#I do want my fucking letterman back eventually though

[repurposedbones]

in july 5th, 1944, my grandfather lent your family a green silver oval vegetable dish. your ancestors promised to return it upon the end of the second world war in germany. however, this cherished heirloom has never again touched the skin of my blood relatives. i am kindly asking for this priceless symbol of family pride to be returned.

awaiting your prompt response

rk

Oh dude I’m so sorry, I cut off my family before I could get any of the cool inheritance goodies

I think I might still have my brother’s phone number though, maybe you could get him to ask about it for you? Also I want my letterman back so if you could recover that too while you’re at it we could do like a swap…

[steddiewithachance]

Will You Still Need Me?

Summary: Steve Harrington is avoiding telling his professional-musician-boyfriend, Eddie, that he's going deaf because he's worried about what will happen when he does.

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Or Read on AO3

June 13, 1992: A month later

Steve startles awake when he hears something fall on the other side of the apartment. The bed’s empty, he notices. That's disappointing. Steve brushes a hand across Eddie’s side of the bed to feel how cold it is, to check how long Eddie’s been up for, but he pauses when he feels a piece of paper where his boyfriend should be. Did Eddie leave a note? That goof.

Steve snatches it off the pillow and holds it over his face.

Steve, 

I was going to recite to you this big long monologue of all the reasons I love you and all the ways you’re important to me, but maybe it’s better if you read them. Don’t want you to miss a single syllable of my devotion to you, Sweetness. So I made a long cheesy trail of notes for you to follow, don’t make fun of me for it.

Yours Always,

Teddy

Steve is still half asleep so it takes him another groggy read-through to understand what he’s looking at. 

He sits up and does indeed see a trail of little pink notes, photographs, and rose petals twisting around the bedroom, under the door, and presumably down the hall. And Steve’s heart is pounding because, well he doesn’t want to get his hopes up or anything, but this sappy romantic gesture sounds like a precursor to something bigger. He’s frozen in place, too afraid to move. He eventually scoots off the bed and picks up the first note. 

‘I love you for engaging in my interests even though I wouldn’t blame you for not caring.’ It’s paired with an old photo of a DND game with the kids. Eddie’s DMing with Steve on his lap. 

The next few: ‘I love you for always trying to make little kids in shopping carts smile when we pass them at the store.’ and ‘I love how you can tell if I wasn’t in the shower long enough to condition my hair to your high standards so you make me get back in and do it right. Sometimes I take quick showers just so you’ll lay into me for it.’

The notes and photos are a lot more random than Steve had anticipated. ‘I love the way you will patiently explain the rules of various sports to me even when it’s been seven years of watching games together and I still don’t get it.’ There’s a photo near that note that was taken by Robin of the time Steve and Eddie swapped clothes at a sleepover. Eddie’s posing in Steve’s letterman jacket and tiny gym shorts and Steve is giggling in the background dressed in leather and denim. 

Steve gets to the door and realizes none of the notes have mentioned music or anything related to Eddie’s shows at all. Steve wonders if it was a conscious decision. Wonders if Eddie was being sensitive about Steve’s hearing problem. He swings the door open to see the trail continue all the way down the hall and around the corner. He huffs and keeps reading. There are notes about being a good “mom”, one about Eddie cherishing the nights they cook together. There’s a note about Steve’s smile, what it felt like to decorate their first apartment together, how Eddie loves that both of them have taken to calling Wayne “Pops”, but none about music. When Steve finally rounds the corner he sees Eddie sitting on the couch nervously.

“This was actually a terrible idea because I had to listen to you slowly shuffle down the hallway reading my notes. My anxiety is at an all-time high!” Eddie announces dramatically and Steve laughs. 

On the coffee table in front of him, there’s a big bouquet of flowers and a basket full of snacks and skin/hair care products that Steve loves. This is all a fucking lot. Positive attention makes Steve’s skin crawl. Eddie pats the couch and Steve slowly ambles over. He sits down and proceeds to not know what to do with himself.

“Stevie,” Eddie digs into his pocket and sets a little green velvet box on Steve’s thigh. 

Oh boy. 

“Obviously we can’t do anything legal, but I still want you to know that I wanna be yours forever. A tangible promise of loyalty. Is that okay?” 

Steve covers his face. He doesn’t know how people handle being proposed to in public. It’s mortifying enough in private. All he can do is nod. He feels Eddie prop the little box open. Inside is a golden ring, patterned with fancy flourishes. It reminds Steve of ornate picture frames in art galleries. He likes it a lot. Steve holds out his left hand.

Eddie beams, slips the ring on, and looks like he’s relieved it fits.

“Mwahaha. You’re mine now.” Eddie proclaims with the tone he uses to voice villains when he plays DND. Then he grabs Steve’s left hand and pushes the middle and ring finger down while pulling out the thumb, pointer, and pinky. Steve’s pinky finger barely stays up on its own but Eddie gives him a coy smile.

“This means ‘I love you’ in sign language.” 

And that’s the first expression Steve learns in ASL.

[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

it was always you (falling for me) - chapter 2

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides Rating: Teen & up (for swearing) Relationships: Prinxiety, Moceit, and QPR Intrulogical (eventually this will develop into Intrulosleep!) Warnings: Language; Remus being Remus; Shakespeare fans will probably hate my interpretation(s) of the plays I reference here, if the English major friend I showed this to is anything to go by, and I’m very sorry about that 😂 Word Count: 9042

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: In a world where you and your soulmate swap dreams once a month, seven young adults enter the same college as freshmen. Each of them is wondering when they’ll find their soulmate and what that will mean for them.

Notes: Secret Santa gift for sanders-sides-fics!

Chapter 2

Roman had a problem. A person-shaped problem. Specifically, a problem shaped like his brother’s excessively pretty roommate, who seemed to take pleasure exclusively in needling Roman every chance they got.

Roman groaned, burying his face in one of the pillows on his bed.

“Hm?” his roommate, Patton, said sympathetically.

“I swear Virgil has, like, an agenda against soulmates, or something,” Roman said, rolling over and staring despairingly at the ceiling.

“Now, kiddo, I’m sure that’s not true.”

Roman lifted his head to look at Patton. “Aren’t I older than you?”

“Only by a few months,” Patton said serenely. “Spiritually, you’re my kiddo.”

“Pat, that makes no sense.”

Patton blinked up at him with a too-innocent face. “If it feels dad to you, just don’t think about it any father.”

“Oh my god.”

Patton giggled, a noise of pure delight, then circled back to Roman’s original topic. “What makes you think he’s got something against soulmates?”

“Uh, the way ze rails against them at every opportunity, for a start?” Roman sat up. “We have argued five times in the last two weeks about soulmates, and only three of them were even about Shakespeare like usual!”

“Haven’t you only known Virgil for, like, three weeks?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not the point.” Roman climbed down the ladder to the ground. “Also, I feel like that makes it worse?”

“Hmm, maybe.” Patton seemed amused. “You talk about them a lot, you know?”

“He’s so annoying!” Roman said defensively. “Ze gets this stupid smirk like ze knows something I don’t and he doesn’t even seem to care about constructing sound arguments half the time!” He put his laptop into his backpack.

“Going somewhere?” Patton asked.

“Yeah, Virgil and Remus invited me over to their dorm to study.”

“Oh,” Patton said, a funny sort of look on his face like he was trying not to laugh.

“What?” Roman asked.

“Nothing, nothing.” Patton waved him away, still smiling to himself. “Have fun studying with Virgil.”

“I will,” Roman said brightly, heading out the door.

***

“I want to go get ice cream,” Remus announced suddenly, hopping to his feet. “Who’s coming with?” It was late, almost midnight, and Roman was sitting on the floor in what had been a nice triangle with Remus and Virgil until Remus had stood. The three of them had been alternately working on homework and arguing about Disney characters.

“Sure,” Virgil said with a shrug, tugging their hoodie up onto their shoulders—they’d been wearing it dangling off their body, with only their wrists in the sleeves holding it on. “Let me fix my eyeliner first, though.”

Remus nodded distractedly, looking around the room and turning in a circle.

“Whatcha looking for?” Roman inquired, getting to his feet as well.

“My wallet,” Remus said, gaze still roving around. “I don’t know where I—”

“By your chapstick,” Roman said.

“Ah!” Remus dove under his desk, scrabbled on the floor, and emerged with his wallet clutched triumphantly in one hand and his chapstick in the other. “Thank you.”

“How the fuck did you know that?” Virgil asked, turning away from the mirror hung on the door with their eyeliner in their hand. They’d reapplied it to one eye, in a perfect, pointed wing; the other eye still had the only slightly less perfect, barely faded wing they’d been wearing this whole time. It matched their black lipstick and the carefully blended eyeshadow on their upper eyelids.

“He put it down there when he was telling the story about trying to collect dried gum off the street,” Roman explained. “And the chapstick was already there right next to it. So that’s how I remembered.”

Remus nodded. “I would have gotten there in a minute, probably,” he agreed.

“I still don’t understand how the fuck you knew that, but good for y’all, I guess,” Virgil said, turning back to the mirror.

“ADHD solidarity,” Roman explained.

Remus made finger guns at him, nodding. “ADHD solidarity,” he agreed.

Virgil paused halfway through drawing the other wing on. “Oh, that makes sense.” They picked up the line again, their hand perfectly steady, drawing it out to a fine point. “I thought you said you were autistic?” they added after a moment, their face holding perfectly still as they filled in the eyeliner with a practiced hand; their monolid eyelids allowed them to draw the wings of their eyeliner wide and dramatic.

“Yeah, I’m both. There are high rates of comorbidity, and also they’re both genetic, so neurodivergence runs in families,” Roman explained, the sentence rolling out of his mouth without him stumbling over the words once or having to think about it at all. “Did you know about ten percent of the population is probably ADHD?” he went on eagerly. “It’s super underdiagnosed. Especially because of race and gender biases in doctors who diagnose it, and the misconception that it’s only something children have. I only got diagnosed because Remus did when we were little, and we’re twins, so then they tested me too. Even though we aren’t identical. It’s super frequent for identical twins to both have ADHD if one of them has it, though.” Roman bounced on the balls of his feet, tapping the tip of his finger against his thumb. “I wish we were identical, I think it’d be so funny. Like, impersonating each other, and things. We could make such good video skits.”

“We make fantastic video skits already,” Remus protested.

“Okay, fair. But you know what I mean. And we could switch places for a day and see who noticed. All the stuff twins do in stories. Twins are always identical in stories, it’s so annoying, I wish there were more stories with fraternal twins.” Roman paused for a second, his mind hovering for an instant between a not-fully-realized train of thought about the gender politics of twin representation in stories and the question of what animals were most likely to have twins. He chose, almost before he was aware there was a choice, the animals question, his emotions nudging him away from the energy talking about gender representation would take up. “Do you think kittens dream?” he asked, only a second or two after he’d stopped talking in the first place.

“Yeah, probably,” Remus responded without missing a beat, likely following his train of thought. “Better question, do other animals have soulbonds, and how do they know if so?”

“Maybe it’s a scent thing,” Roman said thoughtfully.

“Ooh, like with glands or some shit?” Remus looked thoughtful. “That could make sense. I wonder—I bet there’s answers on the internet. I’m going to look this up later. Are you coming, too, by the way? To get ice cream?”

Roman thought it over. “Sure,” he agreed.

“I’m ready,” Virgil announced, capping their eyeliner and setting it down on hir desk. “Also, I got whiplash about five times just listening to that conversation.”

“Good, my chaos is overtaking another victim and soon I shall rule the world. Let’s go!” Remus led the other two out the door and started walking towards the end of campus.

“Where are we going, exactly?” Roman inquired, shoving his hands into the pockets of his red letterman jacket to keep them warm.

“There’s an ice cream shop that’s open till one in the morning about ten minutes away walking,” Remus said over his shoulder. “Logan and I found it the first weekend here.”

“You two went in search of sweets without me?” Roman put a hand to his heart. “I’m hurt,” he declared in his most dramatic voice.

“Oh, shut up, we would have gotten around to telling you about it eventually. I mean, I’m telling you right now, so.” Remus shrugged. “Virge, aren’t you cold?”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty, so it’s worth it,” Virgil said, tossing their head so the long hair on the top of their undercut swished. They were wearing a distressed band tee and a black skater skirt over fishnet leggings and a pair of doc martens. It was quite chilly out, and even though they were wearing a hoodie too, Roman understood why Remus had been concerned.

“You are very pretty,” Roman told them seriously. Even aside from their clearly carefully chosen outfit, this was true. Their eyes were round and curious and a captivating shade of dark brown. Even with the boost from the platform of the shoes they were wearing, they were tiny. Roman was sure they couldn’t be more than 5’2” without the boots. The hair on top of their undercut was very long, almost down to their waist, contrasting with the closely-shaved back and sides of their head. About six inches on the ends of their hair were dyed purple. Their makeup, of course, was flawless, as was their golden-brown skin, which was just a little bit darker than Roman’s. He made a mental note to ask them about their skincare routine sometime; no matter how much care he treated his skin with, the acne on his cheeks refused to go away. It was his least favorite side effect of taking testosterone. “But you can be pretty and warm at the same time, if you want. I hate being cold. But I respect your decision to be pretty and cold if you want to,” he added quickly.

Virgil let out a slightly nervous laugh, rubbing the back of their neck. “Thanks, I think.” Their eyes widened as they looked past him. “Oh, my god, Remus, shut up!”

“What?” Roman asked, looking over at Remus, who was giving Virgil an evil grin.

“Nothing,” Virgil snapped.

“I didn’t say anything,” Remus said innocently.

“Shut up!” Virgil repeated, flipping the hood of their hoodie up and dragging it over their face.

“What’s going on?” Roman asked, confused, while Remus burst into cackles of laughter.

“Nothing!” Virgil repeated with great emphasis.

Roman let out a sigh of frustration, but Virgil seemed genuinely upset about whatever Remus had done when Roman wasn’t looking, so he dropped it. Maybe Remus would explain later.

Remus did not explain later; however, he did turn around to walk backwards after the silence had stretched on long enough to become awkward. “Is the ocean a soup? Discuss,” he commanded.

“Oh, not this again!” Roman groaned. “No, absolutely not!”

“Yes,” Virgil said, almost as soon as Roman stopped talking.

“No!” Roman stamped his foot. “That makes no sense!”

“It makes lots of sense. Explain how it’s not soup,” Virgil challenged.

The resulting argument lasted them all the way to the ice cream shop and halfway through their treats.

“Aren’t you going to take a side?” Roman demanded of Remus at last.

Remus looked up from his cone. “Oh, no, this is very entertaining for me, I could watch you two bicker all month. Please keep it up.”

“You’re a terrible person,” Roman told him, trying not to laugh.

“I never claimed to be anything else,” Remus said happily.

***

“—and that’s how you do it. It’s really easy, but it’s so fun, I could balance chemical equations for hours,” Remus said, bopping the tip of his dry-erase marker against the giant whiteboard in the library for emphasis. He and Roman and Virgil had all met up here to study; it was a sunny afternoon, and they’d gotten a nice spot by the window. The marker left a little black mark next to the diagram Remus had spent the last ten minutes drawing; he wiped the dot away with his finger. He was wearing a turtleneck with horizontal black-and-white stripes and a pair of faded jeans with paint splatters all over them and huge rips in the front that ran from his mid-thighs almost down to his ankles; he’d finished the outfit off with socks in sandals and a black felt beret. His outfit—vaguely artistic, but mostly just terrible—contrasted comically with the intensely technical pseudo-lecture on chemistry he’d just given.

Roman nodded without looking up. “I remember balancing those was fun,” he agreed. He hadn’t taken a chemistry class in a couple of years now, but Remus was majoring in it, and the best way for Remus to study was to explain it out loud, so he’d gathered Roman and Virgil in the library. They’d even been able to snag one of the coveted whiteboards. Roman was able to focus on his notes better with Remus’s animated talking in the background, and Virgil preferred quiet but was willing to put on his headphones to block out Remus’s noise, so all in all this arrangement worked out well for all three of them.

“Yes!” Remus agreed with a happy wiggle. He picked up his water bottle off the table and took a long sip. “Okay, next I have a bunch of molecules I have to memorize the structures of. Do you need anything first?” He addressed his question to both of them, but Virgil seemed pretty focused—or perhaps his music was loud enough to drown out other noises.

Roman, however, thought the question over. “Yes, actually, can you help me go over my lines for this one scene? It’s not very long.”

“Mmhm.” Remus held out his hands expectantly, and Roman handed him his script. Remus began fiddling with the dog-eared bottom corner of the page it was open to, folding it back and forth.

Roman dug in the pocket of his cargo shorts—he liked cargo shorts, partly for the shape but mostly for the pockets—and handed Remus a star-shaped fidget toy made of sequins that could be flipped back and forth. He’d rather the corner of the script didn’t get torn off by mistake.

“I think I’m off book, I just want to make sure,” he said as Remus accepted the toy and began fidgeting with it.

Remus nodded, scanning the page. “Sounds good. It’s just this one page?”

“Yeah. Ready?”

Remus nodded, and Roman launched into the scene. His character had most of the lines; it was essentially a glorified monologue. Remus interjected the two lines from other characters, using a hilarious nasally voice that made it hard for Roman to stay in character without breaking to laugh, but he successfully made it through the final line before dissolving into snickers.

“You’re word-perfect, kid,” Remus proclaimed as Roman got ahold of himself, handing him back the script.

Roman grinned. “Thank you!”

Remus nodded and took another sip of water before wiping down the whiteboard and launching into a ramble about the molecular structures he had to memorize.

Roman had just about tuned Remus out again and slipped back into the headspace where he could focus on his work when Remus broke off. “Logan!” he exclaimed, sounding delighted.

Roman looked up, and so did Virgil, pulling off hir headphones. Roman followed Remus’s gaze, and there indeed was Logan, his flat top haircut and dark academia outfit unmistakeable. He was stepping out of the stairwell that led down from the floor above, adjusting the strap of the leather messenger bag they used instead of a backpack. Even at this distance, the pins he kept on the bag were visible, neatly affixed in alternating rows on the bag’s buckle straps—a demiboy flag, an aromantic flag, an enamel pin shaped like an open book, and a handful of other pins Logan had collected from the university’s cultural centers during orientation. Roman had a few of that last category on his backpack himself; he knew he and Logan had matching land acknowledgment pins now, but he wasn’t sure if any of the other pins they’d chosen matched.

Remus darted across the wide open floor, weaving his way around a few students. “Logan! Hi!”

Logan looked up, a small smile finding its way onto his face as he saw Remus. He said something—presumably a greeting—but was too far away for Roman to hear, since he was speaking at a normal tone.

Remus seized Logan by the hand and dragged them towards Roman and Virgil. Logan laughed and said something in protest, pushing his square glasses up his wide nose as he followed Remus.

“Remus, I have to go to class,” Logan was insisting as they got close enough for Roman to hear. “Hello, Roman. Virgil.” They adjusted their already-immaculate clothing, the tendons in their thin hands flexing as they smoothed their mustard-brown cable knit sweater vest and tugged on the rolled-up sleeves of their periwinkle button down shirt.

Virgil gave a two-fingered salute. “Sup.”

“Hi Logan,” Roman said happily. “We’re studying!”

“Very nice,” Logan said, raising Remus’s hand—which was still clasping his own—and gently pressing it with their other hand. “I am always glad to see you, Remus, but I can’t stay long.”

“Okay,” Remus said. “I just wanted to say hi.” He gave Logan a quick, tight hug around the ribs before releasing them just as fast as he’d darted in.

Logan smiled again. “Hello, then. I hope your studying is going well?”

He received nods from the group, and gave them his own nod in return.

“You’ve got to go,” Remus reminded him. “You don’t like to be late.”

“True. I’ll see you later, dear.”

Remus nodded. “Wanna hang out tomorrow night?”

Logan considered this. “Maybe. I’m going to the Black Student Union meeting tomorrow evening. So it would have to be after that.”

“Okay, I can do that! I love you!”

Logan smiled. “I love you too, Rem.” They made as if to leave, then paused. “Roman, while I’m thinking of it—are you and Patton still free for lunch tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Roman confirmed. Logan and Patton had two classes together, and so together with Roman they’d formed a tight-knit little friend group very quickly; the three of them tried to make sure to meet up for lunch at least once a week.

“Wonderful. I’ll text our groupchat about it. See you then.” Logan tugged his hand out of Remus’s grip, waved, and set off at a brisk pace back towards the stairs.

***

“I’m telling you, Virgil, Oberon and Titania are a really good example of how soulmates can make it through rough patches!”

“Bullshit. They’re obviously not a metaphor for soulmates, why would the fae even have soulmates? Their story is a cautionary tale,” Virgil said languidly, lying on their back on the floor of their room.

“No!” Roman pounded his fist on the floor. “Why do you always do this?”

“Because it’s funny,” Virgil replied with a snicker.

“But you always bash on soulmates, specifically!” Roman said.

“Yeah, because I think society’s emphasis on soulbonds is dumb.” Virgil shrugged. “Anyway, if you think Oberon and Titania’s relationship is a good example of anything, I have some concerns.”

“No—no, stop! I didn’t mean it like that! They’re fae, like you said. I obviously don’t condone any of the ways they treated each other! I’m just saying that viewing them as a metaphor for soulmates makes a really interesting lens to view the other couples in the play! Right, Logan?” He turned expectantly to Logan.

“Wh—no,” Logan, who was sitting on Remus’s bed and combing their fingers through Remus’s hair, his head in their lap, responded. “You are both, objectively, wrong. Horribly so. Painfully so.”

“Hey! You’re not allowed to tell me I’m wrong about Shakespeare,” Roman countered quickly.

“Why did you ask me for my opinion, then?” Logan asked, rolling their eyes.

“I don’t know,” Roman grumbled.

“Wait, why can’t they talk to you about Shakespeare?” Virgil asked.

“Because they always win!” Roman crossed his arms.

“Oh, and I don’t?” Virgil demanded. “What am I to you, Roman? I thought we had something special here,” they went on playfully. “You make dumb arguments, I make worse ones, and then I win. I thought that meant something to you.” They pouted at him.

“That’s different!” Roman protested, stifling giggles at the mopey puppy dog eyes Virgil was sending him. “You just don’t care what I say. Logan actually refutes my arguments! It’s very humiliating!”

“I only do it because your logic is physically painful to listen to,” Logan said.

Roman crossed his arms and pointedly turned away from Logan, nose in the air. “Anyway. As I was saying. Puck’s role in all of this is really interesting, if you consider the question: are the fae supposed to be able to truly alter soulbonds, or are they only messing with feelings?”

“Dear,” Logan said plaintively, looking down at Remus, his fingers still carding through Remus’s curls.

“Hmm?” Remus responded, not opening his eyes.

“Make them stop,” Logan said beseechingly.

“Sorry fellas, you heard them. Stop torturing Logan, he’s already an English major, so he’s plenty tortured already. Or else I’ll have to dissect your spleens.” Remus wagged a finger in Roman and Virgil’s direction.

“What a terrible fate that would be,” Roman commented, flopping over to lie on the floor beside Virgil.

Seconds later, his phone buzzed; he pulled it out to see a text notification from Virgil.

Virgil: oberon sucks btw

Roman: Oh, it is ON!

Roman grinned as he sent the response, already anticipating the thrill of the argument that was about to ensue. He felt a warm thrill in his chest at Virgil’s answering chuckle—it was good to know Virgil was having fun with this too.

***

“—so I was hanging out with Virgil the other day at the library cafe, and he said The Tempest was dumb because magic solves everything.” Roman was lying on the floor of his dorm, tossing a bouncy ball up in the air and catching it over and over again. Logan was sitting at Roman’s desk, legs up and crossed on the seat of the chair as he worked on readings for an English class, half-listening to Roman’s rambling. “And that since it solved all the problems, it made no sense for Prospero to give it up. Which was completely ignoring all the bad stuff magic had done and the symbolism of him throwing it away!”

“What did Remus have to say about that?” Logan inquired with a small laugh, not looking up from the copy of Frankenstein in his hands.

“What? Oh, nothing. Remus wasn’t there.”

“Oh?” Logan blinked, glancing up from the book.

