#(the son was a pizza delivery guy)

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

Just woke up from the most bizarre dream where my twin and I got kidnapped, and then escaped because the guys who did it just let us call 911 in front of them?? And then we got rescued by just an assembly of our family from across the mulitviverse that apparently existed (including like. demon fighting superhero grandma)

[bloatedandalone04]

Guys My Age

➪the one where you’re bradley’s kid’s babysitter, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting you in every way.

Warnings: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, swearing, multiple orgasms, squirting, hair pulling, dirty talk, dad bradley, age gap, aftercare aw, maybe a bit of a corruption kink (?), maybe size kink

Word Count: 4.1k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley was desperate to speed up guys night so he could go back home. Not only only was his one year old son, Theo, there, but you were, too. And he wanted you. Bad. 

But you were his kid’s babysitter.

His kid’s hot, kind and sexy babysitter he had no business feeling so attracted to.

It was bad enough there was a large age gap of ten years, with you being twenty three and him being thirty three. But you were far too stunning to pass up. He was down bad for you, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He could only hope you felt the same way about him, even though it was so wrong. Bradley knew it would feel so right. 

Jake and the others teased him about being so distracted all night, and Bradley finally decided he was going home and hoping he didn’t make an ass of himself in front of you. He drove home, his body on fire as he pictured you sitting in his living room, waiting for him to come home and relieve you of your duties. 

You were so good with Theo, and it only made Bradley even more attracted to you. He simply couldn’t help himself. 

He pulled into his driveway, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he pulled the keys out of the ignition. He still couldn’t believe what was happening to him. His attraction to you was so strong and intense, it kinda scared him a bit. It had been so long since he felt like this, especially since his ex-wife had left him with their newborn son for him to try and figure out how to be a parent on his own. 

Bradley hopped out of his Bronco and locked it behind him before heading towards the front door and entering his house. It was quiet, so you were probably up in Theo’s room with him. He threw his keys onto the counter before making his way upstairs and down the hall. 

When he reached his son’s room, he poked his head inside and sure enough, you were standing over Theo’s crib, watching him sleep. Bradley leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the sweet interaction of you leaning down to kiss Theo’s head. 

Seeing you be so gentle with Theo made Bradley’s cock twitch in his jeans, your sweetness sending waves of desire through his body. He had to bite down on his lip to stop the groan from coming out, because he refused to have you quit on him because you caught him watching you like a perv. 

Bradley cleared his throat, announcing his return to you. “Hey,” he greeted, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. You turned to face him quickly, and the surprised smile you gave him told him he’d caught you off guard. 

“Hi, Mr. Bradshaw,” you greeted back and he refrained from groaning again at that name. He loved when you called him that, but he craved to hear you call him by his first name, too. “You’re back.”

“Yeah, I just got back,” he replied, giving you a forced smile. “How was your night with Theo?”

Your smile grew as you looked down at his boy, “Oh, it was great. Theo is the sweetest baby ever,” 

Bradley hummed in agreement, knowing damn well your words were true. Theo was a sweet baby, and he had been since the second Bradley held him in that delivery room. “Um, have you eaten? I brought home pizza for dinner, and you’re more than welcome to join me,” he offered, hoping he wasn’t coming off as desperate, but also not caring if he did.

A blush took over your face as you looked over at him again. “Pizza sounds great. I haven’t eaten anything since I was planning on grabbing something on my way home,” you answered and Bradley grinned.

“Great,” he said and stepped aside, gesturing for you to lead the way. As he followed you into the kitchen, he was powerless to stop his eyes from taking in the curve of your hips and the way you walked. He had no idea why he found you so fucking intoxicating, but here he was. 

By the time he leaned against the counter next to the table, he was painfully hard and only a little ashamed of it. “So, um, how was guys night?” You asked as you hovered near the table, your eyes flickering towards the pizza box before looking back at him. 

Bradley ran his hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “Guys night was fine,” he responded. “But kind of boring. I gotta say, coming home to see you with my kid was probably the highlight of my night.”

Fuck, he really did not mean to say that out loud, but he did and now he can’t take it back. And now you’re blushing again and breaking eye contact with him. “Oh, um,” you trail off, dragging your finger along the edge of the pizza box. “That’s really nice. Thank you, Bradley- I mean, Mr. Bradshaw. I’m sorry.”

Well, fuck, he wants to hear you say his first name even more now. Bradley straightened up a bit and smiled at you. “Please, call me Bradley,”

When you looked back over at him, he knew something had changed. Something had shifted, he could tell by the way you bit your lip and looked at him with hooded, dark eyes he’d never seen before. 

Could you actually feel the same way about him? God, he hoped so, because he was about three seconds away from risking it all. 

He stepped towards you, hesitating for a brief second before he lifted his hand and placed it on your waist, and when you willingly turned to face him, he pulled you a bit closer. “I know this may sound inappropriate,” he started and reveled in the way your gaze flickered down to his lips. “But, God, Y/n…do you have any fucking idea what you do to me? Any idea about what I want to do to you?”

Your eyes widened a bit as you pressed your lips together and out of the corner of his eye, he could see the way your thighs pressed together, too. 

Bradley reached up with his free hand and gripped your jaw, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “Tell me it’s not just me feeling this,” he rasped. “Tell me you feel it, too.”

The sound of your breath hitching and the sight of your eyes closing a bit was all the confirmation he needed. Well, that and the way you leaned up towards him with hunger in your eyes. 

“Fuck it,” he grunted before closing the distance between you and capturing your lips in a deep, demanding kiss. His tongue pushed past your lips and delved into your mouth, his hand moving to cradle the back of your neck as he angled your head. His other hand tightly gripped your hip and pulled you forward until there was no space left between the two of you. 

He kissed you possessively, needily, and you returned it with nearly everything he gave, and it was everything he wanted. Maybe more. 

You gasped against his lips and he groaned when he felt your fingers tangle in his hair. He could feel goosebumps form on your skin when he slid his hand under your shirt and placed it firmly on your lower back. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he confessed against your mouth before going back in. He pulled you impossibly closer with both hands on your back, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans as he allowed him to taste you in the way he thought he never could. 

A soft moan left your lips as you tugged on his hair and leaned back against the table, pulling him along with you. “I’ve wanted this, too,” you whispered before kissing him again. “Is this…this is…okay? I mean, I’m your son’s babysitter, I…”

Bradley pulled back, his chest heaving a bit as he kissed the side of your head. Really, was any of this actually wrong? It definitely didn’t feel like it, and you both clearly wanted it. So was it really wrong? “We’re two consenting adults, Y/n. There’s nothing wrong with this,” he finally allowed himself to admit. “Besides, you’re not just Theo’s babysitter. You’re smart, funny, gorgeous, and you make me feel things I haven’t felt in years.”

His hands slid down to the curve of your back, and his fingertips gently dug into the firm skin of your ass before he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“This isn’t just a fling for me,” he whispered as he brushed his lips against yours. “This means something more. Tell me you feel it, too.”

“I do,” you answer instantly. “Of course I do. I think you’re so attractive, but also kind and mature and everything I want.”

Bradley grinned, feeling his body heat up as he pushed himself closer to you. He was sure you could feel his boner by now, but there was no going back now. He was all in. “From now on, there’s no Mr. Bradshaw, okay? Just Bradley,” he whispered as he kissed along your jaw. 

“Okay,” you mumble with wide eyes and wet lips. “Bradley.”

He smirked, “Good girl,” then leaned back down to kiss you deeply again. His hand moved further down to squeeze your ass while his other moved up to grope your chest through the thin material of your tank top. You tasted so good, he was sure he would never get enough. 

“Oh, my God,” you whimpered, grabbing the sides of his neck as you leaned further back against the table, right next to the pizza you both had forgotten about. “You don’t know how hot you are when you call me that.”

Your body fit perfectly against his as he towered over you, his lips unrelenting as he kissed you. It felt like you belonged here, against him. “Good to know,” he grunted as he trailed kisses down your throat and pulled up your shirt until your lower stomach was exposed. “I want to hear every sound that leaves those pretty lips of yours. Every single one. Is that going to happen tonight, babygirl?”

You whimpered again when his fingers brushed against the underside of your bra. “What do you want to do to me?” You asked, breathless as you gripped his biceps. 

Bradley smiled down at you before pressing a much softer kiss to your lips. “That depends on you, sweetheart,” he began, pushing down one strap of your tank top. “First, I’m going to take these clothes off you and explore every inch of your sweet body with my mouth.”

Your quiet moans were probably the best thing he had ever heard in his life, and he continued, 

“I want to taste every part of you, and then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t even remember your own name,” he promised, pulling down your bra strap as well until you were nearly exposed. “How does that sound to you? Do you want that?”

“I want that,” you whined, nodding quickly. “God, I want that, Bradley. I’ve been wanting that for months now.”

“Months, huh?” He echoed. “Jesus Christ, why didn’t you say something sooner?”

You groaned and lifted your arms when he began to pull up your shirt, and you gave him a look once he let the fabric fall to the floor of his kitchen. “Why didn’t you?”

“Fair point,” he muttered, his hands gently pulling your bra off as well, leaving your top half completely bare. He bit his lip and ran his thumbs along the undersides of your breasts, leaning in to whisper next to your ear, “We can take our time then. No rushing this first time.”

You whimpered quietly, tugging on his hair. “First time?”

Bradley hummed against the skin of your shoulder. “Yeah, first time. One of many,” his hands came up to caress your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “I meant what I said, babygirl. This isn’t some fling for me. I want you, all of you, if you’ll have me.”

Your fingers grab hold of his jaw as you nod. “Yes. Yes, Bradley. I want that, all of that, too,”

At your words, Bradley lets out a sigh of relief. He knew he wasn’t alone in this. He knew, at least a small part of him knew, that you were into him, too. 

He grabbed your hips and bucked against you, a small jolt of relief taking over his body, but it wasn’t enough. “Then let’s make it official,” he mumbled, stepping away from you and pulling off his shirt. He unzips his jeans to feel a bit more relief, and when he looked back at you, your lips were parted and your eyes were wide. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” 

At your quick nod, he moves closer again and leans down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He gave it a gentle tug before soothing the sting with his tongue as his hand trails down your body. “Oh, my God,” you whispered, tipping your head back as you moved your hands to his hair again. “Are we really doing this?”

“We are,” he confirmed, releasing your nipple and looking down at you before dropping to his knees. His hands pulled down your jeans, and his eyes darkened at the pretty lace that covered your core from his greedy eyes. “These are cute, but they need to go.”

His fingers rubbed you through the material before he tugged it down and helped you kick them off to the side. Then you were completely bare to him, and you looked even more stunning than he imagined. Than he dreamed of. 

“God, you’re hot,” you moaned, trailing your fingers through his hair.

Bradley laughed. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he stood back up and gripped the backs of your thighs, lifting you up and setting you down on the table. He nudged your thighs apart and guided your feet to rest flat against the service, giving him the perfect view of your soaked pussy. “Goddamn, baby.”

His breathing was uneven as he sank back down to his knees and gripped your thighs. “Bradley,” you whimpered, making him glance up and meet your gaze. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m gonna worship this pretty little pussy in the way it deserves,” he answered, leaning in to lick a stripe up your slick folds and moaning the taste he’s been craving for so long. “All night long, if you let me.”

Then he was going back in for a deeper taste, his tongue separating your slit  as his hands spread your thighs wider. Your sweet moans spurred him on, and he sucked on your clit as two of his fingers dipped inside your tight heat. 

“So fucking tight and wet for me,” he groaned, licking up your folds again. “I could devour you for hours, babygirl.”

“Fuck,” you cried out, gripping the edges of the table as you tip your head back. “Bradley.”

Hearing you moan his name had him grunting, and he throbbed in his jeans. This was getting to be too much, but he wasn’t about to stop now. He didn’t think he could physically pull away from your pussy if he tried. 

Loud, lewd slurping sounds filled the kitchen as he stayed true to his words and devoured you in the way you deserved, and your whimpers and gasps mixed in perfectly with the sounds his own mouth was making. “You’re so fucking responsive,” he rasped, blowing a cool puff of hair across your clit and making your body shudder. “How good am I making you feel, baby?”

“Fuck, so good,” you answered, pulling harshly on his hair. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop, please please please.”

Bradley fucked his fingers faster inside you, making sure to curl them against your tight walls. “I’m not stopping,” he swore, pressing his mouth to your clit. “I want you to cum all over my face.”

A soft cry left your lips as you ground your body against his face until you were coming. “Fuck! Oh, my God! Bradley!”

His eyes were fixated on your face as you writhed against him, and he wanted to drag this out for as long as he possibly could. He curled his fingers with each thrust of his hand, stroking that sweet spot deep inside you as his thumb rubbed your clit with no mercy. “Come on, baby, give me one more,” he fake begged. “I know you have another one in you.”

He went back to sucking on your clit and pistoning his fingers inside you, and he felt the way you tightened around him even more. 

Then you were squirting on his face. 

“Fuck,” you practically sobbed as you soaked his face. Your thighs were shaking violently now, your pussy clamped around his dripping finger as he pulled back with wide, dark eyes. 

While he knew he could make you cum again, he was completely unprepared for the river that flooded his mouth and chin. He was fucking covered in you, and he literally almost came right then and there. “Fuck yeah,” he grunted breathlessly as he pulled his fingers out of you and stood up. He cleaned you from his fingers, then his palm, as he moved to position himself between your still trembling thighs, all while keeping eye contact with you. “Holy shit, baby.”

He kissed you deeply, moaning at the way your tongue licked all over his mouth and tasted yourself on his lips. When he pulled away, he looked down at your wet thighs, and the small puddle that had pooled under you on the table that was beginning to drip onto the tiled floor. “That was the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen,” he grunted. “You almost made me cum from that.”

Your laugh made him grin as you finally regained control over your breathing. “Fuck, I’ve never done that before,”

Bradley groaned loudly, licking his lips and closing his eyes at the taste of you that still lingered on them. He pushed his jeans and boxers down, his eyes ten shades darker as he looked at you. “I need to be inside you. Right now before I lose what’s left of my mind,” he murmured, giving his cock a few much-needed strokes. “Please, can I fuck you, baby?”

Your gaze was locked on his cock as you nodded. “Yes…yes, fuck me, Bradley,” you said quietly as you grabbed hold of the edge of the table. “Right here.”

He couldn’t ignore the way your mouth practically watered at the sight of him, and his ego grew even more. He knew he was big, but you made him feel like he had the biggest dick in the world. He was definitely the biggest you had ever seen, he could tell that from the look you were giving him now, and he felt a sense of pride wash over him. 

Bradley gripped his base and your thigh as he guided his tip to your sopping entrance, and then he pushed inside with one swift movement. You moaned loudly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he felt your walls encase him perfectly. 

He couldn’t wait anymore, not when he felt like he was two seconds away from coming. 

Bradley gripped your hips and set a brutal pace, fucking you hard and fast as you whimpered and clawed at the skin on his neck. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as he fucked into you ruthlessly, the table creaking under each thrust. “Yeah, baby, take it all,” he grunted, looking down to watch the way his cock came out wetter and wetter each time he buried it inside you. “This is what you needed, isn’t it, sweetheart? You needed this tight pussy to be stretched open and fucked by a real man, huh?”

You nodded, then let out a loud cry as he began rubbing your puffy clit, and then you were coming around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” You moaned, your eyes squeezed shut as your body trembled in his arms. 

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, his own body begging for release, but he held back as best as he could. His pelvis slammed against yours as he didn’t let up his pace, and your head tipped back as you let him continue to fuck you. “More, babygirl. I want to feel you cum for me again.”

You whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing your heels against his back. “Fuck, Bradley. Don’t stop fucking me. You feel too good to stop…keep going,”

Yeah, you were pretty much perfect. 

Bradley grunted as he watched your tits bounce with each thrust he gave, and he had to tighten his holds on your thighs as he felt his whole body tense up. He didn’t want to cum yet. You felt too good, too. He never wanted this to end. “You’re mine,” he muttered, his cock throbbing inside you as he leaned down to press a hard kiss to your mouth. “All mine, baby.”

He reached down and pulled your thigh higher on his hip, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. 

“You like that?”

“Fuck yes,” you moaned, your eyes rolling back as you clung to his biceps. “Your cock is fucking huge, Bradley. Feels so fucking good.” 

The filthy words pouring from your mouth only turned him on even more, because you were his son’s sweet babysitter. There was something incredibly arousing to hear such dirty words spill from your seemingly innocent lips, especially since less than half an hour ago, you were his quiet and shy babysitter. 

“Fucking hell. You’re so wet for me, baby, and you’ve got such a dirty fucking mouth,” he growled, feeling the way your pussy clenched around him. “Yeah, squeeze my dick just like that…just like that.”

When you came for a fourth time, he couldn’t hold back any more. Your hands were a bit frantic as you touched every part of him, trying to stable yourself as he fucked you through your high until he reached his own. With a loud groan, he buried himself deep inside you before coming hard. 

His cum filled you up, his thrusts slowing down to weak bucks of his hips as his head fell onto your shoulder. Both your bodies were covered in sweat, and you both were panting. “I think I might have broken you,” he teased softly, peppering kisses along your salty skin as he slowly pulled out of you. “But don’t worry, babygirl. I’m gonna take care of you now.” 

A soft whimper left your lips as you looked down to see his cum dripping out of you. “Bradley…that…that was…” 

You were still shaking and he didn’t blame you. If he came four fucking times in less than half an hour, he’d be on the floor right now. “It was amazing,” he finished for you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your mouth. “I’ve never had sex like that before in my entire life.”

He gathered up your trembling body into his arms and carried you into his bathroom and set you down onto the bathroom counter as he got the shower ready. Once it was at a good temperature, he lifted you up again and stepped under the water with you. 

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, waiting until he knew you could hold yourself up before he began washing your mixed cum away from the insides of your thighs. 

It was as if you couldn’t be away from him right now, as when he stood back up, you forced yourself into his arms again and clung to his chest. 

As the water poured down onto the both of you, Bradley kissed the top of your head and held you close. “That wasn’t just sex,” he murmured, running his fingers through your wet hair as he recalled his words from a few minutes ago. “It was something special. You’re more than just the girl who looks after my kid a couple times a week, babygirl. You’re someone very important to Theo and I.”

You blushed at his words and desperately kissed him back when he leaned down to press his lips to yours. “I am?”

Bradley caressed your face, his thumbs tugging on your kiss swollen lips. “You are,” he answered. “From the second I saw you, I knew there was something different about you. You brought light back into my life and you’re so perfect with Theo. And I intend to keep you right here with me, if you’ll let me.”

You pressed your lips together and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “That wasn’t just sex for me, either,” you say against his mouth. “That was one of the best experiences of my life. From the start…til right now.”

Bradley grinned down at you before kissing you again. “You’re mine,” he repeated his words he said back in the kitchen. 

And the smile you gave him told him all he needed to know, and he leaned back in to kiss you again, and continued to until the water turned cold.

[maviscat123]

PART 2 OF 2. He left the pizza on the counter and took 2 boxes back to his room, leaving the other 6 for his son and his 5 remaining friends. It would take some clever lie to be able to explain away both Simon and Norm's disappearance, but it was a problem for tomorrow. The extra suppressants in his system must have finally kicked in by now, as he was feeling sleepier than anything. He finished off what was his 10th pizza for the night, leaving his gut absolutely enormous. He carefully sat on the edge of the bed once again, this time leaving his gut resting on the floor between his legs from its excess girth.

Now that his mind wasn't focused on his hunger, it finally wandered back to what he had done. He hated himself. How could he do this to three people. He was condemning them with his gluttony. He tried to justify it to himself. His doctor even told him it's natural to eat others. He was a Pred and it was his nature. It didn't matter to him. He knew these people. Even the delivery driver, a man he had never met before, didn't deserve this. They had their entire lives to look forward to and he just changed all that on a whim. Nothing could help them now, and all they could do was wait for the inevitable fate that his belly would bestow on them soon.

He didn't know if he should tell Shane what really happened. How he's been struggling with this ever since he was his age. Would his son forgive him or hate him? He asked himself how he could not hate him. He ate his friends. He ate others. Hell, he would hate him if he was in Shane's shoes. Nothing could make up for it either.

But then again, having his gut so full was like nothing else in the world. He looked down at his gut as he lay on the bed. He could feel every movement, every desperate kick, every pitiful punch. He could just barely hear those calls for help, those vain attempts at bargaining with him. It was satisfying. To have that power over someone. They weren't people anymore. Just food. Why should he feel bad about food? Why should he deny himself such a filling feast? Why should he, the apex Pred, not eat until his stomach is full?

Ron snapped out of it finally, only to notice how painfully hard he was at those thoughts. He could feel his cock swelling under the mountain of a gut that was perched on top of him. He felt disgusted with himself. He was so at odds with himself over how to feel about all this. On the one hand he had eaten these three innocent guys, dooming them to be nothing more than a notch on his belt. On the other hand, he was a Pred and that's what they do. Why should he deny himself that?

As he clashed with himself, he didn't feel that familiar twinge rumble up from the deep pits of his stomach. He went back and forth with himself for a while longer, but soon his gut rumbled again. It was back. The three measly men weren't enough for him. He needed more. He deserved more. There was food right there in his den.

He got up and confidently walked out of his room, not bothering with the housecoat this time. He flaunted his gut proudly as he strutted towards the den eager to fill up his gut more. He couldn't care less anymore about his son's friends. They were in his house. His territory. They belonged to him now. They were just his food. He stomped into the den and lordly displayed his gut as he announced his intentions.

"Hey boys! I'm hungry and I'm having the rest of you for dinner! So, get up and get ready so I can eat ya!"

Shane, Hoss, Wes, Al, Andrew, and Tom all stared at him, their eyes all falling to his gut which was so enormous it hung down past his knees. In their inebriated state they all stared blankly at him, which didn't matter to Ron at all. Instead of waiting for them Ron was too impatient. He was hungry and he wanted them in his gut now. He stomped over to Al, his gut bouncing wildly as he grabbed him and hoisted him up to his mouth. He began to stuff his 4th man of the night into his mouth while everyone else watched slack jawed. Ron was no longer careful or gentle. He stuffed and crammed Al into his mouth like a rabid beast.

Wes was the first to make a move. He got up and rushed for the only door, but Ron simply stood in his way, thrusting his gut forward to knock him back as he chugged down Al's legs. Al's entire body froze as he couldn't realize what was happening to him. He was trapped in some tight, wet, fleshy tunnel that was dragging him slowly downwards. He tried to wiggle his way out but suddenly felt someone grip his shins. He was relieved to get some help, only to realize that they were only pushing him further inside.

As the other 5 watched Al slowly disappear into Shane's dad, Hoss finally piped up.

"What the fuck!?" Hoss shouted. Being the biggest one there, he stood up from his couch to try and stop Ron from eating his friends.

As Hoss went to grab Al's feet, Ron quickly slurped them away and grabbed Hoss' big meaty arms and pulled them into his mouth. He boastfully chuckled as he slurped them down, reveling in the look on Hoss' face as it turned from confidence to sheer terror. Hoss was a big guy, almost 2 feet taller than Ron himself, and over twice as wide. He was a colossal mouthful, but Ron's newfound confidence in his appetite made him all the more eager to have the big brute in his belly. Shane, Wes, Andrew, and Tom all watched as Ron slowly engulfed Hoss' shaggy head. The big man tried his best to pull away, but Ron wasn't letting go. His jaws stretched, his throat ached, and his gut rumbled in hunger as his lips wrapped around his meal's thick neck.

"Mr. P! Please don't do this!" Wes finally shouted. "We're people! We're not food!"

