear off the face of this fictional story and pointless empty scenes of Ruby and Co walking through exact same forest textures need to be changed, but the structure might still work right? They are still traveling towards a specific goal right? So you just have to change HOW they get to that goal, because there is a goal right??? And then You just need to tweak the elements that don't work in V5 up to the ending where you hope things might get shaken up a bit more and go back on track.

But then V5 ends and the writing's still a mess. And before you manage to quite think through what to do, V6 starts and the writing is STILL a mess and what's more, it has a whole new set of problems and by this point you realize that for example, the entire structure of Kingdom of Mistral doesn't quite make sense, as if "someone" just plopped bunch of town locations in a straight line and then used Google's translation feature to just make up bunch of names for them, because entire continent is ultimately just an irrelevant detour.

Whoops, now you have to review what you did with fixing earlier parts and see if new problems arose, change up the geography of the story a bit, etc. You just realized that there's not really "a point" to the adventure of traveling through Mistral anymore so you need to think something up as you realize that the main character of the entire story has absolutely zero character growth from V3. The show is back to status quo yet again and its like V4 through V5 are completely pointless.

You realize, that Ruby Rose, the character that went through some of the most lifechanging events ever, just spent two seasons just ambiguously walking through bunch of forest areas and towns.

What's more, the team is back together but literally nothing that happened has been addressed in anyway and there's no actual growth of the characters at all. That can't be right. Right? Surely at least Yang and Blake w-... Oh no...

Resigned, you go back to your thoughts about what would need to change in V4 and a lot has to change once again to make Mistral anything but one huge pointless detour.

But its okay you th-...wait what's that sound? Its as if, somewhere just outside, a train just went off the rails as it was crossing a bridge and then somehow managed to jump over a shark and then exploded as it hit the ground...Whoopsie daisy.

In this exact moment, the writing throws you the infamous "Salem Flashback Episode", "The Lost Fable", and accidentally entire lore is now broken completely and it might be one of the worst written things in the entire show till that point, that kind of trivializes multiple mysteries people were waiting for and makes the writing for lead villain extremely tropey and honestly (yet again, as you start to notice a pattern in how the show writes women) misogynistic and if you want to make things work you might as well redo that too. Wait..."that" as in what??? As in the entire core of why the show is happening in the first place? THAT's broken? Well F-...

So now you barely started sorting out the mess of V5 (because its entire volume of basically literally nothing happening and whatever interesting happens always gets off-screened) and the show-proper just basically NUKED almost all of it's set-up and more than half of it's mysteries.

You realize you are staring at an episode that honestly can compete with worst seasons of Voltron in how bad it is. You actually start to think it might compete with the second genLOCK season in awfulness, but end up not thinking it can be THAT bad. I mean the show will never go bad as genLOCK S2, riiight?

Its okay, its okay - you have been theorycrafting RWBY stuff since the first trailers hit. You've read all the song lyrics which are filled with all these immaculate hints at the intent behind the show, thoughts of various characters and where things are going, you can maybe piece together something other than another "disgruntled manipulative woman" storyline. The songs having actual lore is great. I mean they wouldn't just suddenly throw that away, right? As that thought hits you, a sense of dread starts to overcome you.

And thus as another disaster closes in. at this point, little does your past self know that in the future, few years latter, the show will deliver a whole season of nothing but train crashes, but this time the sharks being jumped will talk like humans do.

So yeah... you can't really "Fix RWBY". Sure parts like Ren and Nora's backstory episode are nice and there are moments that felt good otherwise, but at that point, pretty much majority of post-V3 stuff is outright unusable. At this point to Fix RWBY means to redo literal core reasons on why the story is happening, how the world and it's lore works, motivations of the characters and, well, everything...

And that's how you end up with a file over hundred pages long that quietly has chronicled both your efforts to make sense of what the show even wants to be, as well as the show's descent into just complete randomness...

After all, when a writing team writes EVERY volume as one huge pointless detour that in no way actually enhances the characterization or story, at some point the whole train is bound to derail and crash...over and over again.

#RWBY #RWDE #rwby stuff mine #Ruby Rose #whoops I just kind of ended up writing a critique of ENTIRE RWBY SHOW while writing that

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dandyleyen · 16 days

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TMA RELISTEN — MAG 142

Spoilers, duh !

—

This one was a rough listen, y'all. On one hand, it was so interesting. It makes a lot of sense that this is where Jon is going with his whole,,, everything. We've seen him slipping a bit more into actively using his powers as of late, and we got to see that again in the last ep. At first, he wasn't aware he had powers at all, and then down the line when he becomes more aware of certain entities/fears existing, he was often not aware that he was even using his in the first place. Then we see a shift where he is aware of these powers and actively trying not to use them very much while knowing he still has to feed his, which is a rough time for him (the whole podcast is a rough time for him lmao rip buddy), and now we've seen another shift. He is actively trying to use his powers and his moral compass might be shifting a little bit ? He still is very much the Jon we know— in the sense that he is still feeling a lot of guilt (survivor's and otherwise) over past events and that he's trying to find control in his life while doing his best to help. But we also see that he's getting more... at ease, I suppose, with feeding into his being an avatar of the eye.

On the other hand, this episode was also genuinely hard to listen to. You can really hear the character's distress and how pained she sounds by having to relive her trauma and then feeling like she can't escape it or Jon. She has no clue who he is, just that he's some freak of a guy who kinda took her autonomy away for a moment there and forced her to tell her story that she did not want to tell. It's rough. Also it really highlights the more creepy aspects about The Eye.

I've also seen the theories about her either lying or it maybe not being Jon (he wasn't at all mentioned by name), but I think the lying would be a,,, particularly bad choice on the end of the people writing the show for obvious reasons. Slippery slope thing. On it possibly not being Jon,,, idk actually. He wasn't mentioned but I think it would be a nice addition if it was him because it makes sense within the current narrative since we do see him struggling with his humanity. But hey, who knows. Could be some other supernatural bs. Haven't mentioned the ending much but Martin,,, I love and adore you but you are incredibly frustrating this season. I understand why, but lord. Still love him, I just don't like this plotline for him too much but it does make sense in the narrative so I'm locked in. Also shoutout to Daisy for being the only one here with critical thinking skills !

#and we're back #my bad y'all lmao im busy reading homestuck rn and watching dunmeshi #and im in april of my spring term so its finals time #also dont get me wrong i hate this plotline for martin but i do love him #i just cannot fucking stand peter lukas #also yippee jon being spooky #i have a big fear w/ being watched but im also endlessly seeking knowledge and info so The Eye always stands out to me #the magnus archives #TMA relisten #MAG 142 #TMA #jonathan sims #Jon TMA #Martin TMA #Daisy TMA #tma spoilers

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onyourowndaisymae · 6 months

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Trick or treat!!

Hello my friend can I please have an Obey Me trick?? Thank you and I hope you're having a lovely day/evening! <3

your gif's given me a wonderful idea cc...

"aww, can we keep it?"

