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viking-raider · 2 years

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SWIPE - PART ONE

Summary: Swiping on someone means taking a chance on them, and you and Henry take a big chance on each other!

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 6,523

Warning: PG-13 - Cotton Candy Fluff, Angst, Break up, Open Secret, Long Distance Relationship

Inspiration: Something I read.

Author’s Note: Takes please before Sand Castle! I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

Henry felt stupid for downloading the app, who on this planet would believe the real Henry Cavill would have a profile on Tinder.

But, here he was, sitting on his couch in London, starting at his blank profile, they asked about his passions and for photos of him, he added one from his camera roll that he had taken at an after party and never posted on social media and took a selfie, figuring if he added photos that weren't anywhere on the great wide web, it might make his profile look a bit less fake and like someone trying to be a catfish.

He shook his head at the profile, it wanted to know everything, which he figured was understandable. He added music, gaming, dog lover, running, football, board games, military, reading and cooking to his list of passions and interests. Filled Taurus as his Zodiac and a dog for having pets, before giving the job title, a hard stare.

“What do I put?” Henry asked, looking across the couch to Kal. “Movie Star? Actor? Celebrity—no that's not a fucking job title. Ugh, I'll come back to it.” He huffed, skipping and put none for company and Stowe Boarding School in the next blank section, for education.

“Okay, that's a complicated question!” He laughed, shaking his head. “Where am I living?”

“London, Florida, Los Angeles.” He snorted, before bringing up his phone's keyboard and typed in, the world. “I'm definitely not linking my Instagram to this! Granted, it'll probably help with people not thinking I'm a fake! But the amount of traffic I'd probably get would be insane, and that's not what I want with this profile.” He said, ignoring that field.

But he did add his Spotify to his Tinder, before putting in his gender, sexual orientation and allowing his age and distance to be shown.

“All right, buddy.” Henry sighed, clicking save on his profile, and set his phone down beside him, with an anxious heart. “This is so dumb, no one is going to swipe on me.” He mumbled, chewing on his bottom lip and drumming his fingers on his thighs.

“Fuck it.” He snapped, snatching up his phone and started looking at profiles.

Many of the women he saw in the profiles were very pretty and gorgeous, but either something in their profile turned him off or he just didn't feel a click with them, causing Henry to swipe left on them. He sat on his couch, unaware of the two hours that passed while he checked out profile after profile. He noticed a couple Blue Stars on profiles he looked at, knowing they Super Liked his profile, but felt unease and overly cautious about liking them back.

“I just don't know.” Henry sighed, shaking his head and staring at his phone. “I'm just going to delete it.”

“Seriously!” You yelled, tears dripping down your face. “Now? Now, is when you decide to break up with me!”

“I can't do it!” Your boyfriend of six years screamed back, a vein bulging in his neck. “I can't do this anymore! Keep the fucking flat! Keep the fucking dog too, for all I care! I'm over you and all of this.” He hissed, arms wildly pointing around the living room.

You beat your clenched fists against the sides of your thighs and let out a shrill scream of frustration. “Fine! Then, pack your shit and fuck off!” You huffed, trembling and trying to swallow down your growing influx of tears.

“GET OUT!” You bellowed, stabbing a finger towards the door.

He stared at you for a long time, his brown eyes burning with hateful words and actions he wanted so badly to say to you, but instead, he turned on his heels and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door with such force it rattled the door frame and walls. You choked on your tears for a moment, before turning away and sitting down on the couch, pressing your hands to your damp face as fresh tears washed over you. You felt the nudge of something cold against your arm and a low whine, the dog you and your boyfriend had gotten together a year and half ago came and sat beside you, poking his chilly, black nose against your elbow, concerned.

Rubbing your palms over your face, you looked down at the pup, staring into his spooky, ice blue eyes, he was your baby. He was a Northern Inuit, all silver, except for a faded mask on his head, that was a soft charcoal color between and up his ears and eyes, before fading off just short of his muzzle. You loved his big, satellite dish ears, especially when he was a puppy, even now, they were still just a bit too big for him, and his plush, double-coat, that you honestly didn't mind shed like crazy. It was no wonder that these dogs were so commonly used as wolves in tv shows and movies, they looked a lot like them.

But, your pup was the sweetest marshmallow in the whole world.

“I'm sorry.” You whimpered, your jaw quivering. “I'm so sorry.” Your voice cracked, before you threw your arms around his thick neck and sobbed anew into it.

“You need to get back out there.”

“No, I don't.” You sighed, shaking your head at your best friend, as the two of you sat in a restaurant, having lunch. “I'm over dating. I have my dog and he's the only man I need in my life.” You told her, picking at the plate of food in front of you.

“Besides, no one will want me, Kelly.”

“Well, too bad!” Kelly proclaimed, picking up her phone. “I made you a Tinder profile this morning.”

“You what!?” You barked, shocked. “You did not!”

“I did, and you'll like it!” She grinned, pulling the app up on her phone. “Now, I only filled in the basic stuff I know about you.”

“Which should be more than I know, we've only been friends since we were toddlers.” You countered, rolling your eyes at her.

Kelly gave you a look, before looking back at the app. “Anyway, the only thing left, that I didn't fill in, was the 'about me', which I was sure you would want to fill in yourself.”

“I don't want to fill in any of it, Kelly.” You told her, sighing heavily and took a sip of your ice water.

“Again, too bad.” She replied, sarcastically. “What do you want to put on it?” She pressed, determined not to take no for an answer.

You drew in a deep breath, knowing she wasn't going to give in, and rolled your eyes at her, before holding out your hand for her phone. “I'll type it in myself, thank you very much, my Fairy Tinder God Mother.” You told her, snarkily.

“If I find out you deleted it, I'll put it back up and run that bitch myself!” Kelly threatened, handing her phone over to you. “Have those men showing up at your apartment, like a blind date.”

“I would kill you.” You remarked, focusing on her phone as you tried to think of something to put in the about me that summed you up; short and sweet. “All right there, done.” You sighed, finishing up and passing her the phone back.

“I'll text you the login information, so you can download the app, then we can look at the guys on it and see if there's any good ones.” She said, sending it to you.

“Really, [email protected] and I love hand jobs 45.” You frowned, looking over at her, brow lifted. “That's the email and password you set up for me.”

“Yep!” Kelly grinned, incredibly proud of herself, before sliding into a chair beside you. “Now, let's see who Tinder suggests you match up with.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you really didn't want to do this, but you humored Kelly. “Fine.” You grumbled, going to the matches and frowned at the first match. “God, no! He looks like he has more beauty products in the bathroom than I do.” You groaned, shaking your head at the profile picture.

“And what the fuck is that about me?” Kelly replied, grimacing at it. “'No special snowflakes, not into plague ridden vaginas.' You are so swiping left on that guy.” She said, reaching out to do it for you.

“Oh, well.” You perked up a little bit. “He's cute, he has a great smile and seems to have a really good job and loves dogs.” You said, glancing to Kelly for approval.

“No, he looks like a dude that takes a girl to an expensive restaurant, makes her pay the bill, then ghosts her.” She shook her head, her face twisting with disgust. “Left!”

“Hey!” You protested, trying to stop her, slapping at her hand. “I still wanna swipe right on him!”

“Friends to let friends swipe on ghosts!” Kelly argued, managing to finally get the swipe on him. “Holy crap, look at this!” She giggled, pulling your phone out of your hand. “There's a Superman profile.”

“What's a Superman profile?” You frowned at her, leaning against her to see what she was looking at.

“This is the guy that played Superman, Henry Cavill.” She explained, checking out his profile. “He is such a hunk, I would let the man fuck me silly and break me in half.” She giggled, licking her lips and rubbing her thighs together.

“It's probably fake though, how could a man like that need the help of Tinder?” You asked, doubtful, looking at the profile over her shoulder.

“Probably, but let's have some fun with it.” Kelly grinned, swapping up.

“What, no!” You protested, grabbing at your phone. “You won't let me swipe right on a real profile, but you'll Super Like a fake one. What's the deal, Kelly?” You groaned, shaking your head at her.

“Oh, just have some fun with him, if this poser is going to try and act like a celeb, then why not play along for a bit.” She chuckled, clearly amused by the thought of fooling this guy.

“I don't like it, Kelly. It's not right.” You sighed, looking at the other profiles.

“You're no fun.” Kelly pouted, batting her lashes at you.

Henry didn't even notice the noise of the airport that he was sitting in, his focus on his screen. He had told himself a hundred times that he would delete his Tinder profile, but here he was, a month later, still on and using it. He had swiped right a few women and spoken to a couple of them, even less believed it was truly him they were speaking too. So, in the end, they stopped speaking. One of the women did end up believing in him, but the connection and conversation started to become strange and a bit on the stalker side, so Henry had to block her.

But, while he was sitting there, waiting for his flight, he got the notification that someone had passed him a Super Like. He sighed, readying himself for another possible disastrous encounter, and opened the notification, but paused seeing the four photos belonging to the profile.

“She's beautiful.” Henry mumbled out loud, licking his lips and shifting in his seat, tapping to see more of profile. “Oh!” His mouth dropped open, seeing the about me, gulping. “That's quite something.” He said, biting his lip, and scrolled back up to the photos. “But, there's something about her. There's just something about her.” He mumbled, his thumb hovering to swipe.

“Oh, what the hell.” He grinned, his thumb shifted and swiping up, just as his flight was announced to board.

While standing in line, Henry opened the private messages and thumbs poised above his keyboard, tapping his foot as he tried to come up with something to say to his Match, he didn't want to come off too strong or awkward, he especially didn't want to come off fake.

“It's so much easier meeting people in person.” Henry mumbled, pocketing his phone, feeling intimidated.

Getting on the plane and finding his seat, Henry settled in with Kal, the thoughts of the private message still tugging on his mind. Groaning, he pulled his phone back out and quickly typed in a message before the flight crew started their safety demonstration and all the passengers' cell phones had to be turned off for take off.

Henry: Hi, I'm Henry.

It was simple, polite and to the point, at least Henry felt like it was, as he shut his phone off and put it back into his pocket, resting his hand on Kal's neck, to settle his nerves.

You were sitting at your work desk, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to get your brain flowing on the work on your computer screen, when your phone buzzed loudly on the stack of files next to your elbow.

“Please, Jesus, don't let it be Craig, asking me about the damn report again, or I swear to all that's holy, I will go down to his cubicle and beat him with it.” You growled under your breath, picking up your phone, squeezing your eyes shut as you activated the screen, before looking at the notification. “Oh Jesus.” You gulped, an icy lump of anxiety forming in your chest as you noticed the notification was from Tinder.

Someone had Matched and messaged you.

“Don't be a creep, don't be a creep.” You chanted, opening the notification and felt another blow to your psyche. “You have to be kidding me. I'm going to kill Kelly for doing this to me.” You sighed, reading the message.

Match: Hi, I'm Henry.

“Why, God! Why?” You whined, dropping your phone to your desk and slapping your palms to your face. “Why do I attract the nuts?”

“Because nuts like being in shells.”

You yelped in startled surprise, jumping in your seat and twirling around to face the voice. “Craig, I swear to God, if you sneak up on me again, I'll run over your foot.” You threatened, pressing a hand to your chest.

“Yeah, it's probably not a good thing, with a woman in your condition.” He retorted, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Fuck off.” You hissed, rolling your eyes at him and turning back towards your desk.

“I will, when you give me that report I asked you to finish for me.” Craig answered, glaring at you, hotly.

Rolling your eyes shut and swallowing down the insult you really wanted to spit at him, you turned sideways to the stack of files you had and rifled through them, until you came upon the manila file folder he wanted. “The Lincoln and Monroe case.” You said, handing it back over your shoulder to him, not wanting to see his face, even for the second it took to give him the folder.

“Thank you.” He smiled, smugly, then returned to his cubicle.

“I hope you choke on it.” You mumbled under your breath, then sighed, rubbed your face and turned your phone back over, looking at Henry's message. “When on Tinder, act like Kelly.” You sighed, picking it up.

You: Hey, how's it going?

You stared at your reply for a moment, should you have given him your name back? He gave you his, if he actually was Henry Cavill. But, he could also see your name on your profile, so maybe it didn't matter. If it did, he could simply ask you. Closing the app, you messaged Kelly, sure she would get a real kick out of the Henry Cavill profile swiping up and messaging you.

Kelly: How long are you going to string him along?

You: I don't know, depends on how much of an ass he makes of himself.

Kelly: That should take too long with fakers like these!

You laughed at her comment, knowing she was right, people that cat-fished couldn't help themselves, showing off and causing trouble for the person they try and peg as a victim, but you weren't going to fall for it with this guy, you knew his game.

It wasn't until you were on the way home that you got a reply to your message from Henry, but you decided to wait until you were home to read and reply to it. Setting your bag and keys on the counter and loving on your dog, you made yourself a cup of tea and got comfortable on the couch.

“All right, bud, let's see what this guy's got up his sleeve.” You said, opening Tinder.

Henry: It's going well. I hope you're doing all right. How was your day?

You snorted. “Look at this, Ghost.” You grinned, showing your screen to your dog, as he sat beside you. “Mmhm.” You chuckled, taking a sip of your tea and set it on your side table, beside you.

You: Good to hear. My day went the same it always does, full of legal reports and mountains of file folders. How about yours, Henry?

You tucked your phone between the couch cushions and grabbed the tv remote, flicking the tv on and looking for something to watch, while also waiting to see if you got a reply. Which came a few minutes later.

Henry: Legal reports, you a lawyer or something? As for my day, it's going pretty well. I am a bit tired though, because I had to travel from London to LA for some work.

You: No, I'm a legal researcher for one of the biggest law offices in my area. But, your day does sound a lot better than mine. I would rather be on an airplane, then stuck in a freaking cubicle all day long.

“If he thinks I believe this, he can get wrecked.” You said, looking over at Ghost, who just lifted an uninterested brow at you.

Henry: I wouldn't wish that on anyone, honestly. I saw in your pictures, you have a dog, what is it?

“Oh, he wants to know about you, bud.” You grinned, chuckling.

You: He's a Northern Inuit, almost two years old, called Ghost.

Henry: Ghost? Seems very appropriate by the looks of him.

You: Indeed. I know about your pup, Kal. Haven't seen him on your Tinder though.

You bit your lip, wondering if he would take the bait you set out for him.

There wasn't a message from him for a several long minutes, making you wonder if you had scared him off, but you noticed a new photo uploaded to his profile. Tapping on the photo, you saw it was the Bear, half standing with his front paws on the bottom of a bed, his mouth open and long pink tongue rolled out, like he was smiling at the camera and a clear pair of human legs also showing at the bottom of the photo, like Henry was sitting up against the headboard, when he took the picture.

“Well, I'll be damned.” You choked on your sip of tea, setting your cup down and patting yourself on the chest. “Let's see how easy it is to find this photo, shall we?” You said, doing a reverse search on it, but came up empty. “What do you know, looks like it might be real.” You mumbled, rather surprised and caught off guard.

You: That's absolutely adorable. I would totally steal him from you!

You: I'm kidding. Not really though. Ghost is dying for a brother. Lmao!

Henry: Maybe, when I'm back in the area, Kal and Ghost could have a doggy date?

You bit your lip, staring at his message for a long moment, gulping.

You: Maybe, we can see.

“So, this is the photo he posted, after I mentioned he didn't have a photo of Kal on his Tinder profile last night.” You were telling Kelly during your lunch, the next day. “I did a reverse search on it, and it didn't come up anywhere on the internet and it's not even on his official Instagram.” You told her, finally taking a bite of your lunch that had arrived several minutes before.

“He even suggested a doggy date for Ghost and Kal, when he gets back from LA.” You added, despite your mouth still being full.

“Seriously?” Kelly smiled, setting your phone down, so she could dig into her own food.

“Yeah, part of me thinks it's kinda cute.” You smirked, sipping your water.

“Woman, this dude is a damn catfish, you can't fall for him!” She protested, kicking you in the shin under the table.

“Ouch!” You jerked, rubbing at your leg. “If he's a catfish, how did he get an unreleased photo?” You asked, scowling at her.

“I don't know, but I still don't think it's the real Superman.” She replied, narrowing her eyes at you. “If you fall for this shitter, I'm going to hide your slip on shoes.”

“Ugh! That's horrid!” You retorted, outraged.

“You falling for this guy is horrid!” She said, just as your phone rang. “Is that him!?” She asked, trying to grab your phone before you did.

“Back off, demon!” You barked, smacking her hand with your fork and swiping up your phone. “And yes, it is him.”

Henry: How's the office going?

You: I'm at lunch with my demon at the moment.

Henry: ...Your Demon?

You: My friend Kelly, she's demonic as all get out.

“What is he saying?” Kelly asked, leaning over the table to see your screen.

“Woman, sit down!” You laughed, grinning at her. “What do you care, he's a fake shitter, remember?”

Your phone buzzed and you looked down at your messages, before you busted out laughing. “Okay, Real Superman or not, he's got a great sense of humor.” You giggled, seeing his message about an Amazon sale for Same-Day delivery of Holy Water.

You: That is pure gold!

Henry: You have to do what you have to do. Lol!

“What did he send you?” Kelly asked, seeing you grinning at your phone.

“He sent me an ad for holy water, so I can deal with your demonic butt!” You said, before dipping your fingers into your water glass and flicking droplets into her face. “I just might have to order a case too.” You chuckled, licking your lips.

Henry laughed as he kicked out of his running shoes, returning from his afternoon run and seeing your message. The pair of you had been speaking pretty regularly for the last two weeks and it was going so well, you hadn't gone all creeper, fan girl on him and talking to you was one of the easiest things Henry had ever done in his life. He looked forward to your messages throughout the day, you were usually the first person he spoke to in the morning or the first message he read, as well as the last person or message he sent at night.