“Yeah, we were at the library getting Starbucks, we do that on Wednesdays now. Remus was in his history class, I’m pretty sure.”

“I didn’t know you and Virgil hung out together,” Logan said, raising their eyebrows.

“Oh, we don’t, we just get coffee on Wednesdays, it’s different,” Roman said.

Logan stared at him. “...What?”

“Like, we only hang out on our own time to get Starbucks and then argue about Shakespeare. It’s really fun! It’s a great system, honestly. And this way, you don’t yell at me about Shakespeare or text Remus rant essays about what you think I’m getting wrong!”

Logan looked away, a very called-out expression on his face. “You weren’t supposed to see those…”

“Oh, Remus didn’t show me, I just broke into his phone the other day and it was open to your texts,” Roman said reassuringly.

“Why would you break into—” Logan began, not seeming reassured in the slightest.

“I needed to check his calendar to see if he was available to come with me to the grocery store,” Roman explained. “You know we’re really good at guessing each other’s passcodes. He doesn’t mind, we break into each other’s phones all the time.” He paused, assessing Logan’s face, trying to gauge if their expression was upset or not. “I’m sorry I read the texts, though,” he added, just in case it had hurt their feelings. “I only saw the very end of it, it wasn't on purpose or anything. Promise.”

Logan sighed. “I know. It’s alright.” He reached across the space between them to press the back of Roman’s hand.

Roman grinned. “Only you would come up with a whole essay in a text,” he teased. “Dunno what I expected, really.”

“It wasn’t an essay,” Logan said defensively. “Technically speaking.”

“I dunno, it sure looked like if you formatted it with MLA, you could turn it in for a grade.” Roman giggled. “But hey, what do I know?”

Logan opened his mouth to reply, but stopped as the doorknob rattled with the sound of keys.

Patton stepped in. “Hey! If it isn’t some of my favorite people!” he greeted the two of them with a smile. His dark, wavy hair was a little ruffled. Normally he combed it to the side, but Roman remembered it had been windy today, so Roman guessed that was responsible for the irregularity. “How are you doing?” Patton asked the two of them.

“Better now that you’re here,” Roman told him with an answering grin. “How’s your day been?” He’d noticed that Patton really liked being asked how his day had gone.

Sure enough, Patton’s smile spread a little wider. “Pretty good, thanks! I haven’t had too much to do today, which is nice. How are you doing, Logan?” He sat down on the floor beside Roman, sliding his backpack off his shoulders.

Roman immediately sat up and scooted over to lean against Patton—he was an excellent cuddler; he was tall and chubby and he ran warm, and Roman liked cuddles. He tended towards understimulation rather than overstimulation, and hugs were one of his favorite things. Patton was always happy to supply.

“I’m alright, thank you,” Logan said as Patton wrapped an arm around Roman’s shoulders. “A little underslept, but otherwise good.”

“Good, good. You should sleep more. Are you both busy?” Patton asked.

“No,” Roman said, because Patton always had fun ideas.

Logan pursed his lips, glancing down at the book in his hands in consideration. “I can finish this chapter later. Why?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if either of you wanted to play a board game,” Patton said. He and Roman had each brought a couple from their homes, and together they had quite the little collection.

“Yes!” Roman agreed eagerly, breaking away from Patton and crossing to the shelf where they kept the games. “How about Clue?”

“I will decimate you both,” Logan said, deadly serious, adjusting their glasses and scooting to the floor.

“All part of the fun, Specs.” Roman pulled out the box and set it down between them. “Dibs on the red piece!”

***

“—so I told him that was utter bullshit—not in so many words, of course—and listed off the reasons why, and he simply did not seem to recognize how completely nonexistent his logic was, he just kept repeating his original points louder and louder.” Logan punctuated his rant about a classmate with hand gestures as he walked next to Roman on the sidewalk.

“I hate guys like that,” Roman said, making a face.

Logan nodded. “But I got full credit on my discussion post when I typed up my argument and I cannot imagine he got the same, based on his talking points. So.” He shrugged, clearly trying not to look too smug with himself.

“Good job!” Roman told them.

“Thank you.” Logan’s happiness was palpable. “How have—”

“Logan!” Remus’s voice shouted.

Roman looked in the direction of the noise; they were almost an entire block away still from the quad, where they’d agreed to meet Remus, but he seemed to have spotted them. He was sprinting at full speed directly towards them.

“Oh, dear,” Logan said, the exasperation in his voice belied by the grin on their face. They took a step back and braced themself, just in time.

Remus full-on tackled Logan in a hug, colliding into him at full speed. Logan stumbled back a couple of steps, but successfully avoided falling over. “Hello, Remus,” he said composedly, wrapping their arms around Remus and returning the enthusiastic hug. “How are you?”

“Much better now. I missed you,” Remus said into Logan’s shoulder. “Normal people get all weird about it when I tell them cool murder facts. You're much cooler than normal people.”

“It has been twenty-seven hours and about thirty minutes since you last saw me,” Logan informed him. “And thirteen minutes since we last texted.” They rumpled his curls, which fell messily in loose spirals about his face; they were mostly about chin length, although some of them were choppily trimmed shorter than others. Remus was very insistent about cutting his own hair. It was always mildly disastrous, but he insisted he liked it that way. He’d dyed it himself, too; he’d bleached a streak at the very front of his head and dyed it silver about a month before college started, with a surprising amount of success.

“Yeah, and I missed you.” Remus stepped back from the hug as Logan released him. “Also hi Roman, I guess.” He tossed Roman a grin.

“You are a terrible brother sometimes,” Roman informed him. “Hi.”

“Uh, I think you mean all the time,” Remus corrected him. “I’m joking,” he added. “C’mon, I got Starbucks for us! I have extra meal credits!” He seized Logan’s hand and reached invitingly for Roman’s.

Roman let Remus grab his hand, too, and his brother immediately began dragging both Roman and Logan at a slightly breakneck pace down the sidewalk. Several students dove out of their way until he dragged them to a halt by the food truck, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waiting expectantly.

Not even a moment later, the barista placed three cups on the delivery window tray and called out Remus’s name.

“Yes!” Remus pumped his fist, darted over, and picked up two of the cups—Roman recognized Remus and Logan’s go-to coffee orders, a trenta mango-dragonfruit refresher and a grande vanilla sweet cream cold brew with extra ice. Roman picked up the last cup, a warm drink in a grande cup; he sniffed to check what it was even though he knew what Remus usually got him. Steamed apple juice with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top—his favorite as a kid and still one of his favorites now. He wrapped his hands around the warm cup and followed Remus and Logan over to a sunny patch on the lawn.

Remus sprawled out, taking up more space than seemed humanly possible for one person to fill; Logan tucked their legs beneath them as they sat beside Remus and began pulling out a textbook, a dog-eared novel, and a handful of pens and pencils from their messenger bag.

Roman sat so that he completed the triangle between the three of them, his legs crossed so he could lean his cup against them between sips and not worry about knocking it over.

“Thank you for the coffee, Remus,” Logan said, his cup halfway to his lips as he flipped through the worn novel.

Roman nodded in agreement, breathing in the warm cinnamon scent of the apple juice.

“Of course!” Remus said exuberantly, taking a noisy slurp of his drink.

Roman and Logan both winced slightly.

“Could you be a little quieter, there?” Logan asked mildly.

“How dare you.” Remus clutched his heart, leaning back so far Roman was surprised he didn’t lose his balance and fall over.

Logan sighed, reaching over and placing a hand over Remus’s, gripped around the edge of the cup’s lid. “At least please be careful not to splash,” he said, guiding Remus’s hand downwards until the cup came to rest on the ground. “This textbook cost rather a lot and I’d like to sell it back in a decent condition at the end of the term.”

Remus let go of the cup, leaving it to rest where it was, and leaned forward. He took Logan’s face in both of his hands and looked seriously into their eyes. “Hey. You are my best friend in the whole world and you mean everything to me. I love you and I’m so glad we’re soulmates. But I draw the line at stopping my annoying behavior for anything less than a natural disaster.” He released Logan and picked his drink back up. “I promise I won’t spill on your book, though,” he added lightly. “Roman gets no such promises.”

“You wouldn’t dare, you know I hate being sticky—” Roman began heatedly.

“Okay, okay. Jesus. You two are really conspiring to foil all my chaotic little gremlin dealings today. I’ll order an ice water to spill on you instead, will that make you happy?” Remus snickered.

Roman frowned. “If you must,” he begrudgingly agreed, since this seemed the closest thing to a compromise he was likely to get out of Remus. He suspected it might be a joke anyway, but he wasn’t sure about that and didn’t want to take any chances.

But Remus didn’t return to the food truck, so it seemed likely that it was a joke after all. Instead, he devoted himself to more noisy slurping, crossing his eyes and looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You’re the tallest one of us,” Roman said after a moment.

“Huh?” Remus looked up at him.

“He has a point, dear,” Logan said, turning a page.

“Like yeah I know I am, but what’s the point?” Remus asked.

“You said we were foiling your chaotic little gremlin dealings,” Roman elaborated. “You’re, like, fucking… six two.”

“And a half,” Remus added. “Emotionally, I am a chaotic creature of spite who’s about three five and can sneeze fire, though.”

“That makes no sense,” Roman protested.

“Does too,” Remus responded, crossing his arms.

“It does,” Logan agreed. “For example, emotionally, I punch that one classmate in the face twice a week, but we can’t always embody what we want to be. And you, Roman—emotionally, you’re very invested in Shakespeare, but in actuality, your interpretations are painfully bad.”

“Hey. You talking about me and Shakespeare is off limits. We’ve discussed this.” Roman waved a warning finger at them.

“I still think that’s unfair and have raised a motion to reject and overturn the ban.”

“Unfortunately for you, the judge and jury are my feelings, and you hurt them, Logan. Shakespeare and I have something special. You need to stop trying to come between us like this.”

Logan glanced up from his book to give Roman a singularly unimpressed look. “You are preposterous.”

Roman beamed at him and made a heart shape with his hands, holding it up like a picture frame to look at Logan through. “But you loooooove me,” he singsonged.

Logan nodded. “This is true.”

“You’re both nerds and Shakespeare isn’t even that good,” Remus put in, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I’m divorcing you,” Logan said immediately.

“Noooo, come back!” Remus dramatically grasped at the air as if reaching out from afar for Logan.

“Fine.” Logan shrugged. “Then Roman’s disowning you.”

“Hey, that’s my line!”  

“He can’t disown me, he’d miss me,” Remus said confidently. “Y’all are stuck with me.” He looked very pleased with himself.

There was silence for a beat, then all three of them burst into laughter.

“I’m really glad we’re all friends,” Remus said happily, leaning back and taking another long sip of his drink.

“Yeah,��� Roman agreed.

“I don’t know,” Logan said, holding back a smirk. “Sometimes I think about a world where I don’t have to deal with a pair of himbos every day of my life.” He maintained his faux-serious face for all of the three seconds it took both twins to start pelting him with ripped-up blades of grass, then devolved into helpless laughter again.

***

“Patton, you good? You’ve been kind of spaced out all day.”

“Huh?” Patton looked up, blinking through his round gold-rimmed glasses. “Yeah, I’m okay! Just… boy problems, I guess? Which is… it’s new.” He wrinkled his nose for a second in a face of dissatisfaction before smoothing his face back into a smile.

“Oh? Want to talk about it?” Roman asked eagerly, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hands, interest definitely piqued.

“I don’t know…” Patton glanced away. “It’s complicated. And it’s probably not a big deal.”

“Patton. We are friends. The main purpose of friends is gossiping about crushes.” Roman crossed his arms. “I am offended that you would ever doubt my capacity for talking about boys in a gay way.”

“I don’t think that’s the main purpose of friendship,” Patton said, but his smile looked more genuine.

“Shush, I know that, I’m being dramatic. How about a movie night and you can spill the deets in a cozy setting with popcorn? And Logan?”

“I mean… okay,” Patton relented. “It’s probably not as exciting as you’re hoping for, though, I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense. You are perfect and so is everything you do,” Roman said absently, pulling out his phone and FaceTiming Logan.

“Roman! You’re sweet, but you know you shouldn’t go around passing out compliments that should go to you,” Patton said.

“Oh, stop,” Roman said, grinning wide.

Logan picked up on the second ring. “What do you need, Roman?”

“To see your gorgeous face, nerd. Also we’re having a movie night at me and Pat’s, attendance mandatory. Seven works, right? Pat’s having boy problems.”

Logan stared at Roman with a blank face for several beats. “And… you want me there to help… why?” he deadpanned.

“Shut up, you have a nonromantic boy toy, you’re basically qualified to help.”

“Don’t call Remus that! He’s a person, not a—wait, he’s your brother, Roman, that’s worse, that’s so weird—”

“—Anyway, I can more than handle giving Patton plenty of terrible advice on his love life,” Roman interrupted. “You’re there to tell him everything I say is a terrible idea and let me throw popcorn at you. We can watch Big Hero Six. C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

Logan heaved a sigh. “Fine. But you have to put your dad’s curry powder on the popcorn.”

“What kind of man do you take me for, Logan? Of course we’ll have curry popcorn! See you at seven, love you, bye bye.” Roman blew a kiss and hung up.

After his English class, Roman grabbed a burrito from the dining hall and hurried back to the dorm, making it there at half past six. Patton was already back; he made hot chocolate while Roman microwaved popcorn and tossed it in a bowl with curry powder.

At precisely seven o'clock, there was a knock on the door; Roman let Logan in and the three of them climbed into the nest of pillows and blankets Patton had built on the bottom bunk, pushing aside the bi pride flag and the Puerto Rican flag Patton had hung like curtains around his bunk.

“So,” Roman said eagerly as the movie’s opening bot fight began on the laptop screen, turning to Patton and bouncing (Logan grabbed the popcorn bowl out of Roman’s lap as it jostled), “spill!”

Patton squirmed under the attention, a half-hidden smile ghosting its way onto his face. “I don’t know… what should I talk about?”

“What’s he like?” Roman asked. “How do you know him? Is he cute? Have you got his number?”

“Oh, wow—that’s a lot.” Patton giggled nervously.

“Okay, start with is he cute?”

“He’s really cute,” Patton allowed, biting back another smile. “He’s got all these freckles all over his face and neck and hands, and his eyebrows are really expressive—he gets this really serious face when he’s thinking, and it’s… really pretty.”

“Eyes?” Roman demanded. “How are his eyes?”

“I mean, they’re eyes? They’re this kind of greyish blueish color. I don’t know, I try not to stare, especially when he’s looking, you know?”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Roman relented. “What else? Is he fashionable?”

“I—not really, honestly. He mostly just wears longsleeve tees and jeans. Sometimes beanies. He has these really cute yellow converse that he always wears, though. He, like—oh, gosh, I’m not sure how to describe it. He’s not, like, fashionable like you asked, but he—kind of the way he holds himself makes it seem like he is? He wears his clothes well, I think is maybe the phrase.”

Roman nodded. “Alright. Do you know whether or not he’s queer?”

Patton hesitated. “Um… I’m not sure. I don’t know either way. But he was the only one that laughed at a bi pun I made one time, and he wore a pink shirt and yellow belt with faded jeans one time, which I might be reading way too much into but it sure looked like a sneaky pastel pan flag.”

Roman nodded very seriously, taking mental notes. “All good signs. Anything else? Any stickers on his laptop or water bottle? Pins on his backpack?”

Patton shook his head. “They’re, like, super empty. He doesn’t really do anything that tells people about his personality. His outfits are usually really plain, like I said, and everything. It’s weird, because he’s got such a distinct personality, and he really doesn’t seem like someone who’d leave his stuff unpersonalized. It’s like he’s afraid of something, or something.” Patton was silent for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “But then, he seems kind of nervous around me in general.” He looked away, a worried expression crossing his face.

“Maybe he likes you back?” Roman suggested. “Plenty of people get nervous around their crushes.”

Patton shook his head quickly. “No, I don’t think that’s it. I think I know what the thing worrying him is. I just… don’t know how to talk about it with him.”

“You do realize you’re being super vague here, right?” Roman queried; he couldn’t parse what on earth Patton meant by that, but his curiosity was piqued.

“I know.” Patton bit his lip. “I, um, don’t want to talk about it yet, I think. It’s complicated. I don’t think it would be fair to him to discuss it with others.”

“Oh.” Roman did his best to hide his disappointment. “Okay, that’s fine. How do you know him?”

His attempt to change the subject didn’t seem to ease Patton’s discomfort, based on the way his shoulders drew up even closer to his ears. “...Kind of from a class we’re in together?” he answered after a long pause. “We’re partners on a group project.”

“Sounds like a meet cute to me,” Roman said, searching again for new lines of questioning that would hopefully not be as upsetting for mysterious and unknown reasons. “What do you like about him?”

Patton lit up. “He’s really sweet, actually. It takes some looking to see it, because he’s got a lot of walls up, but you can tell he’s really thoughtful and observant, and he’s really warming up to me, I think—he’s being much nicer to me than most people, and I’m starting to think he really means it and wants to be nice to me just to be nice, not because he feels like he has to.”

“Well, of course he’d be nice to you, you’re like the sweetest person I’ve met in my life,” Roman said, feeling bewildered by this line of reasoning.

“No, I—oh, nevermind. I was worried he wasn’t genuinely being nice for a while, but I’m really starting to think he means it, is my point. Anyway, he’s really smart—he’s so good at like, you know, synthesizing stuff? He’s really good at finding the information we need and paraphrasing it in a way that works really well for our project. I have such a hard time wording things how I want, you know? So it’s awesome that he can do that so well. And he’s good at puns, too! He tries not to laugh, but he scrunches his nose up and gets really red cheeks so you can always tell, it’s really cute. And one time I was trying to explain to our professor he was wrong about something, but I was kind of having trouble getting my point across, the teacher didn’t seem to get it, and he just spoke up and pointed out exactly where the misunderstanding was. It was really nice and reassuring of him. He just seems really protective of people he cares about, you know?”

“He sounds great, Pat!” Roman agreed.

Patton nodded, giving an excited little wiggle.

The brief silence was broken by a quiet crunching noise. Roman looked to his other side to see Logan, eyes fixed on the movie, who had worked their way through a solid third of the popcorn.

“Oh, you fiend!” Roman cried, seizing the popcorn bowl back since he was sitting in the middle.

“What?” Logan defended himself exasperatedly. “You two seemed to be handling that just fine! I like this movie! Neither of you asked for the popcorn back! What did I do?”

“...Okay, technically nothing,” Roman admitted after considering this defense and finding it to be unfortunately solid and covering all of Logan’s bases. God, they knew him too well. “But we are supposed to be doing this as a group.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Fine. Patton, he’s probably queer. You should ask him out and see what happens. Happy now?”

“Wh—how are you saying that with such confidence?” Roman demanded.

“Which part?”

“That he’s queer. I agree Patton should definitely ask him out at the first opportunity, we just hadn’t gotten to that yet.”

“I mean, I can’t say for sure, but being the only person in a classroom to react to a queer joke is pretty telling.” Logan shrugged. “Any other relevant details?”

Patton shrugged. “I don’t know. Janus—that’s the guy—he doesn’t talk about himself very much—”

“Hold on, Janus?” Logan interrupted. “Lanky white guy? Constantly acts like he’s just swallowed a lemon? Kind of a twink? Looks incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin? Growing his hair out?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Patton admitted. “You could maybe be nicer about him, though.”

“I’m sure I could,” Logan said, seeming unconcerned. “Yeah, I know him. He’s queer, I’m pretty sure he’s compatible with you. No idea if he’d be interested, or frankly what you see in him, but go for it.”

“Wh—how do you know him?” Roman demanded. “I feel left out now!”

“We met at the Aspec—at a pride center identity group. Also he’s Remus’s roommate’s best friend. They’re practically attached at the hip. I’m surprised you haven’t met him yet, with how much you hang out over there lately.”

Virgil had a best friend? A best friend here, at college? That was news. Surprisingly unpleasant news—Roman wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t like he disliked Virgil to the point of not wanting them to have friends! Of course not! Frankly, he was glad to hear the tiny emo had a social life. It just kind of stung that this was the first time he was hearing about someone evidently so important to Virgil. And not even from hir own mouth. He’d kind of thought they were closer than that. That he’d have learned basic facts about what and who was important to Virgil by now. Learning otherwise was a remarkably unpleasant experience.

Logan took another handful of popcorn out of the bowl in Roman’s hands, startling Roman out of his thoughts.

“Stop!” he yelped. “I want some, too!”

“You have more if this bag runs out,” Logan pointed out. “I have some extra popcorn in my dorm too. And you’ve been holding out on me with your curry powder.” He popped another handful into his mouth and crossed his arms.

“If you just asked my parents, you could have some of your own! They’d even give you the recipe! Now share with Patton!” Roman leaned himself and the popcorn bowl away from Logan, trying not to laugh.

“I don’t mind,” Patton put in. “It’s very tasty, but I’m not as attached as Logan is.”

“No, you have to take some, he’s been hogging it,” Roman insisted.

“I don’t mind!” Patton insisted. Roman shoved the bowl in his face, and he relented and took a handful.

“Let Logan have some more now,” Patton said, gently pushing the bowl back into Roman’s lap.

“Thank you,” Logan said primly when Roman relented.

“You’re welcome!” Patton said with an easy smile. The smile fell away after a moment, though, and he looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure about asking Janus out, though,” he said hesitantly.

“Why not?” Roman asked. “You really sound interested in him! What have you got to lose?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Patton said, worrying the edge of a blanket between his fingers. “I’m not sure if he’d be comfortable with it. I don’t—I don’t know.” He looked away. “I’ll figure it out, I guess.” He looked back at Roman and Logan, forcing a smile onto his face. “Thank you both for the advice, though. And for listening.”

“Patton—” Roman began, concerned.

Patton shook his head. “Let’s just watch the movie now, okay? Really. Thank you. But I’m good for now. Can I have some more popcorn?”

Logan wordlessly held out the bowl and Roman allowed himself to be mostly distracted by Big Hero Six. He felt better when Patton leaned on his shoulder, a genuine smile on his face as he watched Fred goofing around on the screen. Whatever the issue Patton was dealing with was, at least it didn’t seem big enough to keep bothering him after putting it aside.

***

“So,” Remus said with an evil grin.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know,” Roman said. They were both sprawled on Remus’s bed, sharing earbuds as Remus swiped through TikTok.

“It’s nothing!” Remus protested.

Roman gave him a suspicious look. Remus’s face was entirely too innocent.

“I was just wondering when you’re going to get your shit together and do something about your crush on Virgil,” Remus said, the evil grin back.

“My what?” Roman did a double take. “I—I don’t have a crush on Virgil, we barely even get along!”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. The tension between you two is so high I’m surprised something hasn’t snapped yet. And you definitely have a crush.”

“I do not!” Roman grabbed Remus’s pillow and threw it in his brother’s face. “We’re barely even friends!”

Remus shoved the pillow aside and rested his chin on top of it, making a skeptical face.

“I mean, are they really pretty? Sure. But that’s not a crush,” Roman insisted.

“Mmhm. Okay. So what makes it not a crush?” Remus pressed.

“I—well—” Roman stammered, flustered by the very question.

“Uh-huh.”

“No!” Roman snapped, voice cracking. “I just—that’s a hard question to answer right off the bat! How do you define a crush? It’s just not, okay?”

“I mean, I define crush as, like…” Remus paused. “Huh. Okay. You have a point, or whatever. I guess… a crush is, like—huh. No. Okay. You’re distracting me. I’m teasing you about your crush that you totally do have, we are not veering off topic.”

“I do not have a crush on Virgil! I just want to be his friend! Okay?”

Remus made a skeptical face. “Sure, whatever you say. I’m still going to tease you about it.”

“Oh, whenever you find that third soulmate, I am getting so much revenge.”

“Eh.” Remus shrugged. “Like, go for it, but I dunno if you’ll have that much time to tease me about it before we get together. You know? Like, think about me and Logan.”

“Logan knew you were soulmates for two and a half years before you got togeth—”

“Yeah, because he’s smart, but I didn’t figure it out until thirty minutes before we got together. Or like. Thirty minutes before we started talking about it. You know this.”