"absolutely not. and don't let satan know you have that-- i'll never hear the end of it."

your lips curl into a pout that makes lucifer's eyes flicker up from his paperwork. he sighs and pulls his reading glasses off, setting them on the desk to get a good look at you.

"i've been over this a million times with satan. none of us are home enough to care for another pet. there's so many places for it to get stuck, or sneak out through open doors... there are a million better homes for something like that than the house of lamentation."

the pout doesn't leave your lips as you pull the small black kitten closer to your chest, leaning back until you lay flat on the sofa in lucifer's office.

"you have cerberus."

"he was a gift."

damn. the kitten flops over onto your sternum and purrs, making your smile in delight and run a finger across its little tummy. you don't even flinch when it's easily riled and it lunges to sink its claws into your skin-- all worth it for the sweet, sweet victory of fluffy kitty belly.

lucifer doesn't quite resume his paperwork-- not when his gaze is glued to the way you curl with the kitten so carefully, exceedingly cautious as you run your fingers across your torso to coax it into a game of chase. your eyes glimmer in the warmth casted across the room by the low flames of the fireplace.

you look best when you're relaxed, he thinks. when there's not a care in the world on your mind, body slumped across his furniture like you belong here. when did you become so comfortable invading his personal space? when did he get so comfortable letting you?

not even a year into the exchange program and he's already grown soft. all over some human.

the kitten snuggles against your neck, purring against your skin and making you chuckle under the miniscule weight of its tiny body on your windpipe. maybe lucifer can put off rehoming that fuzzy creature until tomorrow.

#soft lucifer makes me smile but ESPECIALLY when he's trying to be serious and stern early on :')#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me x reader #obey me imagines #obey me drabbles #daisy's trick or treat event 2023 #daisy's halloween event 2023 #daisy's seasonal writing events

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fbfh · 1 year

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rocks at your window pt. 9 - ricky bowen x reader

disclaimer: this series contains smut and chapter by chapter warnings, so as with all nsfw works, ricky is aged up to 18+!! ricky and reader are 18 and in their senior year

additionally, we're working towards a ricky x therapy plot so he's going to start expressing some symptoms of mental illness and bpd but he does get therapy eventually and has a good support system but he gets worse before he gets better yk. Obviously I'm not a professional and this is for entertainment so while I have done my research pls take this with a grain of salt!! or several!! /lh

!! contains some spoilers for season 1 of hsmtmts, and previous chapters of this fic !!

wc: 9.6k

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, not really fluff but a lot of high highs and a lot of low lows

pairing: ricky bowen x (afab she/her) reader

warnings: miss jenn is a legend icon queen slay goddess (cited two times), iconic interactions between the cast, jealous ricky being a cutie, ricky and EJ are not bros yet, nini has gone from messy to borderline evil, your mom is a legend, kourtney anxiety foreshadowing, opening night/theatre vibes so strong it made me tear up a little /hj, lynne bowen is a horrible horrible toxic person!!!, todd jumpscare, ricky has a mental breakdown, EJ is trying his best but horribly misreads the situation, ricky is in a crisis, ricky bpd episode, art to cope :'), ricky has a good support system, reader is good in a crisis, nini is REALLY testing your patience, gina gets a well deserved moment to shine, terrible theatre etiquette, ricky gets emotionally ambushed, mike is a good dad, nini gets yelled at by reader (slay), reader yells at lynne (slay), reader gets slapped (in a dramatic way not a violent or sexy way), reader gets called a slut as an insult, ricky defends you, messy necessary screaming match (slay), things are said that cannot be unsaid :/

summary: opening night is just as magical and incredible as ricky hoped it would be, just as wonderful as you made it sound - until the worst case scenario comes to fruition. but the show must go on, right?

song recs: something about this night - finding neverland obc, twenty million people - my favorite year obc, opening up - waitress obc, twinkle in her eye - leann rimes, window seat - amelie obc, this is how I disappear (instrumental) - my chemical romance, un organo suona - ennio morricone, the music and the mirror - a chorus line obc, holding onto you - twenty one pilots, you oughta know - jagged little pill obc

other media: "art is not a luxury, it's sustinance" - ethan hawke ted talk clip, "and the way he sings sends a chill right through me" - lullaby for the taken lyric by kimya dawson, "what a mother does for you out of obligation vs what a mother does for you because she wants to" - text post/poem by tumblr user vympr,

a/n: fangz to cici for reading!!! I felt like my immortal chapter 6 "paragraph" 4 while writing the last part trying not to under or overuse dialog tags lmao. remember when I said it's gonna get messy? it gets worse :)

tags @yesv01 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland @pikzel @demirunner @brinaslittlefreak @girlfriendwhoseawitch @matiere-detoiles @ifilwtmfc @uselesssapphickitten @nxstalgicnxbxdy @ggclarissa @n-slayaaaaa @stormi-ames @rainforest-daisies @sunshineangel-reads

You and Ricky had been planning to get to the El Rey early on opening night since tech week, to make sure you have plenty of extra time to get ready, warm up, and get in character. Plus, you’ve been telling him how much you’ve missed just being in theaters, and near stages. The more time you’re there, the better. When you’re on the way over Ricky couldn’t shake the excitement gripping him. You can’t seem shake the feeling something was going to go wrong.

It was different from nerves, different from anxiety or worries that everyone can get before a big event. It was the same small, nudging feeling you got the night the basement flooded during your run in Matilda. It’s not as bad as it had been that time, but you take in a breath, steadying yourself and knowing you should be ready for anything. When you do, the feeling is quickly overshadowed by your excitement. You haven’t acted in far too long, and you’re ecstatic that you’ll get to perform again soon.

Once you get to the theater, you and Ricky are the first to sign the sign in sheet. You draw a little smiley face next to his name, and when he glances back at you, eyes falling on the paper. He smiles, struck by sudden joy at the little face. He leans back over and grabs a pen, drawing a smiley next to your name on the line below. Miss Jenn glances down when he returns the pen.

“Oh!” she exclaims, seeing the little faces, “How cute. I love this energy we’re creating.” she gestures vaguely before shooing you off to your respective dressing rooms to get ready.

Soon everyone’s there, and you’re once again wrapped up in the familiar hustle and bustle of show nights. You and your castmates are simultaneously getting in costume, warming up, and trying to get ready while helping each other’s hair and makeup. Ashlyn and Nini join you in an impromptu karaoke session, singing your hearts out to Bop to the Top while Nina riffs and harmonizes. The boys, one or two rooms away, start singing Getcha Head in the Game at the same time. In spite of the chaotic cacophony of voices, it's both a good way to warm up, and a good outlet for the nervous energy growing, bouncing from one person to the next, turning electric.

Kourney enters suddenly, grabbing some bobby pins.

"Do you know if you have any safety pins?" She asks.

"Uh," you pause doing your hair, tying it up into a bouncy low half updo, and fumble through your bag, "how many do you need?"

"Two or three?" She says hopefully. No matter how many you buy, bobby pins and safety pins always seem to be in short supply at every theater you've been to. You dig around for a minute before finding them, handing them to Kourtney.