He found you to be funny, lighthearted and incredibly intelligent, you clearly loved your dog, which meant a lot to Henry, since he loved Kal just as much, and you didn't seem to mind that he was a big time actor and celebrity, but he did still get the feeling you weren't entirely convinced he was who he said he was; though he couldn't blame you either. Henry respected your caution and even appreciated it, to a point, that you weren't willing to blindly believe he was who he said he was and follow along, it told him a lot.

But, he also wanted to reassure you that he was being truthful with you. He just wasn't entirely sure how to do it, in a way that would cause you to be comfortable. He could be returning home in another two weeks and there was that possible meet up for a doggy play date, you both could take Ghost and Kal to a local dog park, but that worried Henry because he was a celebrity and the possibility of paparazzi being in the area and catching sight of him, then taking photos of the two of you, wasn't something Henry wanted to put you through. Though he did know of a private, indoor dog park he could take the two of you too, he had taken Kal there several times.

There was also the possibility of Face Timing each other or just talking on the phone in general, allowing you to hear his voice. However, asking you to Face Time or talk on the phone made Henry nervous and shy, him asking you on a doggy date had been impulsive.

“What do you think, Kal?” Henry asked, pulling a bottle of Rosemary water out of the mini fridge. “Should I ask her to video call or speak with me on the telephone?” He said, cracking open the white and green bottle, and chugged down the still, Rosemary-infused water. “I want her to trust me, to really trust me, before and if we actually meet in real life.” He sighed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

His phone vibrated on the small table in his hotel room and Henry bit his lip. “Maybe, just speaking on the phone first, would be easier. Then, if that goes well, we can Face Time and when I get back home, we can meet up for that play date with you and Ghost.” He said, staring at his phone, trying to gather the strength and courage to pick it up and ask if you would swap phone numbers with him.

You: The only place I can run to is my bathroom.

Henry chuckled at your message, before staring at it for a moment longer and answering; I was thinking, but this is totally up to you, if you wanted to talk on the phone? He bit his lip and paced the room, phone clutched in his hand.

It took nearly an hour and a half for your reply to finally come, giving Henry the time to shower and have something to eat. His heart was in his throat as he checked your answer, worried you were going to tell him no or that you didn't want to talk to him anymore.

You: Sure.

“Oh, thank god.” Henry laughed, falling back against the couch cushions, a huge smile on his face. “She said yes, Kal!” He called out to the Akita.

Henry: When's good for you?

You: I get off tomorrow, at four. So, any time after that. If it's good for you.

Henry: How about five-thirty? Give you time to relax and eat dinner.

You: Sounds good.

You and Henry exchanged phone numbers, you even installed WhatsApp to make it easier to interact with him and the two of you started texting there, it gave you and Henry a freedom to chat that the DMs on Tinder didn't, like being able to call each other or send photos and videos, if you liked. The first thing Henry sent you through text message on WhatsApp was a video of Kal getting the zooms around the sitting area of his hotel room, making you chuckle at him.

You: Ghost can do tricks too!

“Ghost, you wanna sing for Kal and Henry?” You asked, getting up and turning on your Bluetooth speaker, then found Ghost's favorite song on your Spotify. “You ready?” You grinned, turning your video feed on the Inuit and hit play on the song.

“Let it rip!”

Henry received the video and felt giddy, pressing play on it, he was met with the song, Great Unknown by the X Ambassadors, and Ghost sitting in front of your phone, his big silver body wiggling as the lyrics streamed out of the speakers and every time there was a pause, Ghost would bark and if they were drawn out, he would howl along; even jumping up on his back legs, like he was doing a little dance. Henry laughed at the video, finding it incredibly cute and felt his heart flutter, when he caught the sound of you laughing a little bit at one point.

“I can't wait to talk to her tomorrow.” He mumbled, playing the video again, as he laid back on the bed. “I bet she has a sweet voice.” He grinned, biting his lip, a dreamy look in his blue eyes.

You chucked your shoes across the room as you entered your flat, your heart thundering in your chest as you dropped your bag on the side table and rushed for the bathroom. Henry was supposed to be calling you at five-thirty. Which was in forty-five minutes! You would have been home sooner, if Craig hadn't been an ass and held you later, so you had to scramble, showering and changing into something more comfortable than your work clothes and tossed something simple together for dinner. You had been intermittently talking to Henry throughout the day, but not as much as most days, since your workload was heavier than usual and Henry was up to something of his own.

You had just managed to finish eating and to load your dinner bowl and fork into the dishwasher, when your phone started to ring, a sudden rush of anxious nausea hitting you. But, you quickly nabbed your phone off the coffee table, took a deep breath as you stared at Henry's caller ID on the screen, then hit answer.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You squeaked, feeling the last of your doubt get pushed out as Henry's soft and deep voice came over the connection. “Did you have a good day?” You asked, grasping to get a hold on yourself.

“I did, for the most part.” Henry replied, smirking, excited that he finally got to hear your voice. “I hope that you did?” He cooed, shifting to get comfortable on the bed.

“It went all right, I suppose.” You sighed, taking a seat on the couch and crossing your legs.

“You sound tired.” He pointed out, his brow pinching with concern. “You all right?” He asked, worried.

“Yeah, I'll be fine, promise.” You chuckled back, shaking your head. “The downfalls of an asshole boss deciding he wants to dump an extra case on me.” You groaned, racking a hand over your face.

“Should he be doing that?” Henry frowned, taking an instant disliking to your boss. “Given, you know?” He mumbled, biting his lip.

You took a deep breath and bit your lip. “It'll be fine. It's nothing I can't deal with. I'm almost done with one of the cases I'm researching for the firm, so it'll blow over.” You tried to reassure him, a lump in your throat, knowing Henry's concern was well placed, but you also wondered why he was even interested in you because of it.

“Anyway, all that's just boring and depressing, what've you been doing all day?” You asked, putting a light and cheery tone in your voice.

Henry laughed, smiling shyly. “I don't know how exciting what I've been doing all day really is.” He admitted, picking at the blanket next to him. “I just met up with my agent about a couple of possible role opportunities and discussed the future of a few roles I'm already tied to.” He explained, resting his head back against the headboard.

“Anything you're excited about?” You asked, hugging a pillow to your chest.

“Maybe.” He sighed, tilting his head as he thought about it. “There's a possible war movie out in Jordan, I've been specifically asked to play a part in. I'd play a Captain in the Special Forces during the 2003 Iraq war.”

“That sounds like it would be a lot of fun.” You replied, propping your feet up on the coffee table and flexing your swollen toes. “If not a tad demanding, it's hot out in the desert.” You chuckled, smirking.

Henry chuckled back at you. “Yeah, it definitely is that.” He agreed, raking a hand through his hair. “And relations aren’t great over there, from what I've heard either. So, it is a tad dangerous, but I do like how the character reads on the script.”

“Well, if they can keep you safe and you like the character, is there anything stopping you from taking it?” You asked, lifting an arm as Ghost came to lay his head on your lap.

“Nope.” He replied, shaking his head. “It doesn't start filming for about a month, and it'll take two or three to film. So, it shouldn't take too much to do.” He said, slowly licking his lips.

“Then, I say go for it.” You said, stroking between Ghost's ears.

“I think I will.” Henry grinned, relaxing against the headboard. “I come home soon.” He said softly, just in case you didn't hear him.

“Do you?” You replied, drawing lazy patterns in Ghost's fur.

“I do.” He answered a little bit louder, before pausing.

You looked down at Ghost and felt your stomach flutter, then felt a shy confidence wash over you. “I think Ghost wants to take Kal up on that Doggy Date.” You said, pressing your lips together and shaking your head, feeling so silly.

You just managed to ask Superman, himself, out.

Henry chuckled, bashfully, grinning like a schoolboy asked out to the dance. “Kal would love that.” He told you, his eyes flickering to the sleeping Bear at the foot of the bed. “We'll be back in a week. We can discuss a good time to meet up, whenever.” He suggested, excited about going out with you.

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed, letting out a soft breath.

Henry was starting to grow worried, and if he was honest, a bit paranoid. He had returned back to home three days ago, and up until then, you and him texted as usual, you had even spoken on the phone again several times. But the night before he returned, he told you good night, like always, but unlike always, you never replied back, you didn't even read his message.

He paced the mews, a million scenarios bubbling over in his mind.

“What if something's happened to her?” He said, ranting at Kal. “She typically walks to The Tube after she gets off work, what if she'd gotten mugged and she's in the hospital. Perhaps her phone's dead, but why the hell would her phone be dead for three days straight. That's ridiculous.”

A sick feeling washed over Henry and his shoulders slowly relaxed.

“Or she's ghosted me.” He sighed, face falling and stopping in place. “I suppose I can't blame her. Being a celebrity is a pain in the ass on a good day, but being associated with one is just as big a pain in the ass, or she sufficiently got me to relax with her enough and she'll be posting everything we talked about online.” He shook his head and slapped his hands against his thighs and began pacing again.

“No, she wouldn't do that! She's not like that, I just—I just feelit. There's something wrong, there must be something wrong. But...”

It suddenly punched Henry square in the brain what was wrong and he felt like a complete moron for not realizing it first, the two of you had never openly spoken about it, it was the quiet acknowledgment, the bombshell in your 'about me' that had almost cause Henry not to swipe up on you.

“I'm such a fucking idiot! Of course, she would be terrified about meeting me like this, talking and texting on the fucking phone is one thing, but meeting in person makes it real and concrete.” He rambled, scrambling to find his phone and dialed your number, half hoping you would answer it, but knew you probably wouldn't.

However, he prayed you would listen to his voicemail.

“Hey, I know I've been messaging you, and you're clearly not reading them, and I know you watched this call ring, and ignored it. But—God, I hope you listen to this.” He paused, licking his lips and carded a shaky hand through his curls, he was about to make a potentially life changing move. “I know why you're ghosting me, and I want you to know that I don't care. If I had cared, I would have never swiped up on you. But I did, because I saw something in you, I feel something with you. I don't know what the hell it is and I want to know what it is. If you would only give me a chance to.” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

“But I'm serious, when I tell you, that I don't care that you're pregnant.” He declared, his voice softening. “Another man's baby or not. I just want a chance to prove myself, and that, to you.” He said, his back straightening as he did.

“Please.”

#Henry Cavill #Swipe *Fic*#Viking-Raider Fics #Swipe #Henry Cavill Fics #Cotton Candy Fluff #Fluff #Angsty #Tinder Fic #long distance relationship #Henry Cavill Fandom #Henry Cavill Fanfic #Henry Cavill Fic #Henry Cavill/You #Henry Cavill/Reader #Henry Cavill & You #Henry Cavill & Reader

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hellomynameisbisexual · 3 years

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Andrew Ford was questioned and fetishized when he came out as bisexual. The gay community insisted he wasn’t being honest with himself; women at clubs started to excitedly fantasize about hooking up with two guys at the same time.

All the while, the soccer standout stayed true to himself. Ford came out his freshman year at Malone University, a small Christian liberal arts college in Canton, Ohio — home of the Pro Football Hall of Fame. His friends and teammates were accepting, which was an incredible relief. But his journey into the LGBTQ community was a little more rocky.

“I got a lot of pressure from the gay community,” Ford told me recently on the phone. “I felt like I was misunderstood, and didn’t know who I was.”

Ford is one of an increasing number of openly bisexual college-aged athletes whom we’ve profiled recently on Outsports. Despite some surveys showing more Americans identify as bisexual than either gay or lesbian, there is a dearth of bi visibility in pop culture and sports.

As bi sportswriter Jeff Rueter challenged me: “name a bisexual man, and don’t say Frank Ocean.”

These kick-ass kids are going to change that.

Biphobia is real

Let’s start here: Biphobia is real. It manifests itself in gestures as seemingly fleeting as dismissive jokes, and actions as harrowing as outright physical violence. Bisexual people typically suffer significantly higher rates of depression and anxiety, domestic violence, sexual assault, and poverty than lesbians, gay men, or straight cisgender people, according to the Human Rights Campaign.

A black-and-white society, most of us grow up with the notion people are either straight or gay. Those attitudes have historically prevailed in the LGBTQ community, too.

Alex Keuroghlian, the Director of the National LGBTQIA+ Health Education Center at the Fenway Institute, says bisexual people can be looked at skeptically.

“Within LGBTQIA+ communities, there has historically been a stigma toward bisexual people, and the false notion that they’re really gay and lesbian people who haven’t accepted that about themselves,” he said.

Megan Duthart, a rower at Washington State University who identifies as both bi and queer, has experienced the stigma first-hand. She says she thinks bisexual people are often excluded in the LGBTQ community.

“I’ve struggled a little bit with being identified as an ‘other’ in the community with the term ‘bisexuality,’” she said.

Why are bi people targeted for erasure?

More people are identifying as bisexual. Over three percent of U.S. adults say they’re bi, according to the 2018 General Social Survey. That’s three times the number as 2008.

And yet, bi people are still targeted for erasure. One of the ways it happens is through language. When people see same-sex couples, for example, they may be inclined to label them as “gay” or “lesbian,” without considering that one or both of the people could identity as bi.

While Americans’ attitudes about sexuality are evolving, many still adhere to more binary definitions of sexual orientation. A recent YouGov poll found 41 percent of American adults don’t think sexuality is a spectrum (conversely, 37 percent think it is).

As Ford puts it, bisexuality is stereotypically viewed as “the stepping stone stage.” That ties into one of the more insidious aspects of bi-erasure: the belief that it’s just a phase. It’s a line Ford recalls hearing many times, from both men and women.

“(Gay men) said, ‘I came out as bisexual first. It’s just a phase, you won’t be there long,’” Ford said. “I was also scared how women would think about it. They wanted to change me. Some of them wanted to use it as a thrill they were seeking.”

When professional hockey player Zach Sullivan came out as bi, his father told him it meant he was still making up his mind.

“I remember what my dad said when I told him,” Sullivan said. “‘Well, you aren’t all the way there. You haven’t really decided.’ I was like, ‘no, I know I’m attracted to both genders. I’m not halfway towards coming out as gay.’”

The bi burden

Every LGBTQ person can relate to the fear and anxiety of coming out. But for most of us, once we do it, it’s over.

That’s not the case for bi people.

“We have to keep coming out to our significant others, whether it’s a man or a woman,” Ford said. “If you’re gay and you start dating a gay, you’re not going to be like, ‘I have to tell you something: I’m gay.’ They’re going to be like, ‘no shit.’”

And once bi people do come out, they could get charged with being greedy — the sexual equivalent of having their cake and eating it, too. The insult angers Sullivan.

“The majority of people in the LGBT+ community have struggled with their sexuality, and when they finally become comfortable enough to come out in the open with their sexuality, I don’t think the first thing to say to someone who’s come out as bisexual is they’re greedy,” Sullivan said. “I took over 10 years to get to where I am.”

Duthart finds the concept of bisexuality can be difficult to explain. She largely identifies as queer.

“I’ve had coaches question whether I’m rebelling or going through a phase,” she said. “Then when I explain the whole queer aspect, they’re like, ‘Oh, OK. That seems more justified.’ I don’t want to have to justify those things, but I sort of have to.”

Changing attitudes

Jack Storrs came out as bisexual last year as a college football captain. His teammates at Pomona-Pitzer rallied around him, and wore Pride decals on their helmets.

But even some who were supportive suggested he was on his way to identifying as gay. Storrs said he couldn’t hide his feelings for men anymore, and came out because he wanted to explore.

Maybe he was gay, maybe he wasn’t. The questions didn't bother him. He was a relieved to have the dialogue.

“It was killing me on the inside,” Storrs said. “It got to the point where I was like, ‘screw it.’ This is who I am, and this was meant to be.”

Nowadays, Storrs says he’s more towards the “gay end of the spectrum,” and expects the fluidity to continue.

He’s cool with that, and numbers show his peers are, too. Generation Z is among the most progressive and diverse in U.S. history. A 2018 study from Ipsos Mori shows only 66 percent of young people today identify exclusively as heterosexual.

Young people have a better understanding of how sexuality can evolve, says Keuroghlian.

“There’s been less of a reflex to box people in, and categorize people in ways that could be static,” he said. “A key part of all of this is not projecting behavior or projecting attraction. People tell us — they self-identify that’s who they are. And we have to honor that.”

Visibility challenges misperceptions

But to get back to Rueter’s question: can you name a famous out bisexual person besides Frank Ocean?

It’s challenging, and the lack of bi visibility may be one of the biggest contributors towards bi-erasure. But that is changing. Each person who comes out as bisexual has the ability to change perceptions within their own communities — and many young athletes are.

Bri Tollie, a bisexual college basketball player at Southern Methodist University, wrote in her coming-out story she refuses to conform.

“It is important to be visible because everyone is unique,” she wrote. “Our uniqueness means no one should not have to give up a part of themselves to conform. It is called self-respect.”

Growing up, Storrs tried to shut off his attraction to guys. He told himself it wasn’t a big deal, but the angst became all-encompassing.

Storrs is done hiding any part of himself. He did that for far too long, and is now out for all to see.

“I am bisexual, and my point is, I don’t really give a shit what anybody else thinks,” Storrs said. “This is who I am, and I don’t have to figure it out, but the reason I’m coming out is to figure it out, or at least get to a point where I’m comfortable.”

With their stories, these young bi athletes are making it more comfortable for bi people every single day.

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izzielizzie · 3 years

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Idk if you talk about tv shows much but I’d love your thoughts on the Saved By the Bell reboot, especially parallels between new characters and the old ones and where you think they’re going with romance

i love talking about shows!!!

old vs new group

Zack and Mac

If the names and incredibly accurate casting wasn't enough, their knack for getting themselves into trouble, setting up elaborate pranks, and falling fast and hard for random girls should be a really good indicator of the parallel. But, one thing that should be mentioned: there is a little bit of Kelly in Mac too, which makes him a little more endearing that Zack (who really is trash). Mac is a lot more family oriented than Zack was, and Kelly, being in a family of seven kids, understands the importance of good familial relationships, and we see Mac wanting to be closer to his father. He does all of this stuff just because he wants his father to see him for once. And that is all Kelly.

