#I swear it’s like they’ve never seen curly hair before

[celestial-sadgirl]

Just got my first haircut since before the pandemic.

So obviously I’m crying in my room after telling them they did a great job.

[mywritersmind]

COLD HANDS - KA12

christmas special

↳pt.1

summary : New family friends isn’t something Kimi Antonelli put on his christmas list. Yet when a pretty girl his age shows up, he is definitely not complaining . In a beautiful italian manor and someone new to spice up the holidays, Kimi’s christmas is looking better than ever.

listen up : swearing! google translate! he falls first! crushes! curious girl + kimi who will do anything she says lol! comment to be on tag list!

words : 2776

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I hear my moms screech as I rifle through my suitcase, “Kimi!” I groan and throw my clothes out, looking for a specific bracelet that I threw in here last minute, “Scendi! Sbrigati!” (Come down! Hurry up!)

Her tone makes me know to not mess around, “Cosa c'è di così urgente!?” I yell back, finally finding the bracelet and hurrying out of my room (what is so urgent!?) I regret not grabbing my sweatshirt immediately when I step outside to look for my family.

It’s absolutely freezing. My arms tense up as I struggle with the clasp of my bracelet still, turning the corner to the driveway and pausing when I spot the crowd.

The ‘Crowd’ as is my dad, mom, sister, and four other people I don’t know.

I swear to myself and put on my favorite son smile, “Hi! Sorry.” I say in english, knowing instantly that i’m going to get yelled at by my mother later.

“Kimi.” My dad gives me a look but I know behind the stern facade, he’s biting back a laugh, “These are the Lexingtons.” I nod as my bracelet finally clasps and I breathe out.

“Oh he knows us!” The dad is tall and vaguely familiar. I’ve met the parents before and pretend I remember them more than I actually do, shaking his hand and hugging the mom.

They’ve been my parents' closest friends for the last three years and have decided that we must spend Christmas together for some reason. My mom thought it was the best idea ever while my sister only cared about Santa skimping on the presents.

“I don’t believe you’ve met our daughters!” The mom is very nice and my eyes leave her to land on the girl her same height, “This is Y/n, and…” I wish I was kidding when I say I don’t hear anything this woman says after Y/n.

She’s fucking stunning. His cheeks are flushed from the cold and her arms are tightly against her puffer jacket. She’s wearing a beanie over her long hair that’s slightly curled.

My sister steps on my foot which brings me back to reality as her new friend, Y/n’s little sister, smiles up at me.

Two whole weeks with a family I barely know and their gorgeous daughter who’s staying in the room over from mine. This should be interesting and in my case, likely embarrassing.

⋆༺

you

“I don’t believe you’ve met our daughters!” I hear my mom talk but am stuck on looking at the outside of the house. I’m cold and hungry and wanting to get these introductions over with so we can go inside. “Y/n, this is the Antonelli's son! Kimi!”

My moms words make me turn from the landscape of white trees and blue skies, to the man in front of me, “You two should get along great! Y/n loves racing and is your age!”

He looks a bit shy and doesn’t open his mouth except for the corner quirking up a bit. He’s taller than me, weirdly in a short sleeve shirt that’s making me more aware of his arms in the cold. He’s got dark curly hair that’s being dusted in snow, his face is young yet sharp. Shit he’s cute.

I’ve seen him before, I’ve stalked him on instagram purely for his racing. When he got announced for the next Mercedes driver, I may have cried purely because it meant Lewis was truly going to Ferrari. Still, I've never seen him in person unless it was a big screen at a race.

The moment we get inside, the dads take our bags and speak quickly as they go up the stairs. Our sisters have met before and are already best friends. I wish it was as easy to make friends at eighteen as it was at eight.

My mom turns to me, smiling and rubbing my arm as I still shiver from the cold. “It’s beautiful here, E.” She addresses Kimi’s mom as she claps her hands together, clearly pleased.

“I must show you around!” The dark haired woman turns to Kimi, starting in Italian before switching back to english. I’m assuming it’s because my mom and I don’t understand the language. “Kimi, Go show Y/n around! Maybe you two can go and get the firewood later!”