"Thank you!" She declares, "Seb's shirt just completely-"

"Has anyone seen my glasses?" Ashlyn asks, and Kourtney pauses, noticing she's not wearing them.

"Shit," Kourtney mutters, both of you looking around for them.

"Knock knock!" Comes Seb’s voice from behind the door.

"Decent!" You and Ashlyn reply in unison. Seb enters, holding the side of his shirt together with his hands.

"Any luck?" He asks Kourtney.

"Right here," she replies, holding up the safety pins. "Turn around." Nina puts in her headphones and starts doing some vocal exercises and scales to warm up a little more. Seb lifts up his jacket so Kourtney can pin the ripped seam back together.

"Oh," she remembers, "have you seen Ashlyn’s glasses?"

"The really big ones?" He asks.

"Yeah."

"Nope." He shrugs. She turns to Ashlyn.

"We'll find them." Kourtney reassures her. Seb heads back to his dressing room he shares with Ricky and EJ, and you move on to the last few steps of your makeup routine.

"Where are they?" Ashlyn huffs rhetorically. Natalie pokes her head in a moment later.

"40 minutes till show time!"

"Thank you 40!" The three of you reply together. A little while later, you’re finally dressed and waiting for the glue on your eyelashes to get tacky, when you hear EJ call your name. You stumble out of your dressing room, zipping up your boot, and you’re greeted with EJ in his Chad costume, clearly in a huff.

“Can you help me with my eyeliner?” he asks, a slightly petulant tone to his voice, handing you a black pencil. You laugh.

“Yeah, hold on.” you go back into your dressing room, passing by Seb telling Kourtney something. You dig through your makeup bag as Seb reenters, Darbus glasses in hand, presenting them to Ashlyn.

"Where were they?" She exclaims.

"The prop table!" He says.

"Why?" Ash asks, stating your thoughts exactly.

"Natalie says they're technically a prop because in the detention scene when you…" you find what you're looking for, missing the tail end of his sentence as you leave a moment later with a stiff angled brush in hand. You grab EJ and lead him to the stairs where he can sit down. He does so, and you rub the bristles against the eyeliner, demonstrating for him.

“This will make the application a lot more precise. Close your eyes…” you instruct, tilting his head back. You smudge the outside of his lash lines, careful not to make it look like too much.

“Okay, now this is the scary part…” you trail off, gently lifting up his eyelid. “I swear I’m not going to stab you, just look down and don’t blink.” you instruct at the worried look on his face. You tight line the middle of his lash line for a defined, natural effect, then repeat the step on the other side.

“Okay,” you say, pulling away to check that it looks even, unaware of Ricky standing a few feet away, watching you hold EJ’s face. You look so focused, and a twinge of jealousy flashes through his stomach, wishing you were holding his face, looking focused at him like that.

“You should be good,” you say, and Ricky approaches, dragging you away as EJ thanks you.

“I just need to borrow her for a second.” he cuts EJ off, smiling tensely at him - one he returns. Ricky takes you a few feet away while EJ goes back into their dressing room.

“What’s up?” you ask. He lets out a breathy laugh.

“I just… I can’t figure out this whole bronzer thing.” You bite back a smile. You know that it’s bullshit, specifically because you went through his whole stage makeup routine with him twice last night. He could do his makeup and anyone else’s with one hand tied behind his back, so he obviously just wants your attention. You can’t deny that it’s really cute - and it’s working. He’s probably nervous, you figure. You chuckle, taking the brush from him.

“Make a fish face,” you instruct, sucking in your cheeks and puckering your lips. His face mirrors yours, and you blend the product into his foundation. Your hand rests on his jaw, angling it this way and that until you’re satisfied with your work. He glances briefly back at the stairs, where EJ has long since left. Ricky’s about to look for any other excuse to keep you here for a few more minutes, your eyes light up, remembering something.

“Oh!” you exclaim, turning around, “Stay right here.” You’re back a moment later after digging through your bag past bobby pins, safety pins, your water bottle, script, sewing kit, extra makeup, makeup wipes, bandaids, and throat lozenges. You grab a small box, holding it triumphantly before running back out to Ricky in the hall. You stand in front of him, that glimmer in your eye.

“I have a surprise.” Excitement swirls in his chest.

“What is it?” he asks, trying to suppress the anticipatory giggle bubbling up, his energy matching yours. You hand him the small box, and he looks at it, confused. He opens it slowly, pulling out a little charm. It’s a dog tag with the number 14, and a metallic T on a jump ring.

“Oh my god…” he breathes, looking at it closer. You’re beaming, so glad that he likes it.

“You know,” you say softly, “something to remember your first show by. And your heart ring was looking kind of lonely.” You smile, pointing to the plastic ring he still wears around his neck, waiting until the last possible minute to take it off. You barely get the words out before he grabs your arms, pulling you close and kissing you. His lips are warm as they move against yours, and for a split second, you forget where you are, completely losing context for everything around you.

“I love-” he murmurs against your mouth, freezing for an instant. Your hearts skip a beat in tandem, then he cuts himself off to kiss you again. “I love it.” he finishes. You smile against his lips, pulling away very reluctantly. He leans back in, pressing a few more kisses to your lips before you wiggle out of his grasp.

“Ricky!” you laugh, “We’re gonna mess up our makeup. We can kiss after the show.” He runs his fingers up and down your arms, gazing at you as you talk. You have all his attention.

“Okay,” he says in that light hearted, joking tone of his that always makes you laugh, “but I’m gonna hold you to that.” You laugh again, and he takes off his necklace so you can slip on the new charm. After getting it fixed on the chain, you reattach it to his neck.

At the end of the hall where you’re standing, Nina lingers, watching Ricky touch you and kiss you like that. It makes her sick, and she finds herself holding back a gag. Her hours of research had turned into days, and she has your playbill.com page open on her phone at this very moment. She’s torn, reminiscing over how much she loved your performances and how obsessed with you she was as a kid, and simultaneously fuming over it. You’ve done all this professional work, you’ve acted on Broadway, and now you’re here at East High?

She scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. She wanted so badly to be you, to have your perfect life, and you threw it all away for what? To come do crappy high school theatre in a town that couldn’t be further from New York? She fights a laugh suddenly, realizing just how much dirt she has on you. There must be a reason you’ve been keeping this secret, lying to everyone, lying to Ricky. She shakes her head. She doesn’t know why yet, but she’s going to find out.

35 minutes before curtain, Miss Jenn gathers everyone for circle time, and a cast meeting to boost morale before the show. Everyone is finally in costume and Kourtney follows Seb, makeup pallet in hand, adjusting the finishing touches to the glitter on his cheeks. You can feel the energy stirring and growing, electric between all of you.

“Most of you know that our dazzling Taylor had to leave under family circumstances. Gina sends her love and support, but has left for the east coast and will not be able to make it to tonight’s performance.” Miss Jenn says. You and Ricky share a look, trying not to be too obvious. You got Gina a plane ticket together, and your mom is at the airport right now to pick her up. The last you heard from her, Gina’s flight was delayed. Now there’s only a slim chance she’ll get here in time. You silently keep your fingers crossed, praying to whatever theatre gods are out there that she’ll make it to the theater before it's too late.