Lisa and Lexi

I mean this one is kind of obvious: obsessed with fashion and relationships. They're both popular and give good advice. But I think the biggest difference between them is that Lexi's intentions are purely selfish while Lisa generally did what was best for her friends. It's interesting how they get into similar scrapes, but there's the very clear difference in how they happen and what the results are. Lisa, who spent a ton of her father's money and then worked to pay it back, even though her friends offered her money, ended up happy while learning a lesson. But when Lexi tries to get Jamie to date her or tries to win the role of president, she gets out of her scrapes without learning anything. She's starting to learn and she's going to have a great arc, but Lisa was - mostly - selfless from the first episode.

Jessie and Daisy

Again, another very obvious comparison. Jessie was the overachieving class president who was best friends with the popular prankster. And, per Mac's proclamation in the second episode, Daisy is Mac's best friend. But what sets Jessie and Daisy apart is that Jessie was super vocal about everything she believed in, and was willing to upset people she cared about even if it hurt her (think of her will-they-won't-they with Slater where she accused him of being a sexist pig every other second). And Daisy is just as vocal, but she has an inherent understanding of when to step back and let other people figure things out. Like when she says that if she wants to do anything at Bayside, she had to stop trying to fix one guy. Jessie didn't take that route with Slater.

Kelly and Jamie

For all of their other incredible qualities, Kelly and Jamie were reduced to the good looking airheads of the group. Kelly was the object of many boys' affection, and Jamie is just as liked by the girls at Bayside. But they're also both insanely kind and willing to help their friends. Jamie was the only one from the Bayside trio to be genuinely saddened about the kids having to go back to Douglas because, like Kelly, he never really has ulterior motives. He's kind of just... misguided.

Slater and DeVante

I know that the show explored this parallel from the very beginning of the show with the whole football thing, but their similarities extend farther. Slater was lonely and a little jaded when he arrived at Bayside because he had been in fourteen schools due to his father being stationed in a lot of different places. His only friend was his chameleon that he was really attached to. And he used his insecurities to look tough and join different teams to create his own family, knowing very well that he may have to leave. And DeVante has a really hard home life, and he's had some past misdemeanor issues, but like Slater, he wants to change how people view him while also trying to become happier. Maybe he isn't ready for a family like group of friends, but he's trying.

Screech and Aisha

Screech got the short end of the stick a lot, but he was an incredibly kind and helpful person - he got Lisa out of a lot of scrapes even though she never showed any interest or kindness in return - but most importantly: he was unapologetically himself. He flaunted his ant farm and his interesting abilities, no matter how much Zack teased him. And Aisha is the same way. She wanted to play football without a helmet just so people would know they were losing to her. And she's kind too. She lends a shoulder to Daisy constantly, and she's respectful towards Lexi even though she kind of admitted to sabotaging Jamie and Aisha's relationship.

Romances

the triangle

The Aisha, Lexi, and Jamie love triangle is reminiscent to the Slater, Zack, and Kelly triangle, where two people are fighting for the affections of a third person that’s rather oblivious. Saved By the Bell is a big fan of the “best friends to lovers” trope, so Lexi and Jamie might be the most obvious choice for long term couple, but - and hear me out here - I think the ultimate couple will be Aisha and Jamie. Jamie is less prejudiced out of the three original Bayside kids, but he’s a little confused, especially because his mother shields him from so much. If the show can do it right, with Aisha’s prompting, Jamie can have an amazing arc where he steps away from his mother and other people that have controlled his life (like Lexi), learning that he’s enough as his own person, and Jessie can learn that her son will be okay on his own.

And Jamie can teach Aisha how to accept her feelings, especially since she admitted that she’s not the best at talking about/understanding her feelings.

Slater and Jessie

Ah yes, my personal favorite. Especially since Jessie stood up to Rene, it’s highly likely that Kelly will be sowing the seeds of the old relationship in the second season, and we go back to our regularly scheduled programing

also - can you guys tell I adore Jamie yet? - it would be great for Jamie to have a positive father figure, something he doesn’t have since Jessie did most of the raising.

Mac and Daisy

I know their actors were surprised by this pairing, but Mac and Daisy are perfect. Before Slater asked Jessie to the prom, I shipped Jessie and Zack so hard because they had chemistry and they were friends. Mac and Daisy have the chemistry - and have had it since day one - but also they’re best friends who build each other up and learn from each other. The also appreciate and value each other. Mac tried to teach Daisy how to be rich to get what he wanted, but ultimately he pushed everyone to help her since he knew that she was doing the right thing. And Daisy accused him of not being able to do anything, but she apologizes because she understands that Mac is still working out his issues and most importantly - he’s trying.

And I know this part is self-fulfilling because I’m Latina, but I really want Mac learning about Daisy’s culture and understanding where she’s coming from. Also: Mac interacting with Daisy’s brother would be perfect.

#zack morris #mac morris #lisa turtle #lexi haddad-defabrizio #jessie spano #daisy jiménez #kelly kapowski #jamie spano #ac slater #devante young #screech powers #aisha garcia #saved by the bell #saved by the bell reboot

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harryissuchalittleshit · 3 years

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Connecting Flights

For @trainingprompttuesday and @petalstosarah happy Tuesday, I loved this prompt (obviously I wrote so much), I feel like this just made the best meet cute for Hermione and Ron!

Can also read on Ao3

Hermione cursed as she tried to fit her suitcase into the overhead bin of the airplane. She had just ran all the way across the airport in twenty minutes to get to her next flight, it would the last time she ever got on back to back flights like this.

Part of her was excited, she had been ready to come home a few weeks after leaving cold and dreary London for her abroad course in Australia. A whole year away from everything she had known, studying law and researching their political landscape. It had been interesting to say the least, but she missed her family and her friends, she missed her favorite coffee shop and flirting with the cute barista. Hell, she even missed her roommates coming home drunk in the middle of the night and playing their music as loud as they thought they could get away with.

She missed her own little part of London that was her home.

Hermione walked down the length of the plane, looking for her seat while also trying not to hit anyone with her laptop bag and purse. She wished that she had gone home for Christmas, she’d had the two weeks off while the government was closed, but had decided to stay away because part of her knew that she wouldn’t go back if she came home early.

She fell down into her seat with a small sigh, she had known that wearing flip-flops was a bad idea, but it had helped her get through TSA so quickly and all her other shoes were heels. Her flip-flops had seen better days, she had only packed them on a whim as she never had much used for them in England, but she had worn them every day in Australia, even if it was just so she didn’t have to wear her heels around the office.

Her officemates had joked about knowing wherever she was by the slip-slap of her shoes, much better than the click-clack of everyone else. It was a story that Hermione knew for a fact that her friend Harry would think was hilarious. He and his fiancée, Ginny, were picking Hermione up from the airport when she finally landed, apparently Ginny’s brother was flying in from a connection in Athens’s too.

Hermione listened carefully to the safety briefing by the flight attendants before they took off. She was exhausted, she had barely slept on her first plane ride that morning, and being up in the air again just made her feel even more exhausted.

She had just taken out her laptop and put in her earphones when the man in the seat next to her stood up.

“’cuse me.”

Hermione sighed and let him pass through, briefly taking note of him. He was incredibly tall, with short red hair, pale and freckly skin, and Hermione couldn’t help but peak over her shoulder to stare at his arse as he walked down the plane to the bathrooms.

In the dark reflection of her laptop screen, Hermione quickly took in the bags under her eyes and the lack of makeup on her dark skin. Her skin was clear for once, and she found some lipstick in her purse along with an old eyeliner pencil. Her hair was nearly unmanageable on a good day, but Hermione found a hairband and quickly put it on as the seatbelt sign came on again.

“Everyone please return to your seat, we are experiencing some turbulence as we move through a storm system.”

“Oof, I’m so sorry.”

Hermione stared at the man, all six foot something of him that fell into her lap as the plane suddenly shook. Hermione felt her face grow warm, as he quickly scrambled to his feet and got into his own seat.

“I’m Hermione, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Ron Weasley, I’m sorry I fell on top of you.”

~Two Hours Later~

Hermione smiled to herself as she picked up her second suitcase from baggage claim, she had three missed calls from Harry, but it was worth it as she got to flirt a little bit more with Ron. He was coming home as his little sister and childhood best friend were getting married and he was to be part of the wedding party. He had also been abroad for university, but the details had been hard to get out of him. Ron had been so much more interested in Hermione’s work, only giving a few small details to his own life and family.

On several different parts of their journey they had accidentally held hands, and on the last bit of turbulence Hermione hadn’t let go until they had finally landed. Ron, being the gentleman that he was, had even helped her get her suitcase down from the overhead bin and walked her to baggage claim.

“I just got my bags Harry,” Hermione hissed into her phone as she walked out to the pickup area. “Oh I see you!”

Hermione felt herself smile as she ran over to the small dark car and her best friend from uni. She had met Harry at Freshman orientation, they had several classes together and just clicked. They had survived parties, midterms, football tryouts (for Harry), trivia team tryouts (for Hermione), horrible first dates, and even embarrassing family visits (the most memorable one being Harry’s uncles caught together in one of the bathrooms). They had been there for each other through all of the good and the bad, and Hermione had been proud of Harry when they graduated, even as he went on to work in sports marketing and Hermione went on to law school.

Six years later, they were still best friends, they still talked everyday even if it was just through text messages and emails, and Hermione was to be in the wedding party when he got married to Ginny. Hermione was excited to say the least, and coming back to London now couldn’t have been better timing.

“Hey there Granger,” said Harry as he held his arms out to her, Hermione rolled her eyes and hugged him tightly. She couldn’t believe that she was home, that she was finally home with the people that she loved. “Missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” whispered Hermione, wiping at her eyes as Harry let go of her and picked up her suitcases.

“You’re going to love Ginny, and her brother Ron, they’re great,” said Harry as Hermione watched him carefully put her things in the boot of his car. “They’re already in the car.”

Hermione nodded, faintly aware that she was going to need to perform for the next few hours until she could finally go to sleep. She had to stay awake until at least eight, so she could adjust back into the time zone. But part of her had hoped that she could fall asleep in the back of the car, like the time Harry had taken her home to Godric’s Hallow for Easter holidays their second year of uni.

“Oh,” said Ron from the plane, as Hermione climbed into the back seat beside him. He looked a bit cramped in the tiny car, his long legs almost pressed to his chest. “It’s you again.”

Hermione felt herself blush, taking in the whole situation. Harry’s childhood best friend was Ron, and his little sister Ginny was Harry’s fiancée, and Hermione was Harry’s best friend from uni.

It felt almost like a set up.

“You two have met?” asked Ginny as she pulled out into traffic, Hermione just barely clipping herself into her seat belt.

“He fell on my lap on the plane ride here,” said Hermione, taking in the little she could see of Ginny, despite knowing what she looked like from the photos Harry had sent her. Hermione knew that they met because Ginny was one the players on one of the teams Harry worked for. They’re courtship had been renewed, they had dated for a very brief period in secondary, before breaking up when Harry moved to London for uni.

“Well it seemed to work as you asked me for my number,” said Ron, and Hermione felt herself smile as Harry turned around in his seat to stare at Hermione. She wasn’t known for being bold when it came to asking others out, the few relationships and dates that she had in uni had all been initiated by the person asking her out. She just never thought that far in the future, she wasn’t much of a romantic, at least not like Harry was.

“Wait,” said Ginny, looking at them in the rearview mirror, “you sat next to each other on the plane and you didn’t tell me Ron? We sat here and you didn’t even mention it?”

“I didn’t know that she was Granger,” said Ron, and Hermione felt him grab her hand as Ginny slammed on the breaks the light in front of them turned yellow. “Maybe if someone told me that her name was Hermione it would be different.”

Ginny let out a loud sigh and Hermione smiled to herself. Strangely enough, this felt like the time Harry had tried to set Hermione up with his roommate Neville. It hadn’t worked out, though Hermione and Neville were still great friends even now, he was even going to be part of the wedding party.

“Alright sure, my bad,” said Harry, but Hermione could hear the familiar cocky tone in his voice he got when he was too happy about something working out the way wanted it to. “Sorry Ron.”

“Thanks,” said Ron, squeezing Hermione’s hand softly and meeting her eyes in the backseat.

For some reason, Hermione couldn’t make herself feel upset at all. In fact, her return to London seemed like the absolute best thing in the world.

She didn’t even feel tired anymore.

~Two Years Later~

Hermione smiled in the mirror over her bathroom sink.

She looked the same as she had two years ago, at least for the most part. Her long curly dark hair was still as unmanageable as always, her dark brown eyes still had bags under them, her skin was surprisingly clear for once, and she wasn’t wearing much makeup. She was wearing her trusted flip-flops and a sundress, her engagement ring and wedding band glittered on her left hand, she was going to a baby shower today.

She was seven months along, her daughter was due in a little less than eight weeks, and she was excited to take this next step. Everything had been easy in the last two years, she and Ron had just clicked.

There was no awkward phase after he had fallen into her lap on the plane ride that took them home. Dating had come easy, especially as they both were staying with Harry and Ginny until they got on their feet again. Moving in together had just happened, both of them deciding that they mind as well because they were dating and getting two flats just seemed stupid when they only wanted to spend time together.

Ron had proposed six months after they had met, and even though Hermione knew it was insane, she said yes.

It was so strange and out of character for her, she wasn’t one who didn’t think things through. But Ron made it easy, he was funny and smart and charming, he looked at her as if she was both the sun and the moon, he never tried to sell himself to Hermione, he was just himself and that was enough. He was caring and kind and made her smile on bad days and made her giggle until she was peeing herself on good days, he brought her lunch almost every day and made them dinner most nights. And he never got upset when she had to stay late in the office for work.

He loved her and that was enough, it would always be enough.

He got along with her parents, and Hermione felt like a Weasley after meeting the whole family at Harry and Ginny’s rehearsal dinner. She didn’t have any siblings, Harry being the closest thing to a sibling to her, but now she had five older brothers and one little sister in Ron’s siblings, not including their spouses.

Getting married to Ron had been easy, they got married in her family’s church and had the reception at Ron’s parent’s house. It had been everything she could’ve ever wanted, and in just eight weeks she would have her and Ron’s first baby.

“’Mione,” said Ron, appearing in the bathroom doorway, his red hair longer than she had ever seen it, but his warm smile the same as the day they had met. “We have to go before we miss the whole thing.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and rubbed her stomach as their daughter kicked her. They had decided on the name Roslyn Eleanora, or Rose for short after Hermione’s grandmother on her mother’s side. They were going to name their baby Hugo Charles after Ron’s favorite brother if they were having a boy, but Hermione reminded Ron that this wouldn’t be their last baby.

“We’ve been late to more important things than a baby shower Ron.”

“And Harry and Ginny still hold their wedding and James’ christening over our heads, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled and reached for Ron’s hand, placing it on her stomach before leaning forward and kissing him softly. She had never been happier to have a stranger fall into lap.

Though, of course, she never imagined that she would’ve married him fifteen months later.

#hermione granger #ron weasley #harry potter #ginny weasley #my fics #training prompt tuesday #this was so much fun #I wrote this instead of sleeping last night

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natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

Queen live at Bingley Hall in Stafford, UK - May 6, 1978 (Part -2)

Photos were taken by Anthony Mallan.