Roman crossed his arms. This was unfortunately a very good point; the day Remus had figured out that Logan was one of his soulmates had been a pretty memorable one even for Roman. Logan and the twins had grown up next door to each other, and had been best friends since elementary school. One Saturday morning near the end of their senior year of high school, Remus had bolted upright in bed while Roman was brushing his teeth, blurted out something nigh incomprehensible, and taken off at a sprint; he’d slammed the front door behind himself on his way out and he hadn’t answered any of Roman’s texts for two hours, only to show up by sprinting back into the house and screaming at the top of his lungs “Logan and I are soulmates!”

This had prompted a lot of confused questioning from Roman. He’d learned that yes, Remus and Logan were definitely soulmates; Logan had figured it out in sophomore year but hadn’t said anything; Remus had only just figured it out; yes, Logan was still aromantic; yes, Remus was still allo; no, neither of them felt like either of these facts was an issue; and Remus was very happy.

“We’re going on, like, a date, but platonic,” Remus had announced to him that day, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’m really excited, this is so cool! Who’d have thought, right? Logan and me!”

Roman had smiled and tried hard to just be happy for Remus and Logan, and not jealous of them. Particularly about two months later, when they’d made their relationship official and become queerplatonic partners. He was happy for them! He was!

But Remus had never cared that much about finding his soulmates. Roman had. It didn’t feel fair. Remus, who didn’t care, got two soulmates, and one of them was literally his childhood best friend. Roman, who’d been daydreaming about finding his soulmate since he was too little to remember, and had learned just about everything there was to know about how soulbonds worked, seemed to have just the usual one soulmate. His soulbond hadn’t even developed until he was sixteen—admittedly, that was an expected side effect of the puberty blockers he’d been on for a few years before he’d been approved for T, but he was still salty about it. And when his soulbond finally had developed and he’d started tuning into his soulmate’s dreams, they were so creepy! He wasn’t sure he’d had a single souldream so far that wasn’t a nightmare. They ruined his sleep for the night whenever he got one. It was irritating and frustrating and all sorts of bad things; he’d actually cried over it a couple of times, not that anyone but Remus knew.

But as annoying as it was for him, it had to be worse for his poor soulmate—if these nightmares were what was making it through the soulbond, he could only imagine how much worse their nightly sleep must be.

He hoped he’d find them soon. He was ready for a proper romance, thank you very much!

[rawiswhore]

Rowdy Roddy Piper x Fem Reader- "Flash Forward"

This has to arguably be my corniest, cringeworthy fanfiction I've written so far.

But...this is a fantasy I've had, and I hope I'm not disrespecting Rowdy Roddy Piper with this fanfic by typing and posting it on his birthday...

____________________________________________________________

A lot of professional wrestlers during the 1980's weren't really pretty boys and sex symbols in the looks department.

However, there is one pro wrestler from the 80's that's an exception, and he is one of the most iconic wrestlers of the 1980's (and of all time in general): Rowdy Roddy Piper.

He got even cuter and dare I say it, sexier during the end of the 80's and early 90's when his hair grew longer, especially when he didn't have those bangs over his forehead.

In the 80's and early 90's, the World Wrestling Federation as it was known then didn't have hardly any profanity, almost no sexual content besides the Ravishing Rick Rude, barely any bleeding, didn't have wrestlers breaking tables set on fire or falling off of the tops of cages and landing in thumb tacks, and didn't have wrestlers playing porn stars, pimps, sex addicts, or even rappers that say politically incorrect insults.

The WWF was like a live action Saturday morning cartoon aimed at kids during the 1980's, but...it was still over AF back then.

What it means to be "over" in the wrestling world is something wrestling audiences really enjoy; and the WWF was really popular during the 1980's despite not having Attitude and Ruthless Aggression era-esque content.

Hulk Hogan, Macho Man Randy Savage, Andre the Giant, Rowdy Roddy Piper and the Ultimate Warrior were massive draws in the 1980's and early 90's without swearing, throwing middle fingers, drinking beer, or anything else "adult like", Hulk even tried sending positive messages to kids with drinking milk and saying prayers, and these were wrestlers that were household names, popular enough to cross over into pop culture, appeared on talk shows, and people got out of their seats and cheered loudly for them.

The WWF in the 80's was proof that you could still be over and popular without having R-rated content.

However, during one moment in the late 1980's WWF, there was a particular moment that wasn't quite so family friendly and kid friendly, and even a bit Attitude and Ruthless Aggression era like.

During the late 1980's, Rowdy Roddy Piper no longer had his iconic Piper's Pit interview segment, but instead would sometimes appear on Prime Time Wrestling in the WWF, where wrestling commentators would speak behind a table and it looked like a news program.

That'll do just fine for your little plan.

Rowdy Piper had grown his hair longer by the end of the 1980's, and he looked so much more handsome with long hair.

During a segment on Prime Time Wrestling in 1989, Rowdy Roddy Piper had hosted it and didn't have any little bangs clinging to his forehead.

He looked so handsome like this and you told him you didn't want him to have bangs during this segment.

You had your hair teased and hairsprayed, this was the 1980's, and wore a midriff bearing halter top and short little denim shorts that reached the tops of your thighs.

There's a reason why you wore this.

This moment of Prime Time Wrestling was filmed for television, and you set next to Rowdy Roddy Piper while he was rambling about something.

You were just staring at him, grinning and thirsting over him and how hot he looks, biting your bottom lip and looking like you wanted to fuck him.

You didn't wear red lipstick in this segment because you're afraid if you bite your lip, you'll get red lipstick on your teeth, although you're worried you'll get lipstick on your teeth in general.

The other person Rowdy Roddy Piper was talking to noticed you looking at Hot Rod, mentioning how you're staring at Roddy like you want him.

Eventually, you leaned into the little microphone in front of you and put one of your hands on Roddy's shoulder, telling him he's really cute.

Pretty soon, the camera focused solely on Rowdy Roddy Piper sitting down behind a table as well as you, not the other person the Hot Rod was talking to, the camera filling the entire television screen with the room Roddy and you were sitting in.

You had then lifted your feet off of the floor and placed them on the chair you were sitting on, standing on the chair and then placing one of your feet on the table in front of you, then the other foot on the table.

Roddy's eyes grew wide seeing you now standing on the table, and your back was turned in front of the camera while your torso and head were in front of Rowdy Roddy Piper.

You began to slowly sway your hips back and forth horizontally, swaying your hips to some sexy mood music that fit the pace of your dancing, you were trying to sexually arouse the Hot Rod.

Rowdy Roddy Piper had an ear-to-ear smile spreading across his face while you danced for him, his eyes looked at you, thank goodness he was standing behind a table to hide his boner.

Even though this wasn't filmed, your fingers were grabbing onto the bottom of your top and started lifting it up your torso more and more, and Rowdy's eyes were staring at your hands, he knew what was up next.

'Tis a shame that the camera isn't filming your torso, however...

As your top elevated up your torso more and more, pretty soon, the bottom of your top was over your breasts, showing your barenaked tits in front of Rowdy Roddy Piper, flashing him.

You didn't have a bra underneath your top or even nipple pasties, but you were showing the Hot Rod what Jerry Lawler would eventually nickname "puppies".

Roddy's eyes grew wide and wild seeing your tits, he had a huge ear to ear smile plastered and spread across his face.

You flashing Rowdy Roddy Piper predated when Drew Barrymore flashed David Letterman in 1995.

(Author's note: yes, this fanfic is inspired by when Drew flashed David, since David has his iconic late night talk show and Rowdy Roddy Piper had his Piper's Pit interview segment...)

Unlike Drew, it wasn't a quick little blip where she quickly lifted the bottom of her top, flashed her tits and then covered her boobs, you showed Roddy your breasts for quite some time.

Not just that, but you wiggled your breasts a little bit back and forth, as well as slightly bounced and jiggled your breasts.

You then got off of the table and straddled onto Rowdy Roddy's lap, where you can feel his erection under his kilt.

You removed your hands off of the bottom of your shirt and put them on the sides of his face, where you pulled him into your face and locked his lips in between yours.

His eyes were slightly bugging out and looking at the camera while you kissed him, whereas your eyes were closed.

Surprisingly, he isn't trying to push you off of him, no, he likes this.

You want to do more than just kiss him and flash him your boobs, and your hands moved from his face to his shirt collar, where you tried to rip and tear apart his iconic Hot Rod shirt a la Hulk Hogan.

Would he be angry if you did that to his signature, iconic shirt?

Rowdy Roddy Piper used to disrespect and troll people all the time, sometimes saying things that were downright problematic and shocking.

You feel a little horrible deep down inside for tearing apart such a wonderful shirt, but goddamn it, you want him, and your hands tore the middle of his shirt, more of his skin was showing under his shirt.

The camera eventually cut away from this, just in case things get too naughty.

Despite the WWF's Golden era of the 80's and early 90's being a family friendly era, this moment wasn't so particularly kid friendly and quite risqué.

Though, compared to Katie Vick, Jacqueline in thong swimsuits that left little to the imagination, Sable showing her breasts covered in handprints, and the Kat flashing her puppies to the audience, this moment is tame.

The WWF's Attitude era was an era that was popular around the same time Jerry Springer's infamous talk show, Jenny Jones and Ricki Lake's talk shows, Howard Stern, "South Park", Tom Green, Marilyn Manson, Lil' Kim and Eminem at his most shocking were all at the heights of their popularity, these things being notorious for being trashy shock value pop culture.

And guess what? The WWF during its Attitude era was very shocking and dare I say it, trashy.

However, during the late 80's and early 90's, Andrew Dice Clay and Sam Kinison were popular and controversial comedians infamous for their vulgar, obscene comedy (that was considered shocking even back then), 2 Live Crew were a popular and heavily controversial rap group notorious for their sexually explicit, pornographic lyrics that got them banned in their native Florida, Madonna was at her most hypersexualized during the early 1990's, Morton Downey Jr. and Geraldo Rivera had infamous talk shows that were predecessors to "The Jerry Springer Show", and so many hair metal bands sexually objectified women.

Maybe in the late 80's and early 90's the WWF could've had an Attitude era-esque era back then.

Actually, if you think about it, Rowdy Roddy Piper was a bit of a predecessor to the WWF's Attitude era; with his trash talking, insulting others and even saying and doing some things that are politically incorrect and problematic nowadays.

[dimitrescus-bitch]

Games (Cameron Howe x Reader)

smut

You sat down in one of the tables at the arcade, watching Cameron play her game as you drank your soda. Eventually, she’d get bored of the game and come over and join you. Well, at least that’s what you hoped would happen. It was more likely that she’d get kicked out or you would have to go over there and distract her a little bit. Cameron had a tendency to get sucked into games and you did legitimately want to go something together on this little date. 

“Wow, aren’t I just the luckiest guy in the world? Hi, name’s John.” You turned your head to look at the probable tool standing next to you with an old letterman’s jacket on. “What is a beautiful chick like you doing in this place?” 

“She’s here with me, so I’d suggest you leave her alone,” Cameron said. She sounded a bit angry, but you let it slide for the moment. She wasn’t making a scene and you were sure that it’d lead to some pretty great sex back at your place. “Y/n, there’s this really cool game towards the back. It’s been awhile since I’ve played it, but I think you’d really like it. I can show you if you want.” 

“That sounds great Cammie,” you said and Cameron pulled you away from the table, and John. Cameron’s grip on your waist didn’t let up in the slightest, even when the two of you were already at the game. “Cam, this looks ancient.” 

“It is, now keep quiet because even though it’s loud, I wouldn’t want someone to hear,” Cameron said as she positioned you in front of her. You put a quarter into the machine and started the game as Cameron ran her hand up the inside of your thigh. Cameron had started to explain to you how to play, but then found a more useful task for her mouth. 

It had been difficult enough for you to keep your moans to yourself whenever Cameron had started teasing you through your underwear, but when she had started kissing your neck, it was next to impossible. You were biting your lip to the point where you were sure Cameron would taste blood when she went to actually kiss you later. Still, you kept yourself quiet out of fear that Cameron would stop kissing and touching you. 

“You’re doing so good,” Cameron told you. There was no way that she was talking about the game because you’d just died. You felt her push your underwear over to the side and as her fingers made contact with your clit, you fell forward against the game. “So fucking good, keep it up.” 

You brought one of your hands up to your mouth to bite the side, hoping it would make things easier. Cameron worked you into a frenzy with her fingers on your clit and then it just sort of stopped. There was no way it had been for more than a couple of seconds, but it was long enough for you to whine and begin to feel like the world was crashing down around you. Just as you’d started to shift your weight to turn and ask her what was happening, Cameron pushed two fingers inside of you as far as she could. 

“Oh my fucking god,” you squeaked. Cameron put her other hand over your mouth and leaned down to kiss your jaw. She kept her fingers at a fast pace, knowing that somebody was bound to come and check out why you’d made that noise. The faster and harder that Cameron’s fingers fucked you, the clearer your moaning became, even through her hand. Without much of a warning, you collapsed against the machine and Cameron had to hold you to keep from shaking it and drawing in attention. “Are there any other games you wanna show me?” 

“Not here,” Cameron told you. She pulled you back from the game and walked out with her arm around your waist to help support you. You let Cameron drive you back to your place in your car since your legs were a bit shaky and when the two of you got there, she delivered on her promise of “showing you another game.”

[myinconnelly1]

To the Waves

Square Filled: Mermaid AU Ship:  Dean x Reader Rating : General A/N: This is some straight up tooth rotting fluff with minor pining angst.  Also getting a little unusual with out type of mermaid here so bear with me. Warnings: nope Summary: You meet a beautiful stranger on the beach, but he has a huge secret.  Will that keep you from loving him? Word Count: 2,551 Created for @spnaubingo​.

Inspired by this song

“Do you come here often?”  the green-eyed stranger asked as he stood over you.

“What the fuck!?”  You cried as you threw an arm over your bare breasts and rolled onto your stomach.  “What are you doing here?”  You asked thinking that you had been alone.

“I’m here all the time, this is basically my beach,”  He said sitting down and holding a leather suit or coat over his shoulder.  It looked so odd like something a jock with a letterman jacket would do.

“I’ve never seen anyone else here, what are you like a surfer or something?”  You asked reaching out for a towel that was out of reach.

“Yeah, something like that.  I’ve seen you before,”  He chuckled as he simply sat there and watched.

“And you never said anything?!”  You lifted up indignantly then flopped face-first back into the sand as you realized you had exposed yourself again.

“You want some help?”  He asked as he reached over and grabbed your towel for you.  “I’m Dean by the way.”

“Thanks,”  You replied as you covered yourself and gave your name.

“Hey, so I feel pretty bad about this whole thing,”  He rubbed his hand over the back of his head awkwardly.  “Do you wanna get a bite to eat?  I know this little place up the coast.  It a pretty short walk.”

“You want to have lunch with me?”  You asked staring at him.  For the first time, you found yourself stunned by how beautiful he was.  Green eyes, freckles, and beautiful skin.  

“Is that strange?”  He asked.  You were to confused by why he would want to be with you to notice the concern in his voice.  No one ever wanted to go with you anywhere.  You had found yourself awkward in most normal situations, and that seemed to come across to men.

“Um, it’s nothing.  Let me get my shirt on?”  You asked standing and wrapping the towel around you.  To your surprise, Dean didn’t don his coat, simply carried it as he walked.  You were quite surprised by how close the restaurant was to were you had been.  The food was nice, and Dean’s company was very pleasant.  You had a lot in common, which was surprising considering how detached from society you thought of yourself.  He had a younger brother and someone like an uncle that was more like a father.  The relationship didn’t seem to matter too much, more that he was loved by Dean.

Every answer from Dean brought you back to the same conclusion, however.  He was lying about something important.

“Alright, tell me straight.  Are you married?”  You asked as a lull of conversation started, figuring the answer had to be something huge like that.  What else would be the point in hiding it?

“What?”  He asked totally confused by your question.

“Look, you’re amazing, we obviously have a lot in common.  You’re gorgeous beyond all thought, but you’re hiding something.  So are you married?”  You asked again.

“No, I’m not married.  In fact, my dad would probably be pissed if he ever found out I was here,”  Dean seemed to drift into thought.  “You’re right though, I am hiding something.  I just… I just can’t tell you what it is.  Maybe if we were closer I could tell you.  But it’s nothing like another person,”  Dean seemed so sincere it hurt you to want to know the truth about him.  You couldn’t imagine a life where you couldn’t tell your lover everything about yourself or not expect that in return.

“Well listen, Dean.  Lunch was great, but I really can’t be with someone whose not in it, one hundred percent,”  You said solemnly.  

“No, you’re right,”  Dean seemed to hurt from something, and looked down at his plate.  “I shouldn’t have asked you to lunch.  Um, this was really nice and maybe I’ll see you again.”

He stood and left the table instantly, leaving you with your mouth gaping.  He hadn’t even paid for his meal.  You put cash down on the table and left the eatery to go home.  You lived with your father and grandfather, helping to take care of the older man.

“Hey, you were gone a while, everything okay?”  He asked looking at your tired look.

“Yeah, it’s been weird,”  You said before getting a bottle of water.

“Wanna talk about it?”  He asked taking a seat.

“How did you know you loved mom?”  You asked sitting with him and looking out at the water.  Your dad chuckled sadly.

“I’m not really sure.  She just had this way about her.  I got swept up in it.”  He said finally.

“Did you love her?”  You asked realizing what he was saying for the first time in your life.  Your father had barely known your mother.

“Where is all this coming from?”  He asked looking at you.

“Nothing, I met someone today, and he was really great but he has a secret something big, I could tell.  And he couldn’t tell me what it was.  I just don’t think I could be with someone who doesn’t give me all of himself,”  You said taking a drink.

“Maybe their secret is very important to them, but not to a relationship.  So it’s something they don’t share until they are sure they are in it with someone,”  Your father’s suggestion made you blink and you looked over at him.

“Was mom that way?”  You asked.

“I don’t know,”  He answered.  “All I know was there was an important part of her that I could never share.  But I don’t know what it was.”

“If you were in my shoes what would you do?”  You asked him hoping for any advice.  Dean had been on your mind the entire way home and you didn’t want to imagine your life if you hadn’t at least tried to see how things would go with him.

“I think you are all the proof of which choice I would make,”  Your father said as he stood up and kissed you on the top of your head.

The next morning you went back to the same place Dean had met you and you sat there waiting.  You waited and waited for a long time, but eventually, it paid off.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,”  Dean’s voice called quietly.

“I was wrong,”  You said turning to look at him.  He was wet like he had just come out of the water.  The suit he had with him yesterday hanging over his shoulder again.  “I want to know you.  All of you that you will let me see.  If that means knowing you with your big secret then I’ll take it.”

“I was really hoping that would be your answer,”  Dean said as he walked over and brought his lips to yours.  He even tasted like the ocean.

The weeks past in a whirlwind of over the top emotions and become months.  Dean was amazing, though apparently not very creative.  He seemed to spend most of his time at the beach and the two of you never went anywhere where you were standing on or near the sand.  It was kinda cute but kept your dates pretty consistent.  The two of you were becoming very close, everything seemed to fit perfectly.  

Then he didn’t show up.  He wasn’t at your normal meet up location and you had no way of contacting him other than seeing him there or leaving him a note.  It continued on, day after day that he didn’t show up.  It had all been too good to be true.  You went into your room and hid for nearly three days.  Hunger finally drove you out of your grief and you decided to go to the diner that Dean had taken you too.

“I’m sorry,”  Dean said as he stood at your table.  You looked at him unable to believe your eyes.  He was here, and alright.

“Dean?”  You asked staring at him.  “I thought you were hurt, or… or something.  That you left me.”

“I know and I can’t make up for what happened.  But, please I didn’t want to leave you,”  He said his green eyes pleading.

“Are you a spy? Or in witness protection or something?”  You asked as he sat down across from you.  “You don’t have a phone, you always meet me in the same place, you go missing for a week then mysteriously show back up.  What is going on?”

“I need to tell you my secret,”  He said reaching out and taking your hands.  “I’m not a spy or in witness protection.  I’m not even human.”

“What?” You asked laughing in disbelief.  “What do you mean-”

“I’m a selkie.  A seal-kin.”  Dean said quietly as he looked into your eyes.

“Are you- are you serious?”  You asked him after realizing he was joking around.  “You go missing for a week and you come back with some fairy tale?”

“Please, it’s the truth.  My father didn’t want me to come up here, on land.   It’s not safe.  I thought Bobby would help me, but my dad found out anyway.  He forbid me from coming back, from seeing you.  But-  But I love you,”  He said finally as he squeezed your hands.

“You love me?”  You asked.  Sharp spears of anger pierced your heart.  He claimed to love you but was lying to your face.  You couldn’t stay here another minute.  You let go of his hands and stormed out of the diner as Dean called your name.

“Hey, watch it,” Your grandfather said as you plowed into your home and almost ran into him.

“I’m sorry, GranDa,”  You said, helping him to his chair.

“What was your rush little one?”  He asked tracing your cheek gently.

“I thought I knew someone and I was wrong,”  You said bitterly.

“It’s impossible to know someone other than yourself, and even that is hard,”  He said.  He always had cryptic yet insightful things to say when you needed to hear them the most.

“He disappeared then had the nerve to lie to me.  He told me he was something straight out of a fairy tale,”  You bit your lip to keep from crying.

“Fairy tales have to have a starting point.  Are you sure he was lying?”  Your grandfather said.  You knew your grandfather’s heritage and he had always been one to hold onto childhood stories.

“GranDa, he said he was a selkie,”  You said sniffling.  Your grandfather stared at you.  The first time in years his eyes had been as clear as they were.  “What?”  You asked.

“A seal-kin?”  He asked.

“GranDa please, don’t tell me you think they are real,”  You whined.

“I know their real,”  He said quietly.

“What?”  You stopped almost unable to breathe.

“My father lived in Scotland, near the Orkney Isles.  He married a woman of low birth, who had no family and no money to speak of.  But she was the most beautiful creature that anyone in his town had seen.  She would never speak of her family or her home to anyone.  And my father never left the Orkney coast,”  He finished quietly.

“So you think your mother was a seal-kin?”  you asked in disbelief.  You knew your grandfather was getting old, but you had never thought of him as senile.

“Your mother too.  I assume your father never told you their story,”  He said fishing.

“He told me it was a whirlwind.  I always thought she didn’t want me.  You think she left because she had to go back to the sea?”  You asked looking out the window to the water that your father refused to move away from.

“I have one last thing,”  He said standing up.  “Do you like this man?”  He asked as you helped him to his room.

“He said he loved me,”  You echoed Dean’s words.  If he had been telling the truth that he loved you and that he was a selkie could you have hurt him?  The thought hurt you more than you expected.

“Love is fickle, like the sea,”  He said as he rummaged around in his chest.  My mother had this, and my father gave it to me after she died.  I never really knew why.

Your grandfather handed you a silky soft brown wetsuit.  At least that’s what it resembled.  Some parts weren’t right.  But with an unnerving gasp, you realized it looked like the jacket that Dean always had but never wore.

“My father said if my mother had ever known about her skin she probably would have left us, drawn to the sea no matter how much she loved us.”  Tears fell down your face as you looked at the seal skin your grandfather had produced.

“He was telling the truth,”  you whispered.

“If you love him, it’s not too late,”  your grandfather said, lifting your chin so you would look at him.  “The legends all say that the wearer of a seal skin could become a Selkie.  You man may not be able to live here, the men of that kind can’t leave the sea,”  all the dates with Dean on the beach hit you like a sucker punch.  “But you could go with him.”

Your eyes widened at your grandfather’s words.  You could leave your family and go to the sea with Dean.  It felt sudden.  But you knew this was the only chance you would get if you were to live with him.  And you knew in your heart that you had fallen in love with him.

“Will you tell Dad?”  you asked.  “Do you think he will understand?”

“He still loves your mother and she left him for the sea.  I think he will understand,” your grandfather said kissing your cheek.  “Hurry before the sun goes down.”

You ran out of the house with the sealskin to the diner where you had left Dean.

“You just missed him,”  The waitress said when she saw you.  You darted out of the building and down to where you had met Dean.