“And so,” Miss Jenn continues, “I have asked… Kourtney to fill in, in her place!”

The room erupts into cheers. Kourtney smiles, eyes on the floor bashfully. She’s praying she doesn’t seem as nervous as she feels. It’s not that she didn’t expect you guys to be supportive of her subbing in as Taylor, but seeing first hand how excited everyone is for her eases some of the worries that have been building up.

“Now,” Miss Jenn continues, “everyone join hands.” After some heartfelt words of encouragement and other usual circle time warm ups, she claps her hands.

“Let’s go, wildcats! 20 minutes to curtain!”

Once again, the room erupts into cheers.

“Now, if I can get my main characters and my ensemble members starting the show with a mic on stage for mic check?” she directs, pointing towards the way to the wings. You walk with everyone else towards the stage, pausing when you pass Miss Jenn.

“Do you want me to help Kourtney get ready?” you ask. Her hair and makeup are done, she just has to get in costume, but you can sense that she needs a pep talk.

“That would be fantastic,” she says with a look that indicates she thinks Kourtney could use a pep talk too, “thank you, Sharpay.” She pulls out her walkie to let Big Red know you and Kourtney are going to be released from mic check early to finish getting ready. After singing We’re All In This Together while Big Red adjusts your volume from the sound booth, Kourtney sings Bop to the Top, voice getting louder and quieter as Red tweaks the settings. Once you’ve both gotten the thumbs up, you scurry backstage to your dressing room, handing her costume pieces while she gets changed.

“Oh, wait,” you say before she pulls on her top. You grab your setting spray you use for shows from your bag. “Close your eyes.” You mist her face with the product, fanning it dry so it doesn’t smudge.

“Thanks,” she says. You take one look at her expression, and can tell she’s nervous.

“You okay?” You ask. She hesitates, then sighs.

“I had two weeks to learn all my lines. I had two weeks to learn all the lines and the songs, I haven’t even gotten to rehearse on stage with you guys, and I’m just so worried I’m going to blow it, or choke in front of everyone…” she trails off. This is clearly the tip of the iceberg, and she fiddles with her bracelets, trying to get out some nervous energy.

“There is no way you’re going to choke.” you say confidently, “You know this show inside and out! Plus, haven’t you been running lines with Nini the whole time?” you ask.

“Yeah,” she replies, listening carefully, trying to grab onto your reassurance.

“Almost all of Taylor’s scenes are with Gabriella.” You state. Her expression changes as she realizes you’re right. She knows this part better than she was giving herself credit for.

“Plus there will be scripts in the wings if you need to refresh between scenes.”

“Yeah,” she says again, more confident this time. “I know my lines, I know the songs, I know the dances - mostly, at least - so it’s all going to be fine! Even if the choreography in Stick to the Status Quo is still totally terrifying, and I have no idea how to dance with a lunch tray or do a death wack, it’s going to be fine!” Her laughter turned from relieved to slightly panicked again.

“You think you’re nervous for Stick to the Status Quo?” you ask rhetorically, a comedic note to your voice, “I have to get caked in the face!” You exclaim with a chuckle. You’ve only practiced with an actual cake once, during the last tech rehearsal, and it was messy, to say the least. Literally and figuratively.

Kourtney laughs, remembering the whipped cream that got everywhere, how loud you were yelling in character before storming off. It took more makeup wipes than you'd expected to get the sticky sugar off your face.

“We’ll get through it together.” You state, holding out your hand. She squeezes it, reassuringly.

“Yeah. We will.”

“Five minutes to places!” Natalie calls, poking her head in.

“Thank you five!” you both reply. You check your phone one last time, the new text from your mom stating that she’s still at the airport, waiting for Gina’s flight. You text Ricky the same thing, letting him know you’re all still waiting for more updates on the delay. The good news is that your mom’s friend from work - who was planning on coming to see the show anyway - is going to stream the show to your mom until she can get there, that way she won’t miss anything.

It doesn’t feel like five minutes has gone by when Natalie is calling for places, ushering everybody into the wings and into their starting places and positions. Hushed whispers of encouragement and break a leg spread through the wings, and everyone falls silent as Miss Jenn begins her curtain speech. It’s unusual for a group of such high energy people to be so still, so quiet, and you soak up every moment of it. This is your favorite part - or one of them, at least; it's those few fleeting minutes when everyone’s backstage in the wings, the opening of the show is seconds away and hurdling closer and closer with every breath, every heartbeat. This is one of those magical, transformative, fleeting times that can only really be described as in between.

You never knew just how much you would miss this, the distinct and irreplaceable energy, the feeling of being in a theater. Tears spring to your eyes as it really hits you that you’re home, back where you’ve always needed to be. You close your eyes, taking deep, measured breaths to focus, to get into that headspace of being in character. Even with your eyes closed, you can feel it around you; the rich wood and cement mixing into different sections of the floor, the heavy curtains, the grid and catwalk and lights, all intangibly high and far away. It’s beautiful. It’s so beautiful that you don’t know how your body is supposed to contain it. You know now that you could never leave, not really. Theatre will always be your home, and you know this feeling will only solidify more and more with time. You realize, too, that it’s a home that will always grow and change and evolve with you, because that’s in its eternal, fleeting nature. That’s the most beautiful part, you think.

You squeeze Seb’s hand in excitement and encouragement and every other good thing, a gesture that he returns. In spite of the silence and the stillness, you know that everyone is just as excited as you are. Ricky’s in the opposite wing, or else you’d be squeezing his hand right now too right now. You use this moment, this stillness that's growing and getting more charged with energy every second, to become laser focused on giving this performance everything you've got - on really getting your head in the game.

Nini looks around, then over at Ricky - again. He’s been avoiding her this whole night, and she can’t stand it. She leans closer.

“I need to talk to you. After the show.” someone shushes her, and she lowers her voice, continuing. “She’s been lying to you about everything. You don’t know everything about her, Ricky.”

“Yes, I-” he cuts himself off, not wanting to feed into this. Not now. “I have to get into character.” He says, moving away from her. He tries to focus on the energy the cast is creating around him, on becoming Troy. He takes a breath, centering himself.

“Without further ado, I am proud to present… East High’s High School Musical: the Musical!” Miss Jenn’s voice is drowned out by applause, and the music begins.

The first few songs and scenes go smoothly; everyone is on time and remembering their cues, and the audience couldn’t be more engaged, applauding and laughing right when you want them to. During Jack Scott’s announcements after Darbus reveals what the winter musical is going to be, you leave to get ready for What I’ve Been Looking For. You pass by Ricky, who’s quick changing for Get’cha Head in the Game, and shoot him a big thumbs up.

“Great job!” you whisper enthusiastically, stomping your feet quietly in excitement.