Ron only chuckled as he slurped down Hoss' fat pecs. He responded by patting his gut with one hand as he steadied his enormous meal with the other. Right as Ron's lips arrived at Hoss' own large gut, he had to get some assistance sooner than he normally did to get the big boy down to where he belongs. With great effort, Ron grabbed Hoss' hefty love handles and hoisted the enormous man right above himself. Hoss' legs slammed against the ceiling, but Ron only paid attention to how filling Hoss was already. His head was getting stuffed in his gut now, taking up the rest of the free space among Al, Simon, Norm, and the delivery guy.

The big juicy gut was working its way down Ron's throat while he slurped down Hoss' wide hips. He saw those big, hefty thighs waiting just inches from his mouth and he had to have them sliding down his gullet right away. He kicked his gluttony into overdrive now, wolfing down Hoss several inches per gulp. Somebody was sobbing, but Ron tuned them out. He doesn't cater to food. Why should he care about what some puny snack thinks of his buddy? Hoss' thighs, knees, shins, ankles, and feet all disappeared in 5 solid gulps, stuffing Hoss down into his growing belly. The others could see Hoss' large body curl up tightly around the others inside Ron's gut that was now so large it was resting on the floor in front of him.

Ron licked his lips and turned to the remaining trio, reveling in the terrified looks on Wes, Andrew, and Tom's faces. He waddled his way over to Tom, who was practically vibrating he was so scared. Ron picked him up by his shirt and licked his face maniacally. Just as Tom was about to blurt out something, Ron stuffed his entire head and shoulders into his maw. Tom was the smallest of the group, so after a colossal meal like Hoss, it only took a single gulp to have Tom halfway down his gullet.

He looked over to Andrew and Wes on the other couch while Tom hung out of his mouth. He let out a crooked smile as he slurped up Tom like a limp noodle. Tom barely put up a fight as his waist, legs, and feet all disappeared down Ron's throat without any fanfare or effort from the hungry Pred. The final pair were practically on top of each other, trying to claw away from Ron and his voracious glare.

"W-why are you doing this?" Wes shuddered.

"Because I'm a Pred! I need food to satisfy this big tank and you boys are my dinner tonight!" Ron guffawed, slapping his gut proudly.

"But we're people!" Andrew shouted as Ron loomed over them.

"I eat people!" Ron let out a deep belly laugh. "It's what I do! It's who I am!"

"But we're friends! You've known us for years! We hang out here every weekend! We go out drinking together! You're like our second dad!" Wes sobbed in fear.

"So? You've always been on my menu. Like a can on my shelf, waitin' till the day I pick you out for dinner!" Ron snickered as he grabbed the pair. "You might have thought I cared about you all, but now you mean less than nothing to me. Enjoy bein' in my gut cause it's your new home!"

Not even thinking to consider the logistics of eating the pair, he stuffed both Wes and Andrew's head into his mouth at the same time. Together they were larger than Hoss was and would be quite the challenge to get down. That thought, however, didn't even cross Ron's mind. He was more concerned about finishing his enormous feast than he was about eating it. He still had room. He was still hungry. And he still had two more to eat.

With an enormous gulp, Ron swallowed the pair down to their shoulders. He had to stuff the pair into his mouth for a while to get their shoulders in, but once he did, he started the long laborious task of devouring the two of them at the same time. It was slow but so satisfying for Ron. How they tasted, how they wiggled in his throat, how they gave him that full feeling he'd been suppressing for years. It was a revelation for him. He was so excited to explore this part of himself he'd hidden away for so many years.

By the time he had both their waists in his mouth, he had to carefully rear his head back. Lifting and shoving, gulping and pulling, they slowly sank further and further down into his gut. It was nearing the end, but Ron didn't want this experience to be over. He savored the last parts of them for what felt like hours, but in the end those four pairs of feet slipped past his lips, disappearing forever as they sank down his throat.

Ron just stood there in his den, gut protruding several feet from his chest, resting on the floor in a big, contorted ball of wiggling food. They were all his and he was over the moon to finally have that overwhelming full feeling. All 8 of them desperately tried to move in his gut, but his stomach held them so tightly they could barely move a limb. He played back eating each of the 8 men in his stomach, starting with Simon. He thought about Simon's taste and how he missed most of it because of how desperate he was to get him in his belly. And Norm, how well he paired with the greasy pizza guy. How dumbfounded Al was, how huge Hoss was, how scared Tom was, and how good Andrew and Wes were together. All 8 of them.

But then the realization hit him. Only 8 of them. He miscounted because of the driver. There were 8 in his house, plus the driver. He was missing one. He gazed around the room until he spotted him. Shane, the last one, was cowering behind one of the couches.

"Hehe you thought I forgot about you didn't ya?" Ron maliciously snickered as he approached his final meal.

"How could you do this?" Shane sobbed. "They were my friends!"

"That doesn't mean much to me. You're just dessert!" Ron laughed.

"B-but all those times you hung out with us! Were you just sizing us up for lunch?" Shane shouted.

"Oh yeah. I shoulda done this years ago! I can't believe I've been holding out for so long." Ron laughed as he pushed the chair aside.

Shane scrambled to flee, but Ron slammed his gut into him and knocked him against the wall.

"You're not getting away from me. You're dessert don't ya know." Ron smirked.

He reached down and grabbed Shane's ankle and hoisted him up onto his gut. Shane desperately tried to get away from the hungry glutton, but Ron wasn't about to let his final meal of the night go.

"You keep that up like your friends did. Squirm real hard for me!" Ron chuckled as he positioned his meal. He opened wide and stuffed Shane's feet into his mouth.

"Wait wait wait STOP!" Shane screamed.

Ron smirked as he slurped down his meal's legs, arrogantly playing with his final meal of the night. He had all the time in the world, and he was going to savor this moment. Shane tried to pull himself away, grabbing hold of any bulge his friends made in the big gut he was perched on. No matter how he tried, his legs wouldn't move anywhere but down. His thighs were slowly engulfed and soon he was down to his waist.

Ron grabbed Shane's arms and pinned them at his sides, leaving him powerless to stop him. There was no way out for him now and he was destined to become food. To end up swallowed down into that big gut, cramped into the tight confines of that wet fleshy tomb, to be digested with his friends and end up nothing more than a few inches on his father's waistline.

"DAD! I'M YOUR SON! SNAP OUT OF IT!" Shane frantically shouted.

Ron's devious smirk immediately evaporated. He looked down at his gut, and then to Shane, his son, his own kin, hanging out of his mouth. He could feel his gullet full, his son's legs and torso stretching it out as he was making his way down to his father's gut. He stopped swallowing for a moment, reaching up and grabbing hold of Shane's shoulders in a panic. He began to pull him out, only for his gut to protest immediately.

"DAD!" Shane shouted desperately.

Ron's entire personality came to a clash. He was a caring father, a good upstanding citizen, and a great guy who cared for others. But now his true nature had surfaced. He finally became the gluttonous Pred he was always meant to be. No longer could he suppress his voracious appetites. But then he saw his son's face. His son looked back at him, a tear in his eye, desperately asking him not to do it. Ron couldn't hold back. He began to well up himself as he realized what a monster he had become to the only person he truly cared about. He knew no matter what he did, his son would never look at him the same. How could he? He had eaten all of his friends. He knew the utter dread he felt when he saw his son's face would be the only thing he would remember when he thought of his son. There was nothing else for him now and Ron knew what was going to happen. He tried to stop himself, but his hunger took over. Both his and his son's eyes went wide as he instinctually shoved the rest of Shane into his mouth.

"NONONONO STOP DAD DON'T DO IT PLEASE NO DON'T-"

*GUUULP*

That final gulp rang in his ears, even as his son's head sank down his chest and vanished into that enormous boulder of a gut. His heartbeat pounded in his head. What had he done? How could he have done it? His son begged! Pleaded with him! He was in tears asking him not to eat him. Yet he did it anyway. It was done. His son was in his gut. Swallowed down like a cheap burger.

Ron looked down at his gut. Dozens of bulges were all over it. He could see the faces of his meals all pressed again his gut. A hand there, a fist there, elbows, kicks, hell even all of Hoss was stretching his belly all over. It didn't matter anymore, however. He knew nobody was going to get out. Nobody ever did. The sound of that final gulp would haunt him.

The reality of his new life set in. His son was gone. Nothing more than a memory waiting to happen. The only lasting thing he would do was be a few inches on his dad's gut. He couldn't picture his son anymore, as the only image that would play in his mind were those last few moments he shared with him. Right up until the moment he swallowed him. His mind raced, his legs went weak, his knees buckled, and he fell backwards onto the floor.

His monolithic gut rolled on top of him as he fell on the floor. The colossal weight pinned him down, leaving only his neck, head, and parts of his feet poking out from his stuffed belly. He could barely move but it didn't concern him at the moment. He was lost in his head as his mind raced. The utter regret finally settled in, just as it had every time he relented and let his appetite take over. He whispered to his gut softly as it began to gurgle and churn.

"I'm sorry. All of you." Ron shuddered as he felt the group inside begin to experience what happened to food.

The inevitable began, and soon Ron's gut began to do its job. The movements inside picked up, as did the shouting. He tried to tune it out but its all he could hear. As his gut swelled and swayed, he could feel himself getting aroused. He gasped as his cock throbbed in his underwear, pressing against his massive gut that lay on top. How could he be enjoying this? He was beside himself with grief, wracking himself with guilt for eating them all. Yet he had never been this turned on in his life. Nothing, no hookup, fling, or sexual escapade ever came close to what he was feeling right now. His underwear was already drenched in pre, and he felt like he could blow at any moment.

He wanted it all to end. For the nightmare to be over. Yet it endured for what felt like hours. He knew it had to be getting close now. The inevitable end of his colossal feast. The futility of his food's situation finally setting in despite their desperate thrashing. He had to do it. His cock throbbed at the thought, yet he was tearing up for what was about to do. He finally did what he had been holding off for the last 20 minutes. He could still undo what he did. It wasn't too late. But in his mind, he knew he couldn't let them go. They were food now. He braced himself and let it happen.

*UUUUUUUUURRRRPPP*

He expelled all the air, and let his gut fully claim them. There was no backing out now. He tightly closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to watch his gut slowly go still, but for him he had the unpleasant reality of feeling all his meals slowly stop moving. As the last tremor of movement from his enormous meal shook his belly, his whole body went rigid, blowing the biggest load he ever had as his gut went completely still. He groaned in pleasure, his heart racing as his enormous dinner was complete. Thick cum dribbled down his thighs and onto the carpet, his underwear drenched, and the underside of his gut covered. He was spent. His meal was done. That was it. Now all that was left was digestion. As he stared at the ceiling, his gut began to gurgle loudly. It slowly ramped up, getting louder and more guttural. Like a beast stalking its prey, it rumbled in hunger. It didn't stop either, only getting louder and more ferocious. Wet burbles, viscous churning, and acidic grumbles echoed in the empty house all throughout the night as Ron digested away the biggest meal he'd ever eaten.

-

It was sometime in the afternoon by the time Ron had awoken. His eyes slowly opened as he stared at the ceiling. It all felt like a bad dream to him, right up until he felt the carpet on his neck. He looked around and saw he was in the den, snacks and various cans of beer and other drinks scattered around. He looked down at his gut and that when he knew the nightmare was real. His gut was significantly larger than it was yesterday, although not as big as it was last night. He gave it a light poke and it wobbled slightly on his chest. It was thicker and more pronounced, and it became more round from its previous oval shape. His son and his friends had really done a number on him.

It lightly gurgled, but otherwise kept its shape. Ron struggled to sit up with the extra girth he had acquired overnight but managed it after shifting around. He got to his feet and steadied himself, still a bit woozy from last night. He looked around the den, seeing the remains of his enormous dinner still where he left them. He sighed to himself as he didn't know what to do. His son was gone, and he was alone now. The only thing of meaning in his life swallowed and digested away.

He couldn't contain his hunger. His own stomach ruled his life. How could he not have stopped himself? It was his own son. His own kin. The most important person in his life. And he swallowed him alive. He put his head in his hands as he let out a sorrowful wail, shaking his head in disbelief of what he had done. He had plenty of chances to stop. To undo what he did. But he didn't. He kept going after eating Simon. He didn't stop himself from eating Norm or the pizza guy. Hell, he enjoyed himself after that. Reveled in the looks of terror on all of his meal's faces. Nothing gave him such a high as condemning all of his meals to his stomach. He truly was a monster. And now he had to live with himself.

He swore to himself that he was done. On the name of his son, he pledged to himself right then and there that he wouldn't eat anyone else. He shouldn't put anyone else through what his son and his friends had to endure last night. No longer would he give in to his primal urges. He would better himself to rise above them. In honor of his son's memory, he would endure his hunger.

He walked into the kitchen and saw more evidence of his gluttony from last night. All 8 pairs of shoes, now ownerless, were still by the door. There were still 6 boxes of pizza on the counter that he left for his son and his remaining friends, but they never got a chance to eat them. He opened one up and saw they were still there, untouched and cold.

As the waft of pizza hit his nose, his gut grumbled for breakfast. He sighed and grabbed some of the cold pizza and began eating it, reminding him of his old college days. There wasn't anything else in the house to eat anyway. He finished off an entire pizza once again, but his twinge of hunger was still there. He had tossed the first box aside and opened the next one when the doorbell rang.

Still only in his underwear, he waddled to the door to answer it, his appearance the last thing on his mind. He opened the door and saw a big man standing there looking down at him. It took Ron a moment, but he looked similar to Hoss.

"Uhh hi there. I'm Joel, Hoss' dad. Is he still here? He was supposed to help me fix the roof today and was meant to be home a few hours ago."

"Oh, uh yeah." Ron huffed nervously. He couldn't just tell him that Hoss was nothing more than a few inches on his ball gut. "No sorry he's uhhh..."

Ron couldn't think of what to tell him. He was about to say they left earlier when that familiar twinge of gluttonous hunger nagged at him. He looked Joel up and down and sighed to himself as he knew he couldn't explain away Hoss' disappearance.

"They're just in the den but I think they're passed out drunk still. You can come in and wake him up if you'd like."

Immediately, Ron regretted saying that. Now he was in a predicament as his son was not in the den anymore. He was about to blurt out something to fix it when Joel smirked at him.

"Leave it to me! I'll get em all up no problem." The big oaf said as he pushed past Ron and strolled into the house. "Oh! And I found these keys on your porch. And this pizza bag."

"Oh thanks. The pizza guy left it last night. And Ive been looking everywhere for those keys." Ron lied he closed the door behind Joel.

Ron's gut rumbled loudly while Joel walked into the living room. There wasn't any other way out of this for Ron, so he let himself have just one more. One final one. And then he was done. At least it was a big one. Ron opened his mouth wide, barely wide enough to fit in Joel's enormous head, and pounced.

Joel's loud shout could be heard from outside, before a few loud gulps silenced them all. Ron was on the big man's back, holding himself on his shoulders as he had his enormous meal's huge head in his mouth. His cheeks bulged massively, but Ron had to do this. The regret was there, but his hunger was slowly drowning it out. With a swift kick to the back of his knees, Ron brought down the gigantic dad and held him steadily as he took his first gulp.

It wasn't easy, but Ron managed to work in Joel's shoulders. His throat ached, but his belly rumbled in pure necessity of having this man packed away inside it. He had to have him. He gulped and pulled, and soon those big juicy pecs were in his mouth. It was to be his last meal, and he should enjoy it. It would be an insult to his memory if he didn't. Ron pinned his meal's enormous arms and kept gulping. The taste reminded him of Hoss and drove his hunger through the roof. It wasn't often he got to enjoy a taste of someone twice.

Joel's large muscle gut slipped into his mouth, and soon was working its way down Ron's throat. Joel's enormous head was already stretching out Ron's belly, and soon his shoulders were packed in with him. Ron groaned as his belly felt like it was finally getting fed properly. A huge meal to satisfy that primal gluttony that he hid away for decades. He kept gulping, finally getting the assistance of gravity he so greatly needed to work down Joel's waist and chunky ass. Hoss really was the spitting image of his father.

Down Joel went. Those thighs were so tasty to Ron, and somehow even more broad and thick than Hoss' were. The fight in his gut was on though. Flurries of punches erupted from within, but Ron only chuckled. How pitiful they were for a man of that size. Was that all he could muster to save himself from getting churned down into fat? To be nothing more than a notch for Ron? Men like him deserved to be eaten. Ron boastfully gulped down Joel's knees, teasing his meal and taunting him by poking him and patting his gut. He had come full circle once again, ignoring those feelings he got as he finished Joel off, claiming the enormous man as his own, relegating him to nothing more than a oversized breakfast.

As the large bulge slipped down his throat, Ron grinned as he watched his gut thrash about. He snickered loudly, enunciating his accomplishments to taunt his new temporary guest. He belonged to Ron now and he was going to digest him, just like he had done to his son Hoss. To all their friends. To his own son. He lifted his gut off the floor with some effort and waltzed back to the kitchen, the big squirming ball gut almost the size it was last night. A fine meal like that needed some dessert.

Right as he came to the kitchen, he saw those shoes again at the door. Those uneaten pizzas. All the containers, dishes, bags, and wrappers of the snacks left over from last night. He remembered why he had done it in the first place. How he had to eat Joel to hide the fact that he'd eaten Hoss earlier. The rationality had disappeared when he was in the middle of eating, and his mind had only cleared when he was done. He looked down and sighed to himself. There was no way he was going to change. As much as he wanted it, as much as he owed it to the memory of his son, he knew he was going to be like this for the rest of his life. No matter what he did to try and hide it, to justify it, to keep himself in check, he would always be a Pred.

But he had to try. To not give up. To be better. He couldn't let his hunger win. It wouldn't be right after what he did to his son. To all of his meals. After decades of keeping himself in line, he couldn't just let his appetite turn him into a monster. He was a good person. He knew he was. He could prove it to himself.

He was determined to be better. He was feeling a wave of resolve. He felt like he could walk on water. Ron boastfully pledged right there that he was done eating anyone ever again. He rode that high for a few moments, right up until a familiar loud noise dragged him back to reality.

*GLORP*

That sickening sound sent a shiver down his spine. He looked down at his enormous gut. Joel was panicking inside as Ron's gut began to get to work on him. His confidence dropped to his ankles as he watched his gut wobble and churn, while some muffled screams could be heard inside. He let out a defeated sigh. It was hard to deny who he was.

[chbnews]

Hey, uh, hades just ordered a pizza... how do I get down there?

-david, son of athena and chb's official pizza delivery guy

Heyyy, I’d suggest asking Nico or going to one of the portals. - Chris Rodriguez ♾️

[stop-talking]

I love your work so much! While I wait for your updates (take your time), what other fics do you like and recommend?

Fanfic Recommendations

Okay, so, you didn't specify if you're looking for fluff or smut... or what character... So I'm just going to share All of my favorites. I'm being vulnerable here. Don't judge me.

Mike Schmidt

Cherries & Cream (18+)

"It's a modest holiday. Spent indoors, soft music on the cassette player... oh, and a collection of bad ideas snowballed into a day of sticky situations." - @sameschmidtdiffname

What's One More? (18+)

"The house is all to you and Mike, which is a strange feeling to Mike as he begins to realize how things are changing. But change isn't always a bad thing, is it?" - @sameschmidtdiffname

Josh Futturman

Spilled Drinks (18+)

(Josh is undercover as a slutty ass waiter for a mission, he eventually loses sight of the goal and begs you to fuck him while he's still wearing the lingerie.) - @xcherryerim

Solo Round (18+)

"Josh is sick of meaningless charging, but instead of asking out the pretty, new game store cashier, he decides to take matters into his own hands. again." - @futureman

Could I Pay You... Another Way? ;) (18+)

"You guys know those memes where it's like the delivery driver aggressively shutting down someone's attempt to turn the pizza delivery into some porno? Like "looks like I don't have any money..." "Why the hell did you order a pizza then?" Anyways that's so Josh but he doesn't even realize that the person is trying to fuck him he's just genuinely confused." - @ronniehutch

Good Boy (18+)

"inexperienced virgin failure josh futturman asks the reader over for some 'video games'." @joshfutturman

Derek Danforth

Tangled

"The holidays are a miserable time of year, especially when ones mother won't even talk to them to let them know she's not coming, sending Derek into a breakdown and wrapping you up in the process." - @sameschmidtdiffname

Old Money, New Money (18+)

"Her stepfather, Bruce, who only married her grieving mother so he could swindle them of their money, works with Derek Danforth, billionaire son of the President and grade-A asshole. Bruce roped her into going to a company party, where she ends up running into the man himself, Derek. She decides to just hit it, convince him to fire Bruce, and quit it. However, her plan doesn't go as intended when she finds out that Derek isn't all that he seems." - @ronniehutch

Clapton Davis

Movement of A Major (Cool Guy)

Who would've known that breaking your arm is the best thing that could've happened to you? - @ronniehutch

Billy

Smoking while you ride him (18+)

(exactly what it sounds like) - @joshhutchersonsgf

Peeta Mellark

those eyes, that mouth (slightly suggestive)

"Peeta bakes you cinnamon rolls but can’t fight the urge to feed you…" - @sleepyhutcherson

For the record I only started actually using tumblr and reading fanfics a few weeks ago. I read like every jhutch fanfic available in just a few days, so it's all kind of a blur. I might have forgotten a few I really liked... sorry!! Also I didn't include anything with an unfinished story.

P.S if a summary is in "quotations" I ripped it directly from the author, and if it's in (parenthesis) I wrote it myself because they didn't have one.

[moopermoment]

agent penguinronpa really is the character of all time to be deadass.

they are the most important member of their own island and yet is just some fucking guy, no one knows a thing about them but everyone knows who they are, they are loved by almost everyone and they struggle to see it because of their lack of self worth, they have amnesia, they would do anything for anyone if they needed help whatsoever (a pizza delivery or a rescue mission, doesn’t matter to them), they’re audhd, they’ve managed to pull their bad bitch coworker with their neurodivergent swag, they’ve befriended their own arch nemesis’s crab son, they believe in the inherent goodness of people, they are INCREDIBLY socially anxious, they are the sappiest bitch in the universe, they care about their homeland and loved ones to the point of being possessive, they have an incredibly fucked up and unhealthy hero complex, they are incredibly autistic over their own job (to the point of defining their life and lack of memories), they’ve survived 3 actual danganronpa executions, they know junko enoshima, they have beef with a guy that called their fashion sense boring once in 2005, they’ve tried to break through 5 metal doors with a plastic surf board, they are an emotional crybaby yet so immensely brave, they’ve almost gotten themself killed multiple times, they had a mental breakdown in a VR simulation, they’ve tried placing a giant fuck off robot who is also the headmaster of their own killing under arrest, they are incredibly smart but also stupit sometimes, they’re a sassy little bitch but also a huge dork, they would sooner become a therapist than actually go to therapy themself, they are the narrative’s favourite, they are so immensely kind, they’ve stopped at least one apocalypse, they’ve tried to undoom their island only to lead it and their loved ones to a completely different doomed fate, they’ve met god, they’re even non-binary! reminder they look like this:

[cellu-lightreading]

Uncle Mac's Thanksgiving Glow

“I can’t believe Uncle Mac is making you all work on Thanksgiving night!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t believe it if it wasn’t the busiest day of the year, but it’s not a bad way to spend the holiday. It’s like getting to be with a bunch of families instead.”  The twang in Ben’s voice helped to hide the mix of emotions over the phone. Days like this it was impossible to not think about his family, even after all these years. His parents decided they didn’t want anything to do with him anymore once he came out, and he’s been making a new life for himself ever since. He can’t help but picture being back at that dinner table on Thanksgiving night with his cousins but being at the diner really did help to help the wound. He was grateful for the real love in his life. 