“DEAN!”  You cried as you rushed to the waves.  “Dean!”  Were you too late?  Had he left without you after you had rebuked his claims?

“I’m here, what are you doing?”  He asked taking in your desperate look.

“I’m sorry,”  You cried as you flung your arms around him.  “I believe you and I’m sorry.  You tried to tell me the truth and I wouldn’t believe you,”  You kissed him deeply.

“I shouldn’t have sprung it on you.  You couldn’t be expected to believe,”  He finally saw the coat in your hand.  “Where did you get that?”

“It was my great grandmother’s,”  You said showing it to him.  “It’s like yours, right?  My GranDa says if I wear it, I could go with you.  If you wanted me to come with you,”  You said the last part doubtfully.  You had rushed here without thinking about him not wanting you anymore.

“I love you,”  Dean said holding your arms.

“I love you too,”  You said without hesitating.

“Come away with me,”  He said kissing you again.  He pulled his coat on and showed you how to pull it over yourself and the two of you walked out into the waves.

@waywardbaby​ @destielhoneybee​ @snffbeebee​ @deangirl7695​ @spnbaby-67​ @maddiepants​ @ladywinchester1967​ @woodworthti666​ @miraclesoflove​ @tumbler-tidbits​​ @emilyshurley​​ @akshi8278​​ @mannls​​ @wendibird​​ @bobasheebaby​​ @flamencodiva​​ @theoneandonlymelol​​ @chelsea072498​​ @donnaintx​​ @justsomedreaming​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​ @kalesrebellion​​ @prettydeaneyes​​ @emoryhemsworth​ @laphirablack​ @dontshootmespence​ @its-a-spn-thing​ @vicmc624​ @idreamofplaid​​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​​ @winchesterxfamilybusiness​

[livesincerely]

I’m very sorry for all of the asks Madam Sincerely, but I’ve just recently gone on a binge of all of your fics, and I don’t think there’s any more questions on the ask game, so can I ask here: Do you have any ideas on future works that you haven’t started writing yet? If so, can we hear some? I was scrolling back through your tumblr to cheer myself up yesterday (my country’s gone back into lockdown) and saw you mentioned a few ideas, like the one in the SubDavey ask? Sorry, just curious <3

No need to be sorry, the asks are lovely! I’m sorry to hear that things have shut down where you are, I’m sure that’s incredibly difficult. Sending all the positivity your way 💕💜✨⭐️💕💜

The Domestic au is the QUEEN of inspiring random story ideas and dangling plot threads. There’s several floating around in the domestic au/ideas for later tags but if I was going to narrow it down to a handful of ideas that have a good chance of existing in the near-ish future, then I’d say 1) the Jack and Davey preparing for college fic 2) the Davey picking Race & Charlie up from the elementary school because Jack’s sick fic 3) the Race and Charlie needing a cuddle pile fic and 4) the bedsharing fic where Jack is struggling under the pressure of fighting for custody and needs some comfort.

I’m just in the mood for some stuff set in the high school/college era of that au, probably because ‘it’s beginning to look a lot like...’ has got me in the mindset. All of these would be one shots, just showing more landmarks in the boys’ history since ‘it’s so easy (too easy) to love you’ sort of just drops you right into the ocean as far as circumstances lol. And also, there’s a lot of family building that goes on before Jack and Davey get together that I’m very interested in exploring! I think Race describes it as ‘eight years of waiting for Jack and Davey to get their shit together?’ Yeah. So definitely lots of domestic au in the upcoming year.

I’ve talked the tiniest bit about ‘there’s you and me (and everyone else)’ and ‘a few letters off’ but after doing the first bits & bobs for each of them, I got distracted by other projects as I so often do, 😅 so I’ll talk about them here. Actually, I’m not even sure if these had working title ideas last time I mentioned them here, it’s been that long lol.

Anyway, these two fics are very similar, but just different enough to need separate fics. The first is a modern, high school au that features different examples of Jack and Davey being the accidental co-parents of their friend group while obliviously pining for each other. I’m thinking it will be individual scenes tied together by the theme; I’ll put the original idea post here and the bits & bobs here. Besides what I already talked about, I also think I want to include a scene where Albert and Crutchie are going on a first date (a pairing that is absolutely inspired by @agentsnickers, you’ve converted me) and they both separately approach Jack and Davey for advice on what to do/wear/etc. Like, a total ‘our-kids-on-their-first-date-get-the-camera’ type thing, plus Jack being an overprotective older brother and giving Charlie a curfew because he’s ridiculous.

“Be home by nine,” Jack says, a little surly. “Nine?” Davey asks, incredulous “They’re seventeen not seven. Eleven o’clock.” “I’m supposed to trust Albert with my baby brother at eleven o’clock?” Jack asks, scowling. “That’s just asking for trouble.” He says trouble in the sort of ominous tone other people reserve for imminent nuclear meltdown or battlefield heart surgery. “What do you think Albert’s gonna do, stick his hand down Crutchie’s pants the moment they walk out the door?” Davey says with a scoff. “It’s Albert.” “Ten-thirty,” Jack eventually offers. Davey nods, then looks back at Albert and Crutchie, who have been following this exchange like a tennis match and are both now a little pink in the face, and shrugs, trying to convey something like ‘pick your battles’. “Great!” Crutchie squeaks out, sounding absolutely mortified. “Great, ten-thirty it is, oh my god, Albert let’s go before theykeeptalking—“

Oh! And I want Davey to full name someone in the ultimate you-fucked-up-and-mom-is-pissed move. I even went and made full names for everyone just to be prepared 😊

Then, ‘a few letters off’ is the Jack-and-Davey’s-friends’-perspectives-on-the-nonsense-that-is-Javid fic. I’ve basically finished the Buttons scene, but I’m also hoping to include one each from the povs of Katherine, Crutchie, Racetrack, Spot, and Albert at minimum.

I’m thinking:

Katherine - catching Jack painting/drawing Davey while Jack tries to cover and deny

Spot - The aftermath of him and Jack getting into a fight with the DeLancey’s and him watching Davey fluttered worriedly around Jack, scolding him for being a reckless but still dabbing carefully at his injuries.

Racetrack - comes home to find Jack and Davey watching a movie, except that Jack’s fallen asleep halfway through, head in Davey’s lap, and Davey is adamant that Race doesn’t wake him.

Crutchie - watching Javid eating lunch together and noting how totally domestic it is: stealing food from each other’s plates, Jack gives Davey his extra fruit cup then swipes his milk carton and Davey doesn’t even say anything because it’s so routine, and how they’re able to move in and around each other effortlessly while eating and holding two separate conversations.

Albert - watching Jack and Davey flirt/bicker from the backseat on the drive to school.

And then some sort of culminating/getting together scene at the end.

There’s the infamous quarantine fic, which I waxed poetically about for all of two seconds and then never expanded on. (Here and here) The reason I haven’t done anything with it yet is because it will be a multi-chapter and between tie fic, take a shot fic, and now the domestic au holiday fic, I’m really at my limit for multi chapters at the mo’. But I do still want to do something with this once I finish tie fic and DAUHF, as take a shot knows no bounds and cannot be quantified by earthly means.

Then, as for the idea I mentioned in the sub!Davey post.... I think I’m going to be able to repurpose the general scenario/concept I was imagining for the final, E rated chapter of Tie Fic, so I don’t think the original idea will ever make it to a final cut. (I won’t say never because anything’s possible lol) But, I’m happy to put the bit I have here! Things don’t quite get E rated in this excerpt, but they’re definitely a solid M. This would’ve been an addition to the Tease series and I think this has been sitting in my drafts for almost as long as the letterman fic, and it hasn’t been edited in at least two years, so yeah 😅

00000

“I really wanted to work on my thesis proposal, that’s why I was in the library most of the day,” Davey says suddenly, pushing Jack down against the couch and straddling him, his voice light and conversational. “It was nice of you to check on me so often, though I’m sorry I wasn’t very good company. I was trying to stay focused, you know how it is.”

Davey looks at Jack expectantly, making it clear that he’s waiting for a response. Jack stares up at him, his expression equal parts confused, transfixed, and aroused. He swallows heavily, then nods.

“But I did warn you, didn’t I?” Davey continues, bracing himself with a hand on each of Jack’s shoulders, rolling their hips together as he presses closer. “That I had a lot of work to do? That this paper is really important to me and that I wanted to get a head start? That I really needed to focus and didn’t want to be distracted? I distinctly remember warning you about all of that.”

He nuzzles down the curve of Jack’s jaw, then nips at his neck. “But you didn’t listen,” he says against Jack’s pulse point. Davey smooths his hands down Jack’s chest, then back up to his throat, tugging at his collar. He unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt.

“In fact, one could argue that you did the exact opposite of what I asked you to do,” Davey says, working his way slowly through the buttons on Jack’s shirt. “Trailing your fingers across my arm, rubbing a thumb across the nape of my neck, sneaking a hand up my shirt… I would call all of that distracting, wouldn’t you?” He finishes unbuttoning Jack’s shirt and pushes it off his shoulders, admiring his muscular chest.

Davey glances up sharply. “Answer me, Jack.”

Jack blinks himself out of his daze. “I-uh, what did you ask me?”

Davey leans forward. They’re so close that he can feel the warmth of Jack’s breath against his face. “I asked you,” he starts, wrapping his arms loosely around Jack’s neck, “whether you thought constantly caressing someone while they were trying to work would distract them.”

It takes Jack a long moment to respond. “Yeah.”

One of Davey’s hands trails up the back of Jack’s neck. “You agree that doing something like that would be impossibly flustering?” Davey asks in that same, unaffected voice—as if clarifying a statement for a news article—threading his fingers through Jack’s hair. “That it would thoroughly divert that person’s focus? That it would leave them feeling unbalanced, frustrated, and downright agitated?

He leans impossibly closer, so close that the barest tilt of his head would press their lips together. “That it would drive them so crazy that all they could think about was how desperately they needed to be fucked,” Davey growls out, and his voice low and rough.

“Christ, Davey,” Jack groans, his pupils blown wide. He leans up to kiss him, but Davey anticipates this and tugs sharply on his hair, holding him in place. “So, we’re in agreement?” Davey continues in his casual voice, letting go of the dark strands and pulling away slightly, ignoring Jack’s groan of disappointment, “that all of those actions would, in fact, be extremely distracting.”

He trails his hands lovingly across Jack’s shoulders and down his chest, his movements unhurried. He licks a hot stripe up Jack’s neck, then sucks hard at a spot just under his jaw.

“Considering both of these facts, I can only conclude that you were distracting me on purpose.” Davey presses a line of kisses along Jack’s collar bone, delighting in the moan that tears its way out of Jack’s throat. He scratches lightly at the tanned skin of Jack’s chest, then sucks a bruise just above his collarbone.

“Were you doing it on purpose, Jack?” he asks, then before Jack can answer, rolls his hips hard and slow against Jack’s, grinding their erections together. Jack’s hands spasm, then tighten, clenching hard against Davey’s sides. Davey continues his ministrations, circling his hips against Jack’s, teasing him with the friction. Then, just as Jack seems to catch on to Davey’s rhythm and starts to move with him, Davey stills. “Were you teasing me on purpose?”

Jack’s mouth opens and closes, his throat working furiously. “I-yeah.”

David hums in acknowledgment, then continues his slow perusal of his boyfriend’s chest. He nibbles lightly across his sternum, then draws the flat of his tongue across one of one Jack’s nipples. Jack arches into him but Davey pushes him back, using his leverage to hold Jack down against the couch cushions. He sits up, admiring the mess he’s made of Jack’s neck and torso.

Jack stares up at him, chest heaving, waiting for Davey’s next move.

....

Davey runs his hands down Jack’s stomach and between his hips, fingers brushing gently against the front of Jack’s jeans.

Jack lets out a guttural noise. “God, Davey, let me—“ he starts, one hand slipping back to kneed at Davey’s ass, the other inching towards Davey’s fly.

“No,” Davey says firmly, moving Jack’s hands back to his waist. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

00000

That’s all that comes to mind at the moment! Oh, and the Brooklyn Davey AU idea, but I got a different ask about that, so I’ll just link it. (Here)

@saysflora

[hypochondriacattack]

Lonesome Town

Frank folded the oversized jacket that was definitely not his over his arm. It was 3am, the year was 1972. He traced over his engagement ring sullenly as he leaned against the overpass that used to be the place he spent most of his teenage nights. Times were simpler back then, when a boy could be out all night with his best friend, no eyebrows raised. He missed the blissful, warm summer nights, untouched by the cruel world that enveloped him now. Sonia, his fiance, she wasn’t so bad, but the brunette knew he didn’t love her. He fished the folded paper from the jacket pocket and unfurled it delicately.

Frankie, you don’t have to do this. - Went

But Wentworth was wrong. Frankie wanted more than anything for him to be right, for once, but he was wrong. He wanted nothing more than to be in Went’s arms, but he couldn’t be. Kaspbrak knew that he had to understand, and the idea that he could still be disillusioned was unbearable. Surely not, as hard as he tried to hide it, Wentworth was more intelligent than that. Frank knew it was all the denial talking.

He pushed through his wavy brunette locks with a heavy sigh, heart aching like it always did when he thought about the marriage. He could only hope work could keep him busy and away from home. Sonia was an okay gal, but she was loud, and rather possessive. He just wasn’t as invested in the union as she was; Sonia wanted him in a way he could never give to her. He did not love her. He never would. His mind returned to Wentworth, the nights they spent in his car out on the overpass, “Kissing Point” as it used to be called by his tight-knit little group of four, composed of himself, Wentworth, Maggie, and Andrea, who preferred Annie. The latter two were also dating, though recently had to go through a similar event, as Annie had to marry local douche bag, Donald Uris. The only benefit was that he left Derry frequently while training to be a Rabbi; though Frankie didn’t know how long that process was, it at least gave Maggie and Annie some parting moments of privacy. 

Frank heard the distant tires on pavement veer closer then all the previous passing cars, headlights hit his car, illuminating the area. Stiff as a board now, he folded away the note and took a couple cautious steps towards his car, rubbing away at the tears that had begun to form in his eyes, he then shifted to shield his eyes from the blinding light. The car pulled in next to him, he could hear music blaring from the inside, which progressively got louder as the driver-side window rolled down. 

Andrea. He exhaled sharply and pursed his lips into a straight line, gesturing broadly at her, “You scared the shit out of me, I thought I was going to get killed like-- secluded, unsolved murder style.” Annie chuckled to herself, combing back her short hair with a grin. “I figured this is where you ran off to, Maggie called after you because she heard you and Sonia got into a tiff at the store today?” Her tone turned to that of sympathy, which made Frank shift uncomfortably on his lonesome in the cold. The argument at the store was minor, but it did attract quite the audience. Sonia was a rather robust, loud woman, and she certainly enjoyed eyes being on her whenever possible. The brunette couldn’t even remember what the argument was about, frankly, he just remembered the yelling and stares, “Nosey, as always,” he retorted, crossing his arms and rubbing them for warmth. 

Annie rolled her eyes and turned down her music so it was barely above a whisper, patting her passenger side seat, “Come sit.” Frank hesitantly obliged, crawling into her car and holding the jacket to his chest. She looked over with a side eye, fidgeting with the wheel, “Went’s Letterman? I didn’t know that you still had that.” The uptight brunette grinned awkwardly down at his most prized keepsake of his childhood, which he kept neatly folded in an old, locked suitcase that used to be his father’s. “I never lost sight of it,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over the worn leather sleeves. His strawberry blonde friend chuckled “Right, cause you’re a fruit.” He twitched irritably, knowing she was only trying to lighten the mood, but he was generally easy to piss off, “Don’t.” 

Annie raised her brow and held up a hand in mock-defense, “Okay, okay.” The silence crept into the humming car, music  played quietly as they both sat there, inept of communicating emotion unlike their counterparts. Frank could appreciate the little things, like the fact Annie was clearly playing the mixtape he had made her. Currently, the track was on See My Friends by the Kinks. The ambience began to drown in the awkward, sullen atmosphere. 

“How did you do it?”

“I just did, I had to.”

“Did you cry?”

“Of course I did, Frankie.”

“Do you like him?”

There was a pause. The strawberry blonde shifted uncomfortably, “No, do you like Sonia?” The short man bit the inside of his cheek, picking at the fuzzy felt texture of the jacket, “Not like I do Went. But I think she’s okay. She’s pretty easy to handle.” “Easy to handle?” Annie echoed, her tone incredulous, “Frankie, you can say she’s awful.” The brunette’s eyes went wide as he threw up his hands in an anxious fit of a gesture, “She’s not! She’s not awful, Ann!” “You aren’t even married yet and she acts like Don does with me. You’re an adult, Frankie. You should make your own decisions without being scared she’s gonna be pissed off.” “She’s nearly my wife.” “And?” Frustration that was built up was starting to show in his body language, his knuckles white-clenching onto the jacket, he huffed. His friend’s tone softened as she rested a hand on his shoulder, “You might have to marry her but you don’t have to lie to me or yourself, Frank. Her being exactly like your mother isn’t a good thing. She isn’t your mom, she’s your fiance, she should act like—” “Woah, hey. When the fuck did my mom get pulled into this? Sonia is not acting like my mom.” Annie shot him a red-hot glare, knowing, searing. Frank responded with more reproach, “She’s just excited, so she’s a bit clingy.” “Okay, Frank,” Annie retorted bitterly, “I’m not having this debate with you. Maggie said you were difficult, but you know that is bullshit.” He opened his mouth to respond and quickly closed it, gently biting down on his own tongue. He hoped she would just veer away from the topic. He knew Sonia was like his mother, in certain respects at least, however, telling himself that really made it difficult to remain optimistic about his marriage. The silence returned and his paranoia built up all at once, filling his throat with so many questions while filling his eyes with buckets worth of tears. He sat in complete quiet, shifting uncomfortably.

Annie eventually looked over and went stiff, inhaling, “Shit, hey, Frank I didn’t mean to—” “No, no it’s not- Not you, Annie, I’m just scared. I really don’t want to do this.” Her expression softened further and she unbuckled, leaning over to bring him into a quick embrace, “Well, we can deal with this shit together okay?” The moment she touched him, his ears started ringing and he sobbed, hard, he could only manage a nod. The song turned over, one of Frank’s favorites. 

There’s a place where lovers go

To cry their troubles away

And they call it ‘Lonesome Town’

Where broken hearts can stay.

You can buy a dream or two

To last you through the years

And the only price you pay

Is a heart full of tears.

[racingtoaredlight]

THE DEGENERATE’S GUIDE TO COLLEGE FOOTBALL TV WATCH ‘EM UPS 2021: WEEK TWO, A MUDDLED AND MAUDLIN WEEK OF MAYHEM IN HONOR OF THOSE WE LOST

RTARL would like to extend our warmest holiday wishes to those who celebrate and, even if you don’t, happy 9/11. Now who’s ready for some FOOTBALL!!!!?!?!

So after two weeks of games that combine to count as only one official week even though some teams have already played twice we have only one real question answered: is Alabama still good? Yes, they are. Everything else is still liquefying vapor.

I am assuming everybody is waiting with baited breath for an RTARLsman but I don’t have anything yet. I guess the not-Master Teague RBs on Ohio State are the frontrunners for now. Or that one guy from that one team who was good. You know who I mean.

Saturday, September 11

Matchup    Time (ET)     TV/Mobile

Illinois at Virginia   11:00am   ACCN

Jeff George won Citrus Bowl MVP for the Illini against the Hoos in his last game as a student athlete before becoming the #1 overall pick in the 1990 NFL Draft. Based on this history it is safe to presume that whoever the QB is for Illinois today will be the #1 pick in 2022.

VMI at Kent State   11:30am   ESPN3

I’m not sure on this but maybe this game is cancelled.

WKU at Army    11:30am   CBSSN

Army is favored by 6. I bet this game is boring.

Norfolk State at Wake Forest    12:00pm   ACCNX

I don’t see a line listed but whatever it is bet against Wake covering.

Indiana State at Northwestern     12:00pm    BTN

This game is an act of terrorism.

Alabama State at 25 Auburn     12:00pm    SECN

Real body bag season starts today, huh?

Youngstown State at Michigan State  12:00pm   BTN

The Michigan State running back is the guy I was trying to think of earlier! He’s pretty good. Not good enough to make me watch this but I will check on his stats every so often.

Tulsa at Oklahoma State   12:00pm   FS1

I bet Mike Gundy has some really salient thoughts on the 20th anniversary of 9/11 and I can’t wait to hear them.

South Carolina at East Carolina   12:00pm      ESPN2

South Carolina is a two point favorite against an East Carolina team that is, per my understanding, not exactly good. So I can only extrapolate that South Carolina is likewise not good.

Pitt at Tennessee  12:00pm   ESPN

Look, I’m not going to pretend this is good television but if Pitt rocks their classic yellow helmets and Tennessee wears non-alternates the colors on the screen will at least be pleasing. The thought of the actual football involved hurts my brain but it’s interesting that the points have gone from a consensus pick ‘em to Pitt -3 over the course of the week. Does Tennessee have any players that are good enough that by missing the game they could impact the gambling that much? Or are people just squaring themselves with the fact the the Vols are really and truly a ruined burnt out hole of a football program? Pound the latter.

12 Oregon at 3 Ohio State  12:00pm   FOX

Losing Kayvon Thibideaux certainly isn’t going to help Oregon but he’s not usually on the field as a run stopper anyway and if Ohio State learned anything last week it’s that they can just run until they feel like throwing a pass. Oregon actually has some legit talent on the d-line besides Thibideaux but the Ducks are gonna be hard-pressed to keep things within two scores here.

Miami (Ohio) at Minnesota   12:00pm   ESPN

If Oregon can’t make a game of it in Columbus look out because this time block is an absolute wasteland. There is scant reason to turn the TV on for the early schedule other than gambling purposes.

Kennesaw State at Georgia Tech   12:00pm    RSN/ESPN3

Georgia Tech probably should have closed up shop after Paul Johnson retired. Either that or just absolutely slathered the football program in dollars. The Yellow Jackets being unable to land any big time recruits while playing in Atlanta is a real mindfuck. They aren’t a AA program playing dress up in a “power” conference they’ve got actual history. I don’t mean to give the impression I want them to be good but I don’t understand how they can be such fodder for so long.

13 Florida at USF    1:00pm    ABC

Remember that year when USF was the best program in the state? Wild stuff. Weird, wild stuff. I know the deal with UF is that they don’t go out of state for contract games but it’s actually kind of surprising they even bothered to keep this trip to Tampa on the schedule. Like the area recruits would probably be happier to go see a game at The Swamp than to kick around their hometown for a pile of shit like this.

Wyoming at NIU    1:30pm   ESPN+

I’m not gonna open the ESPN app for this but if it was on ESPN2 I’d probably check in on it during commercials. Aesthetically pleasing trash with an upside for actual entertainment.

Middle Tennessee at 19 Virginia Tech    2:00pm   ACCNX

Virginia Tech’s home crowd scene was the normie story of last week’s games. People that don’t watch college football were either aghast or frantically waving their blue lives matter flags in response. Us in this space just ate the shame and forgot it happened by the time Saturday’s games kicked off. My theory is that VPI is not actually any good but UNC’s 2020 season was a well-timed fluke and the last hurrah of Mack Brown’s storied coaching career. The Hokies are at home, though, and MTSU is almost certainly not on the same athletic level as the Turkey Gobblers so I’d probably take the home team -20 if I were so inclined to wager on this particular game that is being broadcast on the ACC’s new pornography channel.

Rutgers at Syracuse    2:00pm    ACCN

Holy fuck does this game suck. Reuniting former Big East, uh, rivals (??? does Rutgers have any natural enemies?) in a cross-conference classic betwixt the B1G and the ACC.

Duquesne at Ohio   2:00pm   ESPN3

I don’t think I need to explain to you all the national title implications riding on this game.

Toledo at 8 Notre Dame    2:30pm     Peacock

Just remember that if you subscribe to Peacock you are at the very least tacitly supporting Notre Dame. If for some reason you’re watching this please report back on how many of those defensive pick plays Notre Dame runs. They were doing that shit constantly against Florida State last week and it drove me nuts. I think the idea is that you are so flagrantly illegal so often that the refs grow numb to it and just don’t call it at all.