“Thanks,” he smiles, beaming as he pulls on his jersey. He watches you scurry down the hall before getting nudged toward the stage right before his cue. He shakes his head, wondering why he let Nini get him so worked up before. Of course he knows you. He knows everything about you! There’s absolutely nothing on earth you could tell him that would throw him off, or scare him away from you. She’s probably just making something up to get in his head, to drive a wedge between you. That seems like something she would do lately.

“Let’s see some hustle! Move, move, move!” Coach Bolton calls from onstage, and Ricky jogs over to him, as ready as he'll ever be.

“Sorry I’m late, coach.”

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as he’s trying to stay in character and stay focused on the scene, Nini’s words are still echoing in the back of his mind, throwing him off a little. He catches his dad’s eye in the crowd as the music starts. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this proud, and it steadies Ricky. He takes in a breath, and begins to sing. Part way through the song, he notices a woman in the crowd who looks weirdly like his mom. He doesn’t miss a beat, making sure to look in his dad’s direction instead. That’s weird, he thinks, but it can’t be her. There’s no way she’d come all the way from Chicago for something like this. Just like what Nini said to him before the show, he won’t let that distract him from performing, and tries not to let that throw him off.

During the dance break, he gets hooked up to his harness, and his stomach erupts into excited butterflies as he slowly moves up. There’s a collective gasp from the crowd that turns into cheers as he hovers in front of the hoop, ball in hand. Up here, he’s not blinded by the stage lights, and he looks down at the crowd, able to see his dad’s face even better than before. He’s filled with such euphoria, he knows you’re right - nothing can beat this feeling. He feels more alive, more awake than he ever has, simultaneously enveloped by a deep sense of peace, of rightness that he doesn’t want to let go of.

On the other side of the auditorium, someone moves, catching his eye. Some guy is making his way into his seat, presumably because he showed up late. He leans over to his date, kissing her and touching her leg. Nothing could have prepared Ricky for what he saw when he pulled away. Past the blinding stage lights, his stomach plummets back down to earth as he’s able to make out more faces in the audience - including hers. She’s here. She’s really here, and she brought that douchebag with her. She’s whispering something in that bastard’s ear, barely five rows away from his dad. They’re all over each other, talking close and kissing and smiling.

It’s only when she points up at him that he snaps out of it. He realizes the pit has been waitin for his cue a beat or two longer than usual, and follows up quickly with it. He had dropped his basketball when he was up there, and he’s scrambling to make it through the rest of the number. He tries desperately to get back into character, to focus on the lyrics and choreography, to focus on the music instead of what he just saw in front of him, but he can’t shake what just happened, what he just saw. Even as he’s being pulled backstage to change into the costume for his next scene, it takes all his effort not to let that overwhelm him. He can’t crumble right now, not like this. There’s a whole cast and crew, all his friends, that are counting on him. He gets some water, tries to pull himself together.

EJ looks for Ricky backstage, having a few minutes before their next scene. Even he has to admit he was impressed with Ricky’s performance back there. He looked so conflicted, so torn between basketball and singing. He even managed to make his distracted blocking and choreography look so organic EJ was worried he’d messed up for a second. He’s been giving him a hard time, butting heads on and off stage, but Ricky is really shining tonight. He’s committed, and EJ has to commend him for that.

“Ricky,” he says, just loudly enough to get his attention. Ricky turns around. “I have to hand it to you; you’re doing great out there, man. You deserve all the applause you’re getting.”

Ricky takes a breath, closing his water bottle.

“Thanks.”

He stares into space to the ceiling on EJ’s right, gripping his water bottle until his knuckles have a white cast to them. EJ’s brow furrows. He actually seems a little out of it.

“Are you okay?” he asks carefully. They’re not really close like that, but even EJ can see that he seems a little off.

“I’m fine,” he says a little too fast. “I am totally fine. Because it’s opening night, and nothing’s going to ruin this.”

Suddenly it makes sense. He knows exactly what Ricky’s going through. He sighs.

“Look, everybody gets stage fright. Just take a deep breath, and use the music and your lines to stay grounded.” He claps Ricky on the shoulder supportively.

“Thanks,” he chokes out again. EJ leaves to fix his mic tape, and Ricky is once again exactly where he doesn’t want to be - alone with his thoughts. Even though EJ has no idea of the scope of issues Ricky’s dealing with right now, his advice might still work. Instead of waiting in his dressing room, he hovers in the wings, going over the chemistry class scene as it happens, waiting for the lights to go down so he can talk to you, or at least be near you. He’s so tempted to barge onstage and drag you away with him. Instead he listens closely to your dialog with Gabriella. Just hearing your voice is enough for him to hold on to for now.

The lights go down, and you exit into the wings. You’re surprised to find Ricky there - he usually comes up about half way through Jack Scott’s narration. One look at his face and you know something’s wrong. Before you can ask, he’s pulling you into a less busy area by the prop table.

“She’s here.” He grips your arm, hand shaking. He doesn’t need to say anything else, you already have a full grasp on the gravity of the situation, the effect this is having on him.

“Here?” you ask, needing to clarify, and he nods. “Are you okay?” you ask sincerely.

“I’m…” he struggles for an answer, “trying to be.” You take his hands in yours so gently he doesn’t even notice until your thumbs are stroking his skin reassuringly.

“Okay,” you say calmly, and he can see the gears turning, see you figuring out the perfect solution as you speak. “Why don’t you have some water, stay right here, and I’ll go get Miss Jenn, okay?”

He nods, and you move quickly to Natalie, asking her if she knows where Miss Jenn is. She picks up her walkie talkie, asking Miss Jenn to come to the stage right wing. Jack’s narration scene wraps up and the crew changes the set to Darbus’s detention. You have seconds before you have to get out there, and you turn to Ricky, worried about him.

“Are you going to be okay?” you ask in a hushed whisper.

“Yeah.” he says, “I think so.”

You see Miss Jenn walking toward the stage right wing as you’re about to head onstage.

“We’ll talk to her right after.” you tell him in a hushed, reassuring whisper. You give his hand one more squeeze before you find your places in the dark. Moments later, the lights are up, and the scene begins. In all the time you’ve spent acting, you’ve gotten very good at staying in character, compartmentalizing thoughts and worries about your personal life while you’re onstage. You find it a little more difficult to keep the disgust at Lynne Bowen’s blatant lack of basic respect, or even awareness for the consequences of her actions, buried in the back of your mind as the scene plays out.

Sitting on the wooden flooring of the stage, warm under the bright lights, Ricky does exactly what he’s supposed to do - he uses the scene and dialog to stay grounded. He follows the dialog while doing his stage business, listening for his cues just like Miss Jenn thought him to do. If he stays in character, he doesn’t have to think about any offstage drama. As long as he doesn’t look out to that section of seats, as long as he can keep his eyes from being magnetically drawn there, he’s going to be fine. He stays in character, stays right there as Troy, clinging to his character like a life raft. If he can be Troy, he doesn’t have to worry about everything he’s going to have to deal with as Ricky for just a few more minutes. It's desperate and fleeting, but it's the only thing he can do right now.