Fan Stories

“As I write this I can't believe it is over 24 years since my first ever Queen gig. I was 15 years old and had looked forward to this day ever since I had first heard Bohemian Rhapsody 3 years earlier. Before that song Queen had just been another pop/rock group but BoRhap was the song which for me would set them apart from all others, the song that began my addiction for this band's music - an addiction which continues to this day. I had an hour long bus ride to Stafford and then had to walk to the Bingley Hall which was about 2 miles out of town. I remember while walking a couple of stretched limos passed I couldn't see inside because the windows were blacked out but I knew that it was the members of Queen in those cars and that added to the excitement. I arrived at the venue and joined the queue to get in. I was quite early but there were still a few hundred people in front of me. I bought a Black T shirt with the News of The World robot on the front and the words Spring Tour '78 and a program, both of which I still have although the T shirt is well worn. I was also treated to a young lady a bit drunk I think, taking her T Shirt off and running around half naked, quite sensational for a 15 year old lad. We were let into the hall at about 7pm and I found myself fairly near the front it was all standing and I was quite small so I was pleased to see the stage was set quite high which meant I would have an excellent view. The stage set for this tour was the famous crown and as I looked in awe at its size. I can remember wondering how they would get it to lift off the stage? I can't remember the time but probably an hour or so after I had got into the hall the lights went out and a mechanical whining noise started this was followed very quickly by white lights from the stage, smoke and then the drum beat of We Will Rock You with the song breaking straight into the chorus. Suddenly on a platform in the middle of the front row of the crowd Brian May appeared playing the "Rock You" guitar riff. I remember the feeling of joy and awe, I am sure I must have pinched myself to make sure this was really happening. After an explosion they burst into the fast version of "Rock You" and I saw Freddie for the first time. He was wearing shiney leather trousers, jacket & cap and running around the stage like a madman. It's far too long ago for me to remember every detail of the show but I do remember Freddie toasting us with champagne and at the end of '39 Roger threw his tamborine into the crowd and I had it for a split second before dropping it, I stood no chance really. The songs which I remember most from this gig were the ones which after this tour they were never to play live again: "White Man" & "Prophets Song" both were played either side of Brian's guitar solo and I can clearly remember Freddie performing vocal gymnastics during the middle section of "Prophets Song". The concert ended with a Rock n Roll medley. I remember right at the end of God Save The Queen we all started singing "You'll Never Walk Alone", then the lights were on and it was over. In a lot of respects it seems so long ago but as I am thinking of it now, parts of it are as clear as yesterday.” - Kevin Ruscoe

“It was fun reading Kevin's story about going to see Queen at Stafford Bingley Hall in 1978. This was the first concert I had ever been to (talk about starting at the top). When the lights went down and Brian started with the dynamic We Will Rock You strumming, I was captured. A couple of years ealier I had purchased Night At The Opera for a girl I fancied at work. I took it to give her and before I could present her with it she showed me that she had just brought the album herself. So much for my Night At The Opera with her! So, I had to go home, take a cold shower, and listen to music. Because it was the only album I had, I played it and played it and I discovered a world I never knew existed. Music up to that point was something that was on the radio. That night seemed to open a new and exciting world me. Not as exciting as I had been planning with her but exciting none the less. My biggest memory of the Stafford concert was when Freddie gets us to sing along with him. Whenever I heard the Live Killers album, it would take me back to that moment at Stafford when I found out what I wanted to do with my life. I write now, plays and musicals, some successful, some not. Thanks Queen for my reason to live.” - Robert

“Memory's a funny thing... and I wish to heck that I had a better one. How come I can remember useless things I don't want to know, like the winner of the first Big Brother programme, but can't remember stuff which would be far more useful... like how to order beer in any language, my bank account number... or the exact setlist of my first ever rock concert, Queen at Stafford's Bingley Hall in May 1978? Sitting down to type up this review I did a quick search on the net but only came up with a partial setlist which ends about two thirds of the way through. Very frustrating. So really this isn't a review, it can't be, but it's more a hazy recollection of just what it felt like to be a 15-year-old boy at his very first rock show. First off I remember getting the ticket. "Harvey Goldsmith presents A Night With Queen" printed in green (tickets for the Sunday night gig were printed in blue) and the price, L3.50 - laughably cheap now. I can't remember how long it was before the gig that I got the ticket but I do know that the waiting for the day of the gig was unbearable. But eventually that day arrived. Another reason it sticks in my mind is that it was the day of the FA Cup final (Arsenal beat Ipswich Town) and it was the first time I'd not sat glued to the TV from 12pm for all the build-up and the big match itself. If it had been my team, Manchester City, it might have been a different story, but I went up to Bingley Hall mid-afternoon, with a friend called Mark Butters, to join the queue and get as good a standing spot as possible. For those of you who don't know, Bingley Hall is a 10,000-plus capacity shed (a giant cowshed, really), at the County Showground just outside Stafford, and owned by the Staffordshire Agricultural Society. Before the NEC and other purpose-built venues came along, gigs at this venue (which on other occasions were filled with agricultural displays or animal pens) were a big deal, on a par with Wembley Arena and the like. Others to have played there include Abba, Black Sabbath, Genesis, Thin Lizzy, Saxon, Yes and Rush. I remember my Mum being worried sick about me going to the gig. Worried about the size of the crowd. Worried about the music volume. Worried about drugs. She was particularly worried that I was wearing a Thin Lizzy badge on my denim jacket and might get beaten up by some aggressive Queen fan who took exception to any other band. I had to persuade her that rock fans were not quite so tribal as football fans. I also remember standing fairly close to the glass-fronted doors in the queue and the physical, painful ache of anticipation. What came next is a blur - the doors finally being opened, the crush as we made our way through and our tickets were examined, the further crush by the merchandise stall (I got myself a big, square programme, which I've still got). Then I made my way into the crowd, jockeying for a position as near to the front as possible. The gig was all-standing and as showtime got closer the build-up of pressure was astonishing. I was pretty central, but there was constant swaying from left to right, if you lifted your legs you wouldn't fall, just be carried along with this sea of rock fans. Finally the wait is over (yes, I know I've changed tense, it just suits my recollections better). The lights go down. The roar of the crowd is unbelievably loud. But what comes next is even louder. As we strain to see what's going on the air is filled with a mechanical sound, the giant lighting rig (Queen's famed crown set-up) is lifting into the air in a sea of smoke. We Will Rock You explodes into the air. It's all light and smoke and noise... and suddenly there's Brian May, playing that guitar, just feet away from me. The spotlights fall on John Deacon and Roger Taylor behind his gigantic drumkit. Just one thing left now. Freddie. And he appears out of nowhere, Freddie Mercury, prancing and preening around the stage, soaking up the adulation, singing his guts out, clad in shiny black PVC. Call me innocent or naive, but back then I didn't really know about the whole gay/camp fetish thing... he just looked like the superstar he was. For the next two hours or so I am transported to a whole new place. We get the rockers (Brighton Rock, We Are The Champions, Now I'm Here, a pre-release It's Late, I'm In Love With My Car), the pop-orientated stuff (Killer Queen, Spread Your Wings, Somebody To Love, You're My Best Friend) and a superb acoustic section, featuring Love Of My Life and its amazing crowd singalong and '39, during which a string breaks on Brian May's guitar but he carries on regardless, note perfect to my ears. Oh, and we get Bohemian Rhapsody too. It's still only a couple of years old at this point, and although obviously something incredibly special is still making it's way up the ladder to immortality to stand alongside the likes of Stairway To Heaven. Anyway, it's bloody brilliant. Queen leave the stage for the opera section, enabling them to make another grand entrance in lights, smoke and pyrotechnics for the rock-out - a masterstroke! According to Kevin Ruscoe's review of this gig at the superb www.queenconcerts.com site we also got White Man and The Prophet's Song, but I have no recollection of that at all. Nonetheless it still sticks in my mind as one of the greatest gigs I have even seen over the past 28 years, and as one of the greatest events of my life. Like Kevin, I remember singing You'll Never Walk Alone at the end of God Save The Queen, a football terrace salute to a rock phenomenon. What a night!” - Ian Harvey (April 28, 2006)

Part-1

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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cowboyx2 · 3 years

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my take on the cm characters sexual orientations and their journey :’)

Jennifer Jareau:

i view her as bisexual, an icon if you will.. no no but really, i do! with all the scenes with laggy taine i really think she likes him, they have chemistry and if i MUST admit they’re pretty cute together. obviously i also think she has MAJOR chemistry with emily, all the looks, smiles, subtle touches, hand holding under the table, it just makes sense for them to have feelings for one another!

background:

JJ grew up in a small town (in PA i think??) with only what i can assume is a conservative family.

after rosalyn died her parents started fighting more and she sort of slipped away into that background. with all that at home middle school was TOUGH!!

she was always told only boys and girls kiss, not girls and girls or boys and boys and that was final. she didn’t really understand why but she wasn’t one to challenge authority

it wasn’t until the end of 7th grade that she realized she was “different”. one of her friends from school, jessica (yes i’m naming her, leave me alone) had invited her to her house for a sleepover.

after they had hung out for awhile they started to gossip like any 13 year old girls. jessica was worried that she wouldn’t be a good kisser and if she wasn’t then she couldn’t ask out brad. so like any logical reasoning they (jessica did..) decided they HAD to practice

they both agreed it was awkward and weird but jj couldn’t stop thinking abt it even after jessica was long asleep

she spent the entirety of 8th grade trying to forget what had happened. if she kept busy than she couldn’t think abt it..

jj’s high school years were much “better” then middle school. she had a new found popularity with being on the varsity soccer team and being a pretty blonde. with popularity came boys and cute one at that

she liked them and they liked her so why should she worry about that cute girl in her chem class? it wasn’t that she didn’t like the guys because she most definitely did, it was that they were certain girls in her school that she just REALLY wanted to be friends with. yeah, just friends

even if she got distracted by laura’s cute skirt and updo she also was happily with one of the football guys. if really like him then she couldn’t of had feelings for a girl, right??

then and now:

once jj had joined the bau she had figured out that she does indeed like girls AND guys. though she did NOT know there was a word for it

she ended up learning a lot from elle an out queer women. (fyi i hc elle as queer aro) besides elle being her gay mentor jj also had a very big crush on her

elle taught her all about the label bisexual among many that she explained, that’s when it all just clicked. jj had her first queer friend and a label she can use for herself!! all of elle’s advice and information did not stop jj’s little crush

they hooked up like twice

after greenaway left it was difficult, she didn’t have anyone to talk to abt her sexuality or questions. until spencer ended up accidentally coming out to jj, it was very awkward but it smoothed over once jj let him that she was bi. then penelope joined in on the fun with her just running into the bau with a pan flag in her hands

the 3 of them grew closer together, talking about crushes and whatnot. spencer and pen couldn’t answer every single question she had but for the most part they could answer the pressing ones

when emily joined the team it was an immediate wake up call. she new she liked elle a lot but this was different, once she saw her she could not get her out of her head. they hadn’t even spoke yet there was jennifer john jareau absently daydreaming abt women she barely knew

once they met it was set in stone, she HAD to marry this women, and she would’ve right there and then. but of course “jj, you can’t just ask for her hand in marriage! you don’t even know what her favorite color is” right yeah make her fall in love then get married

the more and more they hung out the more she tried to push the idea to the back of her head.

then she met will and he was nice, sweet, and cute, it only made sense to go out. and boy was she glad she did, he was nothing less than a gentleman

my canon now, bitch:

all good things have to end though, years into their relationship with 2 adorable munchkins em kisses her. yes she knew she’s gay but the kiss was a SURPRISE to say the least. before she knew it she was having a long talk with will and emily.

after that it was a rush, she moved in with emily a year after the split with will. the kids love her and she’s an openly happy bi women. jj not even once regretted will he made her happy, they were so so so happy, she was in love but love dosent always last forever.

#dw i’m doin all of em #so GET FUCKED #ITS MY CANON NOW #yes her middle name is john #jennifer john jareau #jennifer jareau #cm #emily prentiss #spencer reid #penelope garcia #elle greenaway #will laggy taine #will lamontagne #jemily #cm hc

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 3 years

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You messed with my heart too long

A/N: I posted this anonymously on ao3, but I’m really proud of writing this so decided to post it on here as well. Please, please let me know what you think, it would mean the world to me.

Summary: When Richie accidentally burns his food right at the same time as Eddie arrives home, he fears he's in for a verbal beat down. He's used to that thank to his ex-boyfriend, who mentally and emotionally abused him before Richie realized what he was doing to him. Once Eddie works out what is happening, he is quick to assure Richie he would never treat him in the same manner.

Warnings!: mental abuse, mentions of physical abuse and Bev’s abusive ex, Richie thinks Eddie going to react badly (he doesn’t but he still thinks about it)

read on AO3

Richie, in all fairness, has never had any confidence in any way, shape or form. He’s not sure why that is. His mom and dad were good, loving parents that indulged into his secret little hobby’s, and when Richie at age 24, a fresh college drop-out, told his parents he was going to take a gamble and try to make it as a comedian, they supported him wholeheartedly. Of course, they were a little disappointed that he never got a degree in case things in the comedy field didn’t work out, but they were convinced of Richie’s talent. They were truly the best parents anyone could ever wish for, at least in Richie’s mind.

The losers were also nothing if not supportive towards him, though they had been long gone before Richie turned 24. They made fun of him sometimes, on the occasions where a joke ran too far or failed miserably, but they also made sure that Richie knew how much they adored him in reality.

Beside from getting scolded at every now and again by Eddie or Stan, about his hygiene or lack of self-awareness, they also never tried to change him to fit their wants. For some unknown, nonsensical reason, they liked Richie with his flaws and all.

Truly, Richie has no inkling as to where his insecurities came from, but he does know that he never let them stop him from doing anything when he was still friends with the losers. Quite the opposite even, if he got nervous about performing in front of his class, he would loudly ask to go first, laughing boisterously and slouching against the teachers desks, pretending like the activity wasn’t even a blip on his radar. When Henry’s taunt would hit a particular soft spot, and Richie felt the urge to sulk or mope, he’d double down on the thing Henry found annoying, and get a bloody nose for his troubles.

He fought hard to be ready to perform in front of people that weren’t the losers or his parents, and the losers departing from Derry just made that worse. With the losers, he felt confident enough to try and be himself, without them, he saw himself as useless in every sense. His very first live performance sucked, and in retrospect he’s really glad none of the losers were present because within five minutes of walking on the stage, he had forgotten his lines and threw up in full sight of the audience.

If his mother hadn’t persuaded him into trying again a few months later, and that one actually working out, Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier would have been buried before it began.

But that was before all the progress Richie made in all the years he’s been doing comedy. Despite having the occasional setback, he mostly outgrew throwing up before an act, and he could objectively look at himself in the mirror and conclude that he wasn’t the most hideous person the world had ever had the displeasure of seeing.

In fact, according to people on his twitter page, he was being described as hot and possessing a form of appeal that drew people in. He didn’t find himself good looking by any means, but there was a huge difference between hating everything about himself, and accepting that he was not as hideous as the beast from the Disney fairy tales he was a big fan of as a kid.

And then, in the prime of his mental health, he had met David, and every ounce of self-worth faltered like snow under the burning scorch of the sun. It only took five weeks for David to absolutely destroy the very thing Richie had toiled at for over twenty years.

David was his first boyfriend, who he met just shortly before his thirtieth birthday, and he took more than advantage of that. The first night they first laid eyes on each other, after one of Richie’s shows, David had walked up to him at a bar and promptly declared his show was absolute shit.

Normally Richie would feel hurt by these comments and would pretend to brush them off as if they were never uttered, but something about the way he said it caused Richie to laugh so hard he snorted part of his beer through his nose. It wasn’t until he saw Eddie with Bill and Mike at Jade the Orient ten years later, that his quarter fell. In the beginning, David had reminded him of Eddie. It wasn’t until much later that it became clear David’s intentions were not as innocents as Eddie’s.

Richie assumed the guy was pulling his pants, because who would dedicate their time to flat out insult someone they had never met, and so he had greeted him and bought him another beer. David wasn’t particularly funny, and he never laughed at Richie’s jokes throughout the night either, but he was very eloquent and could keep up with Richie’s conversation topics, though he always seemed to be able to turn and twist the subject so that it gave away another one of his qualities.

By the end of the night Richie never expected to hear from him again, and he was okay with that. His conversation partner had been interesting, but not to the point where Richie wanted to know everything about him or see him again.

David felt otherwise, as thanks to a mutual friend of theirs, he’d found Richie’s number, and when he texted him to ask him on a date, Richie had been too thrilled that someone was interested in him to containplat if he even wanted to go.

That same day the date took place, David had granted himself the title of boyfriend, and Richie went right along with him. They never officially verbally agreed to date, but they held hands and David slept over most nights then not, and his mother got so happy that she saw him with someone that things progressed naturally.

At first, Richie didn’t notice that David was influencing him in a negative way. He only had one close friend, Steve, who was simultaneously also his manager, and he constantly praised David for making Richie a changed man. Because Steve saw it as something positive, so did Richie.

His voice got progressively stiller, as David would ream at him multiple times a day that he was annoying everyone around them with his booming voice, and that he was an attention-seeker who would do anything to get the limelight on him. Richie practiced his voices less and less when David started to critic every aspect of them every time he would overhear him. It got worse once they started living together full time.

‘Hey Rich, no voices? Come on I want to know if you’ve improved over the years, let us hear it.’

He cut off all fatty foods when David glanced at his plate and grimaced, asking if he was really going to eat everything on the plate. He didn’t say it in so many words, but Richie could connect the dots that led him to believe David found him too fat. Lying became a sort of second nature to Richie, as he dared to eat a small pack of chips when David was away, and deluded him the next day by stating he hadn’t eaten any. Sometimes, at times where David thought Richie was away, he would observe him going through their trash to catch Richie in the lie. He’d fight tooth and nail to deny the accusation, and never admitted to it.

David complained just about everything Richie did, including the way he held his towel whilst drying the dishes, ‘For god sake Richie don’t rumple up, hold it in your palm and open it up so you can get to the surface more.’ When Richie tried to joke that David’s way didn’t necessarily mean the best way, he’d yelled that Richie was an ungrateful bastard and that if he had to do it his way because the way he was doing it was useless.

Useless, that was a word Richie learned to associate with himself as whatever he did would get dragged down by David, until there was barely any Richie left. Once again Richie began getting stage fright, worse than when he was a child, and on one evening David witnessed his total bomb of a show, and told Richie he had pretended he didn’t know him to the people watching. That hit so hard, the fact that someone was disgusted to be linked to him, that he stopped writing his own comedy and hired someone to do it for him.

There was so much negativity surrounding him and David, but when Richie tried to address his problems, David would make him seem like he was the one that was crazy. Like he was seeing things that were not there. David rolled his eyes and waved off any of Richie’s attempts to defend himself, but then denied doing it after the fact.

‘You’re a loser Richie, I can’t believe you’d be so stupid to take my ribs seriously. Aren’t you supposed to be a ‘comedian’? You’d think you’d know what’s a joke and what isn’t.’

A can of coke being set down too hard on their dinner table was enough to get David off of the couch, where he’d been watching football and ordering him around, and into the kitchen, striking a tirade that Richie was ruining their furniture with his fumbling. Richie was constantly on edge that he was doing something wrong - and he was according to David -. He avoided David as much as he could, but the latter would find something to fault him on regardless. Life had transformed into a prison cell.

Later Richie would scold himself for not leaving, but how could he? David manipulated him to the point Richie truly believed he was doing all of those things wrong, to the point where he was the one crying and begging for David’s forgiveness. He was gaslighted, manipulated and blackmailed at the same time, with gifts that weren’t a one-off after Dacid crossed a line too far, and they often contained a very expensive item that Richie had eagerly awaited for a long time. Richie felt like he owed it to David to stay, if only for all the money he had spent on him.

There were days Richie would get so furious he was prepared to scream back at David, to let his anger be set free and unleashed upon the one person who deserved it, but then David would show up with a gift out of the blue, or would grant him a loving caress, and Richie was gone for him again.