Robert Morris at Central Michigan     3:00pm    ESPN3

Not to be outdone by the early games, the 3 o’clock set is equally terrible.

Purdue at UConn    3:00pm    CBSSN

I bet Edsall still gets bonuses for stupid shit even now that he’s retired or whatever the official designation was for him no longer coaching.

Boston College at UMass    3:30pm    FloFootball/NESN+

I don’t know what FloFootball is but I know it isn’t anything to do with the state of Florida.

Ball State at 11 Penn State    3:30pm    FS1

It surprises me to see Penn State as only -22.5 favorites. That seems very kind to Ball State. Hopefully I’m wrong and the Ball State Lettermans take it to the Sanduskys.

Murray State at 7 Cincinnati    3:30pm    ESPN+

Practice week continues.

Temple at Akron    3:30pm    ESPN+

Pound the under.

Georgia Southern at Florida Atlantic   3:30pm   Stadium

There is really nothing going on this week.

Air Force at Navy   3:30pm   CBS

Middies vs. Fly Boys in the first leg of the Commander’s Cup on the twentieth anniversary of 9/11. I can’t imagine the amount of emotional manipulation that’s going to make its way onto this broadcast. Normally I watch these games but I don’t think I can do it this year.

UAB at 2 Georgia    3:30pm    ESPN2

Georgia may well be absurdly talented on the defensive side of the ball but I’d be surprised to see them make it through the regular season with fewer than two losses.

5 Texas A&M at Colorado     3:30pm     FOX

This is only interesting if the Aggies spring a leak.

California at TCU    3:30pm    ESPNU

Things most certainly are not looking up.

Buffalo at Nebraska    3:30pm    BTN

Nebraska is in an interesting position because if they buck the odds and end up being good after we’ve all been so ready to see a National Championship-winning coach get fired that would be funny but if they end up being really bad it’s even funnier. Go Bulls!

Mercer at 1 Alabama    4:00pm   SECN

I’ll cry a little if Saban pulls the starters in the first half and the Tide beats Mercer by less than they beat Miami.

South Alabama at Bowling Green   4:00pm    ESPN+

10 Iowa at 9 Iowa State    4:30pmABC

This is not the kind of top 10 matchup I can just sit idly by and let it happen. Your silence is complicity in this monstrous display of modernity.

SC State at 6 Clemson    5:00pm      ACCN

Clemson dropped all the way to #6 and they’ll hang around the top of the polls because they don’t have the toughest conference schedule in the world but my confidence in them is not high right now. I think the new QB is just a guy. He’s talented as hell but I don’t see him being great.

Illinois State at Western Michigan     5:00pm   ESPN3

This is either MACtion or MACtion adjacent and I have only one word for this midwestern trash: abhorrent.

LIU at West Virginia   5:00pm    ESPN+

LIU plays football?

Lamar at UTSA      6:00pm    ESPN3

Downside: You’re watching one of the least important games of the year. Upside: You’re really not missing anything.

Portland State at Washington State    6:00pm    P12N

Washington State was a perfect spot for the stupid pirate fuckhead and his leaving has ruined the program and, eventually, his reputation. Not relevant to this game necessarily but this game isn’t relevant to anything else, either.

Gardner-Webb at Charlotte   6:00pm    ESPN3

Oh, yeah, feel the excitement.

Bethune-Cookman at UCF   6:30pm   ESPN+

Go Cats.

NC Central at Marshall    6:30pm    ESPN+

The hits keep coming.

Houston at Rice   6:30pm    CBSSN

I’ve always had a soft spot for Holgo and for Houston football but somehow I really don’t like seeing him coach the Cougs. This is SWC magic but with no magic. UNLESS! Houston can put up 100. I don’t think they even have the guys to do it but this is Rice we’re talking about here.

Nicholls at Louisiana    7:00pm    ESPN3

Keep the energy up.

North Texas at SMU   7:00pm   ESPN+

I bet is MS621 were still alive he’d be at this game giving Spencer’s boys hell. Sadly he died doing what he loved, curing his COVID by eating ivermectin paste out of a horse’s butt. R.I.P., friend. Neigh to you wherever you are.

Southeastern La. at Louisiana Tech   7:00pm    ESPN3

Even the low tier stuff is geared up for annihilation. This is a bodybag week for all time.

Memphis at Arkansas State    7:00pm    ESPN+

Memphis getting less than a touchdown against Arkansas State seems like easy money but I have no real concept of either of these teams just yet. Maybe the end is nigh for the Tigers glory years? I sure hope not but it’s possible.

NC State at Mississippi State    7:00pm     ESPN2

This game should be as fun as a parents funeral.

Southern Illinois at Kansas State   7:00pm      ESPN+

Over the past week I experienced derision for referring the the guys in purple and silver as “Kansas State” instead of “K State” and that stung because it always surprises me that anybody cares about them enough to have a strong opinion about them.

Stephen F. Austin at Texas Tech    7:00pm    ESPN+

Shrugs

15 Texas at Arkansas    7:00pm   ESPN

Let’s see if Texas is ready to run with the big boys of the SEC! Arkansas is given a decent shot to win this game and that makes the “15″ next to Texas appear extremely suspect in my eyes.

Texas Southern at Baylor    7:00pm   ESPN+

This week Texas Southern is the people’s champion.

Texas State at FIU   7:00pm    ESPN+

Oh, Butch, why have you done this to yourself?

Western Carolina at 4 Oklahoma      7:00pm     PPV

All the Westen Carolina fans are buying this PPV to see their guys score 40.

New Mexico State at New Mexico    7:00pm     Stadium

I looked up the historic rivalry last year to figure out why it was played early in the season instead of at the end but I’ve forgotten and don’t feel the need to look it up again. I figured out how to watch Stadium on my TV but I also forgot that and don’t feel the need to look it up again.

Appalachian State at 22 Miami (FL)  7:00pm   ESPNU

My gut tells me Miami is probably legitimately about the 14th best team in the country but I still would never advise you to bet actual money on the Hurricanes. Are they 9 points better than App State? Easily. They should win by 20+. Are they liable to fuck around and lose or scrape out a win in the final seconds? Absolutely. Let’s fuckin’ go.

Morgan State at Tulane    7:00pm    ESPN+

A lot of people learned to love the Green Wave last week but it’s hard to keep that going with their schedule. Don’t forget them later in the year when the CBSSN glow is really shining.

Liberty at Troy   7:00pm   ESPN+

Liberty -4 is maybe my surest advice of the week. If Malik Willis is as good as his press the fake school should have this game on ice early.

Eastern Michigan at 18 Wisconsin   7:00pm    FS1

I find Wisconsin’s losing effort against Penn State last week to be a personal affront against me and all of nature.

Eastern Kentucky at Louisville    7:00pm   ACCNX

I think this game being broadcast at night on ACCNX means they’re playing naked.

Grambling State at Southern Miss    7:00pm    ESPN3

This is the kind of game that belongs on an app.

Hampton at Old Dominion    7:00pm    ESPN3

This is the kind of game that belongs on a well-worn high school football field.

Austin Peay at 20 Mississippi   7:30pm     ESPN+/SECN+

This is a pretty big OOC game for an SEC team.

Georgia State at 24 North Carolina    7:30pm    RSN/ESPN3

One of several GSUs, I think this is the one I most hope emerges victorious this week.

Idaho at Indiana   7:30pm    BTN

Wait, wasn’t Indiana like #10 last week? What the hell happened to them? No, don’t tell me. Seriously, don’t.

Missouri at Kentucky     7:30pm    SECN

When the SEC hits 24 teams the “S!E!C!” chants are gonna seem really stupid.

Howard at Maryland    7:30pm    BTN

There’s no official line for this game but I hope the Bison can pull off the upset in this classic local rivalry game.

Jacksonville State at Florida State    8:00pm   ACCN

Still shaking my head at FSU icing their own kicker. Jesus, Norvell. Get your shit together.

McNeese at LSU     8:00pm      ESPN+/SECN+

LOLSU was my lock of the week last week if you’re considering taking gambling advice from me.

Washington at Michigan    8:00pm    ABC

UDub lost to a 1-AA team last week and now they have to go on the road and beat Michigan. Which seems inevitable, to be honest.

Cal Poly at Fresno State    10:00pm    CW59

The murder rate will continue to increase as the day progresses. I always kind of like it when a local broadcast shows up on the sheet. So pretty much none of us have legal access to this game. It makes it more special.

San Diego State at Arizona    10:00pm    P12N

Pac-12 Network is similar to CW59 in that almost nobody in the country has legal access to their broadcasts. If you’ve read enough of these posts you are aware that SDSU is my weird very deep backup team. I don’t have a reason to align myself with the school or program, I just tend to enjoy watching their games.

Vanderbilt at Colorado State     10:00pm    CBSSN

This is an abomination.

21 Utah at BYU     10:15pm    ESPN

This is a lowkey fun rivalry. I’m pretty sure I write the same thing every year but it’s still true. Go Utes.

Stanford at 14 USC     10:30pm    FOX

I think USC could win a national championship and I’d still be baffled that Clay Helton is their coach. Of course, they won’t win a national championship as long as Clay Helton is their coach but they apparently won’t ever get embarrassing enough to fire him, either.

Idaho State at Nevada    10:30pm    Stadium

This is the lowpoint of the week’s schedule and you have to stay up late to watch it on a network that only exists as an app or as part of a hidden unlockable download-only level of cable subscription. This is the beauty of the college game.

UNLV at 23 Arizona State    10:30pm   ESPN2

Herm Edwards figured out the trick to looking good in the Pac-12 without having a particularly great team and I can’t make up my mind if I’m rooting for him to keep sliding on that rail or to fall off it. I think I’ve come around to rooting for him but it’s a very dynamic and fluid situation.

Hawaii at Oregon State   11:00pm    FS1

Hawaii gets to play at their normal time for a game against the bottom of the barrel of the Pac-12 but they’re an 11-point underdog. If you’re ever going to take Hawaii, this is the stars lining up for you to do it. It’s still a big “if” but I’m saying there’s a chance.

[artificialqueens]

Ms. California, Chapter Six (Crygi) - Mik

A/N: I am SO sorry for taking so long to update! I had the worst case of writer’s block ever, and I had midterms this week. Thanks for being patient. I hope this makes up for my lack of posting!

Summary: Crystal moves to Los Angeles from Missouri and meets Gigi Goode, captain of the varsity cheer squad. Queue the 1990s lesbian high school AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

It’s been two weeks since Gigi announced to the cheer squad that Crystal was, in fact, her friend. And those two weeks had been delightful.

Every day, Gigi made a point to either sit with Jackie, Crystal, and Jan at lunch, or pull Crystal over to the squad’s lunch table. Crystal found herself beginning to enjoy getting to know the group: most of them were, to her surprise, funny, genuine, and generally good-natured. She especially found herself clicking with Nicky and Jaida. Although they were standoffish at first, Crystal quickly bonded with Nicky over her interest in fashion (although many would consider Crystal’s taste questionable at the very best, Nicky seemed to think it was “perfectly unique and lovely”) and Jaida over being the “new kid”, as she had moved from Wisconsin just a few years prior.

When Gigi first began sitting with Crystal, Jackie, and Jan, Jackie seemed to be pensive. She kept quiet and let the other three girls do all of the talking. However, this changed as soon as Gigi talked about what it was like sneaking into gay clubs in West Hollywood. Jackie lit up, asking questions about it for almost the entire lunch period. Crystal knew Jackie wanted nothing more than to have an out-and-proud gay community surrounding her - she was the only one of the four who everyone knew was gay. Gigi promised that she would accompany Jackie, and the other two girls, on one of the “18+” nights that the clubs held. From then on, Jackie seemed to gradually warm towards the blue-eyed cheerleader.

Gigi would drive Crystal home most days, often electing to come inside to do homework and cook dinner. The two would spend the first hour unable to focus, finding themselves tangled up in Crystal’s bed, lips attached and make-up smudged. Eventually, they’d compose themselves and start homework until Crystal’s mom arrived home. She’d hug both girls, and the three would automatically make their way into the kitchen. Gigi had made the comment that she felt, in many ways, that she was already closer to Crystal’s mom than her own. Crystal felt sad for her - Gigi never talked about her family and assumed that the situation was less-than-ideal - but her heart soared when she saw the blonde and her mom in fits of laughter together. Gigi would eat dinner with her family most nights, and Crystal would kiss her goodbye through the window of her magenta convertible before she drove home. They had fallen into a comfortable routine and Crystal could not have been happier.

~

Crystal is sitting with Jackie at their secluded lunch table, sketching the outline of a bird for an art project while Jackie flips through her government textbook. It’s a strangely gray day in Los Angeles and Crystal almost wonders if it will rain: the sun is completely hidden behind fog and dark clouds and it’s chilly enough that Crystal wishes she’d brought a hoodie with her to school.

She’s pulled out of her thoughts when she hears Gigi’s familiar laugh from a distance. It’s light and high-pitched and it makes Crystal light up. She turns around to see Gigi making her way over with Jan; they’re both wearing their cheer uniforms and Crystal doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone look as stunning as Gigi does.

“Hey girls!” Gigi says as she sits down next to Crystal.

“Hey!” Crystal grins. “You look uh, really pretty in your uniform,” she says in a hushed tone. It’s the first time she’s seen Gigi in it.

Gigi blushes. “Thank you.”

“So, we were talking about what we could do tonight after the game!” Jan interrupts, nudging Jackie softly to get the girl to look up from her textbook.

“What’s that?” Jackie asks, shutting the book.

“What if we all had a big sleepover?!” Jan suggests excitedly.  

“Where?” Crystal asks.

“Jan’s house, her mom is really cool,” Gigi explains.

“Yeah, she knows about Jackie and I and is like, super happy for us,” elaborates the other blonde.

“She’s just happy that you’re finally dating someone who hasn’t had all of their braincells tackled out of them,” Jackie quips with a smirk.

“Ouch. But you’re not wrong,” Jan laughs, “I guess football guys aren’t always the brightest tools in the shed.”

“So, what do you think?!” Gigi interjects.

“I’m up for it!” Crystal agrees quickly, excited to spend more time with both of her new friends and her… whatever Gigi is to her.

“Jackie?”

“Obviously!” Jackie smiles.

“Yay!” Jan and Gigi simultaneously exclaim.

“Will you gals come to the football game, then?” Jan asks.

“I guess,” Jackie decides hesitantly.

“I’ve never been to a football game,” Crystal says. “I’ll give it a try, though. Why not?”

“You and I can just hang out at the top of the bleachers and read, Crystal,” Jackie tells the curly-haired girl.

“For sure.“

“Oh, come on, where’s your school spirit?! You gotta cheer the team on!” Jan jokes with her girlfriend and Jackie rolls her eyes playfully.

The wind begins softly blowing, making Crystal shiver again. She doesn’t understand California weather - it’s usually hot enough that she feels like she needs an ice bath, but right now, a warm sweater and some hot chocolate sounds delightful.

“Crys, are you cold?” Gigi asks.

“Oh no, I’m fine,” Crystal assures the blonde, trying not to shiver as another gust of wind blows through.

“You look like you’re cold, I’m giving you my jacket,” Gigi tells her decidedly.

“Gi, no, you totally don’t have to -”

“Here,” Gigi says, pulling off the purple letterman’s jacket.

Gigi drapes the heavy jacket around Crystal’s shoulders. The jacket is huge on her, probably because Gigi is so much taller than she is, and it envelopes her in warmth. Crystal can’t help but notice that it smells like vanilla - exactly like Gigi.

“Thanks,” Crystal blushes as Gigi leans in closer to her.

“You look really good in my jacket and I really want to kiss you right now,” the blue-eyed girl murmurs matter-of-factly.

Crystal’s face heats up more, and although she’s (kind of) gotten used to hearing compliments from Gigi, her brain still seems to short-circuit whenever Gigi says something sweet.

“Get a room!” Jackie laughs, noticing the romantic tension between the two.

“Maybe we will,” Gigi responds, raising an eyebrow. “Crystal, I think I left something in my car that I need some help with.”

“Oh, yeah, the um… the thing!” Crystal stutters out.

Gigi stands, motioning for Crystal to follow her.

“I’ll see you girls later tonight! And Jan, make sure to be on time for warm-ups today!” Gigi calls out, waving back at Jackie and Jan.

“How much longer do we even have at lunch?” Crystal asks once they’re in the parking lot.

“I don’t know, probably fifteen minutes,” Gigi guesses.

They walk briskly to Gigi’s car, and the second the doors shut behind them, Gigi captures Crystal’s lips in a heated kiss.

Crystal is sure that she’ll never get tired of the way that Gigi’s plump lips move softly against her own or the way that Gigi’s hands feel gripping her hips or the way that Gigi always bites down softly on Crystal’s bottom lip after she lightly drags her tongue across it. It’s all nothing short of magic.

Their kissing becomes increasingly passionate, and before Crystal knows it, Gigi tentatively moves her hands below the older girl’s shirt. Crystal lets out a quiet moan as Gigi’s hands make their way up her hips, her fingertips ghosting over Crystal’s ribcage.

Crystal knows this is all very “high school”; her best friends at home had countless stories about making out - or more - with boys in their cars. Crystal never thought she’d be one of them, but here she was, teenage hormones raging.

Crystal’s breath hitches when Gigi’s fingers brush over the side of her chest. Gigi breaks the kiss, still not moving more than a few centimeters away from Crystal.

“Is… that okay?” she whispers.

Crystal nods, reconnecting their lips.

Gigi hesitantly places one of her hands over Crystal’s breast and gently presses her hand against it, eliciting a slight gasp from the shorter girl. The blonde caresses her chest, and Crystal can feel her heart racing. She can’t think about anything but Gigi: Gigi’s hand moving languidly against the fabric of her bra, the feeling of Gigi’s heartbeat, the taste of Gigi’s breath in her mouth…

They’re interrupted when the lunch bell rings out, loudly enough that the two can hear it even from the confines of Gigi’s car.  

“Fuck,” Gigi stammers.

“We should uh, get going,” Crystal attempts to slow her breathing.

“Definitely,” Gigi agrees breathlessly.

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

“We should… try that again, not in your car,” Crystal says, her cheeks pink. She almost wants to laugh at how completely and utterly cliché this situation is: if they weren’t both girls, would this not be equivalent to the quintessential high school experience of getting felt up in some boy’s car?

“I’d like that,” Gigi says, regaining her composure. “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” Crystal says, adjusting her shirt.

They walk into the gates of the school, parting ways at the entrance.

Crystal realizes she’s still wearing Gigi’s letterman’s jacket and smiles.

~

“You did what?!” Jackie yells, wide-eyed.

Crystal and Jackie are sitting in Crystal’s bedroom, getting ready to go to the football game. Crystal could care less about supporting her school’s team, or “school spirit” as Jan referred to it, but she painted purple and white streaks on her cheeks anyways. If anything, she thinks Gigi will find it cute.

“Yeah,” Crystal replies to Jackie sheepishly.

“Weren’t you scared of someone seeing?! Not even a student, but like, a teacher!”

“Not really, my mind was… elsewhere,” Crystal replies honestly.

“You’re braver than I am, I’ll give you that,” Jackie mimics Crystal’s idea, dragging purple and white face paint across her own cheeks. “I’m scared to even kiss Jan on the cheek in the car. Or anywhere on campus.”

“Yeah, it might not have been the most responsible idea, in retrospect,” Crystal admits.

“Just be careful, I’d hate for people to find out about you guys,” Jackie warns.

“I don’t plan on people finding out,” Crystal assures her. “On that topic, what’s the deal with Jan’s mom?”

“What do you mean?”

“She just… knows about you guys? And lets you have sleepovers?” Crystal elaborates.

“Yeah,” Jackie smiles. “I remember the day her mom found out. We were laying in her backyard, drinking smoothies, and her mom was supposed to be at the gym. She got home early, I guess, and saw Jan lean in and kiss me.”

“What did she do?”

“She knocked on the window and Jan completely freaked out. She ran inside, and her mom apparently just asked if we were dating, and Jan tried to say it was nothing and completely innocent. Her mom didn’t buy it, and walked outside and asked me . I can’t lie, and I thought she was angry, so I said yes and offered to leave.”

“Was she mad?”

“Oh god no. She gave Jan a hug, and gave me a hug, and said she was happy that if Jan was going to be dating in high school, it was someone like me. It was the first time I’d ever heard that,” Jackie’s eyes light up.

“That’s insane, and really sweet,” Crystal muses. “My parents are both really great, but I doubt they’d respond like that.”

“Mine definitely wouldn’t. I’d be disowned in a second.”

“I’m sorry, Jackie,” Crystal sympathizes.

“Don’t be. Jan’s mom does a good enough job at making me feel like I’m a part of their family.”

The two spend the rest of the time getting ready in relative silence. Six o’clock rolls around, and the pair make their way downstairs to ask if Crystal’s mom can drop them off. Jackie doesn’t want to deal with parking at school during a football game.

“Hey mom! We’re ready to go,” Crystal tells her.

Her mom looks up at her from the book she’s reading. “Oh honey, you two look adorable !”

“Thanks,” Crystal smiles.

“Do you need me to pick you up?” Crystal’s mom asks.

“No, I think we’re staying over at Jan’s - Gigi will drive.”

“Sounds good!” Crystal’s mom grabs her keys. “Let’s get going, then!”

The car ride is short and sweet; it’s filled with small-talk and her mom’s bad taste in music.

“Have fun and be safe, girls!” Crystal’s mom calls out as the two exit the car.

Crystal waves, telling her mom that she loves her, and sets off towards the bleachers with Jackie.

“So, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t uh, really want to sit in the back the whole time,” Crystal laughs.

“Oh?”

“I mean, I wanna like, cheer on Gigi or whatever,” she says. Crystal is wearing the blonde’s letterman’s jacket, and she feels like the girlfriend of the high school quarterback.

Except she isn’t Gigi’s girlfriend and Gigi is the head cheerleader.

“That’s… cute. Okay, well, fine by me,” Jackie shrugs.

The two sit several rows back from the front, far enough away from the over-zealous fans but close enough that they can still see the field, waiting for the game to start.

“Do you come to these much?” Crystal asks.

“Not as much as Jan would like, I’m sure,” Jackie shares. “I guess now that I have you to come with, I’ll come more.”

“It’s like a reverse double-date, or something,” Crystal laughs. “I never thought I’d be sitting at a football game for a girl .”

“I never thought I’d actually make a friend at this school,” Jackie says seriously, attempting to cover the serious nature of her statement with a laugh.

“Come on, you have other friends, right?”

Jackie shakes her head. “I came out and everyone dropped like flies. That and being the weird Persian kid kind of kills my ability to have a social life.”

“Geeze, I’m sorry, Jackie.”

“Hey, I’ve got you and Jan, and oddly enough, Gigi is back in my life, so I can’t complain, can I?”

The game starts, and all of the football players make their way onto the field. The cheerleaders run out shortly after, and Crystal cranes her neck to see her favorite blonde. She stands front and center, leading both the audience and the squad in chants. Gigi is bubbly and upbeat and in her element; she dances and kicks and does the splits and Crystal is nothing short of amazed by her. Next to her, Jackie smiles at Jan and waves to her several times when the squad has a break. Jan beams up at her, waving back each time.

Crystal couldn’t say who won the game, or how many points were scored; she knows next to nothing about sports and was far more entertained by watching Gigi down on the field than the game itself. When the game is over, she and Jackie make their way down to the field to wait for their respective blondes.

Crystal sees Gigi emerge from the field, a smile painted across her face.

“Gi, you were awesome!” Crystal grins, hugging her.

“I’m glad you had fun!” Gigi says enthusiastically.

“Sorry that I sort of stole your jacket,” Crystal apologizes. “You probably wanted it during the game.”

“It looks much cuter on you,” Gigi winks. “Plus, I kind of like seeing you in my jacket.”

“Gross!” Jan jokes, elbowing Gigi. “Are you lovebirds ready to go?”

“I’m ready,” Crystal nods, and Gigi agrees.

“Great! Mom said she’d order pizza for us all!”