Soon, the lights are down, and you’re hustling toward the stage right wing, where you know Miss Jenn is waiting. He finds your hand in the dark, the sparkly pink sequins on your outfit unmistakable even in the darkness. He holds onto you desperately, until you’re both standing in front of Miss Jenn. She knows from one look that whatever is going on, it’s bad.

“Um," Ricky starts, swallowing hard, "my mom is here…” he hates that his voice is already trembling so soon. It sounds more like a question than a statement, and his stomach twists at how foreign the word now feels in his mouth. My mom. The last time he called her that had been months ago when he told you and Miss Jenn what had happened. Ever since he’s only referred to her through pronouns and as briefly as possible, trying to disconnect the person she is from who she was supposed to be. Who he thought she was. The closest he’s gotten to addressing her has been vague statements; she didn’t call back, or I think that was her recipe, let’s find a different one. Actually saying it, actually calling her that makes his jaw feel stiff.

“My god.” Miss Jenn says softly, unable to believe that she could have the audacity to show up unannounced after what she put Ricky through. Ricky hesitates, and she knows there’s more. She nods, waiting for him to continue.

“And she, uh,” he swallows thickly, hating his throat for tightening up so much when he has to sing in a few minutes, “she brought her boyfriend…” Your eyes widen and Miss Jenn gasps.

“They’re in the sixth row, they keep talking and kissing, and-” he cuts himself off, unable to continue. His hands are balled up, tight and shaking.

“Okay. Ricky, sweetie, why don’t we talk about this somewhere a little more private.” You both guide him to the boys’ dressing room, and after making sure no one’s in there, she sits down facing him, and takes his hands in hers.

“From the beginning, what happened?”

He was barely able to get it out the first time, but now he can’t stop. Everything he’s been trying so hard to ignore and shove down for the last 20 minutes - and it’s felt way longer than 20 minutes - comes tumbling out. He doesn't think he could stop talking if he tried. He doesn’t even realize how loud he’s getting until Miss Jenn gently shushes him.

“We don’t want the audience to hear us.” he nods, taking a breath for the first time since he started talking. You left a minute ago to check on how much time you have before the next scene, and reenter the dressing room now, looking stressed.

“They’re almost done with Auditions.” you state. You need to go up there now, you and Seb have What I’ve Been Looking For soon, and you don’t want to miss your cue.

“Go,” she says. Ricky nods, so you do, knowing that Miss Jenn has this under control, that she can help Ricky right now. Your footsteps recede, and Ricky turns back to Miss Jenn.

“Ricky,” she starts calmly, “what she did was wildly inappropriate.” He already feels a little better, less crazy, and he waits for her to continue.

“Showing up unannounced with a…" she chooses her words carefully, "date, was… probably the worst thing that could have happened tonight.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs in agreement. She continues.

“You have every right to be as upset as you are. Whatever you need right now, just tell me, okay?” He nods. “I think what we should do is get your dad, and let him know what’s going on. I can try to have one of the ushers escort her out, but I’m sure the last thing you want tonight is even more drama.”

“Got that right,” he breathes, relieved.

“I’m going to talk to EJ and see if he can go on as Troy-”

“What? No.” he protests.

“Ricky-”

“No, Miss Jenn- I have to play Troy. Please, I have to!”

“It might be best for you-”

He stands up suddenly. “What’s best for me is going out there; acting and singing, like we rehearsed - like I’m supposed to! Please, you can’t…”

“Okay,” she says, standing up and trying to calm him down a little. “Okay. If you think you can do it, you can go back out there.”

He relaxes a little.

“Thank you.” his voice breaks as he speaks, and she realizes how badly he needs this right now.

“Why don’t we revisit this at intermission, see how you’re feeling then? Just to check up on you.” she adds quickly.

“Okay.” he agrees. She puts a hand on his arm.

“I’m going to let EJ know to get ready, just in case you change your mind. We’ve got to be ready for anything, right?” She smiles gently, one he tries to return.

“Right,” he says. A stagehand pokes his head into the room.

“Troy, we need you.”

“Be right there,” Miss Jenn says. She claps her hand over Ricky’s one more time. “Okay, Ricky, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to go out there and sing a ballad with Gabriella that will make the audience swoon,” he smiles, “and I am going to do my best to get this situation resolved as quickly and discreetly as possible. If anything else happens, or you need anything, come tell me right away.”

“Okay.” he says, this time, with a note of determination in his voice. Miss Jenn pats him on the back, sending him off. He runs through the halls, making it just in time. Once he’s in the wings, she pulls out her phone to text Mike, and fill him in on everything that’s going on. He enters on Gabriella’s cue, and Miss Jenn pauses, watching him deliver his lines. All the distress, all the pain melts away as he steps into character.

It’s giving him a break from everything, she thinks, it has been the whole time. Theatre isn’t just a luxury or a passion for some people, it’s a means of survival. It hits her all at once, that in staying here, in facing the challenges and struggles that came from directing this show, she’s helping Ricky through one of the hardest things he’ll ever go through. She’s become the person she needed when she was his age; with only one parent, feeling completely lost at sea. Her chest squeezes, and she watches them sing, their voices sending a chill through her.

Backstage, in the few dark moments of the set change for Cellular Fusion, Nina somehow manages to corner you.

“What did you do to him?” she demands, and you know she’s referring to Ricky, who exited to the other wing. You stare at her, aghast. You lean in close, lowering your voice, desperately holding on to your professionalism.

“We have to go onstage, literally right now. I am not doing this with you right now.”

“Huh,” she scoffs with a fake smile, “you’re one to talk.” You have approximately two seconds to look at her, baffled by everything she’s saying, before you have to go on. You enter, and hit your mark. At the cue, you and Seb begin to harmonize. Right as you do, your phone - tucked away in the wings - silently begins to buzz. Your phone lights up with a text from your mom, informing you that Gina’s flight has finally landed, and they’ll be at the theater any minute.

You run off stage as Cellular Fusion wraps up, and Miss Jenn and Carlos are trying to figure out what to do about the Taylor dance break coming up. Kourtney has been doing great so far, but she doesn’t think she can handle choreography that complicated with so little time to rehearse.

“I could tell the pit to cut that section…” Carlos offers. You check your phone and your eyes light up, looking at the doorway.

“Uh,” you start with a smile, “I don’t think that will be an issue…”

Miss Jenn, Carlos, and Kourtney look over at Gina, smiling timidly.

“Oh, thank god,” Miss Jenn chokes out. She turns to Kourtney, then Gina. “You, go out there before you miss your cue. And you, quick change into something more 2006 before the dance break.”

They both agree, and a stagehand runs over with something for Gina to change into, guiding her to the dressing rooms.

“Is he doing any better?” you ask Miss Jenn before you go on. You don’t have much time, but you need to know if he’s okay.

“A little,” she says, “I think.” You both know it’s better than nothing, and you’re just hoping whatever he’s doing keeps working.