Not to mention that Richie’s self-esteem had sunk so low, he wasn’t ready to face a world without having David there to guide him along with things.

Barely five months before Mike’s earth shattering phone call, Richie ran out of all mental capacity to deal with the torment a moment longer, and packed his things, disappearing on a cold blistering night. David called him, of course, but Richie was a coward, and never answered the phone.

He only sent David one text to tell him it was over, and then promptly blocked his number without waiting for a response. He heard from gossip that David spread lies about him, and told other people about how much of a terrible boyfriend he had been, but Richie never objected to the claims. He agreed with him anyway.

Mike’s call had been, for a large proportion anyway, a saving grace. Reconnecting with his best friends and destroying the thing that loomed over him for so long was liberating, and Richie viciously wished that Pennywise had come back sooner, so that his tortures road would have been that much shorter.

There was no lingering bitterness inside of Richie because of this though, not when his life was finally in the best possible place it could be. Eddie and him got their heads out of their asses, or more like Eddie got out of his and decided to yet again be the brave one out of the two of them, and they started dating almost immediately after defeating Pennywise. In only a week's time, Eddie made the move from New York to Los Angeles, and with him he had brought the happiness Richie had long forgotten he could ever possess.

His marriage with Myra had been just as much a scam as the relationship between Richie and David, and his divorce was swift - no surprise there with the way Eddie always prepared for every possible scenario-, but Eddie almost always avoided talking about it. In a way, Richie was disheartened by that.

It was no secret Eddie married a woman that was basically a mirror image of his mom, and at times Richie caught himself wondering if Eddie had realized how smothering she was or if he had been so hunkering for the normality of life as a straight, married man that he never paid her enough attention too. He wonders if he was the only one stupid enough to not realize the gravity of what was happening to him.

Richie has debated on flat out asking Eddie about it, but, and there’s always a but, that would mean he would have to tell Eddie about David, and he is overcome with a rare form of anxiety, something deeply ashamed nestling in the place where his trust is supposed to be at the mere idea.

Swearing on the holy turtle god that managed to save them from Pennywise’s claws, Richie was originally planning on confessing the whole thing to Eddie on day one of their relationship. He truly was, and he had even conjured up humorous escape alternatives to duck his way under a fire load of questions Eddie was surely about to ask him after.

He even prepared himself to tell Eddie in Derry, right after overhearing Eddie’s phone call to his wife, feeling empowered that Eddie would come to understand. Bev interrupted before he could, perhaps a blessing in disguise. Before Eddie fully put down his phone, Bev had sweeped in the room, requesting a meeting downstairs to talk. Richie had been helpless to follow and listen intently, and if he was being honest with himself – he wasn’t – he felt a tiny bit of relief that he wouldn’t be subjected to any negative attention. Until Bev started to confess how her life had been before Mike called them.

All at once, a sickening hatred from himself overwhelmed Richie. He was so angry that he had dared to feel sorry about himself, and here Bev was, with a situation that was incomparably worse. The more details Bev entrusted them with – Richie may have promised to never kill anyone again, but he an exception could be made - the more Richie’s food from a few hours before threatened to choke him, and not even Eddie’s cream smoothed hand holding his distracted him.

Near the end, after they’d progressed from such an melancholically topic and began drinking away the booze in their hotel, Richie had drawn Bev’s attention with a call of her name, to either make her smile or to assure her that she wasn’t alone, Stan send him a withering look, as if to warn him not to open his mouth. Stan’s assumption was fair, it was in Richie’s nature to find humor in places there shouldn’t be, and he had no idea about Richie’s past to think otherwise. Still, every time Richie considered telling Eddie, the look flashed in his mind and sewed his mouth shut.

Not telling Eddie hasn’t impacted things the way Richie had predicted it would. Really, Richie was doing fine. Eddie chastised Richie on certain things, but Richie didn’t freak out or experience any sort of flashback. He would be given a peck on his forehead, or a hand running through his hair, and he’d know that Eddie was never mad at him. It was the littlest details that had Richie out of his mind with love, that highlighted just how different Eddie and David were.

By now, Richie had decided he was fine with not telling Eddie anything about David, and the extra weight of keeping something a secret was his boyfriend was just another fee to carry around with him. But life always throws a curveball Richie Tozier’s way when he has finally made plans.

This curve ball comes in the form of soup. A horrendous chicken soup that Eddie cooked up two days in advance, an experiment of different herbs that clashed into a symphony of flavors all competing to be the primary flavor. There are two things to know about Eddie as a cook. Number one is that he is not an impressive cook – and it’s not for the lack of trying - but Richie doesn’t mind. Eating food that doesn’t please his taste buds but getting Eddie in return for it is a fair deal in Richie’s books.

The second thing to note is that Eddie is a lazy cook. He turns the kitchen into a battlefield of different sauces, with jars a million different pots and pans skewed across the stove and no more room to place anything else left. It’s gotten to the point that whenever Eddie is in charge of cooking, they will not even put their dinner on a plate anymore, but instead leave it in whatever it’s made in, because it eliminates dishes to wash. That’s what starts the mess that day in first place.

Richie isn’t an idiot. Yes, he can be dense at times, and when it comes to loving Eddie he’s more than a bit moronic, but he’s not stupid. He’s had to survive on his own – and with someone who didn’t lift a finger - for a long time, thus there was no other way. He’s aware of the danger of putting a metal bowl in the microwave, and how it can cause the metal to heat up and start a fire, and therefor has never been stupid enough to try it. But today, Richie is stressed.

Steve has been calling him all day to try and persuade him into doing an interview for a magazine, and no matter how many times, how loud or agitated Richie says no, Steve still insists. Richie paces annoyed towards his fridge phone locked between his shoulder and ear, so he can take out the metal bowl of soup with his hands, and place it in their microwave without a second thought.

‘Steve I don’t care how much publicity you think it will get me, I don’t want to do it,’ Richie mutters, turning around with his back towards the warming soup. The consistent arguing with Steve has his teeth grinding, his shoulders tense and his anxiety sparked.

Eddie is still out for work, but it’s closing at five pm, the time he ensures he’s at home, and Richie thinks he can hear his car driving up into the gravel parking lot. The absence of his boyfriend is about to be filled, and Steve is yapping away in his ear, not content to admit defeat just yet, it’s maddening.

‘Steve… Steve listen to me, don’t get your panties up in a twist, I have to go. Don’t book the interview. I won’t take any part in it.’ His denial doesn’t put a stop to Steve’s yapping, but at that point Richie is over his nagging. He pinches the bridge of his nose and utters; ’Okay nice chat’, and hangs up without waiting for a response back.

He lets the phone clatter on top of their kitchen surface and says that Steve got the message, if only for the rest of the day. His phone doesn’t vibrate again, leading Richie to assume he has won this round. He can’t help but lean forward so far his head rests against the cold tiles of the kitchen counter, just sighing for one long, extended breath. A night in on the couch with Eddie spooning him has never allured him so much. His back cracks with a satisfying pop as he readjusts his body, and he groans in gratifications.

Their alarm dings loudly in the open concept kitchen, a warning that someone has just entered their driveway. Richie doesn’t need to go look to know that it’s Eddie and his large, black suv, but he wants to anyway. He’s about to walk towards the front door to greet Eddie like he’s a pet that has been waiting anxiously for its owners return – and some would describe him in the same manner - when the air fills with smoke and a rancid smell. It’s barely detectable at first, nothing more but an insentient odor that is unpleasant but not resolute and easy to ignore. But then actual smoke begins to wash it’s way around Richie, and he has a split second of blissful unknowingness left, until the problem dawns on him.

Richie follows the smoke trail, and is shocked to find their microwave steaming and actually crackling, like it’s on the verge of exploding. It probably is. Still, it’s nothing compared to the cluster bomb of fumes that spread throughout the room when Richie actually opens the microwave door and gets slapped in the face with the enormity. It’s a surprise that their smoke detector has yet to erupt.

Instantly, his airways fill up smoke, prickling his cough reflection so tremendously he doubles over in extortion. The coughs rattle his body in a painful manner, his chest and back start to hurt from the brutal movements and the fact that he can’t grasp fresh air no matter how wide he opens his mouth. Objectively, Richie should understand it can get a lot worse - their smoke detector hasn’t gone off, and there are no flames to accompany the smoke and therefore turn their house into a major safety hazard - but a panic he hasn’t felt since David has shut down his logical thinking skills.

A key is slotted into their keyhole, and it turns a first time to leave. Eddie is about to open the door, in give or take in about a minute – it always drags out because despite living here for give or take two years, Eddie still can’t remember this lock unlatches via the left side and not the right – and walk in on an absolute shit show that Richie’s engendered.

So far there was indication, no sign that hinted to Richie he still had leftover, undealt trauma left from his time hanging around David, but now, his only thought revolving around how mad Eddie is going to be, how much trouble he’ll be in once Eddie sees everything, he starting to realize he might not be as over things as he originally believed.

He ignores the way his lung burn, and reaches forward to grab the pot – with fogged over glasses rendering him blind - protection less, not even grabbing the oven mitts to provide some shelter for the warmth. He can’t comprehend how dangerous that is, can only focus on the red lights blaring in his mind, telling him he needs to get rid of the evidence before Eddie gets here and unleashes hell upon him.

Unfortunately, he’s too late. A door unlocks and Eddie enters the house. His feet pad on their wooden floor, brazen and fast, like he’s been waiting for a shot at grilling Richie and he can sense his opportunity to do so has arrived – the motion is so un-Eddie Richie dismissed it as absurd then and there, but a seed of doubt remains -.

With time, Richie comes to learn how to listen to the different footsteps, and he can now recognize who’s walking towards him and in what kind of mood they find themselves in, without taking one look at the person's face.

Eddie’s footsteps, after every work day, drag across their floor, as if a thousand pound weight has been added to his back. The bottom of his shoes wear out a lot faster than Richie’s do, and it drives Eddie nuts because out of the two of them, he’s the one that treats his material objects neater than Richie.

Richie’s always delighted to notice how light his footsteps get after just a few minutes spent with him or the losers.

Now, he is too scared to pick up on such little details. His palms tingle unpleasantly, the boiling liquid burning them more with each second he hangs on. He stands in the middle of their kitchen like a fool, turning his body every which way and letting his eyes dart out an escape plan. The smoke is nowhere near gone, and there’s too much of it for Richie to open a window and it to be blown away. Eddie’s going to notice, there’s no way he can’t.

‘Richie, you won’t believe what this imbecile Josh did at work today. I swear, I don’t understand how some people can get fucking hired sometimes.’

Eddie trudges into the kitchen, his suit wrinkled from a long day of frantically working on a report that should have been finished by some other incompetent coworker. The groves in his face are more prominent today, acquired by the years of unhappiness he experienced with Myra, the ages of his life cut off by the shock of Pennywise's return and the occasional busy work day his job supplies him with.

A nausea craters in Richie's stomach, filled with guilt for turning Eddie’s night off into a stressful event that requires a ton of clean up. Eddie stops dead in his tracks when he notices the mess, his mouth slips shut, the word dying on his tongue.

He’s waiting for Eddie’s frown to deepen, for his lips to cresting into a fury. He’s waiting for the waterfall of insults that will be hurled at his head, each one meaner than the last, honing in on his deepest insecurities and having them exploited because Eddie’s so angry he’ll do anything to strike a verbal blow. And it’ll be worse now, because it’s Eddie. It’s the love of his life doing it now, the one’s approval he seeks most.

Eddie’s the person that knows him inside and out and knows exactly what boundaries to push and prod out to crack Richie open from head to toe. He waits for all that, with his hand still clamped around the bowl of burning hot soup, scorching his palms – by this point, Richie is sure there will be blisters by the time he finally unclasps his grip.

Eddie’s frown does deepen, but it’s not out of anger. ‘Rich, be careful you’ll hurt yourself.’ Richie doesn’t let go, but holds onto the sides of the bowl tighter. Part of him wants him to experience the pain, to let what he did sink in like David’s words always did.

‘Richie’, Eddie says startlingly firm. He’s not trying to approach Richie or the bowl, but he’s capturing Richie’s attention just by his firm voice. ‘Put it down.’

Richie drops the bowl of soup, watching helplessly as it splatters all over their freshly painted walls and the ground. Out of the corner of his eye a flat glob of liquid drips down the wall, dirtying a whole line down to the floor. Richie cringes, his heart beating so fast he could swear it’s about to jump out of his chest, and his mind a mantra of ‘look what you did, look what you did, look what you did.’

‘Fuck Richie, did you burn it?’

And Richie knows he’s caught. He was, up to two seconds ago, holding the evidence right in his hands, but he’s so petrified logic is not operating in his brain at the moment. The only thing he can focus on with great clarity, is that he’s willing to try anything to get him out of a verbal tear down.

‘No..’, he tapers off at the end, leaving his statement much more alike a question than he would have preferred. Eddie raises one eyebrow suspiciously, pointily averting his gaze towards the smoke floating around them.

‘No?’ He asks back equally confused, head tilted to the side. Richie can feel his throat closing up in panic, bracing himself for an onslaught. He doesn’t foresee Eddie’s nurturing and concerned approach. ‘Let me take a look at your hands’, Eddie murmurs tenderly.

It’s technically nothing new, the way Eddie treats him. After Neibolt and Richie’s big coming out, Eddie commenced all his vacation days and flew Richie all the way to Hawaii, for the pure intention of getting him away from any and all consequences. He’d allowed Richie to eat what he desired - within reason of course, there was no way Eddie was allowing Richie to eat pizza at 8 am-, waisted their days sitting by the pool and indulged in Richie unchancy pranks - one of which ended up with Eddie scrubbing out blue glitter out of his hair. Eddie had been kind then, so it shouldn’t be surprising he is in this situation.

It doesn’t take away the fear Richie is left with. David had good days too, days that he was the perfect boyfriend, but that would never last long, and Richie is left to speculate if it’ll be the same thing with Eddie.

Maybe it’ll be hidden in a secret message, maybe Eddie is busy hatching a plan that will utterly deploy Richie from the inside out. Eddie’s hands are gently skimming over Richie’s palms, inspecting the damage without irritating the skin even more. ‘It doesn’t seem like it’s bad. It hurts right?’

‘Yeah’, Richie croaks when he figures out the question isn’t rhetorical. He isn’t sure at the moment why that’s supposed to be good.

Eddie tips forward, stretching up higher so he can kiss Richie’s forehead tenderly. Against his skin he explains. ‘That means the burn isn’t too deep, but hold it under the water still.’

‘No but you know what does go deep?’

‘Nothing if you don’t treat your burns,’ Eddie teases with a smirk. He gently ushers Richie closer to their faucet, and holds his own palm under the stream of water, twiddling with the different temperature taps until he finds one that he deems just lukewarm enough to allow Richie’s hand under it.

The smoke in the air remains unspoken about. It’s almost as if Richie is more important than a potential house fire to Eddie, but that’s absurd. Not only because this is the house that both of them felt was the right one, and subsequently paid a lot of money for, but also because Richie isn’t that special. He’s not even trying to be condensing towards himself, because he truly believes that.

‘How did you manage to do this huh? Idiot.’ Eddie jokes while guiding his hand under the water at the correct angle, his salutation gets smoothed over by a hand ruffling his hair. Coincidentally, or perhaps the exact opposite, a part of the stress Richie accumulated falls away when Eddie calls him an idiot. It helps to underline why exactly Eddie will never be like David, why the two aren’t in the same league of each other even.

When Eddie says idiot, it’s a nickname, it’s a middle school jab when Richie runs too fast and trips over his own feet, it’s the symbolic soothing pat on the back he receives after he can get all of the losers to laugh at his humor. It’s their love langue no one understands, It’s Eddie’s way of hiding how deep his adoration goes with a job that’s unusual to others.

David’s condescending tone alone tipped Richie into the deep end, into a cave that echoed his deepest flaws and slammed it into the cavity in his chest every time something didn’t go according to plan. Idiot for David did not mean the same things. For David, idiot was shoving aside Richie’s concerns, it was disinterested in all his quirks and his passive attitude. He meant what he said without sarcasm.

A first tear tracks down Richie’s cheek. ‘Rich?’ Eddie inquires startled. His hand previously stroking Richie’s curls slides towards his elbow in a smooth motion.

Richie tries to tell him it’s okay, that he needs a minute to regroup but that he’s fine, but instead of that he sobs, more tears spilling over with no regards to him uneasy Richie is to cry in front of someone.

‘Richie shit I’m sorry. Does it hurt that bad? Do we need to go to a hospital? We’ll go right now.’

‘No, no hospital,’ Richie waves him off with his injured hands. Eddie leads his hand back without response, tracking his face to see if he gives away anything. Richie had forgotten his hand hurted in the first place, so he definitely didn’t require any treatment beyond what he was doing already. His tears are the result of being overwhelmed by his emotions, and his default response to that is to cry.

‘If you don’t want me to do that, that’s okay you know?’

Because his hand is incapacitated, he wipes his nose on the corner of his shirt, watching as Eddie’s wrinkles his nose at that. Still, even with the disgusting move on Richie’s part, Eddie leans in closer, molding Richie so he fits in the fold between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. There, he resumes his path of caressing Richie’s hair, and kissing his temple. Richie fists one of his hands in the back of Eddie’s shirt, pressing them as intimate as he can.

‘Hey sweetheart, it’s okay. What’s wrong?’

Richie sobs harder, not particularly keen on telling Eddie why he’s this upset. It’s a difficult topic to talk to anyone about, Eddie and the losers included. There were days that Richie twisted his mind to convince himself that it was all in his head. That David was the best boyfriend anyone could ever wish for, and that the tirades he had to endure was just the cost of that. He was afraid he added things in his mind that hadn’t actually taken place and he created his own narrative.