Ben and Lance had a new Thanksgiving tradition of hanging out with this father-son duo who found the restaurant some years ago looking for someone to cook them something special for Turkey Day. The story was sweet, and the dad- Whit- always started his tellings saying “I wish you all could have met my Sarah. She was an excellent cook. Food was her love language, the same way it’s all yours.”

Lance wonders sometimes if it was exactly the same as two feeders, but the results are pretty damning. Whit was big like a parade balloon when we first met him. His weight was in the mid 300s, and he carried most of it in a round gut that walked into every room before the rest of him. She also seems to have completely beat out any impulse of picking food beyond whatever sounds good and filling (and probably fattening). On the other hand, when you look at his son Walter, it’s clear that Sarah was good about keeping her boys fed. He was a puffy guy who had a magnetic attraction to anything sweet. He was noticeably smaller than his dad though; his weight was probably still in the 200s. 

Whit and Walter started coming to Uncle Mac’s their first Thanksgiving without Sara. They said they wanted a homely holiday with all their favorite traditional foods: mashed potatoes, stuffing, and tons of gravy. They enjoyed watching regulars file in on the holiday, watching them hug on their way too and from dinner with their families. Friends crowding around the TV screen for football. The waiters treated them with all the care and love in the world. Most importantly: everyone loved their food. Whit liked hearing all the customers with their Thanksgiving plans. 

“This year we have to go to have dinner with the in-laws and the food is always brutal. It’s always some fad health food that their trainers told them will be good for them. The stuff isn’t meant for human consumption, I tell you. It’s disgusting. Might as well sneak out for a real meal so I won’t be hangry like I was last year.”

“My wife has me on a diet right now, and apparently she was serious about not letting me cheat for Thanksgiving because she had something about every morsel of food on my plate. I shouldn’t be eating this, that’s too much, don’t over do it. Like damn, this is the one day on the calendar where it is okay to over do it a little.” 

The men of Uncle Mac’s reminded them of all the joy that Sarah served them with their food, and now there was a place that appreciated fat men like them. 

After spending an evening at Uncle Mac’s, food became an emotional touchpoint for Whit and Walter. It brought back memories of happy times and made new happy ones. Food was like a constant source of warm fuzzy happy memories that they could press over and over again. And without the guided hand and home cooking of Sarah, the boys were okay with eating anything. Gone were the feasts with balanced meals and in came all the trash they could possibly want. Stacks of pizza boxes, platters of ribs, and quesadillas and burritos wrapped in aluminum foil. Delivery and take out became their best friends.  It didn’t take them long until they were regulars at all their favorite restaurants, and the cashiers knew their names. 

They’re having fun. For the first time since Sarah’s death, they are having a good time. If food is what brings them together, then so be it. Whit loved bringing home giant bags of burgers if it means getting to see his boy smile. Walter liked encouraging his dad to have a big dessert as a midnight snack before bed. Neither of them ever take the bold step of shooting down a food idea. An extra couple boxes of wings with their pizza? Why not? A stop for ice cream on the way from the grocery store? Sounds good. 

But after a while, these aren’t treats anymore. It’s the new normal. Walter and Whit systematically eroded their willpower until food was their focus all the time. They never said no. Walter bought something every time he passed a food court or a vending machine on campus. Whit was always eating the snacks in the break room. 

Day after day, week after week, the calories went in and they didn’t disappear. Whit and Walter’s chunk frames started packing on pounds at breakneck speed. The waiters at Uncle Mac’s are experts at seeing guys get big; their estimates said they were gaining somewhere around 15 pounds a month. They were spiraling out of control, faster than they could even register. It seemed that every time they stopped by, they were always squeezed into shirts that couldn’t cover their whole belly and pants tight enough to outline the rolls inside their upper thighs. Raul thought it was cute that they still tried to squeeze themselves into the normal sized booths even though they could only fit if they sat on the same side and pushed the table back.  

When the coats came off in the spring and they saw just how much rounder they had become from months of binging, the waiters at Uncle Mac’s were in  a dilemma. It was obvious that no one was willing to be honest to Whit and Walter about just how much they had grown. They theorized that their friends were apprehensive to tell them how fragile they were emotionally right now. After all, the most important woman in their lives had died just a few months ago, who were they to say ‘move on with your lives and put down the fork, you’re comfort eating yourselves into immobility’?” According to their inside straw poll, not them. The vote came out five votes to four, so they all agreed to keep their mouths shut.

Lucky for the losing side of the argument, reality finally crashed through by the next time they came in a couple months later. Someone was doing a presentation in one of Walter’s classes and they had to use a different room for the day. Unlike the sturdy industrial metal ones he was used to, these were cheap plastic with attached armrests and desks. It was still wider than a lot of other chairs with armrests, so Walter thought he stood a good chance of being able to squeeze in. He leaned back to drop his body into the cup of the chair and got stuck. Really what happened is his love handles were too wide to slide into the chair. Thinking it had just been a fluke, Walter tried to push on the creaking chair to let him settle in. He was closer, but nowhere near the bottom. The creaking of the chair got louder. Walter slowly slid down and the plastic around his ass was starting to bend and warp. Snap! Walter looked down and a big new hole appeared. Snap! Snap! Snap! Now there’s multiple holes and one of the armrests and has almost entirely popped off. Crackle! Pop! Thud! The force of Walter falling to the floor shook the whole classroom from the chairs to the walls. All of the eyes in the room began to focus on him. The window of the door was filled with people peering in to find the source of the thunderous vibration. 

When Walter came home and told his dad, the older man couldn’t help but feel bad as he searched for the scale. How could he have let things get like this? He looked down at his own body and thought about how lucky he had been to not have to go through something just as embarrassing. The yoga ball sized gut that sat in his lap all day was growing just like the pillows around his arms and moobs that kept him from ever putting them down at his size. Whit slid out the scale and let Walter step on. After a few tense seconds and a brief struggle to see the result past their billowing bellies, Walter read out:

“Error. Guess we’ve outgrown this old thing too, huh, Dad?” 

Whit nodded in response. “Yeah, I think this has a capacity of around 300, so we’re going to need something pretty serious to replace it.”

So they went into the supermarket and stood on the industrial scales before the crowd bustling around them. The dial was big enough for them to see with ease and big enough for anyone passing by to get a glimpse of the number too. Walter stepped on the scale and the needle went flying into the 300s, landing squarely at 376. Whit took a deep breath before taking his turn. The number couldn’t be any worse than the feeling of the weight on his chest when he lays on his chest, he reasoned. The step onto the platform revealed the number: 487. Just one good meal short of 500.

“Walter, I’m so sorry. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of us and now look at us.”

“But Dad, you did take care of me. So maybe we’re not fitness models, but I’m okay. You kept joy in my life when it wasn’t a guarantee at all. If you don’t believe me, then we’ll have to go somewhere people really know us so they can tell you.”

Walter brought his dad to Uncle Mac’s and explained the whole situation. The waiters were frankly relieved to be able to talk out the guys’ weight freely. Now they could offer actually useful advice.

“There is nothing wrong to look for something comforting in the aftermath of a traumatic event like the love of your life dying. Unhealthy would be picking up drinking or crime or trying to suppress the emotions until they explode.” Taylor explained as he took their order and added an extra appetizer to the order. 

“And there’s nothing wrong with getting big and being fat. We happen to like guys that way, and we’re not the only ones.” Lance said as he dropped off their food. 

“The real problem,” Ben insisted as he passed out dessert, “is that you lived in denial for such a long time and tried to pretend you were just the same as stick thin guys. You need to live fat guy lives. You need to get clothes that fit and stop trying to sit in flimsy chairs. Listen to Raul and stop trying to squeeze in between things like your ass can’t knock things over before you know it exists. Even if you tried dieting, which I don’t think will work that well but let’s assume, you won’t be thin tomorrow. You still have to live in the giant bodies you have right now. You might as well get used to it. You’re fat guys who enjoy their food, live it up.”

Whit wasn’t entirely sure he trusted the guys at Uncle Mac’s first, but he decided to give it a try. He started small by buying a seat belt extender for his car (because it had been a long time since he got that to buckle). Then he tried using two chairs to support his weight and avoiding plastic seats. When he went a full week without hearing something creak under him, he was convinced. He invested in buying new big and tall furniture for his house, rearrange everything to get rid of the narrow corners, he even switched out his belts at work for suspenders and found out that he was a lot more comfortable and ate more when he didn’t have a belt digging into him all the time. With just a couple alterations, Whit has turned the house into a haven for the two fat boys who call it home. 

Cool air and the smell of stuffing rolled around again just three months later. Thanksgiving reappeared and the waiters were looking to see all their favorite faces. When Walter and Whit waddled in, Raul gasped. It was the kind of transformation that gainers could never get on purpose. They were gigantic. Their faces had gotten so inflated, they almost looked like different people. And when they ate, it was like they had unlocked different people. Gone were the timid guys who casually worked through half a chicken as a snack. Now they mowed through the food like true pigs. If something managed to spill out their mouth, they were coming behind it with a piece of bread and licking their fingers. They couldn’t get enough no matter how much they order.

Ben and Lance looked on as they observed what had become of the timid two who had walked in the year before looking for a little TLC. When Whit popped a button off of his shirt, a wide small spread across Walter’s face and that was the moment they knew. Walter was beaming with pride watching his dad get so big. Whit smiled back at his son. These were two more of Uncle Mac’s pigs, forever changed. 

Two Thanksgivings later, Walter and Whit were waddling through the door once again with bright smiles on their faces. They said hello to everyone they saw, now knowing the names of so many of the other regulars. As happy as they were, the sweat forming on their brow in the cool November air was proof that the distance from their car was not such a casual trip anymore. A space on the benches in the waiting area appeared for the pair of them.

Walter is now one of the biggest guys in the whole restaurant, and people treated him like the massive superchub he was. It’s an impressive feat to cross the 600 pound mark before the age of 23. The only reason he seemed to stick in some people’s minds as smaller than he actually was, was because he always came in with his dad. Whit is so big now, every step seems like a triumph. Immobility is knocking on the door all the time and there’s no telling when it will come. He still wouldn’t miss being at the diner though. 

Lance and Ben took care of their old friends and let them chow down as the food came out. Their orders were too big to fit on the table anyway, so at least this way they have time to sit and chat while they eat. 

“I can’t believe you wake up every morning and still drag your 750 pound body into work everyday. That’s dedication.” Lance said. 

“Well I like what I do, and besides how else are we going to keep food on the table if folks don’t go to work?” Whit responded. 

“This is his coded way of saying that he doesn’t want me at home taking care of him,” Walter said. 

“What do I need him home for? He’s not that much better than me at being able to pick things up off the ground or walking long or medium distances. He’s a young guy who has better things to do than hang around his old man like start his career.” Whit explained. Ben couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ben, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Would your dad put your life on pause like that?”

Ben’s eyes opened wide. “Oh I wouldn’t trust my dad’s opinion on anything.”

“He raised you. He must have done a decent job somewhere along the way. I bet he’s proud to have a son like you walking around.”

“My dad cut me out of his life some years ago. I haven’t heard from my family in forever.”

Whit cupped Ben’s face in his hand and said, “Well know that I’m so very proud of you. I’m glad to have you as my family. I know you’re busy at work, but know you’d always be welcome at our table for Thanksgiving.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time son. Now be a good boy and get your folks a glass of the sweet potato pie milkshake,” Whit said.

Ben laughed and said, “Yes sir. Comin’ right up.”

[fluideli123]

[IMAGE ID: User @yikes077 replied: Did Deadpool want to be a hero? He specifically spent 2 whole movies avoiding the x men, not wanting to be a hero, and actively being bad at being a hero / END ID]

I wanted to answer your reply in a separate post since I had a lot I wanted to explain! For those who want to know the original post this was asked on, here is a link!

For a short, precise answer: Yes, Deadpool wanted to be a hero.

But if you want an response that answers your curiosity and more? I'm more than happy to explain all three movies and how they build up and showcase Wade Wilson's Guide To Wanting To Be A Hero But Never Being Able To Achieve It.

It all started in the first movie in the very first act in which Wade threatens the pants off a pizza delivery man he was paid to make apologize and rethink his life choices. This was because there was a young woman who was being affected by the guys stalker tendencies. The young girl, looking at Wade's hard work for getting the job done, calls him her Hero.

Now Wade immediately deflects, refusing to be under that title because, "I'm just a bad guy paid to fuck up worse guys."

This explains how Wade originally viewed himself before he was forcefully mutated. He doesn't see himself as a hero because he's a bad guy. In his opinion Heroes are good, they don't go about things the way he does, which is threats, blood, guts, and stirring shit up at a merc bar.

Later on, when he discovers he has Cancer and is told he can not only be cured but become a Hero, he cries it out and than leaves in the middle of the night. Why? Because in his eyes being a Hero is saving the people you love and he was saving Vanessa by leaving her. To keep her from the ugliness he oozes with his terminal disease. He chose to do something he deemed Heroic for the reasons Heroes do.

It's seen very frequently that Heroes will sacrifice something they cherish in order to save something else, especially if that other person means more than what they sacrificed. Being Heroic is all about doing stupid shit in the same of love. Spider-Man did it, getting revenge for Uncle Ben. Hell, if you've ever seen The Crow (1994) Eric does everything in his power to bring a bunch of assholes to justice for the shit they pulled. Even Death Sentence (2007) applies!

Is it Spider-Man's finest moment nearly taking that shot to get revenge? Did Eric spend his time correctly instead of getting himself killed? Did the father really need to get the rest of his family killed for his prized son? You can have your own opinion on it, but at the end of the day when you do something for the sake of others, no matter how fucked up it is and how much it sacrifices everything, it is a version of Heroism.

Heroism isn't pretty and can't be fit into perfect boxes because that's just against not only human nature, but the very act of complex Heroing itself. To be a hero it's about being between a rock and a hard place 24/7, being the cause for lives lost and lives saved. And if you think Heroing is entirely selfless than Miles Morales would have to be kicked from the field. He does everything for the people he loves, to make the world a better place for them.

So, Wade goes and gets himself mutated. He does it for Vanessa, to make life better for her. He doesn't see her to make it easier on her and himself, because the thing is that Wade Wilson hates himself even before the mutation.

He doesn't think he's worth a damn and crawling back to someone he became a monster to save is like the hardest fucking thing to do. One, because you're scared shitless of their reaction because you care about it. But also just, because will you be hurting or helping? Wade dances around Vanessa not because he's being an asshole but because he is fucking paralyzed by the thought of hurting her, seeing the hurt he's already caused.

In the second movie because he was witnessed literally saving Vanessa's life which is blatant Heroism 101 despite still believing he isn't worth shit. Because, my beloved, dear, scrumptious reader, self hatred affects people a shit ton and when they place a title in high regard and believe they are so much more below it, unworthy to even reach it because he "is incapable" being the stereotypical hero. Of course he's going to deny it. It's like being denied you're loved, you don't feel like you should be because you feel like you've done nothing to earn it.

But Colossus hasn't given up on him, Wade has been trying but he isn't like the other heroes. He doesn't understand the No Kill rule, he doesn't know how to defuse situations without being an ass and he sure as fuck doesn't fit the public image of what a hero is in the MCU. So, yeah, you're right, he is actively bad at being a hero. But a specific label of hero. A specific ideal. An expectation he's incapable of reaching because it means removing half if not all of himself.

That doesn't mean he doesn't want it, though. Because if he doesn't than why try at all? Why try to help Vanessa? Russel? His family? He fucks up on the job in the second movie to PROVE he isn't worth the hero label, that his existence actively goes against it. Using my example from before, it's like doing something actively bad just to prove how much you're unlovable.

If you want further explanation on how this shows up in the third movie, I recommend this post I made.

But either way, I hope this explains how Wade wants to be a Hero but actively sabotages himself and doesn't believe he can be because he's aware of all his faults and so do others. Because, in the end, Wade cares and tries to do something about it. He genuinely does, and I think that's meaningful in a way he isn't able to accept as a character currently.

[gumballavocadoharry]

Habitat:

*Mentions of self harm, mental illness, bipolar disorder, abusive family, emotional and mental abuse, violence, angst, depression, abandonment, PTSD....etc.*

"It's been three days now."

"We'll it's not a surprise. They always do this." Beckett, the middle son of the Styles family, looked towards the door. Maybe he wanted his parents to enter through the front door, even though he knew they wouldn't. Like he had said, it wasn't something new. In fact, it was habitual. Beckett looked to his sister, Kinsley, then to his younger brother, Chase. He sat flank over the lazy boy, swaying his feet back and forth in a muzzling beat. Shaking her head, Kinsley just stared blankly out the picture window of the living room. She never stared out at anything really, but it was a habit she grew into whenever her mind led her into deep thought.

But Beckett already knew what she was thinking. Three days ago, they're parents had escaped to a vacation by the ocean for some romantic time alone. No one thought much of it, except that Mom and Dad- Harry and Luna- were actually going to spend some time together alone- something they rarely did these days. The siblings tried to see this as a much needed getaway for their parents, but a nagging shady compulsion kept creeping up in them, like the sudden pangs of morning sickness. Like its same nature, it held this gut wrenching vile inside of it- an expectant slither of uncertainty to swim through them. By then, Beckett's high hopes had faded along with the sibling's honorable expectations of their parents. Chase didn’t like that it did, but he- like the others- remained hopeless to change that. Kinsley called it. "Alright guys, it's been over three hours now, I'm just going to order us a pizza or something- we have to eat."

"Should we call the police?" Beckett and Kinsley looked to Chase. "No…. let's ride it out and see what happens for today. If they don’t' show up by tomorrow afternoon, then we'll call."

Kinsley grabbed the phone and started dialing the number for the pizza place. Her fingers hit the buttons harder than she wanted. Looking around, she hoped that her brothers wouldn't see this little outburst, but instead feel more focused on the blunt situation. "Toppings?" Beckett looked up and blinked a few times. "What?"

"Toppings? What toppings do you guys want?"

"Whose paying?" Kinsley sighed. "I am, Chase,"

"Then I'll take mushroom and green pepper."

"Pepperoni and olives for me."

Kinsley called in the order. When asked for toppings, she stopped mid order for a moment and thought. "I'll take three pizzas- one with pepperoni, green peppers and mushrooms, the second with pepperoni and olives and the last with pepperoni, green olives, mushroom and sausage." Chase and Beckett looked at each other. "Thank you, bye." She turned and looked to the boys. "I figured, who knows how long they'll be gone, we need food for more than just today. So, we all get our own pizzas, make sure you save them."

Grabbing her car keys, Kinsley turned to the door. "I'm going to get us some drinks- they're cheaper when you buy them in store than with the pizza. If he comes before I get back, here's the twenty. It'll be thirty minutes, so I think I'll be home before then." Handing Beckett a twenty dollar bill, Kinsley left the house, got into her mother's car and drove down the street- Chase watching the car speed down to the right.

Beckett watched Chase stare for a moment, before rounding him up from off the couch. "Come on, let's clean up before dinner." Beckett assigned Chase to vacuuming, while loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. Beckett set the table carefully, arranging the plates neatly in the center of the fork, spoon and knife and then set the cups adjacent over the plate a bit. A knock on the door sounded and soon the delivery man was there with their dinner. Beckett paid the man, snagging an extra three dollar tip from his own wallet. "Smells good," Chase called, tying the cord of the vacuum up over the vacuum's cord holder. "Let’s eat-"

"Not before Kinsley gets back. She bought us this meal, we should thank her and wait till she comes home." Chase furrowed his eyebrows a bit. The sound of his stomach growing only seemed to acerbate his irritation of having to wait. A bit uptight at the sight of Beckett not even opening any of the boxes until Kinsley would come through the door. Not even five minutes later, Kinsley shows up. Stuffing her keys into the pocket of her overalls, two plastic bags that sag, brush against her legs.

"Two liters were on sale. Pepsi and Sprite for anyone one who wants it, and orange juice for the other option." Chase ran and wrapped his arms around Kinsley. Beckett stood and watched with a mawkish smile, before joining his arms around Kinsley. The siblings stayed embracing each other; Chase letting a small tear drip onto the fabric of Kinsley's shirt. Faint like the drop of dust bunnies hitting the surface of the ground.

Symbolic without intention- the siblings needed each other more than ever. All they had was each other; leaning more and more on their distinctive abilities to guide themselves to the safety of freedom that they all were looking for- even if it was in different directions.

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

It was that April. The Styles children were at the table eating their breakfast, when their father entered into the kitchen after sleeping in all day the day before. "Hello Kiddos!" Harry swooped down to press kisses to each of their scalps. "Good morning," pressing a kiss to Luna's cheek while she stood at the stove, frying the last strip of bacon in the pan.

"What's for breakfast?"

"Bacon and eggs. There's also toast on the table too." Luna held her tongue until it became obvious that Harry wouldn't mention it. "How's the job hunt going?" He looked down and fiddled with his finger nail. "I'm still looking." Luna kept her focus rigid on the pan, even though she knew Harry didn't even look at her once to answer. "I hear they're hiring at the brewery. The one on the west end of town,"

Harry swallowed his orange juice. "I'll check it out." Luna let a small sigh escape from her nose. Harry always said that. And he would always follow through. And then he would either get the job and muck it up or be an inappropriate fit because his 'lack of focus,' as they would say sometimes.

Luna didn't so much resent being the sole breadwinner of the household, as much as she resented Harry being home too often. Luna, a cooperate planner for her company, used to work in the comfort of her meek little home office on her laptop. But with Harry home more than the kids, Luna packed up her laptop and stored it away in the long front drawer of her snowy white desk and switched into a narrow little cubby in her office. It wasn't her cup of tea perhaps, but she accustomed herself to it with the other option of babysitting someone who was old enough to fend for themselves.

"Have a good day at school, kids! Love you!" Harry yelled from the car. Beckett was the only child to wave back to Harry, before watching him pull off into the road- the main street in front of the school.

"Maybe he'll get this one and keep it." Beckett caught up with Kinsley and Chase. The three trailed down the same sidewalk that branched into a pathway that led to the front steps of the school. The sky still held a pinkish crimson and the sun was singing down through the branches of trees around the schoolyard. Marking a glow around Beckett's face, Kinsley turned around to make the hazel greenish of his eyes.

"I don't think so. You know Dad- never able to keep a job for more than two or three months. He's been through two jobs already this year." Beckett swallowed and then bit the side of his lip for a bit.

"I know… but Mom said that they're hiring at the brewery, and Dad said he'd check it out." Kinsley looked over to yard of the school. "Dad quit his last job just randomly… he was doing so well and then… well," Kinsley sniffed. "Well, I don't know about Dad, but I do know that once summer break starts, I'm going to look for a job. Maybe it'll help- at least with me, you and Chase. Mom seems set though. It's Dad whose penniless right now."

"Yeah…. I guess." Kinsley swallowed. "With my own job, I can even save for college next year."

This shook Beckett more than he wanted. Kinsley, like most kids her age, were thinking of college. The fresh years of new opportunities, hopes and dreams. But Beckett wouldn't tell Kinsley that he didn't want her to leave him and Chase. But, he wouldn't stop her either. If she decided to leave, then he would let her.

Beckett wrapped an arm around Chase, escorting him to his class only upstairs from most of his own classes. Chase- like on the schoolyard- kept quiet. Silent as a mouse, without so much as a peep from his lips. No one really knew how Chase felt about everything. Keeping his thoughts to himself, Chase seemed to blend in with the crowd. Never standing out, yet never going unnoticed either. Beckett noticed him, even when he wanted to be unseen. Chase- like Beckett- didn't want Kinsley leaving either. But, he didn't hear it the same way Beckett heard it. Chase didn't even hear his father being jobless the same way his siblings heard it.

Not because of bleak innocence or naivety, but because his mind trailed elsewhere. He felt this attachment towards his siblings. They filled or attempted to fill a piece inside of him that had been broken by the bounds and gags of time. The betrayal and the hurt that had seared his heart open, was now stapled together by the hands of his elder siblings presence. Even when Chase wanted to shake Beckett's arm off from his shoulder, he didn't. Even when he didn't want it, he still did. He needed it.