The four head to Gigi’s car; it’s less than a five minute drive to Jan’s house from the school.

Jan’s house is surprisingly large; Crystal isn’t used to the gigantic houses that seem to line the streets in Los Angeles. Jan unlocks the door, yelling to tell her mom that she’s home.

Jan’s mom emerges from the kitchen, approaching the door.

“Hi, sweetie, how was the game?” she hugs Jan.

“It was good, we won!” Jan tells her.

“Hello, Jackie!” Jan’s mom moves to hug her daughter’s girlfriend. “You look adorable with your face painted like that!”

“Thank you! It was Crystal’s idea.”

Jan’s mom turns to look at Crystal. “You must be Crystal, the girls have told me so much about you! It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too!” Crystal reaches out to shake her hand, and much like her own mother, Jan’s mom pulls her into a hug.

“We’re big on hugs here, handshakes are for strangers!”

Crystal laughs; she thinks her mom would get along swimmingly with Jan’s.

“And Gigi, you don’t get to avoid my hugs, either!” Gigi laughs as she’s wrapped in a hug. “I’m so glad to see that you aren’t third-wheeling with these two anymore!”

“Hey, she never third-wheels!” Jan laughs, faux-scowling at her mom.

“Well, I’m just happy you have a girlfriend, it’ll give you all some super fun double-dates, I’m sure! You make a cute couple!”

“Oh, we’re not gi-” Crystal begins to correct her before Gigi talks.

“Thank you, hopefully Crystal can get Jackie out to more games!” Gigi jokes.

“Let’s hope! Anyways, what kind of pizza do you girls want?”

~

The four sit on Jan’s living room floor, eating pizza on a mountain of sleeping bags and pillows as It plays in the background. Jackie is cowering into Jan, clearly terrified of the movie that her girlfriend insisted that they watch.

Crystal has seen it before - it’s one of her favorites - and Gigi seems almost as freaked out as Jackie is. The blonde has trapped Crystal’s hand in a death grip and Crystal swears her fingers are losing circulation. She can’t bring herself to care; the sensation of Gigi’s hand in her own is inarguably one of her favorite feelings.

“Why did we have to watch this movie?” Jackie squeaks out. “It’s so… violent.”

“It’s a masterpiece, babe!” Jan debates.

“It’s gory.”

“It’s interesting!”

“Whatever you say, darling,” Jackie says, continuing to hide behind Jan.

Crystal has to stifle a laugh - their exchange is adorably hilarious, and she thinks that they’re perfect for each other. She looks down at Gigi, who has buried her head in Crystal’s arm, and squeezes the blonde’s hand.

Her mind wanders as the movie plays on. Gigi didn’t tell Jan’s mom that they weren’t girlfriends and wonders if Gigi is interested in being exclusive. Crystal hasn’t thought about it much until this point - she’s been enjoying living in the moment with Gigi - but now the thought won’t leave her mind.

She can see herself in a relationship with Gigi easily. They’ll go on dates and fall asleep next to each other and surprise each other with flowers and Crystal will show up at all of Gigi’s cheer events with enthusiasm. She wants to wear the letterman’s jacket every day, and she never wants to go a day without feeling Gigi’s fingers intertwined with her own.

Crystal’s thoughts trail on until the end of the movie. Jackie has fallen asleep in Jan’s lap and Jan is lazily stroking her curly, dark hair as she, too, begins to drift off. Gigi is wide awake, still clutching Crystal’s hand.

“Do you wanna go sit on the porch?” Gigi asks Crystal quietly.

Crystal nods, and the two stand. Gigi has clearly been over to Jan’s house enough that she knows exactly where to go, because she leads Crystal to a sliding glass door. They sit down on the wooden porch in Jan’s backyard, and Crystal lets out a contented sigh as Gigi plants a kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks for coming tonight. It really, really means a lot to me, Crys.”

“Hey, of course. I like watching you, you look so happy when you’re cheering.”

“Not as happy as I am when I’m with you,” Gigi hums.

“That was cheesy,” Crystal jokes, wrapping her arm around the blonde.

“Look what you’ve done to me, Crystal Elizabeth. You’ve turned me into a complete dork! I’m almost as bad as Jan!” Gigi jokes.

Crystal can feel butterflies fluttering around in her stomach when Gigi uses her middle name - it feels like a term of endearment.  

“Who said dorky was a bad thing? I happen to think your dorky comments are adorable - or should I say, adorkable!” Crystal laughs.

“Okay, now that was bad,” Gigi snorts.

“You love it.”

“I know.”

The two sit in silence, wrapped up in each other’s arms, enjoying the cool night air.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” Gigi breaks the silence.

“What’s up?” Crystal asks.

“I hate to be that girl that asks this question, but like… what is this?”

Crystal doesn’t know how to answer - she doesn’t know what will be too much for Gigi and doesn’t want to scare the girl off. She doesn’t want to look inexperienced and over-eager.

“I, uh, I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it,” Crystal lies.

“Oh.”

“Not that I don’t want to think about it!” Crystal quickly follows up. “What do you think this is?”

“Hey, not fair! I asked you first!” Gigi giggles.

“I mean, I really like you. Enough that I went to my first high school football game in four years for you.”

“I really like you too, Crystal.”

“So…” Crystal trails off, avoiding the question she knows she needs to ask.

“You’re going to make me be the one to say it, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Crystal feigns innocence.

“Crystal, I want you to be my girlfriend,” Gigi declares.

Crystal presses a light kiss on Gigi’s lips before replying.

“Gi, I want nothing more than to be your girlfriend.”

Gigi leans her head on Crystal’s shoulder and throws her arms around the older girl’s waist. Crystal runs her fingers through her blonde hair, pressing gentle kisses to the top of her head as the two sit in a comfortable quietness.

Crystal can’t think of anything better than this.

[haydnfleury]

Can you make a Nolan Patrick smut or fluff (any is fine) I’ve been obsessed with him lately

This is my first attempt at a more gender-neutral type blurb so it might be a bit shit. [AO3 Version]

Daisuke

Who: Nolan Patrick, *Reader*

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 993

Addendum: Title is from Daisuke by El Huervo

 You weren’t certain if opening up a bookstore was the right decision at first, but when you toured the vacant space you could already envision where the shelves would go, a small reading nook in the back, and a cozy little counter set up in one of the recessed wall sections near the middle of the room. Now three months and countless work orders later, here you were, a new little corner bookstore in Philadelphia.

 During the first year of business it would be slow, but eventually become a steady stream of income as you started getting more regulars showing up. One person who particularly caught your eye was a long-haired brunette, mainly because he had a soft face… and also the fact the length of his hair didn’t suit him. He would come in every two or three weeks, browse around for something, and buy one of them. Today was different, he was with someone, and he strode right up to the counter this time.

 “Hey, I uh, do you have any…” he tapers off looking somewhat embarrassed.

 “Dude just ask. It’s not that bad.”

 His friend in a letterman jacket engraved with ‘TK’ on the front interrupts him, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

 “Hey, hey! No smoking in here!” you tell him off, and he raises his hands in surrender and walks outside.

 “Sorry about that. Er, do you have any books on, um, relationships or anything?”

 “D’you mean fictional, or like ‘how to’ type ones?”

 “How to.”

 “Gay or straight?”

 Hearing this makes his cheeks redden even more than they were previously, and he usually had reddish cheeks all the time.

 “Nevermind; Aisle 7, row 4.”

 He awkwardly walks away from the counter and disappears in that aisle. After reading a few emails on new shipments coming in you notice he hasn’t come back yet, but as you finish off your coffee he’s back up to the counter. Looking up you take the book he’s chosen and scan it, trying not to pay much attention to which he grabbed seeing as he looks mortified, and hand it back as he pays.

 “Jeez, what took you so long dude,” you can hear his friend say when he opens the door to leave.

 At the end of the day you order some food to the shop and close, going back behind the counter to eat and watch a rerun of an old sitcom you love. As you finish eating, you’re curious as to what book the cute guy bought. Normally you don’t look back at orders of people that purchase from you except for getting new stock but, curiosity is getting the better of you. ‘How To Talk to [your gender] For Men’. He can’t possibly mean you could he? He does tend to glance over in your direction though whenever he’s in the reading nook. You decide to not pay it much attention as it’s already a quarter to midnight and you have a long day ahead tomorrow.

 A month passes and he hasn’t come back, slightly disappointed each day he doesn’t show up after the first two weeks. It’s grey and raining outside, making the shop feel cozier than normal, when someone under an umbrella comes in. Closing up the umbrella, you’re surprised to see the same guy, except, with much shorter and kept up hair- he almost looks like some guy you saw on a poster your friend had of one of the hockey draft years, though admittedly you haven’t watched in years to know who they are. Still, it’s the cutest he’s looked since first coming into the shop.

 “Hey, I know I’ve been in here fairly regularly, I’m Nolan.”

 “Hey,” you reply a slight smile starting to form on your lips. “Y/N.”

 “So I was wondering if… uh,” he stutters and breathes a quiet ‘fuck’, before the store phone rings.

 “Sorry, hold on a second,” you reply and grab the phone, “Hi, [your business name], how may I help you?”

 “HE’S TRYING TO ASK YOU OUT ON A DATE,” Travis shouts into the phone loud enough that Nolan can hear it, and honks the horn on his truck from across the street.

 “…damn it Trav,” he mutters under his breath, at which point you burst out laughing.

 You try to compose yourself but still are unable to hold back from laughing.

 “Yes thank you for telling me, I think he was just about to get to that.”

 “Sure thing,” and he hangs up.

 “Again, I’m sorry about him, he can be a bit obnoxious at times.”

 “Ah it’s fine. Yeah sure, I’ll go out with you.”

 “Wait really? After that?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Honestly didn’t expect to get this far.”

 “Well how’s dinner tonight sound?”

 “Yeah sounds good,” he pulls a piece of scrap paper out of his pocket and one of the pens on the counter and writes out his phone number, “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

 You glance over at your store’s schedule, “I can close up early today, how about six?”

 “Ok great.”

 Unexpectedly, he leans over the counter and kisses you, slightly confused.

 “Wait a minute, I think I got steps seven and nine mixed up,” he responds and once again you’re unable to hold back your laughter.

 You pull him around to your side of the counter, “You know, if you’re gonna kiss me for the first time you could at least do it right,” and you kiss him passionately. For a moment you both forget where you are, until Travis honks his horn again quite visibly cheering in the truck, both of you unable to hide your smirks.

 “Well, I’ll see you tonight?”

 “Yeah, see you tonight.”

 Neither of you wanting to leave each other, you both stand there for a moment before he goes off to grab his umbrella and walk out the door. This time, it didn’t take a month for him to come back.

[drowninginblox]

Thrown into it

Part: 1,2,3,4

Part 6

I just want to say, whoever shopped for my change of clothes- thank you so fucking much. I mean I really thought I wouldn’t be able to pull off ripped jeans but.. I think I look great! Especially how the shirt contrasts how light they are. Oh wait let me clarify. In the bag were some light blue jeans, a white shirt that was a little big on me, some black shoes with orange butterflies, a hair tie, the necessities, and a letterman jacket. Don’t worry I’m all dressed! The only thing missing from this outfit is the jacket. But I'm a little perturbed by it. Like- the more that I look at it, the more I wonder if this is Mirio’s. I mean it's dark blue with white sleeves and white symbols on it. Or are they logos? What I mean is that it looks like the one he wore to the school’s culture festival at the end of season 4. 

Wait.. what if this is Mirio’s? What if he gave this to Mic so he could give it to me? My face flushed at the thought. Me wearing Mirio’s jacket.. What would it feel like? What would it smell like..? I hesitate to grab the jacket, eventually doing so and lifting it to my nose. Wait a minute- what the fuck am i doing? This could be his jacket and here I am being a creep! Why am I like this? He might be cute but no way in hell am I gonna turn into Toga! “Stop thinking about him!” I throw the jacket over my shoulder before hiding my face in my hands. “Stop with that shit!” I remind myself. “He is out of our league! Real or not!”

“Who?” I jump at a familiar voice. “What the fuck man!” I turn to see the hot mess known as Present Mic along with a smiling Nezu in the doorway. Fuck that blonde bastard and shit eating grin. I inhale sharply at the scene I just made all the while silence hangs over us. “Im so sorry.” I mumble, my head hanging down. “I- If I knew you were there I wouldn't have sworn sir.” The small principal laughs light heartedly while Mic chuckles at my suffering. “Y/n, my name is principal Nezu of UA.” He says calmly. I raise my head to properly see him. “Some of my staff have met you and you seem to know them. I can not interfere in the government’s  investigation of you, however I am allowed to ask on behalf of my staff how you know them along with some other questions in order to assist.” The mousy man explains. “For example, we will be escorting you to a safe place for you to stay.” He looks up at Present Mic with a smile. “Can you escort Y/n to the car?” He asked. Well, it’s framed as a question but it sounded more like an order. But Hizashi wasn't complaining, at least as far as I know since he nodded with his signature, enthusiastic smile. Once Nezu left the door frame, Mic turned his attention to me. “Got what you need?” Mic asks. I glance over to the jacket, abandoned on the bed. “Hold on.” I say as I go to get it but when I get to the bed it isn’t there. “What the..?” I begin to question only to be stopped by light. Not white light, it was a light yellow- almost gold in color- forming around my chest in the shape of the jacket. “Uhhhhhh-!” In a matter of seconds the light fades and the jacket appears on me. It's a little big but so warm. Almost like a hug from a family member or friend that you haven't seen in awhile. I look back to see Mic in awe at what I just did. “What did-?”

“Dude dont ask me cus I have no idea!” I say to defend myself. From the lower, right hand corner of the door frame, Nezu popped his head back into view. “Did I miss something?” Mic nods his head while I shake mine, both of us dumbfounded at what just transpired. He looks between the two of us and chuckles, leaving us once again. “I-” I start but he just shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Nope. Not right now. Let’s just go.” He decides and leaves. Seeing as I have nowhere else to go, I follow him.

Walking through the hospital is weird in itself. Partially because I don't remember entering along with the fact that seeing people with animal or alienistic attributes to them isnt something I’m used to yet. Accompanied with all the smells and sounds that come with hospitals, it just is a big nope for me. Some people don't like heights, some people don't like tight spaces, others dont like bugs- “Hey are you okay? You sound like one of my students.” Speaking of. “Huh?” I look around. Couples, families, some people alone sit in chairs while women at desks work quietly. In front of us is a sliding, glass door leading to the world I seem to be stuck in. “Are you coming?” He asks with a hint of concern in his voice. “Oh-um.. Y-yeah. Just grapelling with this again.” I try to calm myself with a laugh. “Again?” He prompts, lowering his shades a little. Woah look at those eyes. Since when did he have heterochromia? I thought he had red or green eyes..? “Uh, kid? You’re spacing out again.” He points out. I jump “Fuck- sorry!” I apologize. “Hey, hey, it's okay! Just got worried that you were trying to bail on us.” It takes me a moment to register what he said but once I did snort at that. “Me? Try to bail on pro heros? Does it look like I am insane?” I ask. The blonde takes a moment to stare. He sighs, taking his shades off to stare at me. Again what are those eyes? He looks up and down at me before I break the silence “You’re a Christmas boi.” I mumble under my breath. He narrows his eyes as a smile teases his lips. “W-what?” He says through a laugh. “You have red and green eyes! You’re a Christmas boi!” I smile wide at my declaration. The sleek, black, car beside us opens a door. Once again Nezu poked his head out for us to see. “I’m sorry to interrupt but we are on a schedule.” He reminds us. We apologize and rush into the car. 

This car is packed for what it was. Mic was in shotgun while I was behind the driver. It’s so weird having everything be backwards. Nezu sat right beside me and on his right was pro hero Snipe. Nezu faces me- which was weird in itself since I’ve only seen three- fourths of his face most of the time- and smiles kindly. Before I could say anything he turns his head to Snipe. “Y/n, this is Snipe. He is a teacher at UA. If the government allows it, you will be seeing him again.” The pro remains straight laced from what I can tell. His gas mask leaves much to the imagination. “And if you don't mind looking at our driver,” Nezu adds with a point of his paw. I look through the right rear view mirror to see the helmet of none other than arbor day himself. “Woods!” I shouted, starling everyone in the car to the point of jumping in their seat. “You know him too?!” Mic exhorts, his shades crooked from my excitement. “Of course!” I confirm. “Dude is amazing! So underrated, so little screen time!” Kamui sighs and sits up. “And to think I was getting away from fangirls..” He mumbles. “Sorry! I’ll tone it down. It’s bad enough Mic is in the car.” I apologize with a smile at what I did. “Hey!” Mic yells. From Nezu’s side Snipe gives off what I can only assume is a snort. “Not you too!” The blonde whines. Kamui only starts the car with a sigh, pulling us out of the hospital and out onto the open highway. “The kid has a point Hizashi, you know damn well it's true!” He says through his laughter. “It’s not! Nezu back me up here!” Mic pleads. I laugh when I turn to see the tiny principal with comically wide, Allmight headphones covering his ears. Snipe laughs louder while Mic continues to call on Nezu to help only for it to fall on deaf ears. Kamui- from what I can see- just taps his fingers on the wheel muttering about the situation he’s in. Poor man needs a couch and a blanket. “Hey, um.. Mr. Woods? Woods?” He sighs. “Kamui is fine.” He assures. His eyes glance back at me through the mirror. “What made you want to be a hero?” I ask with a cock of my head like an airhead would. He chuckles a little. “Its a long story..” He assures. “And it isn’t all that interesting. And I don't think I should tell you.”  I shrug my shoulders. “Doesn't matter if it is or isn’t interesting. I only know you for your quirk. And your pro hero status. There is always more behind a title.” He rolls his head for a minute and exhales. “Okay but you could be a little brat who could tell everyone.”

“True, but I don't know anyone outside of UA, and surely you've been asked this before?”

He takes a moment and sighs again. “Well, okay. But only because it’s gonna be a while. It's not that interesting though.” He restates as if to ask me if I’m sure. I scoot up a little in my seat like a child, making him chuckle again. “Okay! Okay!” His slumping spine is straightened again. “I didn't really know what I wanted to be when I was younger. My dad said I should be a carpenter.” I chuckle. “Really?” He nods. “Yeah, either that or a fireman. But looking back on it-”

“Fire and wood?” I questioned with a look. He laughs. “I know! If it wasn't for the money that came with being a hero he would’ve insisted. And I would’ve been one too if it wasn't for my sister.” I put an elbow on my knee. “Now what did she do?” A noise of amusement makes its way out of him. “It wasn't all her fault!” He defended. “Well what happened?” 

“On Christmas eve, I was about 13. My sister comes running in saying that the family cat ran away. My dad was drunk on the couch and my mom was still making dinner so she didn't hear her. She begged me to help her find the poor thing. So me, being the amazing brother I am- put on my coat and walked out into the freezing cold with nothing but a flashlight. My family lived right next to this deep forest and in that forest is a lake. I walk to the lake to see the cat meowing at some frozen water.” I nod along. “I look too over at it and see a person banging against the ice! So without hesitation I grow a branch larger than anything I have ever made at that point and shatter the ice with it. Later helping out the guy who was trapped under there.” My eyes widened at that. “Woah! Who was the guy?” He shrugged. “He told me he was a friend of one of the neighbors. There were some parties around so I didn’t question it. He went on his way, and I found satisfaction in helping him.” A smile found its way in his voice, now warm and calm behind the wheel. “I guess you could say without him you wouldn't be here.” I conclude. He nods his head. “Wow woods. I didn’t know that was why.” Snipe commented, making me jump. “Y-You-!” Woods stumbled over himself. “Since when did you guys-”

“A third of the way into your story.” Mic pipped. “That's very selfless of you.” 

“O-Oh.. Thank you.” Arbor boy mumbled. “Oh! We’re here!”

[thesocialpariahtable]

FP lies on his bed with his fraying Chuck Taylors still on, his Letterman sitting adjacent to the Serpents jacket in some sort of light versus dark battle that Hermione knows he fights internally. His room has peeling wallpaper, holes in the walls that she only notices when she squints her eyes because they’re all covered by three things: Guns n Roses, photos that Mary had developed of FP and Fred and Gladys’ handwriting. Poems. Of people she loves disguised as musicians.

The kitchen had no cupboard doors, there was a steady snoring in the room next to his that hadn’t let up in the entire hour she was there and judging by the amount of beer bottles scattered in what she assumed was the living room, the snoring wasn’t going to end any time soon.

Hermione sits with her knees to her chin, her skirt pulled up between her thighs and cardigan draped over her legs. She hadn’t stopped frowning since she arrived, she hadn’t let go of the tension in her jaw and she didn’t want to.

She enjoys the feeling. It fuels whatever hate she has towards Hiram’s smugness.

“Princess,” FP says without breathing, holding in his draw of smoke. He coughs through his nose for a second before exhaling loudly, shoulders slumping at the same time. A smile creeps on his lips with closed eyes before letting them open slowly, looking at her through heavy lids. “You gonna tell me why you insisted on going anywhere but home?”

Home . Home would be overrun with her sisters screaming for attention. Ana fighting with Mariana, the twins Lucia and Josephine arguing over who gets the luxury of thanking the Lord before dinner. Home reminds her that she’s the good girl that Hiram keeps reminding her she is. She didn’t want to go home.

She doesn’t want to be good.

“What does it matter to you?” she snaps.

FP throws his hands up in the air, blunt still between his long fingers. “Woah, woah, woah,” he says slowly. “Maybe because I give a fuck about you?”

She shoots him a glare, she wants it to hurt. She doesn’t say anything but; “Hiram thinks I’m a goody two shoes. But it still doesn’t matter.”

Even with the high hitting him, his eyes turn serious. “We’re friends, ‘Mione. That’s why I give a fuck.”

Hermione doesn’t want to talk about how Hiram makes her wild, shake and want him even more. She feels all enveloped in the cold room that’s only warmed by the fact that FP told her she’s his friend. Maybe the good in her did appreciate the friendship. The bad in her notices the way FP’s tongue runs over his teeth. She smiles softly, kissing her hand, she blows it to the wind. “What is that?” he asks.

“A kiss to the wind,” she tells him, smiling at her feet.

“Why do you do that?”

“For different reasons,” she shrugs. “This one was for friendship. For the vending machine bringing us together.”

He nods. Kissing his hand, he blows it to the wind. “For two people who really fucking want to escape.”

When she’s in his room, she doesn’t see an escape. All she sees is the foundation for history to repeat itself.

Exactly the same as what she sees when she’s staring at the crucifix that hangs above the bed in her own room.

He offers her the blunt that’s between his fingers, and even though the smell is familiar, sometimes wafting through his beat up pick up when they run the powder that pays her, she eyes it suspiciously. “You ever smoked weed before?” The way she stares at it makes him laugh with understanding. “Well, you wanna try?”

Hermione takes it from between his fingers, placing it to her lips, she sucks it in straight, the heat burning on the tip of her tongue. She coughs as it seems to fill her, travelling up her nose, hitting the back of her throat. “Shit!” she hisses.

FP laughs, taking it from her fingers. “Ah, Princess, you’ll get it eventually.”

After a few more tokes, they’re both laughing on his bed, face to face. She traces a scar on the corner of his mouth and he smiles against her touch. Before she has a chance to think about what she’s doing, her lips are on the corner of his mouth where the scar is and his fingers are playing with the bottom hem of her skirt.

He stops and so does she. They both stare at the ceiling.

He blows a kiss to the wind, “For dumb shit when you’re high,” he laughs.

She follows suit. Her kiss is silent. For something in the pit of her stomach that wants the touch that the hem of her skirt felt all over her fucking skin. In the exact way FP’s eyes are all over her skin when she’s on top of his sheets.

discard my friends (to change the scenery) a Formione fic

- read chapter 1 here on AO3!

[angelsunflowers-fanfics]

Richard Simmons x Blue!Female!reader (High school au)

FANDOM: Red vs Blue

REQUEST: My dialogue is number 6. It is a Simmons x Artistic! Blue Army! Kind! Dirty-mouthed! Reader. This is my idea for a city AU for red vs blue, and Simmons is a white boi with maroon everything (Glasses, hoodie, and converse) and he also wear his hair in a short pony-tail. He also wears a maroon baseball cap and carries a maroon phone. He was in love with (Y/N) since High School, and he doesn't really know about her artistic side. Please find the time for this. I have a crush on the maroon soldier.