Apprehension held Richie back, dreading what Eddie’s response might be. He could exclaim Richie to be a complainer that should have praised himself lucky to get the abuse he got, or he could say that Richie was a sourpuss, turning a fly into an elephant.

‘Shouldn’t we get rid of the smoke first?’, Richie questions to stall.

‘Later’, Eddie soothes with another kiss to his temple. ‘Talk to me. Please Rich.’

‘There was this guy I used to date, David.’

Eddie’s head shoots up in bewilderment, his brow furrowed. ‘You never told me about him.’

‘Yeah well we never talk about your wife either and I thought that would mean we wouldn’t disclose our previous hang ups.’

‘Ex-wife. Remember Rich? She’s my ex-wife. There’s nobody in the world I would rather be with then with you.’

‘Stop it you bastard,’ Richie sniffles pathetically. ‘You know I can’t deny you anything when you sweet talk me.’

‘That’s the plan.’

Eddie thumbs underneath Richie’s eye socket, brushing in a hypnotic rhythm that ankers him to reality. If Richie nuzzles into Eddie’s palm, then no one else but then needs to know.

Talking about something that brings forth a lot of anxiety goes smoother with closed eyes, Richie’s come to find, so he does that before revealing what he should have revealed a long time ago.

‘He was.. not so kind’, he chuckles humorless. ‘He really thrived when he pointed out everything I did wrong, liked yelling too.’

‘Rich?’

‘Wait let me finish. If I don’t say it now I’ll never get the courage to again.’ He opens his eyes only to see Eddie nod in agreement, and his face starting to tang a bit red.

‘Sometimes I couldn’t even walk right without him being all up in my ass about it. At parties he would gladly tell everyone embarrassing things I did, or he would pretend like he did all the work at home while really he was the one that did nothing. And the way he spoke to me.. like I was a child and he was a teacher or something. And he had this way of saying things so I’d know I was a breath away from being yelled at, but so that he could still claim he never once raised his voice at me. I guess I was scared you were going to do the same thing after seeing what a major fuck up I am. . He kept insisting I didn’t do things good enough, but I was really trying my best. I fucking swear Eds. I can’t help that my best isn’t good enough.’

The repetitive motion that Eddie kept up during his long monologue abruptly ends, and Eddie instead balls his hands up into two fist, pulling away from Richie to lean on the counter. He bounces on his heels, unable to stand still any longer as he is now the one to squeeze his eyes shut.

‘Eddie?’ Richie implores, the panic from before quickly flooding through his bloodstream and entering every part of his body.

Eddie opens his eyes, and something on Richie’s face must give away what he’s experiencing, because he’s quick to assure Richie did nothing wrong. ‘No, shit Richie it’s not you sweetheart. I love you, you did nothing, nothing wrong.’

He pecks Richie on the lips twice, very softly and barely noticeable, almost a goad to get Richie to cram their lips together tighter. For a long moment, they don’t move. Their lips stay hovering just out of reach, and one of Eddie’s palms slide down Richie’s chest down to his belly and up again. It’s an effort for Eddie to try and generate as much love towards Richie as he possibly can, before his resolve breaks and he has to let his resentment for David out in some way.

‘I’m going to kill him.’ Eddie turns away from Richie, but his hand remains on Richie’s stomach, a connection so they don’t separate. His chest puffs up, almost like he’s gearing up to go fight David right now. He would if he got the chance.

‘Spagheddie you don’t have to do that for me. I don’t even own his number anymore.’

‘I don’t care Rich,’ Eddie’s voice trembles but is laced with a deadly amount of venom. ‘He should have never done those things to you. If I ever see him I’ll fucking strangle him with my bare hands.’

‘It’s fine Eds, it wasn’t that bad.’ The denial burns in his chest. He wondered for a long time if he could qualify what he went through as abuse, not because he was actively hoping to label himself as an abuse victim, but because he questioned if what happened to him was worth being this upset over. In conclusion, Richie decreed it wasn’t. Eddie's eyes snap up, burning behind a sheen layer of glass.

‘He never hit me like Bev’s husband did to her.’

‘That doesn’t fucking matter. What happened to Bev is terrible, but that doesn’t make what happened to you any less dire. Both of you were victims of abuse, save for a different kind.’

Are they comparable? If they were talking about another person Richie would say yes, that both leave lasting scars, but because he’s the subject of the question, he can’t say for sure. He’s not lenient enough with himself to allow such a statement to be made. Bev can suffer from the consequences of her abuse, but from Richie’s perspective, he should be over it by now.

‘Oh fuck,’ Eddie curses explicitly, ‘and I called you an idiot. Richie I’m so sorry.’

Eddie’s little crease that only appears when he’s discontent about something appears again, and he avoids eye contact with Richie. There’s no need for any of that. Richie hadn’t even taken that big of a notice about the word. He was reassured Eddie would never use it as a true insult, and even if he wasn’t convinced of that, the tender way Eddie reacts towards him otherwise would be enough to convince him.

‘No Eddie. I don’t mind, really. I don’t want things to change between us because I told you this. I like our banter.’

He finally takes his hand from under the lukewarm water stream, and dries it on his pants -the water, come Eddie’s prediction, has eased the aflame skin -. With both hands now free, Richie cuddles up closer to Eddie, using his arms to tug him closer. Eddie is still dressed in his suit from work - and it might deem handsome, but it is not very comfortable - but has not mentioned getting changed once, too enraptured with taking care of Richie.

‘They won’t if you don’t want to, but we’re making a deal. If I do something that hurts you, you need to tell me, so I can apologize and tell you I didn’t mean any of it. Are we clear?’

‘Aye aye captain. Shall we pinky promise on it?’

‘No, I’d rather kiss on it.’

They do, and this time the kiss progresses further than just a simple peck. Eddie cups Richie’s face in between his palms, a soft, sentimental smile ruining it a little. It doesn’t matter, Richie still greedily savors the moment as it comes.

‘All those times that you went on stage and rocked that whole performance I was already infinitely proud, but shit Richie, now that you’ve told me I’m even prouder. He tore you down but you spit in his face and said fuck no, I’m still going to be my own person. I’ll never let him treat you badly again. More importantly, you’ll never let him do it again. You’re so strong sweetheart.’

Richie sniffs, ‘why the hell are you still being so sappy? I told you everything already, there’s no need to spawn me further.’ He giggles, and Eddie can’t help but chuckle at the sight too, then he turns serious again.

‘Okay, now let me take care of you. I’m going to clean up, hush I am and you’re not going to lift a single finger, and then we’ll order in, watch tv from the bed and cuddle. That sounds good? We can talk about the heavy things in the morning.’ Richie has been through enough for one day.

‘That sounds perfect Eds.’

They let go of each other, but not before Eddie sneaks in a kiss on his forehead, cheek and jaw.

While dating David, Richie never used the word love. He knew, with manipulated affection and all, that he did not love David. Love isn’t supposed to change us, it’s supposed to accept us, makes us laugh and cry at appropriate times, and cocoon us in her warmth. Love doesn’t change us, but it adds something more to the previous person we were yesterday. Eddie adds something more to Richie every single day, be it by teaching him or standing by his side when he messes up. Richie loves Eddie, and he gets loved back equally as fierce.

#My writing #I'm literally begging for people to comment their opinions on my writing #reddie #reddie fic #richie and eddie #adult Richie #adult Eddie Kaspbrak #richie x eddie #reddie imagines #hurt comfort #fluffy ending #but heavy middle and beginning #eddie loves Richie #they're in love #Richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack

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phebia · 4 years

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Making Family, Chapter One

I still feel like I’m not the best at capturing these character’s personalities so I apologize if anyone is too OOC.

Also, formatting might be weird because I’m transferring this off of Wattpad and I’m too lazy to fix it hehe.