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

Beckett trailed on to his classes, the conversation still fresh in his mind. Maybe Dad would get a good solid job and keep it this time. He hoped. He felt he had to. Beckett knew that he was the only one who shared his stanch optimism. None of his siblings did and neither did his mother. He couldn't blame them. Like Kinsley said: He hadn't been able to keep a job for more than three months at a time and when he would get it, he either would quit them or get fired. It was humiliating. Beckett hated being the son of a man who could barely provide from his family, due to his own lackluster thoughtlessness. While all the other kids could be proud of their fathers, how could Beckett appreciate such a one of his?

The very thought gnawed at him like maggots on rotten flesh. Sweat begin to bead Beckett's head. Then came the stomach knots. Determined to keep his breakfast down, Beckett refused to think of it any longer. He begin to question why he even waved to Harry anyway. He would fail… that was obvious. But, Beckett still couldn't grasp why. Why couldn't his father just hold down even a simple job just for the remainder of the year? It wasn't like that though. Beckett knew it- no matter how he portrayed it to everyone else, he knew Harry would sabotage his chances again. So, Beckett with what he could, strived to keep the cargo carts of the train in their proper tracks. Broken rails or tracks wouldn't halt even just one wheel from the train. As long as it kept chugging along, it would be okay. And that's what Beckett reminded himself of. A plan B was the same as a steady pace. Except, he didn't know what he would do. But, he was satisfied with the hopeful promise he made to himself of reassurance in some way. He didn't what, but he hoped it would be clear soon.

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

Chase let the door slam a bit behind him. The living room and kitchen lights were off, but the dining room was the light that rang through the downstairs. He didn't see it coming up from around the corner; the living room held a picture window with the window seat that let you catch a quick glimpse of the right corner of the living room if the blinds were somewhat open that evening and the lights were on. As Chase stepped into the dining room, his feet jolted themselves from taking anymore steps forward.

"Hey Champ!" Chase gave a faltering smile to Harry. "Is Mom home yet?" Harry shook his head.

"Nope. But you got me- why don't we do something together? Wanna play a board game or something?" His father's demeanor so cheery and fond, but to Chase, tasting- even just a lick of it- would be a poison. Desirable like a candy apple, but with sinister aftertaste. Chase could only gawk at it and only helplessly imagine that it could be so delicious. 

"Oh, that's okay...I have some homework." Giving a slight smile- an arch more like in his lips- Chase took himself from the doorway of the kitchen and up the stairs into his bedroom. 

Harry sat against the chair, a small furrow crinkling in between his eyebrows. He sat for a moment fiddling with his fingers, before uprooting himself into the kitchen for a drink.

The front door opened again- Beckett appearing through the doorway. Wiping the grass specks from his shoes on the welcome mat, Beckett gave a quick 'hello' to Harry before darting to his bedroom. Harry begin to wonder if a secret was brewing between the two brothers; mannering in the same fashion of bypassing him and hiding in their bedrooms.

Chase felt this thick sense of calm wash over him from Beckett's presense. Tiptoeing from his room, down the hallway to the left, he gave a small knock on Beckett's door. "What?" Chase slowly creeked the door open and made his way to Beckett's bed. "I just wanted to see you," Beckett raised an eyebrow. "Well, here I am." 

"Where were you?"

"After school detention. Kin's there too. I forgot my english assingnment and Kinsley was caught with her friends in the girl's bathroom chatting, which made them late for class." Chase raised his eyebrows quickly. "What's up with you, though?" Chase looked down at floor. He wanted to focus more on tracing each line in between the oak wood panels of Beckett's floor than answer what really sat in his mind. He gave a quick glance up to Beckett, making his brother understand what he didn't want to pull out of his brain. Beckett, raising his eyebrows quickly, turned around to his closet, hooking his jacket onto the hanger.

"Dad...." he whispered. Beckett turned to his bed and sat next to Chase. Wrapping his arm around him, he snuggled him into his side. "It's okay Chase.... it'll be alright, I promise." To Chase, it seemed so sure. Beckett had a way of making everything sound so rosy. But, when it came to his father, it could be anything but that. It wasn't always this way; Harry had his days when fun was just all he thought about.

A fond memory Chase liked to keep was a four year old him with his siblings and Harry as they ran up and down nearly every aisle of the toy store, putting anything they could get their hands on into the basket. Harry bought every last toy from that cart and then ice cream on the way home. Chase never remembered the faint intense conversation his parents had that night, they way Kinsley and Beckett remembered it. Luna never made their toys go back to the store. Instead, she opened a second family account at the bank the following weekend and the event was never spoken of again.

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

Beckett walked down the stairs, meeting Harry's gaze with a fast glance. "Hey Dad," coming closer, Beckett hugged Harry, "sorry, I had something on my mind when I came into the house." Harry gave a smile. "That's okay.... what was on your mind?" Beckett tilted his head from right to left, fastly. "I forgot my English assingment, and so I had detention today." 

"Aw, well... that happens sometimes." The jiggle of keys and then the squeak of the front door opened. Kinsley walked in, hugging her books to her side and her backpack slinging nearly off her shoulder. "Hey Honey!" Kinsley glanced to Harry and smiled. "Hey Dad," Taking in a deep breath, Kinsley shuffled her position- readjusting herself to where the weight of gravity wasn't sinking so much into her spine.

It was like this for a bit: Harry, Kinsely and Beckett sat in the living room, silently watching TV, while Chase was upstairs practicing guitar. Harry slunk in the lazy boy, still trying to figure out the ususal but unversed interaction with his youngest child. Chase and him were two peas in a pod for a time. Chase- the first to run into his father's arms after a long day at school. They'd dance, sing, make cookies together even if Harry burnt them a bit. It everything he ever wanted in a typical father- son relationship. It was perfect, till it wasn't. And no matter how hard Harry tried to reason with himself: puberty, misunderstanding, bad day, bad mood, grew into a more quiet than what Chase already was- it never seemed to fit. It never made sense- as if it ever would. Harry let the sting of cool air burn his eyes- not blinking back the small tears forming in them. Harry learned to mourn a child that he didn't actually lose, but still lost in someway. He didn't know why... but he promised himself, one day, he would understand. And they'll fix it and build it back up again.

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

If it wasn't the ten o'clock slam of the front door, then it was the impeding guant look that was spread all across Luna's face. Hanging her keys on the rack by the door, Luna squeezed her neck, stretched it back to where her eyes shot up to the celling, then bent it down, where her eyes were at the floor. Kinsley sat in the lazy boy, flipping through channels- turning it off once her mother entered the room. "Hey,"

"Hey, Mom." Kinsley rubbed her heavy eyes and was on her way upstairs. "How was school?" Kinsley turned to see her mother. Haggered and bleached like she had been sundried in a burning boiling pot. Kinsley bit the corner of her lip. "It was good."

"Anything unusal happen?" Was this her mother's chance of trying to make conversation? At this hour? Kinsley sucked down the urge to roll her eyes; snatching any remaints of her exsasperation to snap at Luna. "I got detention- stayed too long in the girl's room, talking to my friends." Luna nodded slightly. Kinsley didn't even bother to give even a curve of a smile. She just trailed up the stairs leaving Luna to hear the faint slam of her bedroom door.

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

It couldn't have been more than two weeks in. Harry was actually at work, caculating the sales of the latest beer shipments, when it happened. Harry caught this thought in his head; a chug test with all the other factory guys- sitting around slurping down beers themselves- to cheer him on, as he downed four, then five then seven, then ten. A caffine type of adrenaline. A high that didn't seem to come down from Harry, even if he was unaware of how it still lingered through him for several days. Waking up with a hangover type sleepiness; needing an eight hour nap, just for the energy to wake in the morning. By afternoon, feeling like exspresso was injected into he veins, Harry strolls out of the house to wherever he choses to go.

The sheer pink in Luna's face when she recived the call. Making a deal with the boss, Harry wasn't suspended- but forced to telecommute from the moment on. The flushy pink soon turned to blazing red. If it wasn't the slam of the front door after she brought Harry home, it was the folders being slammed over the counter. She didn't speak a word to Harry on the way home, but did expect some type of gratitude notion for saving him from himself. Luna barely breathed a sigh by Harry. It was credible of how much anger she was filled with, yet kept it so contained- the slightest suggestion of it- besides the obvious- didn't even exist. Storming silently into her office, Luna looked- scurtinzed the bulletin board for the little sticky note reminder she had hung only the week before. The little nudging note of hope, that Luna might be able to return to the homey little office she once engaged in. Reading the note over and over again: Tell Pete about telecommuting.... 

Luna violently snatched the note so hard from the little thumbtack it hung on, that a piece of the yellow sticky note still lingered around the little needle. Shoving the paper into the trash, Luna slammed herself down into her chair and buried her head into her palms. She wanted to cry but couldn't. She felt like it.... but no tears squeezed out. Luna believed this was the occassion she could treat herself to a good little cry. She even envisioned how the tears would fall neatly down her cheeks and drip off her chin and onto her black pencil skirt. But..... nothing. No tears, no crying. So, she tried anger. Luna was full of it from head to toe, but couldn't even find the strength to scream or holler even a little bit. Sure, she slammed the door, threw her folders over the kitchen counter and snatched the note from the board and threw it into the trash before throwing herself harshly into her chair. Rare reactions- sparse from the unusual. Luna barely ever made a sound. She knew that what she felt entitled to and what she deserved, where very different from how she actually felt.

In fact, she felt shame. Shamed at the reaction of slamming this and that around, sliently taking her rage out on such useless objects. So, that's why she wanted to cry. But, Luna still felt shame from that too. Even soppy tears would wash away the shame of rage she allowed to be exposed. Heck, Luna didn't even feel that much shame either. In fact, she didn't feel much of anything now. Just nothing- hollow and empty like an open nut. No flavor or sentimental taste. Luna didn't know what to feel, so, she felt nothing. Deep down, she felt something, but it wouldn't matter anyway. Nothing would change. Luna could get angry, she could cry, scream, yell, rip her hair out.... but it would all stay the same. A tear finally threatned to spill- just like Luna wanted.

But, it stopped. Not enough lubricant in her eyes to let that little tear fall all the way down. If that tear fell, no one would hear it. So..... Luna quickly wiped it away, like it never even existed.

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

Luna knew where this came from. All too well did she understand the luggage she carried around with her for all her life. It underlined something in Luna after she had received the call from the hospital a few years back on a fall night in October. Her mother, Diane, had finally passed away. This wasn't a shock to Luna- she had gotten a call before that very month, that her mother wanted to see her- she was dying already then.

But, Luna chose not to. It wasn't because of a painful image of her guant and frail mother lying helplessy in her hospice bed. But rather because she felt no attachment to this woman. Confused with why her mother even wanted see Luna after all these years was a mystery in itself. Luna couldn't even feel sorry for the reality that her father wasn't even with Diane during her final days like she would've wanted. Luna felt indifferent to this- possibly even a bit smug- that her mother didn't get what she wanted. She had nothing and no one there by her side except the tubes of her IV and monitors.

After everything she put Luna through- her and Luna's father- it was the least she could expect.

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

Luna was a surprise baby. On her father's end she was. For years, her and Luna's father, Simon, tried over and over for a baby. A year went by, then two and three years, then five. January rang in with a somber despair for the couple. The baby they hoped for, now seemed like a faded dream. Diane decided she would visit the clinc one day. Tired of wondering why and never knowing the reasons, finally bubbled to the surface in a determination.

Never able to visit one before- her husband insisting that they could take this on themselves and that there was no need for medicine to interfere in their quest for a family. Finally fed up, Diane waited for Simon to leave for work, before taking the next bus to the clinic. 

All tests were negative. Everything was done: pap smears, pelvic exam, mammogram, heart exam, all the way down to scalp and toes. Diane was perfectly healthy. A near perfect uterus and reproductive system. A jolting thought ran through her like lightning. Diane couldn't let her mind wander in the direction it was striving to go in. She was fertile. The problem.....Simon was not. Explaing the situation to the doctor, he suggested Simon take testosterone. "Maybe it'll boost his little fellas." Diane nervously chuckled along with Doctor, who seemed proud of his little 'lighten the mood' context words. Diane figured a good laugh would be worth more than what Simon was going to offer. He would never go for the idea, no matter how medical accurate it was. He'd probably be mad that Diane even went to specialist in the first place.

On the bus ride home, a small tear escaped Diane's eye, then another- slowly dripping to the rubber floor like a sheltered type of springtime rain. Diane thought of home- she didn't want to be there. To walk into the home where her desire for one of the most exspensive dreams she had, would not be fulfilled. At the grips of her husband's hands, Simon would never share the same judgement for the opportunity the way she did. Letting the bus pass her neighborhood; strolled over the small hill that led a straight shot into the city, Diane found that maybe a drink would ease her. A bloody mary sat neatly in front of her as she took in the chatter of the bar. Not one to drink so openly, Diane didn't think to care anymore. Two bloody marys later and soon, a tall brawny man about her age, sat down next to her. 

Even to this day, Diane didn't understand exactly what it was about that man that enticed her so much. But she went for it anyway. Shoving her diamond ring into the pocket of her dress, Diane and this man came to a hotel and spent the rest of that day together. Diane still liked to reimagine the way his thick fingers ran through her brunette locks. The way he sweetly kissed her body, tracing his lips up and down her belly. His burly body pressed against hers; heaving against each other like clapping hands. Out of breath with her lipstick now smeared, Diane rolled over and sat up. Grabbing her little pink and yellow dress that had been thrown over the floor, and shuffling her little wedge flip flops back on, Diane straightened her hair- combing her fingers through it to neaten it, before kissing the man goodbye and catching a taxi to home.

It was a month in when the pangs of cramps hit Diane. Spotting, but no period. No problem she thought. Maybe just a stomach bug. Next month introduced the morning sickness. Even the smell of eggs seemed to make Diane want to vomit. Simon watched as his wife's face would turn green with everything. Running back and forth to the bathroom- sometimes to throw up, other times to pee. Diane gained her appetite a week later when she craved a hotdog with chocolate syrup drizzled over it. Simon's face begin to turn green this time as he watched Diane eat the whole thing in nearly one bite. Combing her hair that evening while Simon was nuzzled under the covers, it struck Diane like a hot searing slap across the face.

She was pregnant. She knew she was- Diane couldn't possibly mistake the symptoms. But it wasn't so much the pregnancy that shocked her. It was who had gotten her pregnant. Simon still remained infertile, but Diane was now forced to think long and hard to what happened. The man- the burly man from the bar a two months ago. He was the father- she was of it. He was the only other person she slept with. The nine months went by quickly as it seemed to Simon. But to Diane, it was long and drawn out. The guilt and fear eating her alive. Simon would find out; a paternity test would make the truth become squeaky clean and she couldn't avoid it. Diane's baby girl was placed over her chest. She took in the deep aqua eyes she had and the ginger pink lips. Like a beatiful china doll, she was perfect in every way. And Diane couldn't deny the affection she had for her. Luna. The Latin word for a rich night sky with a beaming bright moon. "Hi, Luna, Come here, Luna." Testing it out like how an owner would for their new pet.

As Diane cuddled the baby in the nook of her arms, Simon entered the room. A flat exspression unlike the cooing estatic one he carried from seeing a baby; covered in blood, mucus and whatever else, being pulled from her mommy and placed over Diane's bare chest. 

Diane couldn't meet his eyes. "I named her Luna.... I know how much you loved the name when I brought it to you....."

"Seems fitting 'you' named her..... she's not my child." Diane swallowed. "Um..."

"DIANE!" She cramped up. Holding the baby girl tightly in her arms, Diane felt the tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Shaky breaths soon filled her lungs. Finally meeting her husband's angry face, Diane broke. "I-I-I'm so sorry....."

"You're sorry?" "Yes. I-I-I don't know what happened...."

"Really? You don't know what happened?! For God's sake- you ran out with some other guy and Luna is his kid!" Diane couldn't speak. "Is he here?! Where is he?! Do you know him?!" Diane shook her head. "Diane.... you better say he attacked you or I'm leaving!"

"No Simon! Yes, we went together.... It was after my appointment with the gynocologist- I went to one shortly after you went to work- and I was perfectly fine! I could have children- you're the one who can't! He suggested you take testosterone, but I knew you wouldn't. Simon, you didn't want it- you didn't want to do anything! You can't expect kids to just fall from the sky and into your lap! I wanted this!"

"So now it's my fault?!" "I never said that..."

"You didn't have to..." Simon sighed. "Diane?" She looked into his eyes again. "His. Name."

"I don't know... we met at a bar and after a few drinks... we went to a hotel and...." Diane could feel Simon's blazing stare. "we spent the day together. I forgot his name."

Simon snorted. "You don't just forget your lover's name.... dumb slut." "Simon!"

"You are one! God damnit, Diane! What the hell?!" Diane's lips quivered. Listening to Simon take in a deep sigh, she felt like water was filling her lungs. The shame- her face red as a tomato. She did want this.... no matter what price.... Diane wanted it to happen. 

"I'm sorry......."

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

Nothing was the same from that day on. Luna's birth- a day supposed to be celebrated with such cheer and glee- was one of a painful hars memory that overshadowed her coming into the world. Simon chose to stay. He didn't want word going around of his daughter- the baby he took home from the hospital- not even being one of his flesh and blood. So, he didn't say a word and only stayed for the latter reason. But Luna still wasn't loved by him. She wasn't about to be loved by anyone.... not even her own mother either.

Simon hated Diane because of her unfaithfulness and Diane hated Luna because in her eyes, her birth ruined her perfect picket fence marriage. The baby she had known to love in the delivery room, was now the vain of her existance. Although, Luna was never smacked around or called out of her name.... she was just ignored. As if she didn't even exist. And somehow, that hurt worse. 

If Luna gained a scraped knee that needed bandaging or a tummy ache that needed soothing, she would get none of that. Her cries- even as a small infant- were ignored. Diane changed Luna when she felt like it or she would feed her when it was easiest for her. Eventually a three week year old Luna got the message. No one was coming for her. 

At five, her teeth were perfect. Pearly white, straight, zero cavities... she had to- who would take her to the dentist? Granted, there were appointments made for her; social services was the last thing her parents wanted to deal with. But, it wasn't too often. Luna craved for Simon's attention. But he brushed her off and did what he wanted. So, Luna would run to Diane. "Luna, I'm busy- go away." So, she went away. Luna would jump off furniture and 'hurt' herself. A wail would crawl from her, but one answered. Luna would get straight A's. But no one noticed- they didn't care. Luna- sixteen, and not one of her proudest moments- pretened that she was pregnant.

"Luna. If you're pregnant, then you have to get a job and figure this out- I'm not in the mood right now." And Diane just walked away. Simon said nothing and just continued watching 'The Price Is Right.' Heartbroken, Luna ran to her bedroom and decided that she would give up. No more tricks or gimmicks.... nothing else. No one would help, no one would care, no would love her. Luna learned to accept that.

Day after day, Luna would see Diane though attempt to fetch Simon's attention and love. "Diane, stop blocking the TV!" or "What do want?" Harsh and unforgiving; symbolic in how rotted their love was by now. Luna wondered why Diane stayed- why couldn't she be the one to leave? Diane- slaving and worshipping the ground her husband walked on- not from love but desperation. She made a mistake and was willing to pay whatever the cost just to be loved again. Diane missed the warmth of her husband's arms and linger of his gentle words. She devoted herself hopelessly to gain them again. A silent promise she made to herself. Luna would be shoved away while Diane would be making Simon's favorite dinner or massaging his feet, but without any cognizance from him. It was the same old patteren in their house: Diane would feed for Simon's affection. He would ignore or berate her. Diane would be reminded of why: the mistake that cost her everything. She would then blame Luna and leave her without her love. Simon hated Luna, because she wasn't his child.

Eighteen year old Luna left her home and ran to the next city over for a fresh start. College became her routine. Luna loved the little dorm room she had just three levels over the library and the science lecture hall. A sunkist peach color, matching the white window panes and door jams. A mellow yellow bedset with sprinkles of pastel pink and blue was something Luna was particularly proud of. The very first thing she had bought with the money she made from working in the college library. It was soft, cottony and kept the same serotonin vibe from the very day she laid eyes on it.

It was her second year; freshman days when Luna's hair had reddish streaks through it, dark cherry red was her favorite lipstick shade for a night out and matching maroon nails for an extra good day after hours when everyone was sat in their dorms or they pulled an all nighter in study hall. But it was second period when she met Harry. A shy young man, chocolate curls that hued in the sunlight or from the blaring beams of the sun through the arched half fan windows in the library or the lunchroom. His dimples reminded her of Hugh Grant- a sugary hospitable gentleness that rang through them with every smile he flashed. Luna- barely even knowing him at the time- felt a safety with Harry.

Harry- charming, gathering every form of attention around him. Some good, some bad. Professors would either give a nice and polite 'hello' to him or they would stick up their noses and shuttle past without even making eye contact. It never bothered Harry... at least not in the way it bothered Luna. Never a people pleaser, she never made trouble either. She would get herself up and drag down the halls to even the most boring classes she had because, they still mattered to her. Harry had Luna's English course and would sometimes tickle her toes with his foot whenever they sat across from each other. Luna- enthralled and flatered by this affection- she didn't understand why he was gnawing for hers so much.

Their lunch period sycned together and then eventually, Harry would at the library everyday. Reading up on his finacial studies, Harry would be there from late afternoon to late evening some days. Luna would blush everytime she made contact with his green eyes and he would dart back with this playful smirk. Luna would give a small polite smile- one she thought to be just plain polite and conducted- but lat on to be more playful than she wanted. But... it was no accident. Luna knew it to be unhealthy to retain the way her breath became shaky and jiddery like she had just ran across the entire room five times. Or the way her heartbeat bounced up and down like a rubber ball. Her face would sting like she had spilt her pants or fell down a flight of stairs in front of a crowd, and her palms would sweat and make the grip she had on the books she was stocking, slippery and sticky. And then a book slipped from her hand as she was standing on her tippy toes to place it on a shelf a few spaces higher than her head.

Squinting her eyes and ducking her head down a bit to make the pound of the book hitting more bearable, it never happened. "Whoops!" A husky voice said. Opening her eyes, Luna locked hers into Harry's. "You alright?" Luna blinked. "Oh yeah, yeah.... thanks. I'm so clumsy." Luna internally slapped her forehead for being so dumb.

Harry chukled. "Happens to me all the time.... stocks and bond books are super thick, so when they hit my head- I'm shocked I don't get knocked out." Luna let herself chuckle. Her eyes sparkled to Harry. Like glint diamonds that gave her these baby doll like stares. The tension had been building for awhile, and Harry just couldn't resist. Neither could Luna, no matter how hard she tried. Harry leaned in like a whisper and then softly put his lips to hers with a passionate lock that lasted for nearly two minutes. Luna let her heart flutter and sync with Harry's in that moment. It felt like kindered spirits took form and shadowed into a musk of themeselves. 

It stroked on their inner passions that they locked inside for each other and collided into a whirlwind of lust and enamored affection for each other. Luna craved and lived for the way Harry would gently stroke her hair as she would drift to sleep in the crooks of his crossed legs. Harry's cheek kisses on rainy cold winter days when all Luna could think about was how empty she thought herself to be. Harry accepted Luna even more than she accepted herself. She would give dove kisses and gentle strokes over his face, but sometimes words became fumbled. They never came out the way Luna wanted them to.... they never came out at all. Luna would try hard to form the words- the emotions behind them to mix into this bubble of admiration for the man she loved, but nothing came out.