“We’re sitting in a good court and I can see you staring at me so what’s your fucking deal--wait are you drawing me?”

Linktree

~~~~~

The mall was lit up with dim lights as the afternoon slowly drifted into the evening, many people were still lounging around the shops and food court, taking advantage of the long hours. Richard Simmons and Dexter Grif, a couple of the reds, were talking in the food court. Well, it was more of Simmons talking and Grif eating and listening.

Simmons thought about that Blue all too often, The blues and the reds were rival schools. Grif didn’t see why he had such a fascination with someone that he was only gotten to actually see a few times. Simmons didn’t care much about the rivalry between the schools, he actually liked it. That way he could see (y/n) more often, but now he was out of high school.

“--I just wish I could find a way to talk to her again, It’s been so long. Do you think she would even remember me?” Simmons asked.

Grif rolled his eyes, not knowing why he was here and not literally anywhere else.

“Maybe, you two were both major nerds so It’s a possibility. Well, you still are. I still can’t believe that you never got over your mondo crush on her by now, dude. Her being a blue and all, there were plenty of girls that asked you out, why didn’t you ever say yes?” Grif asked.

Simmons sat back in his seat lightly, taking off his Maroon colored glasses to clean the lenses before he spoke, “(y/n)’s different, she’s not like those girls in school. They just wanted to plagiarize my work or use me to get their significant other jealous. (y/n) talked to me first, I still got really nervous around her, but… She actually enjoyed talking to me.” 

Grif shrugged his shoulders lightly before closing his notebook full of extensive notes, he didn’t need Simmons to know how smart he could actually be just yet.

“Alright, you know what Sarge would say,” Grif said. 

Sarge was the red team’s coach, he was close to the former team. Simmons scoffed at Grif’s mention of Sarge, whom would desperately discourage him from having a huge crush on a ‘dirty Blue’, His words, most definitely not Simmons.

“I don’t care what he’ll say. I didn’t get to see her much though. I almost thought that she would transfer, that would’ve been nice,” Simmons said, reminecing. 

Grif narrowed his eyes lightly, he never saw Simmons talking with (y/n). Not once in all of the 4 years in highschool. Where on Earth did he find the time for that?

“When did you even talk to her? You never had the time to hang out with me, but you supposedly hung out with a Blue?” 

Simmons rolled his eyes, picking up his phone to pretend that he was scrolling through his social media.

“You know, the football games. You and Donut would play, I watched. But one day, I got really bored and just started to wander around and I eventually bumped into (y/n). She asked me for the time and we just started talking,” Simmons answered. 

Grif sat back lightly, that did make sense. High school Simmons and Simmons in the present both got very flustered around girls, especially those he actually liked. Grif had hung around the nerd since the beginning, he could see that plain as day.

[FLASHBACK]

“Hey! Pretty-nerd in Maroon!” 

Simmons glanced around in a fluster, he was definitely not used to receiving any compliments of any variety. He quickly turned around to face a pretty girl in a blue letterman jacket. He already felt his heart beating rapidly from the mere sight of a pretty girl talking to him out of interest.

“U-um, yes?” Simmons nervously answered.

(y/n), the blue, slowly approached Simmons to hear him better and for him to hear her better.

“Sorry to bother you, but do you have the time?” She asked.

With shaky hands, Simmons dug a hand into the pocket of his Maroon jacket to grab his phone to check the time; 8:02 PM. before neatly placing his phone back where it was.

“I-it’s 8.” 

(y/n) gave Simmons a sweet smile before explaining her actions.

“Thanks, sorry I don’t usually call out guys like that but… You seem different. What are you doing at a football game? You don’t seem like the type,” (y/n) explained her outburst. 

Simmons glances over (y/n)’s head for a moment to catch a glimpse of Grif on the field, he didn’t look like he was enjoying the game before catching her eyes again. 

“I’m (y/n), by the way,” She introduced herself. 

Simmons smiled lightly and almost wanted to press a hand against his heart from how hard it was rapidly beating against his chest.

“I-i’m Simmons, but you can call me Richard. I come in to watch my friend, Grif, and Donut,” He said. 

(y/n) cocked her head to the side for a moment.

“Donut?” 

Simmons smiled brighter and lightly led (y/n) to the edge of the bleachers to overlook the game.

“Yeah, you see that guy in the pink?” (y/n) laughed lightly and gave a small nod of her head. “That’s him, he calls it lightish-red.”

“Oh my, Fuck. That’s amazing,” (y/n) giggled. 

Simmons surveyed the blue team, wondering if there was someone that (y/n) was here for.

“What about you? Are you here for your boyfriend or…?” The pleading in Simmons' voice was evident, but over the loud sounds of cheering from the crowd, it wasn’t noticed by (y/n).

“No boyfriend. Um, I’m here for Michael Caboose; that guy charging at everyone head first,” (y/n) gestured to the football field. Simmons glanced to the field again to instantly spot Caboose diving headfirst for the football, it would be hard to miss someone like that. “And Lavernius Tucker, he’s--” 

Simmons couldn’t help himself as he blurted out his immediate thoughts toward that certain blue, “Wait, Tucker? You hang around him? Every time I see him, he’s always flirting with fucking someone or you… Sorry, I just--” 

(y/n) waved her hands in front of her to stop Simmons rambling, the sweet smile still plastered onto her face.

“No, I get it. He has that kind of impression on people. But he can actually be really sweet and a great person once you get past that outer shell… And for the flirting… I don’t know why he does that… But he’s Tucker.”

Simmons’ eyes trailed back down to the jacket that (y/n) was wearing. He was talking to a Blue. A blue! His friends were going to give him so much shit for this, but… somehow he didn’t care. The jacket hanging loosely from her shoulders didn’t look like hers, he couldn’t help but imagine what she would look like in his jacket--

“So, Richard… you’re pretty and definitely different from the blue guys… Would you mind if I gave you my number?” (y/n) asked.

Simmons’ eyes widened before trying to dig through his pockets to grab his phone but ultimately became a fumbling mess.

“Y-yeah, I don’t m-mind.” 

(y/n) bit on her bottom lip to stifle a laugh before lightly grabbing his arm and a pen from her bag.

“Just hold still for a moment.” (y/n) carefully scribbled her phone number under her name on his inner wrist before hesitantly letting go of his arm, letting it hang loosely by his side. “I better go find my way down to the field, the game’s over. I’ll see you later, Richard.”

[FLASHBACK OVER]

“Okay, I believe you. There’s no way you would have been able to talk to her first, you’d get flustered and start stuttering,” Grif said. 

Simmons’ face flared up in embarrassment and only slight annoyance.

“I would not!” His voice cracked slightly. 

He didn’t really yell because of that fact, his voice always reverted back to his pubescent days when he got flustered-angry. Grif stifled his laugh behind his hands, Simmons already proved his point.

“Your voice just cracked. Man, I barely have to try and I’m right.” 

While Simmons tried to calm down his breathing and control the color in his face, Grif looked off to the side as the sound of a pencil furiously rushing across paper gets his attention. Someone was turned toward Simmons, their head tucked behind a sketchbook. Someone was drawing Simmons. 

“Huh, someone is drawing you, Dude.” 

Simmons rolled his eyes but didn’t move a muscle.

“Whatever, this is another stupid test of your right? I’m gonna turn around and then you’re gonna laugh at me, no way,” Simmons said, stubborn as ever. 

Grif glanced at the artist sketching on her paper for a moment before Grif grabbed one of Simmons' notebooks and threw it near the artist’s table. 

“Grif! What the hell?” Simmons yelled.

Grif only shrugged his shoulders lightly, watching in amusement as Simmons slowly stood up to retrieve his journal from the floor. Simmons’ eyes locked onto those of the person drawing him, Grif was right. He shot up to his full size and marched toward the unnamed person. 

“Okay, you’re staring at me, what the fuck’s your prob--wait… are you drawing me?” The artist finally glanced up from their sketchbook to reveal that it was (y/n). “I-I…” The blue only smiled at Simmons.

“Hi, Richy.” 

Grif laughed to himself before grabbing his bag and standing from the table, he could tell that Simmons would want to talk to her alone.

“Nice, I’m gonna head back to the apartment. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Simmons watched Grif leave the mall before turning back to (y/n), ready to question her, “I… I didn’t know you could draw.” 

(y/n) sat up straighter and layed the large sketchbook on the table, revealing that she was drawing him. Simmons slowly sat in the seat across from her, his mind scrambling for a coherent question to ask. 

“I’ve been trying to find you for a while, you kind of disappeared after high school,” Simmons mentioned. 

(y/n) slowly shrugged her shoulders, picking up the sketchbook to finish the drawing.

“Yeah, There were some family emergencies and then my mother wanted me to go into the air force… I’m sorry. I know you came here a lot when we were teenagers so I thought… Maybe you would be here and you are,” (y/n) explained. 

Simmons sat back to look at how grown-up (y/n) looked. He needed to keep the conversation going, he wanted to talk to her until dawn just like all those years ago. It had been so long, what if she was different? Or dating someone? Or married?

“Why did you draw me? Out of everything that’s inspiring, you drew me…” 

(y/n) gestured toward his outfit and items that were laid on the floor near the table next to them.

“You are very color-coordinated, and you’re pretty… and I like you. I’m a bit rusty on sketching, but I wanted to get back into it and I thought you would be the perfect model,” She explained. 

Simmons wrung his hands together in front of him nervously, she said that she liked him. He should say something back, right? Say that he had felt the same since he first met her.

“I, um… I like you too. Since we met sophomore year at that football game. I never knew how to tell you. (y/n), do you… Wanna--” 

(y/n) quickly cut him off by leaning over the table to press a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“Yes.” 

Simmons stare at (y/n) wide-eyed, not expecting her to act on such a bold move. 

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say yet.” 

(y/n) smiled brightly, grabbing one of Simmons' hands and slowly packing up her things in a light blue bag, before standing up, bringing Simmons with her.

“If I’m with you, then I’m positive I’ll enjoy whatever you have planned. Come on, we have a lot to catch up on.”

[got2ghost-archive]

Title: Love Somebody Today

Pairing: Magnus Burnsides/Taako (The Adventure Zone)

Summary: magnus is a lonely, widowed butch lesbian who keeps building furniture for her new neighbor. taako is a lonely femme lesbian who cooks for her in exchange.

Tags: Strangers to Lovers, Modern AU, apartment neighbors, falling in love, squirting, cunnilingus, fluff and smut, lesbian sex

Word count: 5538

written for the ‘modern au’ prompt for @taagnusweek

Magnus yawns as she comes up the creaky apartment steps to the second landing. It’s been raining outside and she had forgotten her umbrella this morning, so she’s soaked through. At least she’d managed to save her fast food under her jacket. She’s looking forward to kicking off her work boots, taking off her bra, and taking that first bite of greasy, bacon-y burger.

There’s someone struggling with a big box up the stairs and Magnus waits patiently, since there isn’t enough room to duck around. The stranger lets out a grunt of frustration, her skinny arms trembling a little as she takes a few careful steps.

Magnus crinkles her bag of food and the girl turns her head sharply, glaring a little in apprehension — like she’s moments away from telling someone to fuck off. She’s beautiful: golden skin, messy, long blonde hair spilling out of a braid, sharp cheeks and pouty lips, a funny little nose that Magnus thinks enhances the rest of her features. She looks like a model maybe, or someone who could be on TV who Magnus could stare at forever. She realizes, a little too late, that she’s, like, staring too hard in person.

“Hello there! Take your time. Or — do you want help with that?” she chirps, taking the few steps forward, hand outstretched. The stranger looks at the box in her arms and then back at Magnus.

“Honestly, I’m not too proud to ask for help. I’ve been lugging these up all day, so sure, go for it,” she says, glare softening into a tired smile.

“Sure thing! Not a problem! I’m Magnus — but my friends call me Maggie. What apartment are you in?” She tucks the baggie under her armpit and grabs the box from her, lifting it to her chest. It doesn’t weigh too much at all. The stranger lets out an unintentional sigh of relief.

“Taako. And thanks. I’m in 309.”

“Oh, sweet. I’m just down the hall from you. Everyone on this floor is really nice, but don’t be surprised if you see this old guy, Merle, walking around without his shirt on.”

“Hot-old, or old-old?” Taako asks with a grin.

“Old-old. Is that, like, ageist? Mostly he’s just gross and inappropriate sometimes. But he has like, three boyfriends, so maybe he’s doing something right.”

Taako ducks in front of Magnus to get her door unlocked, pushing it wide open with her foot. Magnus sets down the box and takes a look at her surroundings. The layout is opposite to Mag’s and she’s got a better view with more windows since it’s a corner apartment. There are boxes stacked everywhere, and even with the light on, it’s dimly lit. Mag turns back to Taako, who looks exhausted. She watches her dig through one of the boxes in the kitchen, popping back up with a cup in hand. She sticks it under the sink and turns on the faucet, then gulps down the whole glass. Her crop top rides up further to reveal a long, attractive stretch of torso. Magnus looks away, cheeks pink. She hasn’t felt her heart pound like this in a long time.

“Do you, uh, need anything else?”

“I’m good, I think. Taako doesn’t wanna put you out or anything. I can smell that burger of yours from here. I’ll probably just order delivery and sleep on the floor,” she says, wiping her mouth delicately with the back of her hand.

“I can just build your bed frame for you? If you want. It’ll take me like, two seconds. I’m a carpenter, so this is my wheelhouse.”

Taako takes a moment to think, her lips twisted to the side. Eventually she shrugs, crossing her arms. “For sure, go for it, Maggie.”

Magnus beams and sets her food down. The bed frame is shoved in a corner alongside the mattress. She gets on her knees, rips the box open haphazardly and pulls out the frames. It’s simple enough; she lays it all out first, then gets the little screws and her letterman ready.

“Where are you from?” Taako asks as Mag gets to work.

“Raven’s Roost. What about you?”

“Oh, that’s pretty far from here. I grew up here, but left to do some traveling. I just moved back because my work and my sister are here.”

“Oh, that’s nice! Where is she?”

“She’s with her hubby ten minutes from here. What about you? Single life or what’s the dealio?” Magnus pauses and glances at Taako over her shoulder where she’s leaned up against the counter, checking her nails casually. Magnus doesn’t usually do this — hasn’t done this in a long time. Is this what she thinks it is? Or maybe she’s just reading into it. If Julia was here, she’d laugh at her.

“Uh, yeah. On my own,” she says, voice going soft, her mind lingering on Julia the way it always does when she thinks about her. Magnus finishes the bed frame; makes quick work of it, like she promised. She even stands up and starts to unwrap the bed, which is probably overkill, but she isn’t one to half-ass things.

“Where do you want it?”

“Jeez, that was fast. Bedroom is through there, though it’s mostly boxes in there right now. So here is good. I owe you big time!” she says, flashing a brilliant smile, her very adorable gap-tooth showing.

Magnus nods and finishes pulling all the plastic off of the bed and sets it down on the frame, straightening it out. “Nah, you don’t owe me anything. I’m happy to help out anytime. Just knock on 302, and if I’m home, I’ll be right over.”

Magnus dusts off her hands and swings back to the counter, snatching up her burger. She taps her fingers on the counter, even though she can and should leave now. When has she gotten all attention-hungry?

“You this good to old man Merle, too?” Taako says, her smile melting into a smirk that makes Magnus’ belly simmer with heat. She watches Taako’s hips jut out to the side, enticing in their narrow sharpness. She wants to dig her thumb there and leave a mark.

“No. He always forgets to take his clothes out of the dryer so it gets all moldy. Fuck that guy,” she says with a grin.

“So just me? I get special treatment?” she says, coming close enough that Mag can feel the heat of her body.

“Maybe. If you’re a good neighbor,” she says, her stomach lurching and her face getting hot simultaneously. Was that okay? Was that too much?

Taako barks out a laugh, musical and a little shrill for someone so incredibly beautiful. “For sure. I’ll let you borrow my sugar anytime, darling,” she says with a wink. Her stance changes and she smiles at Mag again, blinking a little sleepily. “I’d love to keep flirting, but I’m deffo gonna pass out the minute you walk out this door, and it’s not gonna be pretty.”

Oh. “Oh,” Mag says, dumbly. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll get out of your hair. Have a good night,” she says, fumbling with the door handle.

“Here, I’ll get it,” Taako says, squeezing Magnus’ hand once before gently moving it off the knob. She twists it once and pulls it open with a flourish towards the entryway with a curtsy. “Night, Maggie baby, thanks for your help.”

“Yeah sure — anytime,” she shuffles out, glancing over her shoulder one more time. Taako wiggles her fingers in goodbye, biting her bottom lip.

“Goodnight.” The door closes.

Mag exhales slowly.

Shit.

She makes her way back to her apartment, cold burger in hand. She gets into hey apartment, locks it, and stares out for a while into the emptiness of her space. There’s her comfy couch and Julia’s rocking chair; the little workshop stand she’d set in the corner where a TV should be, because she can’t ever stop working. Mag kicks off her shoes, almost leaving them where they’re knocked over until she hears Julia’s voice in her head to clean up.

Maggie, if you drag dirt in here one more time, I’ll divorce you!

Magnus sets the boots on the shoe stand, tosses the bag of food and her keys on the counter, and goes to take a leak and wash her hands. She stares at herself in the mirror. Her hair’s getting a little too long and fluffy at the top, but her sides are still okay. She touches her sideburns. She should get a haircut. And maybe a dog, too, while she’s at it. It’s too lonely here. Being flirted with for the first time in a year, just makes it more obvious how lonely the apartment is.

“Jules, she was really hot. You’d think she was really hot and joke about a threesome, but you know me. I couldn’t look at anyone but you. But she was hot. And that was… sort of nice,” Mag says, her brown eyes reflecting back.

She sighs one more time and takes off her flannel and her shirt and her sports bra, sighing in relief at her sore tits being free.

Mag eats her cold burger and fries and goes to bed. _

A few nights later, there’s a staccato knock on the door that startles Magnus out of her thoughts. She was spacing out, microwaving a frozen dinner.

“Coming!” she says, heart still pounding.

The door swings open to a pink-faced Taako. She’s in slippers and a strapless, sparkly cocktail dress, and she’s giggling.

“Hi there. Are you drunk?” Mag says with a small, amused laugh.

“Hey! Yes, wine drunk, if you wanted to know the specifics. I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over for dinner? Because I’m finally kind of moved in and I was able to cook! One’s the loneliest number and all that.”

“Uhh,” Magnus glances back at the sad frozen dinner that’s still humming in the microwave. She turns back. “Sure, if I can come dressed like this?” she gestures to her work flannel-tank top combo.

“What? Of course you can, mi amiga!”

“Oh, it’s just, you’re so dressed up, I feel like I should too?”

“Oh, this old thing?” Taako says with a grin, her eyebrows waggling. “No, but for realsies come as you are. This is an old NYE dress. I was sorting through clothes to donate and thought I’d relive the moment. Come on over!” she says, deciding for her by grabbing Magnus’ hand to yank her down the hall. Mag stumbles after her, barely managing to pull her own door shut before they’re almost fox-trotting down the hall.

It smells amazing, is the first thought that comes to mind; like spices and buttered meat. Mag’s mouth waters immediately.

She takes a quick look around. Most of the boxes are still stacked up, and there are clothes, like, everywhere on the floor, but there are knick-knacks up, and some picture frames propped against the wall, waiting to be hung. The kitchen, however, looks completely done. There’s pots and pans hanging up and dishes in the sink. On the island, there’s two ready-to-eat plates of steak, shrimp, and rice.

“Holy wow, this looks amazing!”

“Taako was feeling a little cajun today, no biggie,” Taako says, floating to the cupboard for a second glass. “Take a seat. You want any wine?”

“Sure, I’ll take a glass,” Magnus agrees, obediently pulling out a stool.

“This is the good shit,” Taako says, pouring her a full glass of something dark red and velvety before taking a seat across from her. “Dig in!”

Magnus doesn’t have to be told twice. She cuts up the steak and spoons a little rice on, takes a bite and moans. She hasn’t had a home-made meal in ages. Even when Julia was still around, they were both too lazy to cook most days, opting in for take out instead.

“Bingo bango, right?” Taako says with a smug grin.

“This is fucking amazing,” she says, still savoring the bite.

“I know,” she says, taking a sip. “I can’t put furniture together for shit, but I can cook a mean meal. So we’re even, right?”

“Yes — I mean, I feel like I still owe you! All I did was put together a bed frame, this is like a Michigan star meal!”

“Michelin star, you mean,” Taako snorts, amused. “Hey, I’ve still got plenty of furniture to build, so I guess we can just start a running tab, huh?”

It starts that way. Magnus does end up putting together a couch and a dresser. Puts up all the picture frames and ladder shelves with Taako on the counter, legs crossed, directing her where to go.

Taako keeps cooking her killer food and sends her home with leftovers that make her coworkers jealous. Avi tries to steal her pot pie and she almost throws him out the window. She likes the company, likes coming over while Taako weaves stories about her incompetent coworker, and how much pressure she’s getting with ratings on her show.

Magnus finally gets a TV just to watch Sizzle it up! With Taako in support. She’s fantastic on screen, of course, nothing shines a light to Taako in real life. _

She meets Lup and Barry a month in, when they finally have down time from their research. She’s never seen Taako nervous before, but today she is. She’s a whirlwind in the kitchen, so Mag stays out of the way after her hands get slapped a few times for trying to help out.

Magnus dresses up a little for it, just a suit she hasn’t worn in a while. She has to take off the blazer to duck under the table and fix a wobbly table leg, though.

“What are you nervous for? Is she mean?”

“Lup? No! She’s just — three minutes older and she thinks she’s three years older. She’s worried about me, or whatever, so I need her to think I’m living my best life! I’m hot shit! I don’t need her to worry. The hot mess Taako? She’s long gone! Left on the wild beaches of Ibiza, baby!”

“Okay. I can back that up, if you want?” Magnus dusts her hands off, retesting the table. When it seems good and sturdy, she returns all of the table decorations to their place.

“No, I just need you to tell me if this needs more salt,” she says, coming around the corner. She shoves the spoon in Mag’s mouth, knocking against her teeth. Mag pulls away, licking gravy off her lips. “It’s good,” she says, steadying Taako’s wrist. “Thanks for not knocking my teeth in.”

“Shit, sorry,” Taako says, setting the spoon down. She uses the bottom corner of her apron to wipe at Mag’s mouth. The fabric tickles Magnus’ nose and she thinks hard about that instead of how she wants to suck Taako’s fingers into her mouth.

There’s a knock at the door and Taako curses. “I’ll get it,” Mag says, steadying her waist. She pecks her forehead and moves on to the door.

“This Taako’s place?” Lup says. She looks almost identical to Taako, except she’s taller, and she’s got an undercut. Her clothes says she just left a punk-rock concert, rather than the chemistry lab Magnus knows she and Barry work at. Magnus likes her immediately.

“Yep! Right place. I’m Magnus, Taako’s — neighbor. She’s right over there, being totally normal and well adjusted!” Magnus winks at her, but Taako misses it. She looks dazed and her fingers are at her brow. Magnus worries that she might have cut herself or something, but she seems to snap out of it when Lup comes running over. They collide in shrieks and limbs. Magnus can’t stop grinning watching them.

Barry chuckles. “They always act like they haven’t seen each other in years when they see each other.”

Dinner goes well. Taako makes an assortment of things, including pot pies. Magnus eats two of them and Lup gives her a weird look the whole time.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“No, it’s just— that’s a new one on the menu, sis,” Lup says, smirking at Taako.

“What can I say? I’m always evolving.”

“Changed the whole ‘pot pie is soggy puff pastry with glue and peas for filling’ outlook?”

“Whaaat? It’s my favorite,” Magnus says, cuddling the pot pie closer to herself. “Taako makes the best pot pie I’ve ever had in my life.”

Lup cackles out loud and Taako throws a Hawaiian roll at her.

After dinner, as Magnus comes out of the bathroom, Lup is right there, looking dangerous. She’s easily 2 inches taller than Magnus with her heels on. “Hey Maggie, can we chat? So I like you— and, listen, hate to do this. But if you so much as treat her wrong once, I will set your car on fire and I will make it look like an accident. I am a chemist, so I can Breaking Bad your shit to high heaven, get me? Oh, and I have a coworker who’s real sweet on her and who I’d love her to meet. So don’t clown me,” Lup pats her on the shoulder once before straightening up.

“Uh. Okay.”

“Let’s go get seconds of cobbler before Barry eats the whole thing.”

The whole encounter is a little bit confusing and a little bit arousing, but Magnus will never tell Taako that. _