Tags(?): @khearts14

"Selina! Mija, can you get the door?" Geny's voice rang out from somewhere inside the house, momentarily distracting me from coating my lips in the mauve colour I had picked out for orientation this morning. "Yeah!" I shouted back, pursing my lips and taking one last lingering look in the mirror before making my way to the front door. I opened the door just enough to peak out, remembering Ruby's "Lessons of Freeridge" presentation. He gave an updated version every time he saw me, the most recent of which came last night after everyone had cleared out. There was a slightly familiar girl stood on the front porch, but it took me a minute to recognize her. The boys had told me stories upon stories of Monse and there had even been a brief, slightly awkward, group FaceTime call more than a few weeks back. While I was trying to figure out where I knew her from, she was seemingly also confused about my identity. "Monse, right?" I raised my eyebrows and nervously chewed at my lower lip, praying that my confidence was just and she was in fact who I thought she was. A moment later a flash of realization moved through her dark chocolate eyes and then she was smiling at me. "Selina." She pointed a finger at me and nodded, her answer pulling a relieved smile from me. "It's nice to finally meet you. The boys talk about you a lot." I spoke shyly and opened the door wider so that she could step inside. "Likewise." We stood in the doorway for a few awkward seconds, a silence enveloping us until I couldn't take anymore. I awkwardly cleared my throat and looked down at my Jordan's before vaguely gesturing behind me to Ruby's new room. I let Monse lead the way, not wanting to disrupt the reunion about to occur after an entire summer apart and mentally smacking myself for my momentary loss of social skills. "I'm back." Monse sung, clearing her throat and smiling widely as she crossed the threshold into the room. Ruby turned to her, not blinking, instead his eyes moved from her to his end table multiple times. "Can you move that side table?" I arched an eyebrow at the lack of enthusiasm the girl's arrival received. The big talk around the house was that this was supposed to be the reunion of the century, but what I was witnessing was far from that. The boy's effort was lacklustre and underwhelming. Frankly, I had given the girl a better welcome than her two best friends. "No, seriously don't make such a fuss." Monse's smile fell into a sneer and she had no problem displaying her displeasure with the boys. "I've only been gone all summer, but really, it's no big deal." She wandered further into the room, stopping to stand directly in front of her sad little welcome party, eyes narrowed into a glare. Ruby shrugged, a slight nod acknowledging his fuck up while Jamal just smiled by his side. "How was camp?" My cousin's eyes were empty and bored, Ruby surely unimpressed with having to take a break from his big bedroom plans. "Camp was fine. Notice anything new?" A smile of my own appeared on my face as Monse grinned widely, showing off her perfectly straight smile in hopes of a compliment or two. "You got boobs." Both boys spoke simultaneously, their stares never leaving her face and their answers causing Monse's smile to slip off her face. Mine followed soon after, my eyes flashing between the group of three in slight disbelief, not missing the way the younger girl crossed her arms over her chest. "You guys are shit friends." I spoke up for the first time, leaning in the doorway snickering. "She got her braces off." My laughing stopped and I stared directly at the boys, clearly unimpressed at the fact that they didn't seem to realize they were making their friend uncomfortable. All three young teenagers turned towards me; Ruby and Jamal blinking in surprise and Monse shooting me a shy and thankful smile. "We knew that." Jamal nodded, casually waving me off as if they were about to mention that next and hadn't completely missed it. "How did you even know that?" Ruby narrowed his eyes at me, irate as he often was when things weren't going his way. A tiny smirk played on my lips and I took a moment to look him up and down. "Try thinking with your brain instead." I raised my filled in brows for emphasis, the corner of my lips quirking up when Monse thanked me for noticing. "You can wait for Cesar to help." She turned back to the boys and just like her that her frustrated awkward attitude was back. I had better things to focus on now though, my ears perking up at the name. Cesar Diaz had alluded me for far too long and he was one mystery I was dying to know more about. That was most likely because Ruby was so tight lipped about whatever had went down between them. All I knew was that he used to be best friends with the three kids in front of me, but something changed that. Ruby had even gone as far as to prohibit Jamal from telling me what their old friend looked like, just in case I ended up seeing him around town. Despite the boy's best efforts, there was no hiding the fact that something had gone down. Although I was surprised Monse, someone so close to the source, had no idea what had happened either, the immature part of me was just happy I wasn't the only one out of the loop. "Then we'll be waiting a really long time." Jamal revealed as he sat back on his chair and Ruby brushed past Monse with an eye roll. "Why? Where's Cesar?" Monse continued her questioning. "We're not talking to him." The girl either missed the irritated looks Ruby was shooting at her or she simply didn't care. And, based on what I knew about the girl, I'd say it was the latter. "You in a fight?" Her eyes briefly flit to me for a possible answer but all I could do was shrug, just as in the dark as she was. "Well, it wasn't really a fight. It was more like a-" "We're not getting into it." Ruby caught Jamal off, his voice harsh as he shot his friend a pointed look and then turned back to Monse. "Trust us, Cesar's not cool." There was a brief moment where his firm eyes flashed in my direction. His silent attempt at scolding me as well earned him an unimpressed scowl and had me wondering who the fuck he thought he was. "I don't know, I heard he's pretty cool." I hummed, simply commenting to annoy my cousin even further. Ruby snapped his head in my direction and pointed his finger at me, spitting a few words in Spanish at me before humphing and returning to his half made bed. My features melted into confusion at the foreign language. A part of me was glad I wasn't very familiar with it at all so that his words just rolled off of me but the other part of me wanted to be able to sass him right back. Maybe I could at least get Mario to teach me some not-so-nice phrases long distance. "Well, I'm not cool not being cool. And why aren't you at football?" Monse had clearly mastered the art of ignoring Ruby years ago, which was something I was envious of after only a day of living with him. The mention of the sport made Jamal look up from the book he was reading, eyes wide yet refusing to meet anyone's gaze. "We should really get to orientation before those lines get too long." He stood up, his words rushed. "Yeah, I don't want to be too sweaty for my ID. Like Mario said, "It's all about the right first impression." It was slightly impressive how well they changed the subject, neither of them closing their mouths long enough for anyone else to get a word in. "And sticking together!" Then again, Monse seemed to have no problem talking over them. "You're totally deflecting this whole Cesar sitch. So stop being bitches and tell me." I looked on with eager eyes but just when it looked like she was about to break them, Geny's voice once again interrupted things. This time my aunt had the intention of making sure we weren't late to orientation and the boy's used the distraction to start pulling Monse and I out of the house, barely giving me enough time to grab my sunglasses and place them on my head. We were only a few steps down the sidewalk when the shortest of the bunch began complaining about having to walk everywhere and pestering me about when my car would arrive from Waterdown. If I was being honest with myself, I was dreading the entire orientation process and couldn't decide if it would've been better to have the journey take more or less time. Chances were that I'd be the only upperclassman around and if that didn't draw enough attention to me, my size would do the rest. People loved to notice me, and not for the right reasons. The snickers were rarely muffled and the comments were never quiet enough, because nobody really cares if you hear them. The only thing keeping you together is the fact that you've heard it all before. Said it to yourself before, because if you hurt yourself no one else can. But it's only a matter of time before someone gets a little creative and you have another thing to think of when you look into the mirror. After years of ridicule there were countless hateful things lingering in my mind, just begging for a weak moment to escape and push tears out of my eyes. But just thinking about them almost made the tears well up, so instead I focused on the argument Monse was still valiantly keeping alive as I walked between Jamal and Ruby. The boys had taken to staying silent, refusing to even indulge her with argumentative words anymore. The silent treatment was smart, but I wasn't sure it would be enough to deter the fiery girl next to Ruby. "He's the glue of our crew." Despite the lack of responses, she was still trying to force answers out of them. Ruby had previously told me that once you get Monse going there's no stopping her, but I had had doubts. I had always wondered why it was so important to Ruby that I know that, but as I witnessed her grilling the boy's I was very certain it was a warning. Needless to say, all my doubts were gone and I had no intention of being on the receiving end of the Afro-Latino's rage. "That was then, and this is now." Jamal insisted, breaking the stretch of silence much more politely than Ruby could have ever hoped to do so. "Yeah, Cesar ain't shit." As if only to prove my point my baby cousin chimed in as well. The group of kids took a sharp turn into an alleyway and Ruby had to grab me by my elbow to keep me with them. "What?" I asked lowly when he shot me a look. "I don't know where the hell we're going." With a simple shake of his head Ruby was back to staring straight ahead, avoiding Monse's gaze until something he saw made him froze. "Shit, Prophets." The words made me flinch and my heart rate quickly began to pick up. Throughout all my visits to Freeridge I had surprisingly not encountered a Prophet nor a Santo, but everyone made sure I understood who they were and what they were capable. As I watched the trio decked out in green and yellow it wasn't hard to decide I would've much preferred to see a group of Santos as we rounded the corner. They'd be less likely to kill me because I lived on their block. (Another wonderful tip from Lessons of Freeridge). "Be cool." "Ditch your colours." Waterdown wasn't the safest place on Earth but it might as well have been a safe haven compared to Freeridge. I had never been involved in the violent side of Waterdown but moving to Freeridge had thrown me into the middle of a gang war and I very obviously didn't know what to do in this situation. The kids on the other hand were clearly well versed in the danger. Ruby didn't hesitate to pull his hoodie over his head and then proceed to ask if he had ruined his hair after we passed the gang affiliated teenagers. His nonchalant attitude shocked me but I didn't say anything about it. My life before wasn't all sunshine and daisy's, but I was well aware it was better than most people's here and privilege was a tense subject here. I wasn't about to advertise mine. "Yeah." I scrunched my nose up, exaggerating the damage done to his beloved locks, grinning as he pulled out his phone to play with his hair. "Code dread. Code dread. Approaching on your six." My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I was much less discrete about looking behind me than the others were, fully turning my body to see who was approaching. Recognition flooded me and I did my best to smile at Jasmine but memories of her... lively personality at my welcome party played through my mind. "Yo! You guys going to orientation?" I stayed put, waiting for her to catch up, only for two hands to grab at me and start pulling me away. "Hey, you know my cousin Berto, the fine one, hey?" I was still facing Jasmine, doing my best to listen to her and not fall as my ass at the same time. "His daughter Letty said it ain't nothing, unless your stupid and you can't spell your name. And then you hold up the line and then people get mad." The pace we were moving kept increasing much to my chagrin. The longer this went on the more likely I was to fall and twist an ankle or something, despite my flat shoes. Grace was something I did not have much of. Jasmine frowned as she too noticed that this was no leisurely stroll. "Hey, why are you guys walking so fast? You know I can't keep up. I have asthma." A frown pulled at my features and for a moment my heart hurt, a pit instantly forming in my stomach. I knew what it was like to be that girl. Trying so hard to be friends with people who don't want anything to do you, and then realizing when it's too late. It sucked. Before I knew what was happening I was stopping, my emotions not allowing me to do Jasmine dirty in the same way that so many girls had done me before. "Selina!" Ruby turned and returned to my side when he realized he no longer had a hold on me, whisper yelling at me and shooting me a pleading look. I pouted at him but that didn't do anything, his stare remaining steady and frantic. With a pitiful sigh I turned, keeping pace with the group as they began walking once more. "Sorry, Jasmine, we're having a private convo. Real sensitive stuff. Catch you next time." Monse looped her arm in mine and called out to the other girl, not even bothering to turn her head. The tiny whine that came from behind made my eyes widen and my frown deepen but the others gave me no time to dwell on it as they continued their brisk pace. "That's what you always say." Her voice was steadily fading until all of a sudden her footsteps were fast approaching. A quick glance behind showed Jasmine running towards us, a look of determination on her face. "Is it really that big of a deal?" I turned to where Ruby used to be only to find him and the others running ahead. Out of instinct my legs began to move faster, my head moving between the small squad and the lone girl, my jog light. "Monse, this isn't nice." I scolded the teen closest to me, my words making her turn her head to look at me incredulously. "If you don't run now, you're never gonna get out." Her words made me groan but with one last sorry look back I began sprinting to catch up with the others. Jasmine seemed like a nice enough girl but the last thing I wanted was to get suckered into hanging out with a 14 year old that wasn't a relative or friend of said relative. My cousin and his best friends were bad enough. Besides, I could always get Ruby, Jamal, and Monse to befriend her. As I ran a part of me was unravelling with insecure thoughts about what I looked like running, but a larger part of me was just desperate to keep up with the kids. I would be lost without them, literally. And the last thing I wanted was to be stumbling through Freeridge streets alone. Yet, despite the slight urgency of the situation, I couldn't help but slow down to smile and wave at a woman and her baby as I passed them. However, a moment later I was cursing my baby fever when I heard Jasmine scream my name. A few more blocks passed and I had finally managed to escape Jasmine and catch up with my three original companions. "Man, she is relentless." Jamal gasped as I stopped behind them, placing my hands on my knees as I caught my breath. It had been a long time since I had run at all, let alone ran with that much intensity for that distance. Once my lungs stopped screaming and I no longer felt like I might vomit I straightened out and joined the ranks once more, pulling my sunglasses off the top of my head to untangle them from my crimped hair. "That was mean, guys." I sighed, torn between not being impressed by the childish actions but also being the slightest bit amused. "Come on, Selina. It was a nice save." Jamal shot me his cheesiest smile and I knew I had lost that debate already. "Oh, you're not safe." Monse disagreed, back onto the Cesar issue as if Jasmine had never made an appearance. "Your threats aren't penetrating, okay?" I placed my tinted shades back on my head, allowing them to push back some of the hair that normally framed my face, doing my best to fix my appearance without a mirror. "I'm not telling you what Cesar said." My head shot up at Jamal's slip up, my hands momentarily stopping their adjustment of my cleavage. "Ah ha! So he said something!" Monse had also caught the admission and she had turned around before I could even remove my hands from my bra. "Jamal! Do you need a muzzle?" Ruby growled at Jamal, who had his hand clasped over his mouth, before turning to his other longtime friend. "Monse, no offence, but you're a loose cannon." Although his tone was soft for Ruby, my cousin was digging himself into a deep hole and I instinctively moved to walk in between the two. I wouldn't put it past Monse to jump on his ass, not that she would've been unprovoked. "We're telling you for your own protection." His next words had my jaw dropping and my eyes narrowing. "My own protection?" Monse scoffed, seemingly just as shocked and offended as I was. "Eat a dick." I whirled around and stepped in front of Ruby, getting in his face with my resting bitch face in full effect. If we were being real, Monse had every right to know what caused the rift in the group and Ruby's ignorance and way of handling it was quickly becoming tiresome to me. "Thank you!" Monse exclaimed, nodding at me and turning on her heel to continue walking away from the boys. "Okay, you just made our case in point." Ruby swirled his finger in my face as I backed up and left him and Jamal behind to walk with Monse. "You don't even know, and you're already at Defcon Solange." His matter of fact tone made glare at the stop sign further down the road and run my tongue over my teeth. "Look, I may be nosy about the Cesar thing, but that's all it is. Nosiness. But, don't you ever pull shit like this and tell a girl you're doing it to protect her. That's a dick move, Ruby. Okay?" Upon being met with my fiery glare the Latino swallowed thickly and nodded, but before he could speak grunting filled the street. My eyes immediately moved to find the source of the noise, my pace subconsciously slowing as I saw a group of guys kicking the shit out of someone in front of a dumpster. I gasped quietly as Jamal and Ruby were suddenly squishing me between them, doing their best to block my view of the beating. "Don't look. Keep walking." Jamal scolded me, as if I didn't have the Freeridge street knowledge of a toddler and should know better by now. We silently walked past the alleyway and as hard as I tried I couldn't resist sneaking a few looks over my shoulder. "Why would anyone want to get jumped into 19th street? If it were me, I'd join first street, only one second of pain." Jamal voiced his judgements once we had cleared the side street and no one would be able to hear his lowered voice. "Agreed. And who wants a lifetime commitment at our age?" Ruby nodded in agreement, his voice even lower than Jamal's. A lifetime commitment at 14 might've sounded like a lot to a normal person, but I've been dying for one since I was around that age. My parents were gone the majority of the time, and although they were assholes when they were around, there was nothing I wanted more than to have them with me. Eventually I gave up on that and tried to find a significant bond in my friendships. But, when you're friends with the pretty girls and there's never more than a month where they're single there's too many guys trying to get close just to get into their panties. Flashbacks of fake flirting only to ask about my girlfriends made me shiver. It was the unfortunate reality of being the fat, ugly friend and it was also the story of my life. This time it wasn't the arguing friends to pull me from my thoughts, but the sound of rap music and the rumble of a car approaching. I couldn't stop my head from turning, eyes eager to see what was coming. I also couldn't stop myself from biting my lower lip when I saw the cherry red Impala cruising down the street. "That's hot." I hummed lowly, eyes remaining trained on the vintage Chevy despite the groans my praise received from the boys. My fingers pushed my gold glasses further up my nose as I continued to stare, it was the first nice car I'd seen in Freeridge and the sight of it practically made my toes curl in excitement. "We can't tell you what Cesar said." I looked away from the Impala long enough to see Ruby shake his head in one final plea, that went ignored by Monse. "Fine. Then I'll ask myself." With that she boldly stepped out into the street, forcing the driver of the car to slam on the brakes. "Hey, you crazy?" My view of the driver was obscured even when he yelled out the window at Monse, but his deep voice sent a small shiver up my spine. I found myself shifting closer to the edge of the sidewalk, doing my best to sneak a peak at him and get a better view of the car. A hand grabbed at my wrist to stop me but I yanked away from the touch immediately, turning to look at Ruby who was watching me worriedly. "You know who owns that car?" He gulped and looked at his shoes, avoiding my eyes and refusing to answer my question. When he met my gaze a few moments later I arched an eyebrow at him, silently questioning if he was going to answer me or not. "That's Cesar's older brother, Spooky." My interest was officially through the roof with that answer. I stepped off the curb without hesitation but all my confidence faded as soon as I was stood in the road and I remained a couple meters in front of the car. Monse was looking though the window but I didn't pay her much mind, distracting myself from my anxiety by admiring the vibrant paint and gleaming chrome. It was only when I felt eyes on me that I looked up and glanced through the windshield. A blush quickly warmed my cheeks and I felt a lump forming in my throat when I found that I had gotten caught staring by Cesar's older brother. He tilted his head at me, dark eyes drinking in my appearance, making me insecurely cross my arms over my stomach. Monse glanced in my direction as well, and it was Ruby and Jamal's quiet cursing that was the clue that told me I now had to go join the younger girl. "Selina, you don't have to go." Ruby's whispers came from behind me and I knew he was trying to reassure me. He had witnessed me have a breakdown courtesy of my social anxiety once before and I was sure he would do anything to avoid another one right now. I knew I had to go though, and despite my intimidation and sudden rampant insecurity, something inside of me wanted to get closer to the unfamiliar man anyways. I bit the inside of my cheek and let my arms fall to my sides, clenching my clammy hands into fists and shuffling my way to Monse. By the time I had joined her side and leaned down to see into the car, Cesar's brother was speaking to her again. "It's all good. You just look a little different. What is it?" The sound of his voice made me shiver and I hated to admit that he was undeniably hot. Probably too attractive for his own good. As he waited for a response from Monse his attention turned to me. He shamelessly looked me up and down, his eyes particularly focused on my exposed cleavage. I was sure that by now the small bit of attention had turned me the same shade of red that his car was and when he looked back up and met my stare, it was a surprise that my knees didn't buckle. I shifted my weight around, getting antsy under his gaze, but unable to stop myself from mimicking his actions when he licked his lips. He chuckled at that, the discovery of his dimples making me nibble on my lower lip. "My boobs." For a moment I had forgotten that Monse was there, but I was thankful for her blatant answer. It gave me a chance to shake away the tingles that had been buzzing around my body. "Nah, you got your braces off." Spooky nodded at her, raising an eyebrow as his eyes drifted to check out the assets she was newly sporting. The ever familiar pit of disappointment settled in my gut until a laugh rumbled from his chest. "Let me know when you look that." He tilted his chin towards me and I couldn't stop my face from morphing into one of shock. However, it wasn't long before a shy smile was pulling at my lips and I looked to the ground coyly, not missing the smirk stretching across his face. Most girls might've been uncomfortable under his intruding stare and bold words but the only thing making me queasy was the flashes of hope and insecurity tightening my stomach. I might've stood there and let him talk to me like that for hours if it wasn't for the affronted look Monse shot us both. I met the girl's gaze, instantly seeing her desire to leave in her shining eyes. "You're tripping." I looked back at the cholo behind the wheel and shook my head, doing my best to keep my voice steady. "Nice '63." I patted the bottom of the open window and pursed my lips into a smile as I began to stand up straight. His eyebrows furrowed and he huffed, looking at me as if I had just confused him, but his cocky smile never faltered. I followed Monse back towards the boys, missing the way that Spooky craned his neck to get a better look at my retreating form. "Hey!" His voice stopped me in my tracks, and it took me only a second to turn around and see him leaning out his window again. "I'll see you around princesa." He kissed his teeth and gave me one last once over before ducking back into the car and beginning to drive off, his chuckles barely reaching my ears over the loud rap music and sound of my heart racing. My brain was a muddled mess of thoughts, the excited and happy buzz clashing with the negative realism that always lingered in my head. I stood in the street, the warm feeling lingering in my stomach despite the fact that I was reminding myself that guys like him don't go for girls like me. Caroline would've called that thought a personal attack, but in my eyes it was just a simple fact. He could have any girl he wanted on her knees in front of him with a single smile. That didn't match up with my rolls and squishy bits, which pushed people away. The more I got lost in my thoughts the more stupid I felt about how easily I had gotten my hopes up. Apparently I had learned nothing from my past experience with boys. "Selina." Jamal's voice shattered through my spiralling thoughts, making me realize that I had been watching the car disappear down the street. I mumbled an apology as I rejoined the group, shaking my head to rid myself of the possibly impending breakdown. Ruby appeared behind me and tossed his sweater over my chest as we all waited for Monse to say something. "When did Oscar get out?" The faintest hints of a smile pulled at my lips at the revelation of his real name. "Six weeks ago." Ruby admitted, hovering over me as if I had just been assaulted and wasn't simply trying to get rid of the butterflies swirling around my stomach. "Now it makes sense. Whatever Cesar said, he said to impress Oscar. Cesar's terrified of his brother." Monse had fizzled out a bit after her interaction with Spooky, but the determination in her voice never wavered. "Along with everyone else." Jamal piped up from behind us all. His words made me furrow my eyebrows and I couldn't keep myself silent. "Why?" Sure, there had been something about the man that made me freeze up but I put that onto my anxiety. The look the younger boy was shooting me said that there was something else going on, though. "Oscar's the leader of the Santos." He explained and suddenly the tattoos and Spooky made sense. The naive part of my brain said that just made him hotter but I refused to be that dumb. Stupid thoughts like that would get you killed in Freeridge. As the others bickered I came to the realisation that I hadn't even glanced at Cesar during the entire ordeal and I still had no clue what the shunned squad member looked like. I didn't dwell on it for very long though, distracted by a sound coming from behind us. "Tax time, bitches!" "Shit, Latrelle." I froze in place and shakily turned around with the others, but most of the intimidation factor was lost the second I landed eyes on the scrawny kid behind us. The only keeping me weary was Ruby's countless tales of Freeridge muggings. "Hands up, money out." I was surprised at how quickly the squad's hands shot up, and despite my urge to say something I bit my tongue as I raised mine. "How can we take money out with our hands up?" Ruby rambled from his spot next to me, his comment making me shift uneasily. "I know you bookheads got that back to school gwop." He sneered at Ruby before meeting my wide eyes and I was suddenly glad for the black hoodie tied around my shoulders. "It's orientation day. So technically, we're neither back to school nor out of school. We're-" I slowly reached over and clamped a hand over Monse's mouth before she could say anything else. "We don't have any money." Ruby shook his head, but it didn't take more than a glare from Latrelle for Jamal to mention the $20 Geny had slipped Ruby before we left the house. "Really?" I hissed, reaching over and smacking Jamal on the back of the head as Latrelle walked off with the money. "At least you have your own room." He swatted my hand away and grinned at a fuming Ruby, the change of subject luckily enough to distract him.