Luna understood why. Spending so long, hiding her feelings- her deepest heartaches and sorrows of life. She couldn't remember how it felt to smile out loud or to whimper even behind the barracade of her dorm door. Trapped with seemingly no escape from the chains of her hollow soul, Luna could never grow to love this side of her. But Harry could. Still, Luna felt he deserved better. Harry didn't. Harry kissed the floors she walked on and licked the air she tasted. Luna loved Harry's little quirks; focusing on the little crumbs of the desk- rearranging them into little piles before sweeping them into his palm and shaking it into the trash bin. Days where midnights were Harry's afternoons and he'd stroll Luna into the park for a moonlight picnic or a trip to the store for ice cream because he caught a craving. Harry would be super affectionate- showering Luna in suffocating kisses all over her face and big teddy bear type hugs over her body. It was like an adrenaline rush of love whenever his warmth would wrap around like a fuzzy sweater in the break of cold.

She needed it. She needed Harry. 

It was shortly after college when Luna and Harry tied the knot. Becoming steady in their careers, Luna soon found Harry lagging behind. It was two years and then Harry lost his job. Quit because he decided he wanted to study marine biology instead. Luna- stuffing her bleak hope inside- encouraged her husband to do what made him happy. His studies didn't last and it became apparent- neither did his other jobs. Then Luna fell pregnant. Stifiling down the anger and bitterness, Luna continued working until she no longer could- her belly being too heavy to sit at her desk anymore. It was during her seventh month when Harry came home with a new job. Harry held onto it all the way up until their next child was born.

Two kids, full time. Luna couldn't hold any more loads than what she was already carrying. While Harry got to graze from job to job without a care in the world, Luna was stifled with holding down both the fort from home and her work. She chose to telecoummute after Kinsley was born, not bearing the thought of being seperated from her child for even a second. 

Luna could recall that one Thursday evening when Harry stumbled in the house- drunk and now jobless. As high as the steam was pouring from Luna's head, she bit her tongue and chose the silent treatment. So enraged- silently and carefully perhaps- Luna stormed upstairs and into her and Harry's bedroom where she stuffed all the clothes and items she wanted to carry with her into two suitcases. Shoving them under the bed, Luna was shaken from her thoughts when a small cry was heard from Kinsley's bedroom. Scooping her up into her arms, Luna sat her three year old daughter in her lap and pulled out a 'Clifford The Big Red Dog' book.

It was during that particular story time when Luna was reading Kinsley to sleep. Beckett was sound asleep in his crib and Harry was downstairs drinking while reading some papers from his ex job. The quietness just floated into Luna. It set the mode from frenzy houswife mood to chill bedtime mommy. As Luna closed the book, Kinsley was fast asleep. Her monotone voice was soothing to her little one's eardrums, enough to make her snooze into the soft touch of her mommy's arms. Luna set the book down and just held Kinsley. She held onto her tightly like she was slipping from her grip. Pressing Kinsley's little head to the hollow of her breasts, Luna let the world just swish like waves under their feet. Pulling Kinsley back into her sight- gawking at her with such pride; sweet cherishing hopes of what Luna had pictured with her first child started forming in this very moment. She felt brave- brave enough to lean foward with her lips puckered aiming for Kinsley's forehead......

But she couldn't. Luna didn't know what it was: the rattling memory of not being kissed herself or the uncharted territory of doing this for her own child herself without the natural incline to do so without blinking an eye. It brought shame to Luna- like she was doing something wrong. No one was there to tell her it was right; natural as the feel of fresh blooming spring air aginst the forearm of your arms. A guilt rose through Luna- angered at not being able to plant a simple kiss to her own child's forehead and feeling ashamed to want to do so. Like it wasn't something she earned... or deserved. Pulling Kinsley slowly away from her, Luna set her back into her bed, tucking the covers around her. A tear wanted to spill from her eye, but she shoved it back up into herself, not daring to let even just one tear hit the floor. 

Tiptoeing from Kinsley's room, Luna kicked herself for her weakness. Steading herself against the railing of the stairs, she met eyes with Harry. She would never know- even to this day- how he understood how she felt. Stretching an arm out for her, Luna fell into it and let a few tears drop. Everything he had done before then didn't matter anymore. Only the gentle wisps of his breath were all Luna let herself feel. In his arms, nothing could break in between them. Like a safety net of some sort, held Luna tightly even when she couldn't hold herself. She let herself fall into her husband's arms and never wanted to break out of them.

It was early the next morning, Luna unpacked the suitcases. Looking over to the nightstand with her and Harry's wedding picture, Luna thought about last night. And for this reason, the desire to tear that apart didn't exist anymore. 

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

Luna gathered herself from the chair and wiped her face- her hands searching for any residue tears that might've escaped. Dry. Just the way she wanted it. Luna cleared her throat and sheltered herself in the bedroom. Glancing over at the nightstand picture of her and Harry, Luna sighed and rolled over, not leaving the room again until dinner time.

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

"I think it's time to call the police," Beckett appeared through from the kitchen door, shortcutting into the living room. "it's been too long now." 

Chase scratched his head. "You really think so? Shouldn't we give it another day?" Beckett shook his head. "No. Not this time... something could've actually happened to them this time." This worried Chase. A panic shook through his gut. What if something did actually happen to his parents? The guilt of accusing them of being irresposible if the worst were to have happened would be too much for Chase. His view of them- twisted and curved in different places. Already fragile like a fine string of fabric, the break in it would be their obtuse and obscure indifference to worrying their children to brink of insanity. 

"I think we should wait some more." Kinsley interrupted the inspiring tension in the room. "Why? It's-" Beckett checked his watch, "been nearly a week. This is ridiculous!" Kinsley raised her eyebrows in agreement. "I know.... this happens all the time. I hate to say it but-" She sighed. "let's wait just a few more days and then if by next Monday they don't show, we'll call the police. They've been gone longer than this before..... it's not unusual." 

Beckett licked his lips and slowly nodded. "Yeah..."

"I hate this! Why can't they just come home!?" Beckett sympathized with his little brother. "I know Chase.... I wish they'd come home too."

"I'm going to see if that one Chinese place delivers..." Kinsley excused herself upstairs, leaving the boys on the living room couch. Beckett wasn't aware of the frown sprawled across his face. "Beck..." Beckett looked up. "What's going to happen to us?" Chase leaned against his brother's arm. Beckett wrapped his arm around his younger brother and just stared off into space. "We'll be okay..." He finally spoke. The words echoed into Chase's head. He wanted to believe that. And for awhile.... he did. But it wasn't.... it would never be okay as long as he still kept the memory of the day his life turned around inside his brain- replaying over and over like a recording of his nightmare.

Beckett was like Harry. More mature, wiser, understanding, smart.... collected. Never prone to these outbursts, but rather a steady head in the tornado winds of danger. Beckett had nerves of steel.....something he never knew he would appreciate at his age now. Chase quietly went upstairs, Beckett's eyes on him- he could feel them. They bored into the back of his head like beaming headlights. Maybe Beckett felt responsible for watching Chase wander up those stairs by himself.... or maybe he was just as scared as he was.

Chase found himself on his bed, dazed and wondering if he was asleep and that this was all some lucid dream from staying up a little too late. But as the clock ticked by; the only sound in his noise free bedroom, Chase felt something inside him drop. Anger. Throwing and thrashing his pillows all over his room, internally screaming at Luna and Harry for abandoning him the way they did. Then his screams became loud, but muffled into the pillow he slept on every night. He hated his parents for this. Hated how distant his mother could get... hated how crazy his father went. The person he loved more than anyone else in the world, let him down- brutally betrayed him.

It was Harry's fault that he slept with his teddy bear every night; shoving the bear closely to his face to feel safe again. All because he didn't have it. Chase wasn't safe. And Harry took it all away from him. The cozy warm feeling of Harry's arms, now made him dizzy and sick like he'd been on a carousal a thousand times. How his father never changed, but worsened. Sitting back while watching everyone pick up his pieces off the ground. And Chase saw that now. The man he loved; everything about him being made of magic, was now a curse that he learned to live around. He had to learn to adapt if he chose his life. And it was during that one Christmas.... he learned it the hard way. How life can be fun and exciting, could turn into a hellish dizzy daydream that you can't exit from.

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

It was during winter break. The children were all too excited for school to be done for two weeks and for Christmas to be right around the corner. Harry had been given a week off from work, while Luna still had to put in her ovetime to gather up the wish list budget from each of the children. Bored from being stuck in the house; too cold for sledding, to humid for ice skating, Harry took notice. A ride around downtown and then a quick stop for some hot chocolate he thought. Rounding up the kids, hustling their coats and boots on, Harry and the kids gathered into the car- slowly pulling out of the driveway before peering onto the snowflaked covered street, no other car in sight.

The city seemed whimsical. As the car made its way around the city, the snowflakes began to pour down harder. A chilly rain- melting on the windshield as they hit. Harry glanced through the rearview mirror to see three little heads enjoying their day of fun in the snow. And then Harry turned back. Spotting this snowflake, nothing too particular about it, but it gnawed at Harry. Keeping track with it, they passed the Starbucks and zoomed father and father away from their home and deeper into the city.

The adreniline picked up. Harry pressed the gas harder. The car picked up speed from every angle. "Daddy...." Kinsley warned, squeezing her seatbelt tighter. Harry jolted from one corner to the next, keeping steady with this one snowflake that he couldn't lose sight of for a moment. His foot pressed the gas harder and turned another corner, nearly sliding into a stuck out truck. "Daddy!" Beckett yelled. "Daddy! Stop!"

"DADDY! STOP! YOU'RE GOING TOO FAST!" Kinsley screamed. Harry- focused on the snowflake didn't slow the car down... picked up in fact. 

Chase, screaming crying in the backseat. Unable to force his father to slow the car down, the fear begin to become all too real for him. "WE'RE GONNA DIE!" He screamed.

"Dad! Pull the car over! Stop the car! Stop Dad! STOP!" Beckett, gripping his seatbelt and telling Chase to tighten his. Laughter soon became tears and screams. But Harry still kept chasing that snowflake.....right into a lamp post.

As the smoke cleared, so did everyone's voices. The front car totaled, but everyone else was fine. Harry and the kids were rushed to the hospital. Under the pretense of just 'an accident' no charges were filed against Harry and that was that. Luna was called; rushed to the hospital and took everyone home while fishing out money to repair the car as a trade for half the Christmas budget. But presents were the least of the children's concern. Kinsley and Beckett refused to talk to Harry, but it was Chase- still in shock- didn't even acknowledge his father. "He could've killed us..." He said, one night while he was still awake. His father, the man who meant everything to him.......his protecter, nearly killed him. Killed them all, even himself. Reckless, callous, horrid.... were all the words that swirled around Chase's head. 

Even when Kinsley and Beckett listened in on the screeching argument their parents had over the event; Luna verbally threatning to leave him, but instead, made him pay her back the money she had to spend on the damage. Chase sat in his room, holding himself crying soft tears. Reaching for his teddy bear- he last used it at five- Chase now held it close to him, trying hard to remember the fond memories with it, instead of the suffocatingly horrific nightmare he was living in. 

Beckett and Kinsley- already protective of their little brother- became even more sharp eyed over him. Chase didn't mind it. He stayed close to them more so anyway. A silent agreement they all made at Christmas dinner when they exchanged smiles with each other- scorning any sights from their parents. Luna bit her lip, cheeks flushed as she glared angrily at Harry while trying to finish the ham she had on her plate.

Chase would walk past Harry; say 'hello' and then focus on himself. He wouldn't crawl into Harry's arms anymore for storytime, or ask him to kiss his scrapped knee. Chase, didn't even want to be alone with Harry. No more single shopping trips, unless one of his siblings or Luna was there. No cookie baking parties alone, no trips to the park, or to the cafe around the block.... no car rides. Nothing.

Chase would only try to forgive.... but he knew he never will. He could never forget what happened that December. No one could.

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

Although Harry was responsible for his recklessness, he wasn't all to blame. There was something inside him that couldn't help itself. He held no control over his own mind and body most of the time. Becoming a part of normalcy for Harry, but keenly unaware of how abnormal it became for everyone around him. Blissfully ignorant, but well meaning, Harry made more problems than solutions. Harry, before meeting Luna, would never tell her about the many girls he slept with. Giving himself to ones he did or didn't know. Once sober of this, Harry let the weight of guilt and disgust pound onto his shoulders like barbells. And he carried it with every step he took; walking around the city, no matter what he did, the guilt lingered like a bad odar. Until the next high, when all Harry could think about was how everything he touched shimmered or became sparkly and echoed like halos circled around it, invitingly.

Harry, at nineteen, snuck into the backyard of a stranger's home and used their hose to shower himself off, getting him arrested. Or when the police finally caught up to him: shirtless, giddy and swinging on the playground's swingset, oblivious smile spread over his face like he was a kid in an amusment park.

Harry escaped with parole and community service. And from there, his arrest record was clear. But it was one thing that stayed the same no matter what. His evaluation. "I suspect Bipolar One Disorder." The psychiatrist said. And Harry did indeed have the disease. "No I don't! I feel fine!"

"Mr. Styles.... you're very sick. You are Bipolar- you'll need medication and some therapy-"

"NO WAY!" His lawyer tried calm him down. "I'm fine!"

"You wanna end up in prison?!" The detective snapped. "They'll lock you up if you do something like this again- you're lucky the judge took pity on you because he realized you were ill!" 

"Harry, that's a good point, you might not get a deal like this again-"

Harry scoffed. "That doesn't mean I'm ill! I'm fine...." He whispered. The lawyer and the detective exchanged looks. "Harry....."

"Just leave me alone! I'm fine... why won't anyone believe me?" The detective sighed. "You broke into someone's backyard and used their hose to shower.... why should anyone believe that's normal? Do you realize they would've had the right to shoot you? Do you realize it might not go the way it's going now, the next time?"

Harry nodded. He talked with the laywer, who- under Harry's direction- decided to take the medication. Once his court time was up, Harry went off the meds and continued doing whatever. He rejected it until he no longer had to.

It was always this way; Harry going through his everyday with the same little bug trapped in his head- impusling him to want to dive off the highest bridge or soar through the pervaded streets at nightime in a stolen Jaguar. Harry had these impulses and highs and lows for most of his life. 

As a child, Harry learned that imaginary friends were the best kind. The smell of gin and rum sometimes snaking into the furnace and spraying his bedroom with the stench. So, in the winters, when the furnace was on full blast, Harry would let them open all morning and then by evening, cover them up. 

Despite the stench of rum or whiskey on his father's breath, on sober days, he was fun to play with. Mostly Sundays; the game was on and Harry's father, Irving, was calm and quiet. He let Harry on his lap and would tell funny stories of how he came up with the name 'Harry' based off a funny comic he saw in a newspaper once as a little boy. Irving was kind- kissing his son's face randomly and giving big bear hugs just because. Harry liked to feel himself in his father's presence. Warm, fuzzy and cozy with sensual relief from the other side of his home.

Jane. His mother. Always angry, always drunk. Ranting about something Irving did or something he himself did. "You little fuck up!" She would scream. "I should've had that abortion!" 

It was when Harry, ten years old, that Jane ran out of her typical 'happy drinks' and tried to force Harry to get some more. He wouldn't. Tired of dealing with her unstable mood, the thought of Jane's anger might've stemmed from the alcohol she consumed on a regular basis- a school project Harry's class had been studying on. 'Just say no!' campaign for alcohol and drug abuse. Angrily, Jane grabbed one of Harry's favorite toy trucks and destroyed it right in front of him. "There... you won't listen to me, you don't have a truck anymore." Tears fell from Harry's eyes, ignoring his mother screaming at him to stop crying and get her beer.

Irving came home and argued with Jane over the incident. As Harry hid around the staircase, Irving and Jane seemed to be in a challange as to who could scream the loudest. "I hate that kid! And I hate you!" Jane's face, scrunched in this tight scowl, giving her son the stink eye from the living room corner. "You!" She screamed. Charging up the stairs, she grabbed Harry's leg and dragged him down the stairs only halfway until Irving grabbed Jane's arm and smacked her cheek so hard that blood dripped from his hand as well. Stunned, Harry layed paralyazed over the stairs. Jane, shaking and unable to speak, Irving forced her to meet his burning eyes. "It's not his fault.... it's yours." he sneered. Letting her go, Jane fell to the ground. Irving poured his rum over her head. "There's your beer, bitch," throwing the can over her head, "tell me how you like it now."

Irving took Harry from the steps and the two left for dinner at the diner. Harry could only look back at his mother, flank and huddled over the floor, trembling. "Don't look at her," his father instructed. "she got exactly what she deserved." Harry bit his lip. Deep down... maybe Irving was somewhat right. After all the times she made Hary cry and shake himself to sleep from fear, this was a thristy comuppance coming.

The diner rang of newcomers and goers all through the night. Like Harry and Irving were avoiding going home. Harry was full: Two big cheeseburgers, fries, a Coke and a chocolate milkshake and a side of pickles. "You need your veggies, bud." Harry was still shocked, unable to grasp this side of his father. Irving, for as long as Harry knew him, would walk away from a fight. Irving never stood up for Harry so blantenly; buying replacements of everything Jane destroyed from anger was his way of loyality. It frightened Harry. He never seen his mother so frail and delicate in the way he saw her down those steps. 

The way her cheek was bloody, like someone gashed it in. It dripped from her face, perfectly onto her peach dress and then onto the wooden floors. Seeing Jane like that, Harry squinched himself into her image. What of that was him? What if he was the one that was slapped from upsetting Irving? It didn't take long for Harry to see that his father's breath had that rum smell it always did. It sent a sick feeling through his body; a wave of unsurety spiked through his stomach. What if Jane would take revenge on Harry for causing Irving to do this to her. Would she leave? Would she mellow out and become puny in the eyes of her husband? Looking into Irving's eyes, Harry became small in them. No longer the man that could lift the sky, but now someone who could crush it with just the tips of his fingers.

Going home, things were quiet. The house clean, and the blooded spot where Jane layed, was cleaned like it never happened. Jane was sleeping or at least half asleep on the couch when they returned. Harry ran upstairs- not wanting to see anymore interactions between his parents. "Babe...." Irving shook Jane. "Babe...." he shook her again. 

Harry listened as Irving sighed. He called the police and the ambulance, thinking Jane drunk herself unconscience. But it was that Wednesday afternoon, during Harry's math class, when Jane was pronouced dead. Alcohol poisoning. 

It was just Harry and Irving from that moment on. On good days, they were the best of buddies, on bad days, he was just in the way. A hate love they became, making the eggshells Harry was already walking on, become broken glass. Maybe it was his grandfather who he had to thank for all this. Irving would tell him of how his father, would explode sometimes over minor little things and that it made Irving become very quiet and denfensive- ready to pounce whenever his father did.

When the day came to leave Irving, Harry felt this thick wrap of sadness and freedom. Free from the eggshells, sad from the fondness they shared as father and son. Harry gave his father one last kiss on the cheek as a momento for all the times he did, before leaving for college. It was the following year when Irving's cancer finally took over him. A hole was left in Harry, but quickly healed itself with the thought of Harry's future.

Big home, bright sunnyside yard, a family of a loving wife and two or three beatiful children. Those eggshells would never exist in their home; neither the tension or the pain or the lingering fear of the what ifs. And it was just that, that made Harry feel complete again.

But, the bug- the little glitch in his brain. It had blossomed in ten year old Harry that day. He wasn't even aware but it did. His ubrupt talking in class, or the way he would run through the snow in his boxers or swimmer trunks sometimes, it was all just fun. Childlike behavior as everyone would see it. Cause, he was just a child.

At twelve, Harry took his sled and climbed to the tallest hill from the city dump, stood on top of the sled and flew through the junk, dodging it like he was a professional. Nothing too serious, thought Irving. "Harry, use your brain, son." he would say. Some days, Harry would sleep all through it. Apathetic and gloomy over nothing. Then the insomnia where the kitchen counters had to be cleaned before his head even nicked the pillow, or some nights, Harry would crave cookies. So, he'd sneak out, run to the convenience store and grab a bunch. When caught, Harry was just.....indifferent. Not cruel or grimly..... just discontent. Was this some form of puberty hormones his father supsected. But, it was never looked into that much, because Harry kept it tame until he reached his late teens, early adulthood. By then, no one was more responsible for Harry, than himself.

And slowly, but surely, that euphoric dream of his happy family, slowly burned out like the last flame of a washed away campfire.

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

Kinsley sat in her bedroom, twirling her razor in between her fingers. She stared into the blades- three straight sharp lines shiny against the light of her bedroom. Alone and tranquil, she slowly scoots herself from off the bed, turns off the light and locks her door. Taking a seat on the floor; feeling the carpet underneath her socks. Kinsley thinks of her parents, especially her mother. 

Never having time for her, empty.... just empty, no emotion, monotone was her only tone and even the hint of seasoning in her personality was always used up on Harry. It stabbed through Kinsley- more than she wanted. Even the thought of leaving for college wouldn't be enough to steer her from the echoing pain she felt from being alone. Hopelessly needing to play mother to her two brothers. Kinsley, never having to worry about poverty or homelessness, still felt some sense of responsibilty for Beckett and Chase. Like she needed all the answers at all times, because, who else would answer? Stuck in this hamster wheel of putting on a brave face; saving face and faking happy, all while her mother worked herself to death, her father playing with one job and then the next, and then Beckett, who even through the cheap little calm facade, was trembling like a little girl in the face of an evil clown. And lastly, Chase.... shell shocked from that December. Kinsley couldn't even imagine the betrayal he felt most of all.

Suddenly the piercing swipe of the razor elated her. A sense of euphoria fanned her like a fresh whip of cool summer air. So, she made two more swipes. The blood trickled down her arm, almost like a tear. Kinsley liked to believe that she gave her body the permission to cry. The blood trickled and dripped onto the floor, faint without a sound. Kinsley didn't cry anymore. Her arm was a better canidate than her wrist. Boney and rigid, Kinsley found it more nerving wearing sweaters or jackets in warm weather. Beckett, always questioning it and scanning Kinsley up and down- curious to what she was hiding. But it wasn't so much the attention of others she was attracting, but the little slip up that became too much.

A few Augusts ago, Kinsley had been coming back from the mall. A plesant coversation with the clerk; telling her where the best outfits were and what lipsticks looked good with her skin. Kinsley flattered by these compliments, became more comfortable- relaxed with the clerk. "I'll tell you, when I was your age, my mama never took me seriously when I told her I wanted to be a dancer. Working here- I get money to afford the school- but she just blew me off... she always did. I guess she never took young people seriously."

"Really?"

"Yeah... she had this- I guess.... she never respected youngins that much- you know.... always believing they were exaggerating things nad overly dramatic, that type." Kinsley felt this sick light feeling in her gut. A lukewarm patch of unlovable started to splotch inside of her. She didn't know what it was that sparked that feeling. But a tightness begin to belt around her. Stumbling home, Kinsley let those words swim around her head. She pushed and pulled them far away, but they just wouldn't crawl out of her brain the way she wanted them to. Her heart pounded harder and harder and her vision became blurry. Stomach, light and then like a switch, a fluttery nothing to lose feeling cloaked over her. Going over the little hill to her home, Kinsley stopped for a moment to stare at the front door. A brown cheastnut with a golden door ringer right in the center.

A big white home, black shudders and a red brick pathway towards the front door, narrowing in between the lawn. Luna's car was gone; she always parked it outside of the garage. The neighborhood, quiet and serene. Like no one was watching. Beckett and Chase were with Harry at the grocery store, Luna was at work.... it was just Kinsley. Unlocking the front door, Kinsley came inside and locked the door behind her. The living room- untraced and clean, the way Kinsley needed it to be. 