Stick to the Status Quo couldn’t be going any better. There’s so much happening, so much organized chaos, that he forgets about everything for a few wonderful minutes. There’s no time to think about that when he’s dancing on tables, begging his classmates not to sacrifice their individuality so they can fit in. It only gets better when you and Seb enter toward the end of the number. You look so genuinely pissed off that people are breaking free from the boxes they’ve been put in, and your voices sound perfect harmonizing together, reverberating through the auditorium.

He tries in vain to stop Zeke from giving you a cake, watching with bated breath as it smashes into your face. He turns away, just like he’s supposed to, but his eyes accidentally land on the one place in the audience he shouldn't be looking at. His stomach plummets. Has she been on her phone this whole time? After running from everything this whole night, it finally gets the best of him. He can’t stand it any longer, running into the wings as you let out an ear shattering scream, loud enough to finally make her look up.

“Someone… is going… to pay for this!” you yell furiously, before the lights go down. The curtain draws to a close as applause thunders through the building. The lights in the house go up for intermission, and you hear a slow rise of chatter as people mill about and make conversation as you exit the stage. You grab a makeup wipe a stagehand has ready, thanking them as Natalie calls out that intermission is starting, and you have 20 minutes to places for act two.

“Thank you 20,” you call out distractedly, searching for Ricky. You run to the back, wiping the rest of the whipped cream off your face, and check the boys dressing room to see if he’s in there. He is, sitting in there by himself, seeming worse than before. One look at his face and you know something else happened.

“She was on her fucking phone the whole time!” he states in disbelief, “Like…” The words dry up as he holds a pillow in his lap in a death grip.

“Oh my god…” you say, shaking your head. He’s not doing good, clearly. No one would be in his position. He pulls you in for a hug as soon as you’re close enough, one you reciprocate. He holds onto you tight, feeling just a little more stable as soon as you’re in his arms. Surrounded by your familiar grasp, it’s just a little easier to breathe, to think clearly. Unfortunately, it also means he has a much clearer grasp on everything that’s happened tonight and how it’s affecting him, how he feels about it. His dad is right behind you, and he lets go of you long enough to stand up and greet him. His dad pulls him into a hug, patting his back.

“I’m so sorry, kid. I had no idea she was going to pull something like this.” Mike’s voice wavers, and when Ricky doesn’t answer, you know it’s because he’s choked up. Miss Jenn enters a moment later, walking over to Ricky and Mike.

“The both of them have been removed from the premises.” She states.

“Thank you,” Mike says earnestly.

“Oh, it was nothing a little faked parking violation couldn't take care of," she says, earning a small smile from Mike. She turns to Ricky, continuing. “I filled you dad in on what’s been going on, too.”

“Maybe we should just go home,” Mike offers, knowing he probably won’t want to.

“No,” he protests, “I can do act two, I want to. Plus, if we leave now, she’ll know where we are and she’s going to ambush us again, and-”

“The one place you’re guaranteed not to run into her is here at the theater.” you finish quietly.

“Yeah,” Ricky agrees, motioning to you. Mike considers, weighing his options. Since she’s gone, if Ricky thinks he can handle it, he doesn’t see why he can’t do the second half of the show - especially since he seems to want to so badly. Maybe now isn’t the time to take that away from him, even if he means well.

“Okay,” he sighs. “But if anything happens, if you change your mind at all-”

“You’re the first to know.” Ricky agrees quickly.

“I want you to stay plugged in with me, okay?” Mike says, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Text me when you’re not onstage, let me know how you’re doing.” Ricky agrees again. Miss Jenn looks between them.

“Alright. Well, in that case, Ricky, you should get changed for act two.” She says with a tentative smile. He nods.

“Thank you. Thank you guys.” he says sincerely to his dad and Miss Jenn. Before you leave, you catch his eye.

“I’m going to refill my water, then I’ll be back here, okay?”

“Sounds good." He says, "Hurry back,” he adds quickly, giving you that sweet look with those big puppy dog eyes, and it makes your chest squeeze.

“Absolutely.” you agree.

You barely leave the dressing room before you're met with Nina. She barges forward and stands in front of you, arms crossed, and you realize she's waiting for you to move out of the way so she can get into the boys' dressing room. You don't budge.

“I need to talk to Ricky. I heard what happened, and I'm the only one who can convince him to go on for the second act, and I don’t need you-”

“Wow,” you begin, cutting her off, once again amazed at her audacity, “now is really not a good time. Don’t go in there and stir things up.”

She looks you up and down, letting out an indignant scoff.

“Don’t act like you know him like that. I’ve known him since we were in kindergarten, I know him better than anyone.”

You take in a deep breath, trying so hard to stay patient.

“Sure. You know him better than anyone.” you say, in a pacifying tone, “So you should know the last thing he needs is more pressure on him when he’s in the middle of a family crisis, right?” The question is rhetorical, and you continue, patience with her finally starting to run thin. “If you actually care about him, then for the sake of his well being you’ll leave him alone and let him get through this. Now is really not the time, Nina, read the goddamn room!”

The sentence is finished with an aggravated, humorless laugh. Your priorities right now are Ricky, and getting through opening night. You need to help him process some of the shit that's been happening tonight, make sure he’s okay, so he can perform like he wants to. The last thing he needs is Nina barging in there and telling him he’s letting the cast down, or that he’s not serious about theatre, and that he should have quit after auditions - all of which you’ve heard more times than you can count over the duration of rehearsals, even up to a few days ago.

You’ve tried so hard to be patient with her, but dear god, she’s really starting to get on your last nerve - nevermind the fact that you have a special type of hatred for the kind of people like Nina, who shit on people that are still learning about something they have more experience in; like telling someone they’re not serious about theatre because it’s their first show, for example.

“Do not fuck with him right now.” you state, rolling your eyes at her shocked expression.

You push past her, walking over to the water fountain. She watches you walk away, mouth hanging open, and lets out an indignant scoff. You swear to god, if one more thing goes wrong tonight, if one more person tries you, you’re going to absolutely lose it. You take a few deep breaths as you fill up your bottle, trying to calm down and center yourself a little. Once you’re done, you start to walk back to the dressing rooms, but you’re stopped by a woman who is definitely not cast or crew. She sees you and approaches, seeming a little pissy.

“I’m looking for Ricky Bowen?” she states. As she speaks, your stomach drops.

You recognize her voice from when you heard it on the phone, and from the voicemail Ricky showed you over Thanksgiving. This is Lynne Bowen. As in, the Lynne Bowen. The one that left. The same woman who’s made such a tactless and selfish decisions over and over that have ultimately caused her son to be on the verge of a breakdown just down the hall from where you’re standing right now.

“You are not supposed to be back here.” you state, desperately trying to figure out how to handle this. You pull out your phone and text Miss Jenn, ‘code red, really need backup’.

“Can you just tell me where Ricky Bowen is? I’m his mother.” she says it in a way immediately expects sympathy from you, sympathy she doesn’t receive. You stare at her blankly, and she continues, much less kind than she’d been pretending to be. “I need to see my son, okay? Maybe when you’re a mother someday you’ll understand-”

You’re not sure what about her, about the way she’s talking to you specifically is the last straw for you, but your patience is already running so thin it’s practically transparent. Against your better judgment, you cut her off.