Mag doesn’t even stop by her own apartment, just heads straight to 309, opens the door without thinking about it, and hangs up her jacket on the hook she installed two days ago. There’s a pot on the stove that’s bubbling, but Taako’s nowhere in sight. When Mag takes a step in, she can hear the shower running. All of the boxes are gone. The couch is there and Taako’s added a few fake plants to the shelves. Julia would have filled their apartment up top to bottom with plants and flowers. She had a green thumb.

Shit, Taako hadn’t even said anything about furniture today. Mag had just assumed, had walked right in without asking, like she lives here. Embarrassment crawls up her throat and she takes a quiet step back, knocking into a side table. A cup gets knocked off and tumbles to the floor with a clatter.

“Maggie? Is that you?”

“Uh, nope!”

Shit, shit, shit. She quickly picks it up, takes off her flannel to mop up the tea that spilled. She hears the bathroom door open and the pretty, floral smell of Taako’s body wash fills the living room.

“Hey, what’s up?” Taako says, eyebrows raised. She’s got her hair wrapped up in a towel and she’s in a fluffy looking robe. Mag wants to bundle her up in her arms and kiss her freckled nose.

“Hey. Uh, nothing. Just—,” Mag looks for her escape.

“Cool. Dinner will be ready in a couple of minutes… Is there something wrong? You look a little jumpy.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m fine. I’m gonna. I’m gonna go home. And eat there. At home. See you later!”

Magnus rushes out.

“Mags?” she hears, muffled behind her.

Her heart’s pounding in her chest when she gets home. It’s dark. Her laundry basket is still next to the couch with a pile of unsorted socks she’d abandoned when Taako came knocking at her door to get a coat hanger installed. She stayed over to talk until 2 am, until her throat got scratchy and the tea went cold.

“Julia? What am I doing?”

You’re smarter than that, Mags.

Magnus sighs. “But what if I’m not ready?”

Tough luck, my love.

Julia’s right. Julia’s also dead and isn’t here to actually give her advice over a mortifying crush; or just to be here, filling up the empty spaces with her warmth. It’s just Magnus in her sad, bachelorette-style apartment. Mag turns the door handle, takes a deep breath and centers herself, determined to just deal with this.

There’s no answer when she knocks on Taako's door. She knocks again.

“Taako?”

She tries the handle, but it’s locked and, okay, she probably deserves that. “Can we talk?”

The door cracks open and Taako looks livid, her lip curled up in a snarl. Her eyes are narrowed and she looks poised, ready to slam the door in Magnus’ face. “What?”

“So, about our tab. There’s like, no more furniture or fix-it-ups I have to do, right? So, I feel kind of bad about eating your food.” Oh boy, this isn’t what she wants to say at all.

Taako stares at her in disbelief. She shoves Magnus’ jacket out through the crack and slams the door. “Fuck you!”

“No! Wait! Fuck! That’s not what I—“

No response.

Magnus leans her forehead against the door and closes her eyes. Her fingers trace the grain of the wood as she concentrates on what to say. “I haven’t done this in… I have a dead wife. She was the love of my life and I didn’t think I’d be doing this again, like ever. But then you walked in here and everything changed.” she says slowly and sincerely.

The door knob turns slowly and Taako pulls it open, looking wary. Her hair’s damp, freed from its towel and she’s still in her bathrobe.

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?” She says, crossing her arms.

“I wanted to. But it still feels fresh, sometimes. I want to talk about her. With you, if that’s okay. Can you let me in, please?” Taako bites her lip, thinking for a moment before she swings the door open. She slinks to the couch and doesn’t face Mag just yet.

“You kissed my forehead.”

“What? When?”

“The other night when Lup and Barry were over.” Had she? Oh shit, she had. Magnus approaches the couch slowly, sitting at the other end of it.

“I… liked it. I wanted you to do it again. And I keep cooking pot pies, even though they are glue and peas in soggy pastry. But you like them and you get so happy when I make them — I’m in over my head. Taako doesn’t really do this. Lup’s right to worry, because I am a mess. Cooking is basically the only thing I’m good at. And surfing, I guess.”

“You surf?”

“That’s beside the point. The point is, I don’t have any more furniture for you to build. I did consider catalogue shopping for furniture I don’t need, so that you would keep coming over. Because why would you want to be here otherwise?” She looks up, expression sullen.

“Because you’re here,” Mag says, softly. “Taako…I guess, I was worried — conflicted…about what it means that your apartment feels more like home to me than my own apartment. Just now, I walked into your apartment without even thinking about it. And I don’t want to like, freak you out, or scare you away, because this like, freaks me out a little. How much I like you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really, really do. I like you! It scares me, how much I do.”

“You’re dumb,” Taako says, and it stings a little. But then she starts moving, climbing on top of Magnus, setting her bony ass on her lap. “You’re so dumb, god, Taako what are you doing?” she says to herself before leaning in and kissing her. It’s good, better than Magnus remembers. Her hands slide up carefully to the bird-bones of Taako’s shoulders. She’s so petite, nothing like Julia’s full figure at all, but Magnus likes it anyway.

Taako’s delicate fingers brush through the short sides of her hair, up into the thick, wavy top of it. She moans into the kiss, trembles when Magnus licks into her mouth. She tastes sugar-sweet and Magnus swirls her tongue to get more, to feel the cut of her gapped-teeth. Her hands keep exploring, down the waist of her fluffy robe to where her knees and thighs peek out. She squeezes the tops of her thighs and Taako moans again.

Taako pulls away first, her hands still stroking at the base of Mag’s neck. Her eyes are closed, forehead resting against hers. “God, your hands. Watching your hands when you work drives me crazy,” she says, grinding down a little. Magnus can feel a rush of wetness from her own cunt, her clit twitching for friction.

“Can I touch you? Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she says breathily, holding herself steady, one hand at Mag’s shoulder as she presents herself. Mag unties the robe, feeling like she’s unwrapping a present as she unfolds the robe to reveal more of her. The curves of her breasts and the pooch of her tummy shift when she sucks in a breath. “Don’t,” Maggie says, reaching out to pet her tummy first and then up to cup her boobs. They’re a perfect handful and her nipples are so fucking hard already. Magnus leans forward to lick her neck and nibble at her collarbone. “You’re so gorgeous, fuck."

Mag’s thumb presses hard at her perfect, dark brown nub, pinches her hard until she gasps and rubs herself on Mag’s thigh again, riding her. Mag presses the heel of her palm to her own cunt, still trapped in layers of clothing. She leans down and kisses the top of her right breast and then sucks the whole thing into her mouth, sucking hard, then she narrows in on the nub with her teeth and pulls gently. “Maggie, fuck!”

Taako cries out again, grasp tightening in her hair and she can feel it this time, her wetness soaking into the denim of her jeans. Magnus pulls away, breathing hard and laps dirtily at her, circling her areola until Taako’s shuddering in her lap.

“Wanna eat you out,” Magnus slurs, wild-eyed, a trail of saliva running down her lip.

“Fuck yes. Great idea, yes,” Taako nods profusely and scrambles back onto the couch. The robe falls away and Taako shifts the sleeves off so she can wrap her arms around Magnus’ neck.

Mag grins at her, pushes her thighs up so they’re folded and presses her nose down the valley of her hips. She closes her eyes, smearing her lips down the crease of her hip. Takes her time, inhales deeply at the thatch of her well-groomed pubes, intoxicated by her musky sweetness. She buries her nose and laps at the dew-drops of cum on her pubes.

Mag blinks her eyes open, takes in her glistening pussy. Taako’s dark brown lips shine sweetly, and when she uses her fingers to split her open, she’s so pink and soft. Magnus’ mouth fucking waters.

She flattens her tongue, eyes on Taako’s face as she pushes her broad tongue against her pussy folds, moving her head side to side as does. Taako’s belly sucks in again and she moans as Mag presses in further, circling in slowly towards her clit.

She teases her, brushes her nose against it first, spreads her wide, one hand on her thigh, the other two fingers petting at her slick folds. She’s so fucking wet and messy and Mag just has to clean that up first, right?

“Stop teasing,” Taako whines, humping up. Mag grins at her, nipping her teeth along the inside of her thighs. Mag sucks off her fingers, grinning at Taako.

“This is Michelin star pussy. I gotta take my time.” Taako barks a laugh until she moans when Magnus uses the opportunity, rushes in, fucking her tongue into her tight, throbbing pussy. She licks out all of the sweet, slick juice dripping out of her and keeps doing it, stroking in deep.

“Oh, fuck son of a—,“ Taako whimpers, rutting against her. Magnus pulls back out, circling again with the tip of her tongue, tracing her. Then gentle, gentle, gentle she moves to her clit, sucks her into her mouth and swirls her tongue on the hot, hard head of it. Taako sobs and Magnus sinks two fingers in, rubbing at the velvet smooth inside. She crooks her fingers in Taako's cunt, playing with her now.

Taako’s thighs tighten around her head and she rides her face, chin to the ceiling as her orgasm builds. Mag tongues her clit, fast and rhythmic, eyes locked on Taako’s face. She’s biting her bottom lip hard, holding it off until she can’t anymore. Her mouth drops open, slutty, as she comes hard, hips lifting up off the couch; her moan chokes off and her long fingernails dig into Magnus’ neck.

Magnus keeps going. She adds two more fingers and she fucks them in harder, uses her whole arm to fuck that sweet spot inside of her. She can feel her pussy clenching, tightening, pulsating wildly around her, can feel the hungry heat, the way it wants to swallow her up and release at the same time. She kisses her clit and then sucks at the overstimulated nub. Taako’s hips keep working, and she lifts up again, oversensitive. Magnus pulls her mouth away, watching her pussy twitching restlessly. She pulls her fingers out all the way and then pushes them back in, deep.

Taako comes all over her, squirts all over her face like a fountain spray. Magnus closes her eyes and opens her mouth, drinks her up, best she can — swallows it all up, almost snarling as she does. She closes her mouth on her cunt, letting the last of it hit the the back of her throat. Magnus hastily shoves her hand down the front of her jeans and rubs.

She’s so fucking wet, she can barely feel it. Her whole hand coated with Taako’s cum and her own and she fucks the side of her thumb hard and fast. She comes, groaning. Taako pulls her into a kiss that she can’t see because it’s hard to open her eyes. She pants into the kiss, lets Taako lick at her mouth and her face. Her thumb grazes Mag’s chin, stroking over and over again until Magnus winds down.

Simultaneously, they collapse together in a heap.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Talk about splash zone. I have never come that hard in my life. I’m gonna have to get a new couch,” Taako says, absolutely awed. Magnus grins smugly, using her left hand to at least wipe off her face so she can see Taako. She looks flushed, eye bright and glossy. She’s stunning. Magnus kisses her red, red lips.

“Gonna have to do that again, like pronto. My legs are jello, though. I think my soul astral-projected. I’m still floating up there.”

“No, come back,” Mag says, with a giggle.

“You still have clothes on. How is that fair?” Taako whines, pulling at her shirt. “I wanna see those abs. I wanna see that wet, hot fucking pussy.”

“I’m gonna have to throw these boxers and jeans away,” she says, making a face. It’s already starting to get uncomfortable and chafing.

“I wanted to throw those jeans away, anyway. They have wood stain all over them, babe.” Mag snorts and rolls her eyes. Taako tugs at the bottom of her shirt again, inhaling deeply. She presses her face up into Mag’s hairy pit and mutters something.

“What was that?”

“Maggie,” Taako’s eyebrows are furled when she shows her face again.

“I like you,” she says, voice shaky. Magnus’ heart takes a long distance leap, right over some finish line she didn’t know she was running. “I want you to come over every day, eat my food, fix my furniture, and keep fucking me on every inch of this apartment. I’m really, really not good at this stuff, but hey, I’m shootin’ my shot here. I want you to be my girlfriend, please and thank you. You and also your dead wife willing — may she rest in peace, if that’s gucci.”

Magnus strokes the soft skin of Taako’s waist, staring at every blink over every hard word. She knows how hard Taako’s trying and she’s trying for her. How incredible is that? How lucky is she? Jules, I think I may be in good hands.

“I am very willing. And I think Julia would… want this for me. She was that way, you know?”

Taako smiles at her, presses a kiss to her lips and then sucks hard on her bottom lip until Magnus groans. “You taste like me, which is very hot. I mean, my pussy is Michelin star rated, as you know. But I think I know exactly what I want to go for my second course,” she wiggles her eyebrows and starts to slide down the length of Mag’s body.

“Get these clothes off right now.” _

Taako can’t keep a plant alive. Taako cooks everything and anything and it's always fantastic, takes 2-hour long baths, despite the messes she leaves everywhere in her room. She doesn’t care that Mag leaves her dirty work boots toppled over in the foyer, but does care about what Magnus wears when they go out together.

She likes bad TV (so did Jules), nicknames, and surprisingly, kids too. She hates dogs. She also hates pot pies, but makes them for Magnus, anyway. Magnus thinks she is probably, definitely in love with Taako, despite the dog thing. (She’s working on it.)

[lukebaker-archive]

Road To Hell .

Date: Saturday, January 2020 Key:  TW Drug Relapse , @dallas-micheal Sober/Clean: 0 days.

Luke: Everything was still, but Luke's mind had been racing. The days and nights had melted together and no matter how fast the world was moving around him, it felt as if his body was glued to the car seat. His nose was on fire, dry, but craving for more substances to inflame his nose was all he needed. Reaching for his phone, he grunted to himself. No service, no drugs. "Fuck." Luke forced himself up, his pulse rising, the world spinning, and the only thing he could think of was his cravings. That was when the lightbulb hit him. Luke forcefully pulled up the floor liner on his passenger side, a small plastic baggie with white powder taking over his thoughts. Within the next seconds, his body went into autopilot, drawing the line and praying for some kind of comfort to avoid the withdraw.

Dallas: It was odd when his right hand didnt answer his texts. Even more odd when he wouldnt answer his calls. Dallas left a few messages for Luke, letting him know Becky was on the lookout and everyone was wondering where Degrassis resident playboy had went. He knew if Luke wanted to be found then the boy would let people know of his presence. "Im gonna head for a walk," Dallas called out into the abyss of the Torres home, knowing someone heard him before he left. Ever since the Vanessa drama, and not having Luke around to discuss and distract. He was left to his own devices, and going for a walk seemed like his best and favorite option. It had been about half an hour when Dallas decided that he should probably head back home, but as he turned the corner to go the back route home, a familiar sight caught his eye. He would've recognized that car anywhere, but why was it in this neighborhood. As he started walking towards the car, he realized someone was in the car. "Luke!" He called out as he neared the same the vehicle

Luke: He could hear his name in the distance, but Luke was too transfixed in his own mind to let himself be bothered. His body relaxed into the chair, the numbness in his body grabbing onto his body. Luke had missed this feeling. The world was quiet. The fighting in his head had finally silenced and he was safe inside his own head, but it would come at a cost. First he had images of Fiona at first to comfort him, to carry him into safer dreams, but he knew better than that. The safer dreams needed to erase Fiona, Becky, anyone who mattered for that fact to fully feel everything. All he had was darkness, that's what he wanted.

Dallas: He scrunched his brows when no one responded, he kept walking towards the car. He realized the drivers door was popped open as he got closer. "Luke," He spoke as he finally made his way towards the door. Eyes immediately training on the little baggie sat on the passengers seat. "Fuck," He spoke as he looked down at his friend, he knew all to well where the boy was in his high. He shook his head as he quickly grabbed the baggie and shoved it. He spoke quickly, trying to get eye contact with his friend. He was supposed to help this from happening, he tried to help the boy. And had done decently up until this point, or so he had thought.

Luke: The cool breeze threw Luke off as the figure was speaking out to him. He simply nodded I response to his best friend. Or at least what he believed was his best friend. Everything was bright and in focus despite the darkness of the night, but he couldn't pull his friends face or name from his mind. Only Dallas' voice was able to reach to Luke. A sniffle as he reached over to make another line. His eyes widen not being there. "Fuckin' hell. Where'd I put it," he whispered mainly to himself. "You got it right? You saw where it was?" His thoughts weren't on anything else but riding this high out. He felt his inner self screaming in the back of his mind, but the urge was too strong. "Come on, man. I just need one more bump."

Dallas: He shook his head at his friend, the boy barely knew what was happening besides his next fix. The boy was already high as a kite, "What you need is to move over so I can drive us out of this place," He stopped himself from calling the boy a fucking idiot. He knew the history, why it was his kryptonite. He understood the thrill of the drug, he was lucky to not get to the same point as Luke, at least with the ivory powder. "We'll go to my place," He didnt have his keys on him, but Luke was given a key to his place the day his mom met him. "We can chill there and Ill let you have all the bumps,"

Luke: "Just lemme get one more on the way there," Luke spoke erratically. He didn't feel in control of his body as he lifted out of the car. Instead of walking around the car, Luke forced himself into the back seat, laying on his back forcing to stare at the car roof. The drive wouldn't take long, but Luke didn't know that. He barely knew where he was right now and all he could focus on was the next line. "Lemme get just one before we get there. Just something small to keep the edge off."

Dallas: Dallas got in the car quickly starting it and pulling out, checking on Luke through the rear view, "You'll be fine, its a couple minutes. Do you know how long you been gone?" He quizzed, already assuming the boys answer. If it had been anything like how Dallas found him then he definitely didn't even know the time of day let alone day of the week. "I got some shit to tell you when we get there. As always its about Vanessa, I already know what youll say," He tried to discuss anything but the drugs, hoping it would at least distract the boy.It had been a while since he'd done anything, now Dallas was just wondering what ignited it.

Luke: Luke's face turned confused at the question. "Uh, depends? Is the dance still going on?" His brain was fuzzy with the timeline and he felt like he was forgetting something. Or someone? "Was I supposed to do something?" He hadn't thought he was gone from the Match Dance that long, but then again the amount of sunrises he had seen and forgotten made him think differently. "I always liked you and V. She smells like vanilla and made you less of a dick," Luke laughed to himself. "Your game was better too. Maybe it was the lack of V from V," he continued his laugh even distracting him from himself.

Dallas: Dallas furrowed his brows, remembering someone saying Luke left them at the dance, "Its about a week later buddy, and I think you may be right about forgetting someone. Cant remember who," He shrugged as he pulled onto his road, the familiarity hitting him immediately. Dallas couldnt help the chuckle that left his mouth, "She smells like vanilla with a hint of citrus, but only if you're close enough," He failed to mention the light leather scent she held due to the countless jackets she owned, and the lettermans she borrowed. "She always had twisted ways of getting me to focus," He chuckled lightly, before a frown over took his features, "Unfortunately, she needs time for herself," He sighed as he pulled into his driveway, parking the car. "I get it and all, but I just fucking got her back into my life,"

Luke: "A week?" Luke raised an eyebrow. The time couldn't have been passed through that much, could it have? "She needs time alone or you let her push her away?" Luke called him out. Luke didn't know much, but even in his mind he had clarity about things sober Luke didn't want to speak about. "Fi did something stupid when I let her be alone. Don't let it happen to her either. You don't wanna see her like that," he said lowly. The mention of Fiona shook Luke's head. He didn't want to think about her right now. Her face began flushing in his mind with disappointment and replaying the night before she was hospitalized. All that guilt and hurt circling back, fixating on his mind. "Fuck, gimme the baggie." Luke's voice more forceful. "I need it."

Dallas: "She just said she isn't herself and she inst that happy. She cant be with me if she doesn't know herself type of thing i guess," He turned as he heard the shift in Lukes tone. "You good? Whats going through your mind?" He could see a few different emotions crossing his face but couldn't make em all out. "Lets head inside," He got outta the car, making his way to the door to unlock it. If he got Luke inside first, it'll be a lot easier to keep him there for a bit of time. At least to try and detox him before bringing him home.

Luke: "And you just /left/? Sounds like a cry for help, but what do I know," Luke replied, chuckling. The laughter echoed in his head even though he had stopped being audible with it. He just needed a sound to get Fiona's image out of his head. "Just give me my damn drugs." Luke's voice was aggressive as he leaned up from his the backseat. Against his own mind, Luke's body followed Dallas' words only for the powder he was holding. He was hard on his feet, heavy in his steps as he made his way to the Torres' residence. The last thing he needed was a lecture from Audra so he remained quiet without being told sold. Luke's sniffling had become heavy now, "I did what you asked. Draw me a line, would'ja."

Dallas: "I didnt know what else to do Luke. The love of my life was telling me she couldnt be with me and I panicked. Shes the only girl ive ever loved and honestly more than likely will ever love," He thought about Lukes words, he knew he needed to eventually talk to her about the situation. But he also assumed she wanted her space for a little bit, and honestly he needed his too. Dallas sighed as he pulled the baggie from his pocket. "How bout I indulge with you? A little bro bonding,"

Luke: "Look, dumbass, the love of my life told me the same thing. I left her alone and next thing i knew she had drank herself to the bottom of the staircase. I'm not letting you make the same mistake," Luke spoke trying to reason. All he could see in his mind right now was Fiona in that hospital bed and it was beginning to eat at him. He wanted to forget, he needed to forget. The drug must have been wearing off because he was beginning to see clearly again. The baggie made the "Yeah, yeah man. It'll help you forget her. Help us forget them both," he spoke quickly. It was beginning to hurt and at this point he'd say whatever. "You won't think about her or any of them, just one line."

Dallas: "So that's what really happened. I knew she didn't go to Paris," He shook his head as he took the baggie out of his pocket. Opening it, he glanced at Luke noticing him looking in the opposite direction before he "accidentally" dropped the baggie all into the carpet. "Fuck!" He said loudly trying to play it off as if the bag slipped. "They need to put fucking grips on these things,"

Luke: "Call your fucking girlfriend." Luke's eyes stayed focus on the bagging until he thought he had heard footsteps. In that quick second everything had turned red. The powder was completely on the floor and he was on his knees trying to pick any trace up. The rage grew on his face as he snarled up at Dallas. "You need to get me more! I can't... I can't go back," he rambled. "You gotta help me man. You gotta get me more."

Dallas: "Im sorry it slipped!" He had never seen the amount of anger on Lukes face as he had in that moment. He knew he couldnt go get him more, let alone leave him by himself. "Sit," He spoke calmly, pointing to the spot on the opposite end of the couch. "Do you think if I call her she'll actually answer? I did leave her in the middle of the a diner, " He silently begged that he would just forget, and focus on the conversation.

Luke: He could only sink into the seat, knowing the inevitable was coming. "Ask yourself the same thing, if she called would you answer?" he replied. Luke was stubborn and impulsive, but the one thing you couldn't say about him was he didn't know how to treat people he loved, well not in this mindstate anyway. "If you're gonna make me suffer, can you at least get me a beer to try and ride this?" It was a shallow statement, only needing him away from a quick moment so he can try to save everything that was on the carpet.

Dallas: "Fair point," He looked at his phone that was sat on the edge of the table. He had stopped himself many times in the past couple days from picking it up and texting her. "You think Momma Dallas has alcohol? Funny," He chuckled, after his dad went away his mom decided that alcohol was the reason, and no more would be allowed. "I may have a bottle of vodka in my room if you wanna go check," He shrugged, " Not positive however," He grabbed the television remote, turning it on and switching the HDMI so they could use the PlayStation.

Luke: only shook his head, knowing he was going to have to find a whole new stash all on his own. His eyes just stayed focus on carpet, not even noticing Dallas turning his attention to the tv. He could feel the comedown happening, his mind leaving high alert and his body trying to avoid the mania that was coming. He leaned back into the couch, just ready tp let the suffering kick in.