Going up the stairs, Kinsley undressed and started the tub. Pouring in all her lavender and amber scented bubble soap, the water filled up to only a few inches to the top. Enough to soak her, but not enough to spill over onto the floor. Stepping into the bathtub, Kinsley let the bubbles encase her. Taking in the sweet scent of the bath, she reached for her razor on the shelf just arm's length on the wall of the shower. Squinting her eyes shut, Kinsley made one jagged swipe through her wrist, and then another. The bath becam red. Blood, trickling from her arm and splotching the water and bubbled a dillouted red. The rush wasn't enough, though the gashes were big. Big enough to be noticed. But Kinsley didn't want to be noticed. She didn't want anyone to see the big slashes across her wrists. Blooded and dripping, it didn't give what Kinsley thought it would give. Drenching her hair in the bath water, Kinsley slid down lower and lower into the tub, until she was snorkeling the water into her nostrils.

Slowly, it started to fill her lungs. Kinsley closed her eyes and let the earth around her, slowly fade like mist in thick air. 

Then..... her eyes sprung open. 

Hacking and choking herself back to heed, scanning the bathroom around for any difference since she last had walked in. Kinslsy let her tears fall; her eyes soaking and then drying and then wet again; a dillusional pattern she made for herself of crying and wiping her eyes from either the tears falling down her cheeks or the bath water still dripping from her body. Kinsley, still gasping for shallow breaths, let the scent of lavender and amber fill her nose, while still fishing for air in her lungs. 

The hue dimmed; the sunlight now glowering down a bit, leaving the bathroom with just shadows of what was beaming sun glaze. Kinsley, towled off and treated her wrist the best she could. The gashes were thick though. Smacking lotion over her body, Kinsley took herself to the hospital before anyone could notice. Four stiches later, Kinsley kept her bandaged wrists and antibiotic cure hidded from even the squint of moonlight.

Some nights- evem after that day- Kinsley would remind herself of what brought her to that bathroom and moved that razor to her wrists. The dark cave of a neverending ferris wheel. And maybe it was that. That's what brought her to swallowing the bath water. But.... it wasn't. It was what was on that ferris wheel that drowned Kinsley. The clerk and her disrespectful mother..... Kinsley ....... and her absent mother. Not being important enough for Luna... the only female in the home, besides herself, that she longed to relate to. But... was pushed away- not from cold harshness- but simple nonchalant distance. An empty in Luna that she couldn't fill no matter what she did. And that empty.... leaked onto her children. Leaked onto Kinsley. The herorin dream that leaving for college would fill the space that was there to stay. And no matter what Kinsley did.... it would never leave. Even as she sunk into the core of the bathtub.... Kinsley couldn't deny it.

Kinsley, sat with her family the next night at dinner, cautiously freeing her wrist from any rubbing or friction against them. Beckett would glance down occassionally at Kinsley and her odd body language, but still kept quiet. He never knew exactly what his sister did to injure her wrist the way she did, but he always suspected something so twisted, he just couldn't allow his brain to travel that far. So, he never did. 

Instead, he would look Kinsley up and down with each conversation, wondering what laid deep in her eyes. Kinsley wasn't entirely sure what Beckett was looking for, but she understood what he was trying to find. So.... she just hoped he would never find it.

In the present, Kinsley suckled in the minutes, the hours, the seconds her parents were gone. Like crusted dirt from a car being washed away in the splashes of soaking soapy water, shining a pristine gimmer over the coat, Kinsley hated to admit she felt this way. Refreshed, concerned and content with this new sense of lonesome. Just her and her brothers alone in the quiet home- faded of fiascos upon them, solely on the weight of the two people who bring them. But... Kinsley would give it a few days or so. And then.... when she was ready..... she would call the police.

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

Beckett tapped against the wooden panels of his bedroom floor harshly, but not enough to wake the sleeping household. Beckett kept it that way. Staring at the wall in front of his desk, Beckett couldn't seem to keep focus on anything else. Turning off his laptop, Beckett paced his floor. He turned off the lights- liking darkness as soothing comfort constrast to the dizzy bright glow of his bedroom overhead light. Only the small hue of his lamp shined quietly as Beckett couldn't even hold himself still for a second. Like a chicken without a head, a fog settled over in Beckett's brain. Like static to a disconnected television, Beckett couldn't even keep the one thought of Luna and Harry to stay in his mind.

Clentching his hands- knuckles turning white and palms becoming sweaty and greasy, Beckett found his lips opened slightly like a fish. Small breaths would come in and out from his mouth- open and suckling in the grists of air that he felt he couldn't catch. The world was black and spinning and the ground sunk lower and lower beneath him like quicksand. Beckett grabbed onto his computer chair to gain balance. Nothing. He still couldn't hold on. A black force must've captured him into its lure- sucking out the last breaths of life from his body. At least, to Beckett it was.

Screaming for help, but nothing came out. Flashes and echos of demons laughing at his pain, howling at his desperation to hang onto his life, even if it ended tonight. Sputtering and choking on his on flesh, Beckett fell to the floor, still wondering if the thud woke anyone up. Now adrenaline sped through him even more. "Chase shouldn't hear this, Kinsley shouldn't hear this...." All ran through his head like he was saying it out loud, but he couldn't. He wasn't. Heart speaking for him- pounding louder through the room than anything else. Like Beckett could reach in his chest and try to slow it down, his fingers tingly; on and off of numbness like pins and needles were inside them.

Beckett began to become afraid. Afraid of living. Falling completly onto the floor, shaking and trembling like he was violently ill; a blaring fever ringing through his body like he was on death's door. His chest had become weak- he felt- from the lack of breaths. A single full gust of air couldn't even penatrate into his lungs for even a minute. And then.... black.

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

A light shadow casted itself over Beckett's face. Blinking and adjusting himself to the morning light- eyes darting to the clock that read 8:45. Crawling from the floor and onto his bed, Beckett straightened himself up with a better posture, stretched and went downstairs for an early breakfast. Beckett could recall the dizzy nightmare he had from last night. Only it wasn't the nightmare he wished it was. Making himself a cup of coco, he sat down at the table and threw his head into his hands. "What the hell....." he whispered to himself. 

Creaks of small footsteps sounded, before Chase's presence entered into the dining room. "Beck?" Beckett looked up and then slowly towards Chase. A vapor still was over him, like grainy vintage footage from an old camera. A weak smile eroded from his tired body. "Hey buddy..." Chase invited himself into a seat across from Beckett. "Want some coco?" Chase shook his head.

"What happened last night?" Beckett didn't have to ask. Clearing his throat with a small furrow, Beckett tried hard to formulate an answer. "I had a bad dream that's all..... fell out of bed." Taking another sip from his coco, Chase looked down a bit. "What was your dream about?"

Beckett smiled. "Well.... monsters, I guess. They like to come out at some of the scariest times and pounce on you....." Chase furrowed his eyebrows a little before readjusting them to straight laced and blank. "Yeah...." he said softly.

"I'll make you some cereal...." Beckett got up from the table and went into the kitchen, wanting to disappear from Chase's sight. But Beckett could still feel it. Like a forthwith flu, that springs on you at night, leaving you with the worst sniffles and coughs you could feel the next morning. 

The bowl didn't sit right- according to Beckett- agitating him. Gripping the cereal box harder, he forcibly shook the bag harder and more violatle than he first wanted to. Almost punishing the bowl for not being how he wanted to be. Pouring the milk and slamming the spoon into the bowl, Beckett took a deep breath and served it to Chase with a sweet smile across his face. "There you go..." Soft and gentle, a similar tone to Harry's, making Chase flinch a bit. Beckett pressed a kiss to Chase's cheek before sitting back at his spot at the table, focusing on finishing the last sips of his coco.

A sudden spark of Harry and Luna slapped Beckett. Now remembering that chaotic thought that started the whole haze in the first place; two homewreaking adults, making their own offspring worry over themselves. 

Distracted, Beckett nearly knocked the mug over. Snatching it back and slamming it a bit hard over the table; angered by the thought of his parents, he failed to realize how much is shocked Chase to see his brother respond out of context. Beckett's cheeks flushed. Looking up- barely able to meet Chase's eyes. A polite smile grew from him. "Sorry." He looked down at the mug for awhile before taking it to the sink. Chase focused the rest of breakfast on his cereal. 

Kinsley's popping of her gum interuppted the tension, but shook Chase a bit. "Okay guys," she grabbed a banana, "I gotta to go work- if Mom and Dad call or come home before I do, then give me a call." Pulling out a two twenty's from her purse, Kinsley handed it to Beckett. "Why don't you order the pizzas while I'm gone- repeat of the last order."

Beckett nodded, only glancing into Kinsley's eyes for a second. She took notice, but a work thought flooded her mind. "Bye Chase, bye Beck." She said, darting out the door after grabbing her car keys. The house falls silent. Too silent for Beckett. Keeping his balance steady, Beckett makes his way to the key rack, snatching Luna's keys off the hook. Scanning the living room, Beckett takes a deep breath. The air had become to muggy for him inside the house, and the upstairs would only remind him of the demons he was trying to outrun. Going into the dining room, Beckett finally makes contact with Chase shamelessly. "Before we order lunch and dinner.... wanna go for a drive?"

Chase perked up. "A drive?" Beckett smiled small. "Yeah.... just put your bowl in the dishwasher and we can go..."

Chase threw himself up from the table and ran to the kitchen. Beckett didn't question Chase's excitement. He was more focused on his pounding thought of the unknown. "Let's go!" Beckett ushered Chase out the door and into the car. Putting the key into the ignition, Beckett let the sound of the car's purring take him. Slowly backing out of the driveway, Beckett then turned the corner and stepped on the gas. Turning on the radio, 'Lana Del Ray' blared through the stereo as the pair drove through the city. On a Thursday, the summer sun clamored through the car windows, roads were neat and empty from the everyday people either at home or at work. Beckett took in the green shiny trees from every tree lawn around the surburban neighborhoods. The sweet breeze seeped into the car windows, tickling Beckett's hair- fluttering it like a feather. Chase found himself staring into the rearview mirror, seeing how the sun lit into Beckett's eyes. 

Beckett stayed locked on the road- not darting even for the occassional glances towards the backseat. A wave flew over him. A car could come from nowhere- slam into them. Slam into Chase's side. Beckett stepped on the gas harder. Focused on what stood in front of him, Beckett eventually snapped himself out of his strict view and began scanning around for the unknown. The echos made their way into the car. Scratching the surface of Beckett's head- threatning to drill inside. The same whispers of doubt from last night peered into him. Speeding his heart up faster than the car, pounding his lungs like he was drowing and swimming at the same time. Beckett swore he could already see the neon lights of the police cars wailing around the corner to park at their house, informing them of their parent's tragedy. His palms now stuck to the steering wheel from his mucky sweat.

The haze became thicker. Beckett needed to outrun this. Pressing the gas harder, he shot through the streets, trailing the car up to the bridge. Chase- gripping his seatbelt- began to feel the same pangs he felt that day. December lights that hung from house to house and building to building, all begin to spin in his mind like a wicked loopty loop. The words 'Stop' couldn't form from his mouth the way he needed them too. Unable to scream, stuck in this whirling motion of the uncontrolled. But Beckett felt he was in control.

He could blame this on his cabin fever, waiting paitently for the return of his parents. The bridge stood as the ground beneath them. One side held this view of nothing but water and the other as well. Only water, not even dusty ground or rock... just water. Like the waters Beckett was swimming in- running from the tidal wave full of sharks. The car whipping past like a roller coaster, speeding even higher with every thought that laced into Beckett's brain. Only when the dead end of the bridge was coming too close......

"STOP BECKETT STOP!" 

The car jerked. Halting itself from anymore speed. Catching his breath, Beckett was too afraid to look into the rearview mirror- terrified of what he might see. Chase, pale, ghostly white like his soul escaped his body. Beckett slowly turned the car around and drove back through those same streets he passed. Every other minute looking back and checking the mirror to watch Chase closely; jumping from the car might be something he would do. Besides the staggering shame that painted Beckett's face bright pink, it was the silence of the car- the silence of Chase that sunk in more. Chase.... was he angry? Scared? Confused? Shocked? Traumatized yet again? Beckett knew this. He knew what Chase went through with Harry.... how could he do this to him as his brother? Why would he let this happen again?

Beckett didn't know. All he knew was Chase unbuckling his seat belt and darting from out of the car, up the steps of the garage and into the house without one word. But he didn't need to speak it. Beckett already knew how Chase felt. And for once, while alone in the car, Beckett pressed his forehead against the steering wheel.... and cried.

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

Beckett ordered the pizzas like Kinsley requested. Chase's pizza halfway full- he had come down, fixed his plate, and then ran back upstairs again to his room. Beckett ate his dinner in silence. Not even the TV could fill the holes the guilt inside of him left. He felt he deserved it. He punished himself. Beckett, even into evening pounded his brain with evil thoughts of how abhorrent he was. How much he let his brother down- the person who looked to him for all the answers, was now going to be one he ran away from.

The jingle of keys could be heard from the kitchen nook. Kinsley walked in, smelling the savory scent of her favorite pizza. "Oooh, you ordered it..." Washing her hands and grabbing a slice, savoring every bite. Picking the sauage from her box, she noticed how tense Beckett was. "What happened? You're acting like someone got murdered or something..." Beckett waved it off. "Oh nothing... it's... just Mom and Dad."

"Did they call?" He shook his head. "No. No surprise there I guess but....."

"But what?"

"What if this is our life now? Mom and Dad don't ever show up.... and it's me, you and Chase...." Kinsley shrugged. "I don't know.... maybe... but..... I hope not. I mean- it's been very nice like this- but they should come home."

"It has been very nice..." Kinsley stiffened. "Yeah...." She looked at Beckett. "It is very nice to not have arguments or annoucements of Dad's unemployment..... I mean... this... is not the ideal type of life I want. At all." 

Beckett raised his eyebrows. "Me neither."

"Has Chase gotten his food yet?" 

"Oh yeah, he ate his upst- he ate it awhile ago." Kinsley furrowed her eyebrows. "He wanted to be alone today.... I think he misses Mom and Dad a bit... he's worried." Kinsley nodded. "Yeah..."

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

It was ten o'clock. And Beckett tiptoed up the stairs, right hand carrying Chase's favorite dessert: a fudge cake with chocolate syrup and vanilla ice cream. A soft knock on the door, felt like splinters in his knuckles to Beckett. "Chase... it's me... I have your favorite dessert with me... if you want it."

A few minutes later, Chase opened the door. A relief fell through Beckett. "Can I come in?" Chase stepped aside, allowing Beckett into his room. Setting the bowl down, Chase nodded from Beckett to take a seat in his chair. "Chase...." Beckett looked deep into Chase's eyes. Tears begin to well up in his, glossing his eyes. Sucking in his lip, he swallowed. "I am so, so, so, so, so, sorry. I should never have done what I did-"

"What is wrong with you?! You acted at the breakfast table- and then you say 'Hey Chase, wanna go for a ride?' and nearly kill us..... just like Dad." Those words stung Beckett hard. He didn't ever want to repeat that mistake his own father made. "You know..... you know.... how bad that was. You were in that car when I was- yet... you go and take me out and do the same thing? That doesn't make any sense! How could you?! Why would you?!" Tears fell freely from Chase's eyes. "Why?......"

Beckett held it in.... then broke down. "I don't know..... I just didn't want to be here... I.... my nightmare yesterday, was real.... I brokedown- a breakdown- when your mind and body just can't handle anymore. And that's what happened.... but instead of being honest.... I pretended like I was fine and I wasn't.... that's why I wanted to take a drive... I wanted to clear my mind.... but I didn't wanna be alone.... I didn't wanna be alone...." Beckett let himself sob.

"I was afraid of what I might've done, Chase! I was losing my mind- I still don't have it.... but I am truly sorry for hurting you.... the last person I could ever want to hurt is you.... I love you... and Kins, so much...." Beckett couldn't speak. But he didn't need to. Chase slid off the bed and held Beckett in his arms, while he sobbed. "I'm so sorry...." he cried. Chase knew he was. He already knew he would forgive Beckett... it was just a matter of when.... not if he ever came to him.

As Beckett calmed, he wrapped his arms around Chase tighter. Thankful for his brother's forgiveness and thankful for the second chance. The two held each other- far longer than when the ice cream had melted into a puddle inside of the bowl.

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

It was midnight and as of on cue- the children all gathered in the living room- the jingle of keys rang from outside. The front door flew open and in came Luna and Harry with their bags. "We're home!" Harry cheered. The house- silent as it usually was when they're parents came into view. Harry still kept a smile over his face, waiting possibly for maybe a hug from Beckett or a 'Daddy's home' from Kinsley. But nothing. Chase stared, first at Harry, then to Luna, before brushing past them and locking himself up in bedroom. 

Kinsley pretended as if they didn't even come home; her back turned while typing something into her phone. "Kids?" Luna piped. Beckett, finally fed up from the grandstand, decided to clear everything. "Where were you?"

"Excuse me?" Luna said. "Where were you?" Beckett repeated.

"Two weeks. Two weeks past the day you're supposed to return home, and now you're here, without so much as a call or a text, a letter, a memo- something to tell us that you're okay and that you're coming home on this day or this time! Nothing.... we waited for you..... and you never showed up."

Luna looked down then up. "Well... we're here now..."

"Of course you are.... because two weeks are null.... every bad thing you do is just invalid... like us. Me, Beckett and Chase, spent this entire time taking care of ourselves! And all you can say is: "We're here now." Well I don't care, because I don't want to see you!" Kinsley ran past her parents, upstairs to her room and slammed the door.

Beckett was left alone. Scanning his parents up and down with a staunch frown over his face. "We missed you..." Harry said, softly. Beckett only gave a nod before walking upstairs to his room, making his parents see his slow footsteps- taking each time on each step carefully, just to punish them. Closing the door, but still leaving it open a crack, Beckett laid back in his bed to hear what would happen downstairs.

"Well... that's that... thanks a lot, Harry." Harry frowned. "What did I do?"

"I said 'we should get back early so we could be back home on time', but you insisted we see that stupid marriage coach on board like she could do something about us."

"Well excuse me for trying to help 'us' out. She was a sex therapist, Luna. We needed it-" 

"Shh! I don't want the kids to hear- do you know how embarrassing that would be?" Harry shrugged. "Well... we did need it."

Luna went to the dining room and put her head in her hands. "We screwed up.... big time." A gust of small wind fell over her back and then the touch of Harry's hand over it. But it didn't warm her the way it usually did. Luna knew there was no excuse for their actions. Not calling, not doing anything was beyond irresponsible.... it was cruel. The angry stares and shuns of her children would never be something that would leave her brain. Branded into the walls of her mind- something added to what she would pull out on a rainy day to think about when she needed to feel sad or broken over something. 

"I think we just got carried away." Harry sat next to Luna. "Maybe we can take the kids out to dinner tomorrow to make up for it."

"This is not the first time we've done this..... that probably ran through their minds. Like.... like we didn't even care about them." Harry ran his hands through his hair. Despite his reassurance, he couldn't ignore the feeling that planted itself in him the moment he stepped into the house. Chase didn't even say a word- something he was used to- but neither did Beckett or Kinsley... at first. Like Luna, Harry felt even more so, the depths of his children's pain. The understanding of their anger and hurt was too much for him to rationalize with. So, he bit down any thoughts or imagines of what his children might say or do next to shield, maybe even just some of the pain. Getting up, Harry went into the kitchen to make him and Luna tea.

Luna sat nursing her now pounding headache in her hands, trying not to beat herself up. Even though... she would've not only deserved it.... but needed it as well. The temptation to cry was strong, but she swallowed that down like she did the several margaritas she had with Harry while they traveled from city to city- using their cruise as their transportation. Drunk and feeling frenzy, they kept their phones off- under the advice of their therapist, who didn't even know about their responsiblites that sat at home waiting. Harry wanted Brazil, then Mexico, all while Luna let herslef be dragged along as if it was another honeymoon for them. Like twenty year old bohemians without a care in the world, drinking, dancing, eating and partying their way like a romance movie. But, here they were, home at their doorstep, where it all came back to bit them in the butt.

Setting the tea down in front of Luna, she took a sip and continued keeping her cheek in her palm. "I'm gonna add some more sugar," getting up, Luna went into the kitchen with her tea. Setting the mug down, she grabbed a bottle of gin and poured some into the tea- stirring it with lemon and ginger inside it too. Taking another sip, Luna let a small smile trace her face a bit.

Harry finished his tea, set the cup into the sink and then started slowly trailing up the stairs. His feet took him to Chase's door. One soft knock, then another, then another. "Chase... it's Dad..." The door didn't even flinch. Neither did the floor creak. So Harry knocked again. "Not now Dad..." Chase's voice seemed like an echo. "Chase... Chasie- Daddy... can he come in.... we can talk?" 

Chase opened the door and flew past Harry, running down the stairs and out the door. Too dark to know where he was going, but he didn't care. Anywhere but the home that was short of its name. Running right, Chase could make out the shadows of the trees and the small dots of light on every front porch. Balls of light from street lamps and the gentle clicks of birds or whatever made that sound from where ever, sent this rush through Chase. Like an olympian running to the finish line, Chase liked the feeling of the his own winds running through his hair and brushing into his skin.

It took around the corner the store, then to the park.... then into the city. Streams of lights and evening chuckles and chatters from nightgoers were now all around him. His legs slowed down and his mind stopped. Like a time machine speeding through every decade, stopping at its destination, Chase could only walk alone and take note of what the city looks like after midnight. Digging into his pocket for change, he found a two crumbled up five dollar bills that he couldn't remember what he was saving them for. Walking into the cafe, a sense of hope sprang through Chase like he had finally found somewhere to shelter himself from the unseen of the night. And.... he could've used a drink and a snack by now.

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

Beckett opened his door and found Harry sitting somberly on Chase's bed. Coming closer, Beckett found only Harry but no Chase. "Where's Chase?" Harry still looking down, didn't respond. "Dad!" Harry shot up. "Where's Chase?"

Harry sniffled. "He....he- he left." 

"What?"

"I wanted to talk to him, and he opened his door for a brief second and ran out..... I heard the front door close so I thin-"

"He ran away?!" Beckett's outburst prompted Kinsley's door to open. "Chase ran away from home?" Beckett turned around, fear all through his face. Kinsely took off downstairs to grab her mother, but found no trace of her. A tight snap pinched her, alarming her to where her mother was suspsected to be. Grabbing her father's car keys, Kinsley dashed out the door. Whoever she came to first- Chase or Luna- they would be found first. Kinsley hoped it would be Chase, but a gut tight instinct promised her it would be Luna she would find before anything else.

"How could you let him leave? Where the hell's Mom?!" 

"Okay, just calm down Beck-"

"No! He's gone Dad! He could be anywhere.... oh God, why wasn't I there? The second time in nearly one day where I failed him again-"

"What happened there?" Maybe it was the slight sterness or aloofness in Harry's tone that Beckett couldn't stand, making the last snag inside of him snap. 

"WHY WOULD YOU CARE? YOU NEVER NOTICE THE OBVIOUS ANYWAY! WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'WHAT HAPPENED THERE?' AS IF YOU WEREN'T ALREADY GONE FOR HALF THE MONTH!" 

"Beck-"

"Do you ever wonder why Chase hates you?! Do you even realize how much he's afraid of you- you drive us into the city as kids in the middle of winter and nearly kill us because of God knows whatever it was you were thinking, because sometimes it's like you don't think, Dad! You don't care, so Chase just became a shell of what he was since that day.... we all did. And you did nothing except.... oh yeah.... get a bicycle for yourself that Christmas!"

"Chase hates me?"

"He can't even stand to breathe the same air in THE ROOM AS YOU, DAD!  Don't you get it? You failed us all.... you won't get help and now everyone else needs even more help because you can't admit you're sick! In more ways than one!" Beckett sneered. Gritted teeth and slashing words- maybe for the sake of hurting Harry... but more because they were words that needed to be spoken. Taking in a deep breath, Beckett finally turned to Harry with more swollen eyes. 