“He does not want to see you. He doesn’t want to speak to you - or be anywhere near you right now, for the record - and you need to fucking respect that, okay?” you say decisively, offense written all over her face, “And you are really not allowed to be backstage if you’re not cast or crew, which you’re clearly not-”

“You are way out of line, young lady!” she yells, “I don’t care if he doesn’t want to talk. I’ll talk to him if I want to; I’m his mother.” She adjusts her purse, clearly expecting you to fold, to tell her where he is. You know you should keep your mouth shut, you know you should be diplomatic and patient and professional like you always are, you should wait for Miss Jenn to handle this, but you’ve spent the past three months watching Ricky suffer because of this woman and her choices. You can’t stay quiet when the woman who hurt him is right in front of you.

“I think you lost the right to pull that shit when you walked out the door and chose not to be in his life!” you snap, a dangerous smile on your face. The stunned look on her face is better than anything you’ve ever seen. It’s clear no one has ever tried to take her down a peg until now.

“How dare-”

“You gave him a free pass to hate you forever, because you’re not the parent who stayed! You didn’t try-”

Your words lose momentum as you find yourself suddenly looking at the wall to your right, your cheek stinging. The sound of her slapping you across the face echos across the walls for a moment before fading away, and you freeze, tears prickling the corners of your eyes from shock.

“Listen here you little slut,” she says, much more ferocious than before. All facades of a concerned mother have melted away. “You have no right to talk to me like that-”

“What the fuck?!”

You snap out of it, and she turns around at Ricky’s voice at the end of the hall.

“Ricky, my baby,” she starts, walking toward him, but she’s thrown off at how distant he seems toward her. “I’m sorry you had to see that, this girl is so-”

“Don’t ever talk about her like that again.” His voice is stone cold as he brushes past her, analyzing your expression closely to see if you’re alright.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice shaky.

“I’m fine,” you say as calmly as possible, “are you okay?”

He’s decidedly not, but he tries to pull himself together.

“If you are, that’s all that matters.” Behind him, growing impatient, Lynne takes a step forward.

“Ricky,” she demands. He takes a breath, and leans closer to you.

“You should change for act two.” You look between them, wishing there was something else you could do, some way that you could make this better. You agree, stopping before you leave for your dressing room.

“Text me if you need anything.” you say seriously, and he agrees, understanding the subtext of your words. Text you if he needs backup, or if it gets to be too much, because you’re there for him. Lynne moves toward him again.

“Can we talk?” she says with a domineering tone to her voice, and you both know it’s not a question. You want to object, but all he wants is to get her away from you. He nods, indicating you should go, and you do - albeit, very reluctantly. He turns back to her.

“Yeah,” he says seriously, “I think we need to.”

She grabs his arm to lead him down another stretch of hallway, but he shakes her off immediately, walking a few feet in front of her.

“Ricky, are you alright?” she demands, once they’re relatively out of earshot. She crosses her arms. “I was so worried about you when you ran offstage like that.”

“I’m surprised you noticed.” he murmurs. She either ignores him or doesn’t hear. Regardless, she continues.

“Why did you leave? Is it stage fright? Because a lot of people are counting on you, honey. You made a commitment to this-”

“You’re one to talk about commitment,” he mutters, voice low, but loud enough to be heard. His impulse control is not at all where it should be, especially with how she just talked to you, what she called you.

“I’m sorry?” Lynne demands. She’s not used to Ricky yelling at her. She’s always had a lot of influence over him. He used to do everything she said, he’s always been such a mama’s boy until now.

“I mean, do you ever think about anyone besides yourself?” he snaps, “Did you even care that you ruined the only thing I’ve been able to count on in my life- I can never get this night back, Lynne. And now…” he trails off, trying so hard to regulate his emotions, even though he knows he’s out of control. He takes a shaky breath, trying with everything he has inside him to reign it back in a little.

“...Why would you bring him to the show?”

Lynne looks stunned at his question.

“Wh-” she starts, “This is about Todd?”

“Why would you bring him here?” He demands, repeating himself.

“I…” she struggles for an answer, “wanted him to meet you.” she infuses as much guilt into her words as she can. He should feel bad for the way he’s speaking to her. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to throw you off.”

It doesn’t work this time, and he refuses to back down, to fawn for her. He doesn’t buy it for a second.

“So you waited until I was suspended, mid air over a basketball hoop, for me to see you all… cozied up together? You didn’t think - not for one second - that might be just a little upsetting to me?!”

“Ricky-”

“And what about dad, huh? How do you think he feels watching you feel each other up right in front of him?” tears brim in the corners of his eyes as everything he’s been suppressing all night, all these weeks and months finally breaks the surface. She lets out an indignant scoff and tries to say something, but he ignores her and keeps going. It’s an avalanche now, and he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

“He didn’t leave the couch for a week after you left!” he roars, remembering how hard it was to see his dad like that, to have to be the one to drag him out of it.

“...I didn’t know that-”

“How could you?!” he laughs bitterly, "You weren't there!" He screams. He doesn't think it's ever felt better to say something than it does now. "You weren't there the whole time I was rehearsing, you weren't the one running lines and going over blocking, and teaching me how to listen for cues and do stage makeup and quick change! You weren't there for any of the work that went into this, and you just waltz in here with the newest guy you're screwing to your fucking son's musical like you've been here the whole time, but you havent!" He's never yelled at her like this, but a part of him thinks after how much she hurt him - and his dad - it's long overdue. "You don't get to enjoy this show, and you don't get to be around me, or dad, or anything we do because you walked out!"

"You are way out of line-" she starts, voice cracking.

"No, you know what’s way out of line?" He demands, all too ready to throw her words back in her face. "Breaking my heart, breaking dad’s heart, then acting like everything is fine when it’s not!"

"You think I wanted to leave you?!" She screams back at him.

"Yeah," he answers quickly, "I do, because you did! And you know what? I'm glad you left." He spits, watching the pain grow in her eyes, his words like venom.

"All you do is hurt us."

She blinks like she was just slapped. He takes a step forward, shaking, angry tears silently spilling from his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is low and dead serious.

"Don't call me anymore."

Before she can say anything, he starts to walk away. She calls out to him, desperate to get the last word in, to make him know how much pain his words have caused her.

"You are really hurting me, Ricky." She says, voice shaking as she cries, "you're breaking your mother's heart."

The sound of his mother crying like that because of something he said should have wrecked him, but he pushes away any last remaining scraps of guilt his rage hasn't burned away yet. He turns back to her, no love in his eyes, and laughs bitterly.

"Yeah, I guess it runs in the family. You know, the one thing I got from you is the ability to ruin any relationship I have, so thanks for that, mom." He spits, turning to leave. She takes a step forward.

"Don’t you walk away from me-"

"Like mother like son, huh?" He barks. With that, he's gone. He doesn't stick around for any more of her manipulation or guilt tactics. He just really, really needs to see you right now.

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