My plans for after orientation had been to go home, avoid all mirrors and drown my feelings in ice cream. Maybe let my thoughts wander to a certain cholo for bit. They had not been to walk Jamal and Monse home. But when the girl looked up at me with wide eyes and an even wider smile, I couldn't say no. I should've said no. I realized that as soon as we stopped across the street from a house with a multitude of Santos outside of it. Most of them were spread out drinking or playing cards. My eyes moved over a younger boy sitting on a couch who I assumed to be Cesar, before they finally settled on Oscar who was sat on a crate next to his brother. My tongue peaked out of my mouth as I watched him lift a weight over his head, the veins in his arms and the way his face scrunched up with effort distracting me from Jamal and Monse's persistent bickering. "Selina, if someone breaks up with you over text, is it official?" The question caught me off guard and forced me to pay attention to the teenagers once more. "Uh, yeah." I answered, not following where he was going with the question. "Then consider me the text." I chuckled, surprised at his metaphor. "You've been dumped!" Monse rolled her eyes and grabbed my wrist, turning towards the house, clearly done with Jamal's antics. A flash of panic flooded through me at the thought of accompanying her to the front yard, not jumping at the idea of standing in front of the intimidating group. "Wait, please don't go." Jamal grabbed her one again, relief washing over me when she turned back to him. "Please, you're... You're not safe." Suddenly my anxiety was no longer my biggest concern. "Why?" Monse and I both questioned at the same time, earning us an exasperated look from Jamal. "Because you've... blossomed." He didn't even bother looking at me, all his focus directly on Monse. "Blossomed?" A small smirk appeared on my face at the stupid euphemism, but Monse hadn't caught on yet. Much to Jamal's chagrin. "Popped. Busted out. Puffed your party pillows. Whatever you want to call your new cha-cha-bingos. These new homies he's hanging with, they're thirsty." All I could do was blink at the rambled outburst. Jamal was something special, and I wasn't sure if I'd ever get used to him. With one last glance at Monse's chest he shoved his sweater into her arms, earning a giggle from me which was quickly silenced by Monse's next words. "That's why I'm bringing Selina." My jaw dropped and I whipped my head towards her. It was one thing to stand across the street and make sure she was okay, but I had no business strutting up there with her. "Mine don't have anything on hers." I smiled for a moment at her words, my face quickly falling when I remembered what her plans for me were. "Besides, Oscar was practically foaming at the mouth for her." I spluttered and smacked her hands away as she reached to perch my boobs up higher. "He doesn't give a shit about me." I urgently whispered, wildly pointing at the gang leader who now had a beer in his hand. Both kids ignored me in favour of continuing their staring contest until Jamal broke. "I hate when you're right." He muttered as I rolled my eyes and swallowed the lump in throat, coming to terms with the fact that I was going whether I liked it or not. I shifted my weight around anxiously as I appeased Monse by emphasizing my cleavage a bit more. "Okay! Don't worry, girls! I got your back... from right here." Jamal's voice faded away as we approached the house together. "Why did I have to come?" My words were practically a whimper and I found myself clasping my hands together in front of me, nervously picking at my nails as we got closer. "Shh, it'll be fine." Having a 14 year old shush me made me blink and look around, embarrassment warming my face a bit. As much as I wanted to trail behind, I remained in step with Monse and when she came to a stop in front of Cesar I just so happened to stop in front of his big brother. Spooky's eyes met mine as he peered at me and took a long sip from his Corona, my eyes following his movements when he ran his hand down his face and wiped the lingering drops of alcohol away from his mouth. "I need to talk to you." As Monse spoke, my eyes flit around the yard and I anxiously shifted my shoulders, noticing all the eyes on us for the first time. "I'm listening." I arched an eyebrow at Cesar's response, very aware of how out of place he looked amongst the Santos. No matter how hard he tried to appear, his act was anything but convincing. "Privately?" Monse pushed, her request making Cesar sigh and look away from her. I could still feel Oscar's gaze on me but I clenched my jaw and continued to focus on the kids. "Yeah, we can go inside." Cesar nodded but almost seemed reluctant to say the words, still looking anywhere but Monse. Spooky's heavy stare was suddenly no longer on me and he was clearing his throat loudly, his actions causing both his brother and I to look in his direction. He looked up at me as he took a sip from his beer, the eye contact causing my stomach to clench. As he lowered his drink he nodded his head at me, shooting me the same grin from our earlier interaction. I tilted my head towards the ground to hide my red cheeks and pursed my lips to fight off a smile. "But, uh, if you wanna sit on my face, you gotta put that mouth on pause so I can concentrate." Cesar's words made my head snap up and my jaw drop, my shocked stare drilling into the side of his face. The guys around the yard all began to laugh at the comment and our reactions, and before I knew it Monse was gone. "Monse!" My head turned and I called out for her retreating form but she never looked back, and I couldn't even blame her for abandoning me there. If it were me in her position I probably would've ended up crying in front of the gang members. Earlier, all I had wanted was to be as far away from this place as possible but now that I had my chance to leave something was holding me there. Monse had spent the entire day defending Cesar and I'd be damned if I let him disrespect her without a care in the world. With Monse gone all eyes were on me, but I ignored the other Santos in favour for bending over to be face with face with the boy stretched out on the couch. I clenched my jaw and narrowed my eyes at him, too angry to notice Oscar leaning over for a better view of my ass. "You might wanna start using your fucking brain if you want to stop jerking it to pictures of Ruby's Abuelita and get some real pussy." His brown eyes widened with every word I spoke and flashed to my hand when I momentarily jerked it along to my words. Murmurs and laughter came from the onlookers but I never took my attention off of the teenager in front of me. A part of me expected some sort of response from him, but all he could do was stare at me, proving for a fact that he was far from hard. I dragged my eyes over his form, visibly unimpressed and humphed, standing back up and turning to leave. "Hey mami, you're more than welcome to stay." I hadn't gotten more than a few feet away when Spooky's voice froze me in place and had my heart climbing into my throat. I shakily turned back around, eyes starting on him before moving across the other Santos. "Looks pretty packed." I ignored the empty spots next to Cesar and licked my lips nervously, not missing the way Oscar's eyes followed my actions. "I got a spot for you right here." As Spooky patted his lap, his friends whistled and jeered but all I could do was leer at him in embarrassment. My arms instinctively crossed over my stomach in an attempt to make myself smaller and as he pursed his mouth into a self-satisfied smirk I had to look away, before I ended up perching myself on his lap. "Where'd all that spice go, hyna?" Oscar called out to me again but I couldn't hold his stare for long and soon I was rushing away, not bothering to wait for Jamal or Monse. "Selina? Are you okay?" The two of them were hurrying to catch up with me, and even though we were well down the street from the house my pace didn't slow. "What did they do to you?" I finally stopped and whirled around to face them, throwing my arms out to the side and shrugging. "Nothing." I admitted, hating how easily flustered I became around people. All it took was a few suggestive comments and I turned into a useless pile of mush. Maybe my anxiety was to blame, or my lack of experience with boys. The guys in Waterdown would never even bat an eye at me, let alone waste their time flirting. It was strange to be seen. Scary to be seen. And yet, I wanted him to see me. "Look, I'll catch you guys later." The friends stared at me with concerned eyes before sharing a look between them. "You're good from here, right?" They were much safer on Freeridge streets than I was currently, but I still found myself asking. Jamal looked like he was going to protest but Monse spoke before he could. "Yeah. We're good." She smiled. "You know how to get back to Ruby's from here, right?" I nodded, forcing a smile onto my face before saying goodbye and starting the short walk home.

When I got back to the house I decided not to mention the short visit to Cesar's house to Ruby, not knowing how'd he react or what he'd have to say. There wasn't much to say anyways, nothing had really happened between Oscar and I, and I was sure that Monse was looking forward to telling Ruby about what an asshole Cesar had been herself. I was glad I chose to keep my mouth shut because the moment I entered the house I was affronted by a glowering Ruby. I listened to him whine and complain about his new living situation while helping him move Abuelita's things into his room. But the moment he suggested bunking with me I was out, telling him that I had promised his mom I would take the twins to the park. That had been a complete lie, but I would've done anything to get out of that situation. It took me a while to wrangle the twins but eventually we were ready to go and Geny had given me the okay to take them. As we were stepping out the door a hand clamped down on my shoulder making me jump. "What?!" I cried, half expecting to see Ruby or the boogeyman behind me. However, spinning around showed Abuelita, the keys to her Station Wagon in her hand and a knowing glimmer in her eyes. "Thanks." I smiled as I reached out for the keys, pleasantly surprised that she trusted me to take her car even though I might as well have still been a stranger. "You have your license, right?" She pulled the keys back momentarily, her voice laced with suspicion. "Yes, Abuelita. I'll let you laugh at the picture when we get back." I sighed, rolling my eyes softly. "Good. Have fun, mija." My promise returned the smile to her face and she handed the keys over without another problem. If getting the twins out of the house had been hard, getting them into the car was near impossible. I managed though, and within a few minutes we were pulling away fro the house. We had hit our first red light by the time I realized I had no clue where the nearest park was, much to the twins amusement. Luis was ready to tell me the moment I offered to buy them juice at the park, but Luisa made him hold off until I made the promise of ice cream, then they were more than happy to shout out directions to me. When we arrived I forced them to run around for a bit before buying them both a Popsicle off of the slightly unnerving ice cream man. I sat down on a bench facing the play structure and opened their ice cream for them, letting them run wild and wincing at the thought of how sticky they'd be when they returned to me. A couple hours passed and I spent most of my time closely watching the twins, paranoid that something might happen to them. Luckily for me they had worn themselves out before sunset and I had them home in time to take a bath before supper. After dinner I helped Geny wash up and tidy the house, despite her assurance that she was perfectly fine doing it alone, and on my way to my bedroom I dropped my drivers license into Abuelita's lap, smiling tiredly when I heard her laugh of victory. The sun had dipped below the horizon a while ago and that made me feel a bit better about how tired I was. I shamelessly swapped out my proper clothing with an oversized t-shirt and pair of panties, crawling under the blankets after scrubbing my makeup off my face. Just as I closed my eyes my phone buzzed from it's place on my side table, a text from Ruby lighting up the screen. Cesar thing explained tomorrow.

Next Day*

"And then Cesar said that he smashed Monse!" Ruby finished his long explanation with a gasp for breath, filling his lungs with air after ranting without a breath for a solid five minutes. He had dragged me out of bed at noon and sat on the toilet as I did my makeup, obviously ready to relieve himself of his secrets. His final outburst made me pause, my orange lipstick hovering over my pouted lips. "And did he?" I prompted, chancing a glance at the boy to my left. My casual tone and question left him bewildered, almost offended at even the simple suggestion. "Definitely not." Ruby shook his head with a scoff, both of us rolling our eyes at each other. I mumbled out an apology simply for the sake of moving on with the conversation, smacking my lips together and leaving the bathroom with Ruby trailing behind me. The twins barrelled past in a storm of chaotic energy, forcing me to stop in my tracks and causing Ruby to run into me. The two of us shared a tired look, continuing to the kitchen where I began rummaging around for some sort of breakfast. Ruby sat at the table, his head in his hands and his mouth finally still, allowing me to pour myself a bowl of cereal with some peace and quiet. "Mijo, I need your help with something." "Can't Selina help you?" I paused my hunt through the fridge when I heard my name, eyes finally landing on the milk as I kept my head in the fridge and waited for Abuelita's response. "No. She's eating." Ruby's groan of defeat meant that I was in the safe. I slowly pulled my head out of the fridge, spoon hanging out of my mouth and wide eyes finding what I had escaped from. "Heh, my bad." I chortled, sarcasm leaking from my fake sympathy as I spotted the sewing kit and bright pink fabric. The spoon muffled my words but my cousin had heard them loud and clear and I could feel his glare on me as I sat at the table. His cold stare barely wavered as I ate my cereal and he was forced to stand on Abuelita's small pedestal. I shot him a teasing wink as I stood and placed my dishes in the sink, eagerly making my way to the living room to get a better view of the show. I dropped down onto the empty sofa with a slight bounce, tucking my legs to my chest and resting my chin on my knees. The longer we sat there the more the dress came together and the better things got. At some point I had pulled out my phone and hadn't stopped taking Snapchats since, my distracting laugh the soundtrack to most of the videos. We were meant to meet Jamal and Monse a while ago to discuss the Cesar issue but now that I knew the big secret, I didn't really care all that much. While Ruby begged to leave I remained content on the couch, shifting around every so often to get another angle of him in his princess dress. His phone had been stolen by Abuelita, so it wasn't that surprising when Monse burst through the front door wondering what the hold up was. "What's going on?" She asked, annoyed eyes taking in the sight before her. I sat up and aimed my phone at the irate girl for a moment before focusing back on Ruby. "I think it's pretty obvious." "Something wonderful." Ruby wallowed in self pity while I laughed, probably enjoying his misery a bit too much. "Great. So, walk me through the moment Cesar said what he said." My eyebrows raised and my lips puckered when I realized Monse had come over for the information I had been told this morning. "Don't worry about it." Ruby's refusal to tell the girl anything wasn't making any sense. Monse already knew what Cesar said, what was the point of trying to hide anymore from her? The kid was making things unnecessarily hard on himself. "There you again." Monse scoffed, back to square one with Ruby. "There you go again what?" The short boy snapped back at, looking more like a sassy princess than anything else at the moment. "Keeping things from me. You gotta stop withholding, God damn it!" I sighed, already tired of the argument. With my mood deflating by the second I rubbed the bridge of my nose and put my phone down as Monse apologized to Abuelita for her language. "You should just tell her." I suggested, throwing my hands up exasperatedly when I became the target of Ruby's short temper. Before I could bite back Monse was pulling Ruby out the front door, leaving me to squeeze my eyes shut groan loudly to myself. "He's a puto sometimes, you know that?" I opened my eyes and looked to Abuelita, sliding myself forward to sit on the edge of the couch and try to catch a glimpse of the duo on the front porch. "Si." Abuelita's casual tone and solemn nod made me stare at her for a few seconds before a loud laugh burst out of my chest. "Bravo." We both leaned in and winked at each other, but our laughter came to a halt when Ruby came running in yelling about Monse was on her way to kill Cesar. He fumbled trying to get the quince dress off his body and I stood up to help, not getting any time to brag about how I had used a Spanish term correctly all on my own. I waited at the door and texted Jamal while Ruby rushed to his room to change, following after him when he ran out the door. Albeit my pace was much more relaxed than his, a part of me hoping that Monse would at least land a solid hit before someone broke things up. We met Jamal on the way and I made sure to stay relatively close to the boys, not wanting to get lost in the dark streets alone. I slowed down as we approached Cesar's house, letting the boys break through the crowd of Santos to reach Monse. I lingered behind, a proud smile pulling at my features when I saw that she had gotten her hands on Cesar. Ruby and Jamal pulled her slender form off of their old friend and I crossed the lawn as they continued to tug her backwards. I didn't even spare a glance at the barking men behind me, too invested in the struggle going on. I stood off to the side, hands slid comfortably into my back pockets, unable to hide my wince when the boys told Monse she was being crazy. "Crazy? I'm crazy?" As expected she pulled herself out of their arms and turned her anger onto them. "Calm down. Breathe." I shot Ruby a pitiful look and groaned through my teeth, his words only making Monse's fury burn hotter. "Don't you patronize me! I don't need you! Any of you!" She pushed Jamal out of her way, her actions making me tilt my head in surprise. It was obvious she was pissed off, but she was about to cross a line. "I was just trying to keep our crew together, but since I'm the only one who cares, you're all dead to me! I'll survive on my own!" Her fiery eyes met mine and a second later she was gone, her angry tirade of hurtful words having silenced everyone. "God damn, you guys pissed her off." I broke the silence after a few seconds, a smile of disbelief turning my lips upwards even though the situation was far from funny. Both boys turned their shell shocked stares onto me but I had already turned and began walking away. "Yeah, and what are we supposed to do about it?" Ruby yelled after me, frustration and worry lacing his voice. I threw my arms out to the side and shook my head. The last thing I right now wanted was to play therapist or life coach. "Not my problem." I called over my shoulder, not bothering to look back at the defeated friends. As I continued my casual stroll down the street my eyes flashed around the darkness and it didn't take long for the shadows to put me on edge. Walking around Freeridge alone, at night, was not a smart thing to do. So, I quickly turned around, slight panic setting in when I saw that Ruby and Jamal had already started down the opposite end of the street. "Hey, wait though! I'm gonna walk back with you guys!" I called out to them, the darkness sending a shiver up my spine and pushing me to lightly jog to catch up. I breezed past the house where all the Santos still stood, chancing a quick glance at them and catching Spooky's eye from where he sent on a ledge. I shot him a quick grin before turning back to the boys, my light jog turning into more of a sprint until I caught up to them. "You know, I've ran more during my two days in Freeridge than I did in two years in Waterdown."

Next Day*

The next day Monse had spent her morning across the street at Jasmine's house in an act of rebellion against the boys, and I been peer pressured into going over there and trying to get her to forgive them. I had meandered over there in a pair of grey sweatpants and a cropped Coca Cola t-shirt, white sandals on my feet and sunglasses covering my tired eyes. "What's good?" I yawned as I entered the front yard, ignoring the suspicious look Monse shot me and stretching out on the steps next to her. Jasmine accepted me eagerly, talking excitedly about we were all going to join dance together. To conserve her joy I remained silent, eyes admiring my white pedicure and not mentioning the fact that I would most certainly not be joining dance. Or any other extra curricular activity for that matter. I just wanted to get this stupid fifth year over with. I had been so close to graduating back home, but when things started to go down the drain school was my last priority. Which left me here, doing an extra year of high school, which was far from common in the US as Ruby had pointed out to me. Despite my refusal to join dance at school, I couldn't help myself from standing up when Jasmine added music to her awkward moves. I bopped over to her, an ear splitting smile lighting up her face as I joined her dancing, not particularly caring if anyone currently around saw me. As I twisted my hips I saw Monse wandering towards the boys out of the corner of my eye. "Damn Selina, you gotta teach me that." Jasmine had suddenly grabbed my arms, her eyes flashing between my face and my hips, effectively preventing me from watching whatever would happen between the three across the street. I smiled sheepishly at her, unsure about how to tell her I didn't know how to each her because it wasn't something I could explain, I just did it naturally. Despite that, I still ended up spending most of my dad attempting to teach the young Latina how to move her hips to the music. By the time I got home Ruby, Jamal, and Monse had made up and I had worked up a sweat. I knew that Ruby would take control over the bathroom tomorrow morning so I did as much preparation for tomorrow as I could before going to bed, ready to fight the short boy in the morning if I had too.

Next Day*

"Selina, let's go!" I clenched my jaw at Ruby's shout, releasing the last section of my hair from Geny's curling iron and quickly unplugging the heated tool before rushing out of the bathroom. If Ruby hadn't taken 45 minutes to perfect his hair this morning I would've been done ages ago, so it was technically his fault we were running late. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed Ruby out the door, both of us calling a goodbye over our shoulders. We eventually met up with Jamal and Monse, the kids abnormally silent until Monse slowed to a stop across from Cesar's house. She stared, as if she was waiting for said boy to make an appearance. She'd wanted to kill him the other night and yet here she was waiting on him, and I was reminded that I couldn't keep up with freshman drama anymore. "He's not coming with us." "And why would you want him to?" I remained silent as the boys spoke in defeated tones, disappointed to be going into high school without Cesar even if they had been the ones to kick him from the group in the first place. Monse ignored them both and crossed the street, Jamal calling out to her and the three of us watching her go. "See, bitches be bonkers." Jamal turned to Ruby as he began to follow Monse, his comment earning him an offended look from me. "And boys ain't shit." I retorted, crossing the street as well. The three of them gathered at the end of the walkway while I stayed further back, leaning against a tree and noting the Impala was missing from the driveway. After a few tense moments of waiting the front door opened, the sight of Cesar making me stand up a bit straighter. Surprise flooded my body at his appearance. I watched him walk towards the group, a small grin appearing on my face. The four of them turned and started down the sidewalk again, Monse and Cesar walking behind Ruby and Jamal. I trailed behind, watching Monse and Cesar with a knowing glimmer in my eyes. Something had happened. "I can't do this. I can't keep a secret." Jamal broke the group silence. "It's gonna make me implode. I don't know why anybody keeps secrets." The stress of his false football career had been driving the boy insane, and if I were to guess I'd say he didn't have much pretending left in him. "There's something I need to tell you." My eyebrows raised in interest when Monse shared a nervous look with Cesar. Whatever she was going to say though was disrupted by the sound of gunshots ringing through the air. The noise made me jump and look around in a panic, looking to the kids in disbelief when they didn't even flinch. ".44!" They all called, laughing meanwhile my heart had jumped into my throat and my hands were suddenly clammy. In all my days spent in Freeridge I hadn't heard or seen a gun, and that was shown in my reaction. I knew I'd have to get used to it, I just hoped it happened quickly. I didn't want to spend forever on edge. "Cesar." A voice that always sent shivers down my spine came from our right, and sure enough there was Oscar in his red Impala. He nodded his head at him and we all came to a stop at the same time the car did. An expectant purse of my lips was the only reaction I had to the boy backing up and immediately getting into his brother's car. Spooky eyed the others for a second and took one last lingering look back at me before slowly driving off. I remained on the sidewalk while the others traversed into the road, all of us watching the car disappear. "What were you gonna say?" "Cesar... we need to save him."

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