Harry sat on the bed, paralyzed, unable to speak, move or think. Getting up, he walks out of Chase's room- ignoring Beckett's apologies- and shelters himself in his room. Laying on the bed, Harry stares up at the celling. For once in his life- brain cleared, unfoggy of some nonsense- it all flashes back into him like an overhead light in a hospital bed. The car screeching, the screams and cries of his children begging him to stop..... then the crash and shatter of the car slamming into the lamp post. Like an urge to vomit that he pushed down, Harry let tears fall from his eyes and spot his pillow. Chase's sweet little face. All he could see was how sweet Chase's face used to look and now how diminished of life it looked now. Eyes empty, face stricken in this derelict state. Something made the connection for Harry- Irving slapping Jane across the face, making her bleed onto the floor. Harry although never wanted to, he always believed that it was his father who pushed his mother to her untimely death.

That little promise Harry kept inside of him to keep the spirit of his father alive, meant nothing now. He knew his family was far from perfect..... and he was partly to blame. He caused the trouble his family suffered. He caused his own son to be afraid of him: like he was of his father. Those eggshells became Chase's to walk on and his father's shame became Harry's to carry. Sitting himself up, a wail came from his throat before a full lucid sob. Crying like a baby into his hands- mouth vibrating and lungs quivering- Harry didn't car who heard his cries.

Beckett could make out the muttered sounds of it.... but left him alone anyway.

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

Kinsley turned every corner and every side street. But still no Chase. Her worry boomed through the roof of the car. Kinsley then got this jabbing feeling in her stomach. Not knowing what it was, she took a chance and turned the car in the direction it wanted her to go. The Ivory Chalice. One of the bars that lived in the city. Kinsley squinted her eyes enough to see Luna's dark gray Honda parked right outside. Kinsley kept her ping of anger hidden until she was sure her mother was inside chugging down drinks at the counter. Parking, Kinsley walked slowly, stuffing the keys into the pocket of her jeans and taking quiet steps like she was creeping up on someone.

Inside, the intense smell of smoke and booze hit her like a gust of wind. Looking around, even Kinsley realized she couldn't make any excuses for the woman wearing the same black blazer and blue skinny jeans as her mother. Frozen, she didn't know whether or not to approach Luna or just let her get intoxicated to teach her a lesson for her immaturity. Kinsley decided on the latter and walked out without saying so much as one word.

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

As the bar was closing, Luna stumbled out to the parking lot. The bartender kept her keys and said she could come get them if she found a sober driver or by later that morning when she sobered up. So, Luna was forced to call a taxi to come fetch her. In the backseat, Luna nursed her tired and queasy stomach. Rolling down the window- once at a red light- she threw up out the window and was forced to look at her vomit on the side of the road after the taxi drove off. Sobering up, Luna was now aware of what she had gotten herself into. The driver didn't say a word, but didn't have to. The look on his face was pure disgust and the minute he reached her house, he practically threw Luna out of the backseat.

Luna couldn't even let herself in the house. Sitting on the front porch, she put her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees. Staring off into the night, a tension tightened into Luna's stomach and shoulders. Face blushed and reddened and eyes dark and swollen. Luna kept playing with her lip- tucking it in and out- anything to distract her from tonight. Tears welled in her eyes, but she wiped them away. Luna looked back at the house, and just couldn't bring herself to go back into it. Deciding to tough the evening chill rather than the warm hubble of inside, Luna stayed put on the front porch until the sun rose a little. 

5:34 in the morning. Luna dusted herself off and walked down to the bus stop. The bus came and Luna payed the fee and sat towards the back of the bus, despite it's emptiness. Getting closer to the bar, Luna pulled the string and got off. The parking lot held some cars there. Spotting her own, Luna looked inside and saw how it was exactly the same as when she was forced to leave it. Taking a deep breath, she walked inside the bar.

"Hello." The bartender looked up. "Hey Luna... sober?"

A flush of warmth fell over her, feeling two feet tall like she did the first time her keys were taken. "Yes..."

Luna's keys were fished from the jar full of other keys that were taken from patrons. "Honda right?" 

"Yes..." Luna took her keys, muttered a 'thank you' and left without saying anything else. Unlocking her car door, Luna settled inside, started the car and sped out, without even putting her seatbelt on. Driving out of the city, Luna found Chase wandering around, looking lost. Both from his escape into the unknown surroundings and from the toll the place he escaped from left on him.

Honking her horn, Chase looked and saw her. Rolling her window down, "Chase! Come on, let's go!" Chase ran and stumbled into the backseat. They drove in silence, with Luna still racking her head as to how Chase even got downtown by himself. She didn't question it. Luna decided to take a pass this time to avoid any further explainations as to why she was even there as well.

Returning home, Chase ran inside- dodging his siblings cheers of his return- and locked himself up in his bedroom again.

Luna came into the house shortly after, leaving Kinsley to look down at her feet.... but still stay in the living room. Beckett followed Chase, leaving mother and daughter alone. Luna set her keys on the hook, avoiding eye contact with Kinsley. "I saw you..." 

Luna looked to Kinsley. Her daughter's eyes staring through her. "What?" Kinsley let an eye roll escape. "I saw you.... at The Ivory Chalice. You were at the counter drinking. You were drunk- just wasted and I saw you there- shot glasses all around you."

Luna didn't speak. She knew she couldn't justify this. "Chase was missing. You and Dad were gone for two weeks. And you drink. You come home.... and drink." She squinted her eyes. "You know.... I could've left too. I held down the fort for those two weeks with my paycheck, my job, Beckett ran the home keeping Chase and himself safe, I kept myself safe- we survived Mom! And it felt so good! You and Dad weren't here and although, I am pissed about that, even I can't deny how peaceful it was. Chase said 'let's call the police' I said 'No'.... I wanted to enjoy the fun while it lasted. So, you and Dad partied it up in Mexico.... me and the boys had a big ol' ball down here...."

Almost dillousional, Kinsley snapped. "But then! I went out looking for Chase because I overheard Beckett say he ran away! So I drove around for almost two hours and I couldn't find him.... but I found you. I even went inside and I was disgusted! But unsurprised. I mean- this was my curveball- the longest you haven't been here and instead of apologizing, you get drunk! Are we that unimportant to you? You're so cold.... so turned off- you're not happy with anything- I mean, Dad's a mess, but at least he smiles and tries to be posititve- for whatever that's worth. You don't. And I needed you to be. When Dad crashed the car.... you did nothing, except, pay for the damages and cut our Christmas budget in half. You didn't protect us... you stay here in this house when Dad does nothing to help you or this family! You could've left him and taken us! I you loved us! But you don't. You turn yourself off to everything around you and the little energy you do have..... you give it to Dad. Everything's for him and you leave your children to the wolves? Do you know how selfish that was? What about Chase? What about Beckett? What about me? Where's my mother?"

Kinsley let tears fall and drip onto her shirt. And for the first time... in a long time.... so did Luna. Her face scrunched up and drenched in tears. "I'm...." she couldn't catch her breath. Falling to her knees, Luna sobbed loudly. "I'm so sorry!" And she was. For not kissing Kinsley that night, for not packing her bags and leaving Harry like she promised, for being away for so long and for being unavailable. Just detached from everything, Luna swore she would change.... but she never had the guts to.

Kinsley finally cried and hugged Luna. Luna hugged back. "I'm so sorry..." she whimpered. "I didn't know how.... I wanted to... but I couldn't let go of the pain.... I'm so sorry, baby." Kinsley sat there with her mother's arms around her. Taking in every breath and heart pound of her chest, Kinsley let herself become enticed in it like she used to. Although it would take some time- like Chase- she already knew, she would forgive Luna.

Luna masked herself in the scent of child. A freedom from the past of never having a moment like this, Luna promised to make these moments again. She knew it would take time and healing.... but the love for her children was something that held its own force to pull her into how she wanted to love them. Love them the way they deserved to be loved. And to do that.... Luna promised... to love herself as well.

"I love you, Kins."

"I love you too, Mom."

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

Chase let his door be cracked open a bit. Sitting on his bed, letting the esence of the morning summer sun hit his back. Harry dove out from his room and made slow small steps to Chase's door. Gently opening it, Harry invited himself into the room, silently accepting that Chase wasn't going to look up at him. He sat in front of him. "Chase...." He didn't respond. Harry took time to formulate words into his brain of what he wanted to say. "Beck told me..... uh.... why you hated me... so much." Chase looked up. 

"I.... understand... what happened." Chase just stared at Harry. "Really?" Harry nodded. "Yes,"

Taking in a deep breath, Harry looked into Chase's green eyes. "That car accident back in December.... I am so sorry." Harry bit his lip. "I know I've never said that before... but I mean it."

"Only when Beck tells you it happened, now you understand." Harry shook his head. "No I always remembered it.... you just can't shake something like that."

"No, you can't." Chase's voice was cold. "So, just because you're sorry now it's okay? Like I didn't relive that over and over in my mind all the up to now and-

"Chase,"

"And that it doens't affect me?! Like I should just let it go because it didn't matter to you at the time and nothing else matters except you having fun and doing what you want right?-"

"Chase!"

"And simply because Mom takes care of you and you walk around with this smile on your face like 'it's hunky-go-dory-' that I should.... I should...."

"CHASE!"

"THAT I SHOULD STILL LOVE YOU?" Harry's face dropped. Sitting up, he went to the dresser, turning his back to Chase. Not from anger. To recollect his tears that were spilling out over the floor.

"Oh Chase...." Harry turned around. Falling to the floor in front of Chase, he broke. "I'M SO SORRY! Oh please forgive me, Chasie.... I didn't mean to hurt you.... or anyone." He sniffled. "I...I know... I'm sick. Daddy needs some help..." he grabbed Chase's face. "and I promise, I'm going to get it." Chase let tears fall, staring back into Harry's eyes. 

"I lived the life I wanted to live.... and.... it payed a terrible price. And I'm sorry you had to pay that price. That won't ever happen again... and I promise.... I'm gonna make it better."

Chase fell into Harry's arms. The shine of the sun glowing around them like a heaven's sent light. Beckett, pressed up against the door jam, listening to every word of his father and Chase. He usually found it rude to eavesdrop, but found it appropriate in this case. A bright smile came over Beckett's face. Happy to himself for holding such confidence in himself of his upholding optimisim. Even if it held some cracks in it....

it never wavered.... and Beckett found peace in knowing that.

[captainsophiestark]

Lost Pizza Delivery Guys

Platonic!Percy Jackson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023​! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Prompt: Dionysus; Wine, Cups, Dolphins, and Goats

Summary: Percy's cousin and friend on Sally's side helps him celebrate his 21st birthday right.

Word Count: 1,843

Category: Fluff

A/N: I also wrote this oneshot and this oneshot with Percy and his cousin being besties, loosely related to this one! You don't need to read one to understand the other, but in my mind they're in the same universe

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"IDs, please."

I grinned and nudged my cousin excitedly as he pulled out his driver's license and handed it to the bouncer before us. Tonight was his 21st birthday, and this officially marked the first time he got to use his card to get in somewhere.

"Okay, go ahead," said the bouncer, passing our IDs back before stepping aside. "And happy birthday."

"Thanks," said Percy with a smile and a nod as we headed into the bar. I beamed at him, dropping my hands onto his shoulders and jumping up and down a little.

"Welcome to adulthood, Perce! First round's on me, but you put in the order."

"Alright," said Percy, laughing a little at my antics but heading over to the bar with a smile anyway.

After a full-family day of celebrating Percy's 21st birthday, I'd asked for the honor of taking him to his first bar. He'd been all in, and I'd brought him to my favorite place in the city.

Despite being close cousins if you looked at a family tree, I hadn't gotten to be a part of Percy's life until the very end of his high school career. I'd been separate from the family I shared with him and Sally, escaping a bad situation when I was young without looking back. Once I'd gotten to college in New York, however, and knew I had family in the area, I decided to reach out and see if it would be worth reconnecting. And it had turned out to be the best decision I could've made.

My Aunt Sally was absolutely incredible, that went without saying. The few memories I had of her from when I was young were the things that had made me want to reach out in the first place. But finding Percy, who was only a few years younger than me, was like getting the little brother I'd always wanted. Even a little later, when a monster almost took my head off when Percy and I were out getting lunch and I learned about all the Greek mythology stuff, I didn't have even a second of regret over having these people in my life.

Luckily for me, Sally's clear-sightedness ran in the family, so I wasn't completely out of the loop when things came up. And, even better, I could look around the bar and feel confident no monsters were about to interrupt me and my little cousin celebrating his 21st birthday.

"Alright, first a toast," I said, raising my glass towards Percy once we had our drinks. He lifted his, too, grinning at me as I continued. "To you, Percy Jackson, hero of AHS swim team, son of Sally Jackson, and the best cousin I could've ever hoped for."

We clinked glasses, Percy still absolutely beaming, and took the first sips of our drinks. The night had officially begun.

We stayed in the bar for a few hours, laughing and dancing to the live band and occasionally refilling our drinks. Finally though, with a little less than an hour and a half to go before midnight, we wandered outside, smiling like idiots with our arms around each other.

"That was fun," Percy decided as we nodded a goodnight to the bouncer.

"I'm glad. And remember what I told you about drinking lots of water."

"I will. Maybe it'll work even better for me since I'm a son of Poseidon."

"That would be sick."

"Yeah."

We both stood there for a moment, letting the cool night air wash over us, a serious relief for the end of the summer. Percy had planned to spend the last moments of his birthday at Camp, with his girlfriend Annabeth and his best friend Grover. I knew it was time for me to let him go, to get us each a cab and head our separate directions, but I still didn't quite want the night to end.

Apparently, Percy felt the same way. He turned to me, a mischievous grin on his face and a light in his eyes that definitely meant trouble.

"Do you want to come back to Camp with me?"

I laughed, smiling a little even as I shook my head. "Perce, you know as well as I do that I can't. I wish I could, but there's no way for me to get in."

"Actually... no one knows how he did it, but a really lost pizza delivery guy made it through one time."

"If no one knows how he did it, how am I supposed to replicate it?"

Percy shrugged. "I don't know. But it's possible."

I paused, debating with myself for a moment. Worse-case scenario, I couldn't get in and I had a much longer cab ride than necessary. Not ideal, but not the end of the world either. And best case, I'd finally get to see the famous Camp Half-Blood and hang out with Percy and his friends.

"Alright," I finally said, turning back to Percy with a smile. "Let's give it a shot."

"Cool. Then I'm sorry for this."

Before I could ask what he meant, Percy held out his hand and threw a golden coin I recognized as Olympian money onto the street. At the same time, he shouted something in what I guess was ancient Greek, and the pavement before us started to bubble. A moment later, a smoky gray taxi rose out of the ground, suddenly sitting and waiting just in front of where we stood on the curb.

"Whoa," I breathed, a smile making its way onto my face as the astonishment wore off. "That is so cool."

"Maybe wait until after the ride to decide if it's cool."

Despite that shady warning, I got into the cab when Percy opened the door and climbed in with me. In front of us across the driver's bench were three ancient old ladies. It took about thirty seconds for me to realize they only had one eye between them, at which point only love for Percy kept me sitting in the car.

The ride from the bar to Camp Half-Blood were a few of the worst moment of my life. It was terrifying from start to finish, and although the travel was incredibly fast, there was also a stretch of that time where I thought we'd never get out of the cab alive again.

After Percy convinced the drivers, apparently the Gray Sisters, to take me even though I was a mortal, and after they spat some poetry about Apollo meddling to help Percy as a favor in the near future (which Percy seemed less than thrilled about), the car finally came to a stop. I rushed to get out, making a beeline for some bushes in case the motion sickness was enough to make me throw up. Thankfully, it wasn't, and when I turned around the cab was gone, leaving me and Percy on a darkened stretch of road.

"That was the worst thing ever," I declared. Percy shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Fastest cab service in New York."

I just shook my head, closing my eyes and then immediately regretting it since my world was still spinning. When I opened my eyes again, Percy had moved past me to the edge of the forest.

"I figured we'd try to go in the back way, by the woods here," he explained. "We're pretty sure that's where the pizza guys come from."

"Would those be the monster-infested woods you've told me about?"

"Yup."

I sighed, long and heavy, letting the last of the adrenaline drain away. Then, I managed a smile at Percy.

"Alright. Let's do this."

Percy pulled out his sword as I followed him into the woods, incredibly tense and jumping at every single noise. I couldn't tell exactly where the barrier to Camp Half-Blood was, but I didn't run into any invisible barriers, and by some miracle we didn't run into any monsters. After a while of walking, finally, we came to a beach, and not far from us I could see two figures waiting.

Percy turned back to me with a grin as our feet reached the sand.

"We did it."

"Did we seriously? This is Camp?"

"Yeah. The cabins and everything else are another walk through the woods, but this is the Camp beach. Annabeth and Grover are up there."

"Hell yes," I said, grinning as I moved to walk next to Percy. "Lost pizza delivery guys have nothing on me."

Percy and I high-fived, and as soon as they noticed me, Annabeth and Grover threw their hands up in the air and waved me over.

"You made it!" cried Annabeth, pulling me in for a hug. "How did you make it?"

I shrugged as we pulled apart, then immediately turned to pull Grover in too.

"No idea. However the pizza delivery guys did it, I guess. Whatever it was, I'm glad I'm here."

"Me too," said Percy, slinging an arm around my shoulders. We shared a smile, and then I turned away to reach into my bag. I pulled out the last surprise I'd been saving and faced the group again with a massive grin, two wine bottles in-hand.

"Don't tell your camp director," I said, smirking a little to myself. Percy, Annabeth, and Grover made a perfect scale of worried (Grover) to cackling, laughing happy (Percy) with Annabeth in the middle. I passed one bottle to Percy, then opened the first bottle and poured us each a glass. "To Percy! Happy twenty-first to the greatest cousin and friend I ever could've asked for. I love you, and I can't wait to drag you on every ridiculous, non-lethal adventure I can think of, from now until forever. And you have the next year to prepare for how many times you're gonna hear Taylor Swift's 22 at your next birthday."

"Hear hear!"

"Cheers!"

"Can't wait!"

The four of us clinked our glasses, and a moment later (like it'd been planned, which it probably had) a literal pod of dolphins burst out of the water, dancing and swirling in the waves. Percy groaned next to me while Annabeth, Grover, and I laughed.

"Poseidon knows how to put on a show for a birthday," I said. Percy sighed and shook his head, then dropped into the sand. The rest of us followed right after him, leaning back in the sand and watching the ocean sparkle and stretch out before us. The four of us stayed out there long into the night, laughing and talking and drinking by the surf.

When we finally decided it was time to head to bed, the trio helped me sneak through the woods again and into the heart of Camp. I wandered around happily, taking in everything while Percy and I made a beeline for his cabin. I'd have to leave earlier than early tomorrow to keep us all out of trouble, but for just one night we could manage to get away with it.

A Half-Blood's life was full of crazy, and even though I wasn't one, I intended to be part of every single thing that I could be part of for Percy, Annabeth, and everyone else he cared about for the rest of his life.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

PJO Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[will-shoelaces]

Prepare to receive ares campers.

Their injuries are yet to be decided

-david, son of athena, and chb's official pizza delivery guy

uhh, what'd they do?

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 Five Star (Chanlix) 🔞

Synopsis: Chris is a depressed college student. Felix is the hot delivery guy who shows up at his door.

Tags: Unprotected sex (obvs), depression, massages that turn into sex, pet names

A/N: This is literally your classic pizza guy porno trope. Happy Sunday Night!

Chris clicked “place order” on the UberEats app and tossed his phone to the side. He had 10 notifications from his school email that he was ignoring. Half were from his professors. He hadn’t been to class in over 2 weeks. After the fight with his parents at the beginning of the year over changing his major, and surrendering to their desire that he stick with his business major instead of switching to music, he’d barely left his apartment. He’d taken a music theory class as an elective the previous semester and fallen in love. His parents insisted it wasn’t practical and they’d stop paying for his tuition and apartment if he changed his major. So Chris had given up. On all of it.

He’d been awake for at least 24 hours and he couldn’t quite remember the last time he showered. He was singlehandedly keeping the kids who worked for his zip code of UberEats in business. Chris shuffled into the kitchen and pulled a beer out of the fridge. His phone went off right as he sat back down.

Felix is on his way with your order.

“Huh,” Chris mused. That was an unusual name. Of course one of the previous drivers was named Neveah so maybe it wasn’t that unusual. He took a sip of his beer and leaned his head back on the couch. He hated feeling like this, but he wasn’t sure how to fix it. A loud knock made him jump.

“Yeah, hold on!” he grabbed his wallet and opened the door.

“Double cheeseburger extra bacon and large fries and onion rings for Chris?” the delivery guy, apparently named Felix, read off the tag. He was hot. He was really hot. He was lean with blonde hair and freckles dusting his nose and cheeks with what Chris could only describe as the face of a god. The second thing he noticed was he was Korean. Chris only knew one other Korean in the whole school. He couldn’t stop himself from staring.

“Is that right?” Felix asked, prodding Chris for a response.

“Yeah, yeah that’s me. I’m Chris,” he said, fumbling with his wallet for the tip.

“Well, Chris, your arteries might slam shut after this,” Felix smiled.

“Maybe,” he handed Felix a $10 bill. He reached in his pocket to get change.

“No, keep it,” Chris insisted.

“That’s like a 75% tip,” the other boy pointed out.

“I know,” Chris knew he was still staring.

“Are you...okay?” Felix asked. It was the first time anyone had bothered to ask him for the sake of asking. Chris couldn’t stop his eyes from welling up behind his glasses.

“No, no I’m not okay,” he shook his head. He clutched his food bag and tried not to start sobbing in the hallway.

“Hey, whatever it is, it’ll work out,” Felix said.

“It won’t. It really won’t,” tears fell on Chris’s glasses and the bag.

“Can I come in?” the delivery boy with the face of an angel asked.

“Sure,” Chris sniffed.

He carefully took Chris’s elbow and stepped inside, steering them to the couch. The apartment looked like a depressed person lived there. It was a mess with old food containers from previous meals scattered on various surfaces. Felix gently took the bag from him and placed it on the coffee table, shoving trash out of the way to do it.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“It’s my parents,” Chris confessed. “If I don’t stay in the major they want me to stay in then they’ll cut me off. I have to stay the perfect Korean son, you know? I got a B for the first time in my life last semester. I’m lucky I’m smart or I would’ve flunked completely. Of course, now I’m flunking because I haven’t gone to class in weeks. I hate my major so much, though. I’m miserable.”

“What do you want to do?” Felix asked, his voice deep and soothing.

“Music. I took a music theory class last semester and it just...spoke to me. I’m in business right now and it’s awful. It’s boring and my classmates all think they’re gonna be CEOs one day. We’re in Indiana for fuck’s sake,” he looked up after he cussed. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” the other boy smiled. “I’m a delivery guy because my parents didn’t want me giving up a full ride scholarship to Stanford for the dance program here.”

“You dance?” Chris asked. Felix nodded.

“It’s my life. I’m good at other stuff, but dance has my soul. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. They basically disowned me, but I know they’ll get over it when I make it big someday. Then I’ll be the good Korean son,” he smiled.

“So you get it,” Chris took off his glasses and wiped his eyes.

“I definitely get it,” Felix put his hand on top of Chris’s.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be holding you up. You should go,” he said.

“You were my last delivery. It is almost 1am,” Felix told him. Chris looked at his watch. He’d even totally lost track of time.

“Then you should go home. You probably have class…” Chris began.

“Honestly? I hate my roommates and try to stay out of there as much as possible. I’m happy to stay as long as you need someone to sit with you,” Felix replied.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to guilt you into anything,” Chris said.

“I’m the only boy. Guilt has no effect on me anymore,” Felix laughed a little.

“I’m an only child,” Chris said.

“Oh shit, that’s rough,” Felix winced.

“Yeah. I guess guilt still does work on me,” he said.

“Not everyone is as resistant as I am,” the other boy grinned. “You should eat. I’m sure your burger is cold by now.”

“Like I haven’t eaten cold Chinese food for a week,” Chris laughed, but it sounded more like a sob.

“Changed it up, huh?” Felix teased.

“I was getting sick of Kung Pao chicken,” he replied. He opened the bag then looked at Felix. “I’m sorry. I can share.”

“I’ll just have an onion ring. However, I will take a beer if you’ve got any left,” Felix eyed the bottle on the table.

“They’re in the fridge. Help yourself,” Chris replied.

“Thanks,” Felix got his beer then sat back down. Chris had already finished half the fries and onion rings combo.

“Damn, you were hungry,” Felix observed.

“Actually not really. I think I make up for not sleeping by eating,” the other responded.

“How long have you been awake?” he asked. Chris thought for a second.

“Well, I thought it was 24 hours, but if it’s 1am then it’s really more like 27 or 28,” he replied.

“You haven’t slept in 27 or 28 hours?” Felix did a very poor job hiding his surprise. Chris shook his head.

“You need to sleep,” he insisted.

“I can’t. I’ve tried. I end up staring at the ceiling because my brain won’t stop spinning,” Chris sighed. Felix shifted a little in his seat.

“I know I’m a total stranger, but I know a lot of massage techniques so maybe I could give you a massage before I go?” he suggested.

“That would be nice,” Chris replied, dropping his gaze.

“You wouldn’t need to get naked. I can work just fine over clothes,” he was quick to add.

But what if I want to? Chris thought.

“I like that idea,” was what came out instead.

“After you shower then,” he suggested.

“I...don’t remember when’s the last time I took a shower,” Chris blushed.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to drag you in there and make sure you do it,” Felix seemed completely unphased by his statement. He seemed completely unphased by all of it. Chris was sitting there in a shirt that was falling apart and dirty sweatpants. He may or may not have smelled bad. Yet this stranger seemed okay with it. Though Chris supposed he wasn’t a total stranger. Felix understood what it felt like to be the perfect son and the crushing weight that came with it. He wasn’t only gorgeous, he was ballsy.

“You’re staring,” Felix said.

“Oh, sorry,” Chris immediately looked down at his lap again. Felix laughed softly, but it wasn’t hurtful. It was indulgent.

“I’m used to being stared at,” he told him. “Hazard of the profession.”

“Right,” Chris dared to look up.

“And I also know how hot I am,” he smirked. Chris felt his whole body blush. If that was even possible.

“I...you...I didn’t mean to…” Chris stuttered. Felix put his hand on top of Chris’s.

“Hey, I’m not gonna take advantage of you. I can tell you’re not doing well. I just want to help,” he insisted.

“Thank you. I mean, not that I thought you would. I haven’t had a guy like you ever even remotely try to flirt with me,” he replied.

“And what kind of guy am I?” Felix grinned.

“Nice, hot, brave enough to stick it to your parents,” Chris said, averting his eyes again. Felix gently turned his chin back to look at him.

“I have a feeling you’re pretty nice and hot when you aren’t stuck in this vicious cycle,” he said.

“You think so?” Chris was genuinely surprised by the compliment.

“Let’s get you showered and I’ll give you the best massage of your life,” Felix smiled softly.

“Okay,” he nodded. Felix got up and put the leftovers in the fridge. He pulled Chris up off the couch. He was strong for his size. Very strong.

“I’ll take care of you, Chris,” he told Chris when he bumped up against his chest.

“You will?” Chris tightened his grip on Felix’s hands.

“I will,” Felix confirmed.

“Thank you,” Chris whispered.

“You’re welcome. Now let’s get you showered,” he said. Felix started the shower and pulled Chris’s top off over his head. They stared at each other for a moment.

“You can take your shoes off since you’re gonna be here a while,” he said.

“Right,” Felix looked down at his feet. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Chris took the opportunity to take off his sweatpants and underwear and get in the shower. He was closing the curtain when Felix came back.

“You could’ve just told me you wanted to preserve your modesty,” he said. Chris was glad Felix couldn’t see his face.

“You did need to take off your shoes,” he replied.

“Fair enough. Should I get you clean clothes?” Felix asked.

“I’ll be okay with the towel,” Chris thought for a moment.

“Now you’re getting risqué,” the other boy teased, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. “Make sure you scrub everything.”

This guy really knew how to make him blush. Chris went as quickly as he could while remembering to wash his hair along with everything else. He shut off the water.

“Towel please,” Felix passed it to him without pulling back the curtain. Chris wrapped it around his waist and stepped out. Felix gave him a quick once over.

“Not bad,” he grinned.

“Thank you,” Chris replied quietly.

“Just the truth,” Felix followed him into the bedroom.

“How do you want it? You can put your clothes back on or any level of undress you’re comfortable with,” he said. Chris took a deep breath.

“If I cover myself with only the towel?” he asked.

“I promise I will remain professional. I won’t touch you anywhere you don’t want me to,” Felix told him. Chris knew he was serious.

“Okay,” he nodded.

“Got any lotion?” Felix asked.

“Top drawer,” the other replied as he settled on the bed. Chris hoped Felix would ignore the other 2 things in the drawer. At least for the moment. Felix didn’t say anything as he pulled out the bottle of lotion and settled next to one of Chris’s legs.

“Are your feet ticklish?” he asked.

“No,” Chris shook his head.

“Then I’ll start there,” Felix slowly started massaging Chris’s feet. He had no idea they were that tired and sore when he was barely walking around his apartment.

“Feel good?” Felix asked.

“Yeah, really good,” Chris replied. Felix moved up his calves. “So what year are you?”

“Sophomore. I’m 20,” Chris said, propping his chin up on his folded arms.

“I’m a freshman. Gonna have my 19th birthday next month,” Felix replied. “Damn you’ve got some knots in your calves.”

“You can go harder. If you need to,” Chris told him. Felix leaned more of his weight down on Chris’s legs.

“You’re definitely gonna make me work,” Felix laughed a little.

“You don’t have to,” Chris started.

“I told you I’d do it, so I’m gonna do it,” he slowly worked his way up Chris’s body until he reached the edge of the towel covering his ass.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“Ummm, work on my back first?” Chris suggested.

“Sure,” Felix positioned himself on the back of Chris’s thighs and began working out his tense back muscles. He felt himself relax for the first time in weeks under Felix’s hands.

“Wow,” Felix said.

“What?” Chris asked.

“You’re making some pretty suggestive sounds there,” he grinned.

“I was?” Chris turned to look at him. Felix leaned down so his chest was almost flush with Chris’s back.

“The only time I make a guy sound like that is when I have my cock in his ass and I’m fucking him into the mattress,” he breathed against Chris’s ear.

“Would you...do that to me?” Chris swallowed hard.

“Only if you want me to,” Felix replied. “Though I would’ve thought you’d be a top.” Chris shook his head.

“I am very much a bottom,” he replied. He rolled over under Felix so he was fully exposed, half hard, with a fully clothed Felix straddling him.

“What do you want from me?” Felix asked, not so subtlety eyeing Chris’s dick.

“I want you inside me, but...be gentle…” he stumbled over the words.

“Do you want me to make love to you?” Felix raised an amused eyebrow.

“I hate that term, but yes,” Chris consented.

“I can do that,” Felix pulled off his shirt and tossed it somewhere to the side. He leaned down and carefully kissed Chris. It was like an electric shock when their skin touched. For as much as Felix was trying to be gentle and take it slow, a fire ignited in the cores of their beings. Chris pulled Felix closer, licking into his mouth, holding onto his cheeks.

“I need you, Felix. I need you so much,” he breathed, eyes glossing over with tears again.

“It’s okay. I’m right here,” Felix reassured him, kissing his nose, cheeks, then his lips. “I’m right here.”

Felix managed to sit up long enough to wrestle out of the rest of his clothes and get the condoms and lube. Chris pulled him back down almost immediately.

“I’m gonna take good care of you. Don’t worry, baby,” he cooed as he lubed up his fingers. He teased at Chris’s rim causing his breath to hitch. “Relax, baby. I have to prep you.”

“Okay,” Chris replied. Felix carefully slid one long, thin finger in then another one quickly behind it. He slowly massaged Chris’s sensitive inner walls, feeling him relax under his touch. Once he had 3 fingers in, he began to scissor Chris’s hole open. Chris dropped his head against the pillow and sighed.

“Feel good, baby?” Felix asked.

“Uh huh,” Chris breathed. “It’s been a while.”

“I’ll be gentle until you tell me otherwise,” Felix kissed him slowly, withdrawing his fingers.

“Felix…” Chris whined when he felt empty.

“Don’t worry,” Felix sat up and rolled on the condom ensuring it was generously lubed. Chris didn’t even have to be prompted to spread his legs. Felix pushed into him gently, watching for signs of pain or distress. Chris pulled him down against his chest and wiggled his hips, fully seating Felix inside him. He placed panting kisses on the corners of the other boy’s mouth.

“We’ve got time, baby,” Felix smiled. Chris looked up at him.

“Go deep. I want to feel you in my lungs,” he breathed.

“I don’t think I’m quite that big, but I’ll do my best,” Felix laughed, showing his dimples. He brushed Chris’s bangs back and began grinding his hips hard against Chris’s pelvis. Chris was dying for a connection. Maybe this was the wrong way to go about it, but it felt good. It felt right - having the delivery boy buried balls deep in him. Then Felix brushed his prostate for the first time.

“Fuck!” he grunted.

“Found somewhere good?” Felix teased. Chris nodded. Felix lied down so his entire body was on top of Chris’s and rolled his hips.

“You want me to finish you fast or keep going?” he asked, his face in Chris’s neck.

“Surprise me,” Chris replied, barely above a whisper. Felix kissed him hard, brushing his most sensitive spot with every roll of his hips. Chris whined into his mouth as he felt his orgasm building.

“Stay with me,” he breathed against Chris’s mouth. Felix snapped his hips into Chris two, three times and then Chris came hard between them. Chris was writhing around, smearing come all over both of them. Felix emptied into the condom with a feral growl. Chris dimly registered Felix pulling out and disposing of the condom. He felt him get off the bed then a warm, wet cloth on his chest.

“Gotta clean you up,” Felix smiled at him. “We made a mess.”

“Oh, thanks,” Chris gave him a sleepy smile. Felix carefully cleaned him until he was satisfied then put the washcloth back in the bathroom. He crawled back in bed and Chris wrapped his arms around him. Then Felix started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Chris asked.

“This is like a bad porno. You banged the pizza guy only I was delivering a burger instead of pizza,” Felix replied, rolling his head over to look at the other boy. Chris started to laugh too.

“I guess I did,” he grinned.

“The delivery guy is happy to bang you whenever you want,” Felix cuddled up next to him.

“I think I might actually be able to sleep,” Chris yawned.

“Then you’re gonna have to keep me around so I can fuck you to sleep regularly,” Felix kissed him.

“I like that plan,” Chris hugged him.

“Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Felix told him.

“Thank you,” Chris felt the weight of those words deep in his chest.

“You’re welcome,” Felix smiled. “Now sleep.”

Chris rolled over with Felix cuddled behind him and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. This was good. This was very good.

[olliewesker]

The Smiling Critters Take Real Life!

Episode 1: The Package of A Lifetime

(Synopsis)

When Angel saw the listing, it was too good to be true, eight whole, vintage plushies, in excellent condition, for that low of a price? It had to be a scam.

But Angel bought them anyway, and of course, when they arrived, there was something very odd about them.

They were all alive.

(Story Below! Or click the link above for the AO3 entry. It has better tags)

Angel sat alone in their living room on a cloudy summer morning. They’d already eaten breakfast and weren’t planning on doing much else with their day. As of right now the most they were doing was laying on the couch and eating leftover pizza from last night while waiting on their Amazon delivery.

About a week ago, Angel was browsing Amazon for some new plushies when they saw something very, very interesting.

It was a listing for a bundle of plushies…but not just any plushies, it was the entire Smiling Critters collection from Playtime Inc. Angel was absolutely floored when they saw the listing, and even moreso floored when they saw the pictures of each plushie, showing how good of a condition they were all in. And Angel thought it wasn’t possible to be any more floored than they already were at that time, but then they laid eyes on the price for all of those plushies.

$14.56. For 8 plushies that hadn’t been released since the 80s, and were some of the most sought-after collectors items ever.

Angel didn’t think twice about snatching them up from that listing, and once they’d given up their credit card details, they finally took the time to look at the description of the listing. Just in case they’d missed something important…

“I bought all these a long time ago for my son, Liam.” The blurb began. “But times change, things grow different, and even after he left I’ve just been sort of holding onto them. But as of late I’ve been convinced to give them up finally, so to whoever buys these, I hope they bring you as much joy as they did to my son when he was still around!”

After reading that, Angel felt really guilty for mentally calling the seller an idiot for selling the plushies at such a low price…but oh well.

And today was the day the package was supposed to arrive. Angel never trusted Amazon’s projected arrival time, but they would be pleasantly surprised when the doorbell to their house would ring, and a notification would pop up on their phone signifying that the order had arrived.

In an instant they shot to their feet and strode over to the door and swung it open. The delivery driver was seemingly already long gone. Angel took a moment to applaud that before taking the package inside. Angel sat it down on the edge of the coffee table in front of the couch, and once they did, they noticed a note taped to the top of the box…

Angel removed it from the box and squinted to look at it, as it was written in very old-style cursive that was almost illegible.

"These little guys just love to play, may these Smiling Critters bring some joy to your day!" Angel read the note aloud. They found it quite cheesy, but equally as endearing.

But then all of a sudden…the box began to shake…Angel froze up in startlement as their eyes locked onto the shifting box. It was as if there were several live beings moving around in there, trying to get out…Angel could even hear what sounded like muffled speaking from within it…no way these plushies could be alive like that…there must’ve been some kind of mix-up in the delivery.

Angel slowly and hesitantly moved over to the package and began to slowly peel off the tape…and once they fully peeled it off…

“HELLO!” A chorus of voices all rang out at once, all in a sing-songy voice as the package top burst open with all of the plushies jumping out at once.

Angel let out a horrifically loud scream and jumped back onto the couch in fear. “Wh-What the heck?! What in the- What?!” He sputtered out.

One of the plushies, that being Hoppy Hopscotch, looked over at Dogday, (Who was front and center in the box) with an expression of annoyance.

“Great plan Dogday…now he’s terrified of us.” She groaned.

Dogday frowned in exasperation and looked back to Hoppy before responding. “H-Hey! I thought it would be nice t-to surprise him!” He whimpered.

Bubba Bubbaphant cleared his throat before talking. “It was a nice thought Dogday…but uh, we kinda warned you that it wouldn’t turn out like you hoped it would-“

Dogday sighed in defeat and rubbed his head, then looked up towards Angel, who was holding a pillow in front of themselves defensively.

“Um…sorry for scaring you like that, mister. I thought it would be nice if we all…jumped out and surprised you.” Dogday apologized.

Angel slowly lowered the pillow. “You…you guys are alive?” They questioned.

Dogday scratched the back of his head and hopped out of the box…jumping right off the coffee table and landing flat on his face.

“Ow…” He squeaked pathetically. Angel unintentionally let out a snicker at that.

Meanwhile, all the other Smiling Critters rushed to the edge of the box, all crying out in concern for Dogday. Buuut as soon as they had all crowded around the edge, the box tipped over and sent them all careening down to the floor. With a comical plop, they all landed in a pile, and the empty box fell on top of the pile of critters. Angel let out another snicker.

The critters all began to move around inside the box, all going in different directions and walking and crawling on top of each other.

“H-Hey, I can’t see!”

“HOPPY GET YOUR FOOT OUT OF MY FACE-“

“GET YOUR BUTT OUT OF MINE!”

Dogday quickly got back to his feet and shoved the box off of his friends, freeing them from their ‘prison’.

“Thanks Dogday!” The critters all cried out in thankfulness.

Angel had been watching the scene the whole time, and while they’d initially found it creepy and unnatural, considering they were all plushies that had just come to life…now, Angel was beginning to find it pretty adorable.

After making sure all his friends were good and well and back on their feet, Dogday turned back towards Angel and cleared his throat. “To uh, answer your question sir, yep! We’re alive!” The dog said, placing his hands on his sides in a proud stance.

“Uhh…how though?” Angel asked, setting aside the pillow they were holding.

At Angel’s question, all of the critters slowly turned their heads towards Bubba Bubbaphant (Except Catnap, who had fallen asleep on the floor under the table).

Bubba made a noise of annoyance and glanced around at the other critters before clearing his throat and speaking. “Well…you read the note you got with the package, right?”

Angel nodded.

“There’s your answer!” Bubba said, nodding.

“Huh…so you’re like…voodoo creatures?” Angel stated, for they had watched Night Of The Living Dummy last night.

“Well I suppose so. If…that’s what you’d like to think.” Bubba mumbled the second part of his sentence.

“Well uh…how is this like…possible?” Angel asked.

Bubba held his hand up, preparing to say something, yet no words came out, and eventually he just put his hand back down in embarrassment.

Angel began to look to each of the critters one-by-one to see if he could get an answer from any of them, but no answers could be found in any of them.

“Hey man, if Bubba doesn’t know it, we don’t either.” Kickin Chicken said with a shrug.

“Alllllright then.” Angel sighed and tried to lean back on the pillow they were previously using, but then they felt something much, much different than the pillow meet their arm. Angel scrambled backwards, and saw that Catnap had somehow gotten onto the couch with nobody realizing, and was now laying up against the pillow comfortably.

“What the hel- heck?? How’d you get up here?” Angel sputtered out.

Catnap slowly inched his eyelids open and signed something out in sign language. Angel deflated at that, as they couldn’t understand sign language at all.

Dogday seemed to pick up on this, and tried and failed to jump onto the couch. He quickly gave up and just decided to talk from the floor again.

“He said you have really nice pillows!” Dogday translated.

“Uh, okay, but how did you get up here?” Angel questioned Catnap again.

In response, Catnap held an index finger over his mouth and shook his head, indicating that he wouldn’t tell.

Angel sighed and just patted Catnap’s head in response. Catnap purred in response.

By now, all of the Smiling Critters’ attentions had wandered elsewhere, and they were now beginning to explore Angel’s living room.

“W-Wow…this table is really pretty…” Craftycorn, who was underneath Angel’s coffee table and looking up through the glass.

Meanwhile, Hoppy and Kickin had began racing to climb up a bookshelf in the corner of the room.

And in that very moment, Angel came to a realization.

They had just adopted 8 ambiguously-aged plushie beings into their home.

How the hell was Angel going to manage all of this?

[verdemoun]

I was originally just gonna give the take that Javier, Bill and Dutch all look way cooler in RDR1 than RDR2, but it got me thinking what the other VDLs would look like when older, both in 1911 and in timewarp era.

Arthur goes gray and Hosea gets emotional about being able to see his son go gray. His muscle becomes less defined and he's got a significantly softer dad-bod by the time the gang get there. He can still throw a damn mean punch (exclusively at Micah, who usually started it).

Sean fills out and looks less like a bean pole but keeps his hair at the same length. Getting it professionally cut and otherwise looks surprisingly clean-cut despite never getting a job more advanced than pizza delivery guy. People are guilty of getting 'oh no the pizza guy is hot' flustered when he's delivering pizzas.

Lenny is the only one who actively keeps up a gym membership for health so he's the cliche surprisingly swole professor.

Kieran just looks rattier. I love him but his hair gets longer and is in no way maintained except for when either Bessie or Javier corner him to brush his hair (which Kieran adores). He does keep his beard at a more even length but still can never grow a proper thick moustache. He can has and will be mistaken for homeless.

Sadie gets particularly obvious crow's feet from angrily squinting but miss her with that ageist shit she owns it and looks like the meanest bisexual protecting her soft delicate flower husband.

Hosea ends up with a hunch because one day he woke up with a twinge in his back and never stopped. His hair thins a little and he goes completely silver/white but Bessie still thinks he is a contender for sexiest man alive.

Charles looks almost unchanged from his 1907 appearance until later age when his face starts to sag. Working in trade and being an avid woodworker he keeps a lot of his functional muscles and Arthur is constantly in awe of his beautiful husband but also slightly paranoid he will leave him for someone more attractive because if there's one thing Arthur never gets its a self-esteem meanwhile Charles thinks relaxed older Arthur who no longer needs to be built like a tank for survival is hotter than 1899 Arthur.

Grimshaw goes completely gray and wears her hair in a more modern style. She is silver fox and she can step on me.

Molly is a beauty product guru and often called out as a hypocrite online because while she preaches aging naturally she happens to age like marble and could still be mistaken for late 20s in her early 40s.

[chbnews]

I swear, demigod is just another word for traumatized.

-david, son of athena and chb's official pizza delivery guy

Yea, pretty much… there are a few kids who aren’t traumatized it’s [REDACTED] crazy dude! -Klaus Hartman, Cabin 12

[catindabag]

Can you make oc’s based off your Au? :)

Well, sure! That’s not an issue. Besides, there’s already a lot of original characters running around and causing havoc/chaos in my crazy TBOSAS on Crack!AU.

I mean, we already have:

Peacekeeper Joe (AKA: Officer Jovilius who wants to quit his job because of the Mentors’ nonstop shenanigans)

The poor pizza delivery guy (AKA: Pizza Pertinax of the Pizza Palace)

Mad Uncle Achilles Ravinstill (He’s the youngest son of President Ravinstill who got arrested for smuggling illegal fireworks)

The “sacred” Bichon Frisé puppies (AKA: the real leaders of Panem)

Mama Monty and her deadly apple pies (She’s a real nightmare national treasure and an infamous “war hero” of Panem)

Mama Cardew (AKA: The Capitol’s scariest and deadliest entity to ever exist)

Mommy Anderson (She’s the one who blackmails people for a living)

Mommy Anderson’s underpaid camera crew (No comment)

Vice President Aurelia Ravinstill (She’s Felix Ravinstill’s mom who’s allergic to charity, poor people, and homeless Hilari)

Elmer Coin (the current Mole President of District 13)

Poor Aeneas Crane (The unfortunate older brother of Arachne Crane who sleeps in a tiny doghouse)

Little Plotinus Heavensbee (the favored and “perfect” younger brother of homeless Hilarius Heavensbee)

Creepy Mr. Heavensbee Sr. (No comment)

Freaky Mrs. Heavensbee (No comment)

Festus Creed’s mom (The current ✨Queen of Neglect✨)

Festus Creed’s dumpster (Darling Demeter the Dumpster)

Festus Creed’s freaky pet rats (Odysseus and Penelope)

Tigris Snow’s cheese fairies

Coryo Snow’s cabbage deities

Coryo Snow’s lima bean elves

Clemensia’s hamster (Hercules)

Gaius Breen’s possum (Patroclus)

Domitia’s emotional support cow (Lady Claudia)

Dean Casca Highbottom’s goldfish (Venus)

Hilarius Heavensbee’s crusty chihuahua (Caracalla)

Domitia’s father’s emotional support cow (Lord Claudius/the real Mayor of D10)

Dennis Fling’s doctor (Quack Dr. Majorian who works at the Capitol Black Market)

Great great grandfather Vipsanius Cornelius Felix Ravinstill (He’s the man who married off his 24 beautiful daughters and 16 sons to every single Capitol Noble House in order to make the ultimate/craziest/most complicated ✨Royal Family Tree✨)

Don’t worry. There will be more weird original characters popping here and there as the story continues. Lol.