She kisses his cheek to which he doesn’t look embarrassed but more pleased at his moms happiness.

My mom and his disappear into the kitchen as he slips his hands in his pockets, stretching his arms and not meeting my eyes.

“So…” I clock the accent immediately, “The backyard is really cool but I'll spare you from the cold for now.” He smiles and looks at me.

“I appreciate it. I’m not really used to the cold.” I shrug, I usually spend the Christmas season on the beach. “Have you guys been here for long?” It’s awkward but I panic. I heard they come here every winter break and have owned his house for years.

“No… just got here this morning.” I nod slowly, looking around the entryway.

He clears his throat, “I’ll show you around later, how does warming up in the car sound? We really do need firewood.”

His words make me less nervous, “That sounds perfect.” Kimi drives his family's rental car, blasting the heat as I finally take off my jacket for the first time today.

I’m in jeans and a long sleeve navy top, Kimi is in a black crewneck which makes my thoughts much more holy. “Your mom said you like racing? Are you a merc fan or am I going to have to ignore you for the rest of this trip?”

I surprisingly laugh at his words, “I’m a Lewis fan which is complicated…” considering he’s officially taking his seat.

He shrugs, one hand on the wheel and the other tapping the gearshift, “I’ll just have to make you a Kimi fan.” he says it with a cheeky smirk planted on his face, “Have you ever been to a race?”

I nod, “I saw you race actually, your family invited us. I actually can’t believe this is the first time I'm meeting you… Our families are so close.”

He agrees and I realize how small this town is as he pulls into the store. , “Right, I'm pretty busy.” He scratches the back of his neck and parks. “Are you out of school yet?”

“Yup! I’m interning at an art museum actually, school was never really my thing.”

“I get it.” He gets out of the car. “But my schooling was more casual because of racing. Maggie is the total opposite of me, she loves it.”

I hop out and follow him in, “Your sister is adorable, the first time I met her, she wouldn’t stop bragging about you.”

This makes his cheeks go red, “She’s very proud.”

“It’s cute.” I lose him in an aisle, looking for gum.

I jump up and see the top of his head, making my way back over to him as he holds the wrapped wood.

He holds it up and laughs a bit, “Aren’t we supposed to be rustic and cut wood ourself this trip?” I cross my arms as he shakes his head.

“By all means, go ahead. I’ll stay with my pre-cut firewood.” I have a vision of Kimi, an axe, and a stump and quickly shake my head and watch him pay.

He speaks to the man at the register in italian, quick and twisted words that I can’t understand. Peaking back at me with a small smile on his face.

⋆༺

kimi

“This is your room.” I yawn, tired for the day of traveling and being on my best behavior. I lean against the door frame as she walks around it, dropping her bag on the bed and sitting down. “I’m right next door, if you need anything.”

She raises brow as I cough and realize how weird that sounded, “I mean not that you would… I'm sure you’re perfectly capable.” I’m blushing now, “Um! I mean like if you can’t figure out the heat or- i’m gonna shut up now.” I want to slap myself for my stupid rambling.

She’s grinning now, laughing at me, “Do you snore?” She doesn’t miss a beat and it makes me sigh in relief, shaking my head. “Then we should be good.”

I nod, “Well… i’m gonna go.” I stand up straight.

“I’ll be sure to ask for anything, if I need it.” Her nose scrunches cutely, teasing me a bit as I shake my head and walk out.

Maggie and Y/n’ sister, Delilah are sharing the room downstairs. Maggie jumped at the idea of sharing the bunk bed room with Delilah so Y/n is in her old room.

Mine is my favorite in the house. It’s not the biggest, but has the best view of the backyard and mountains. When I was younger, I’d sit and build legos on the balcony, practically freezing my ass off and giggling while doing it.

I brush my teeth and wash my face, falling asleep in my bed shirtless and in pajama pants because of how high my dad puts the temperature. I’m woken up by Y/n’s scream.

I don’t even get the chance to see if she’s okay before my door is being pounded on. She’s whisper yelling, “Kimi! Antonelli! Italian kid hurry up!” I pull off the blanket and open the door, she’s bouncing up and down with a horrified look on her face.

She looks at me panicked, “Somethings in there!”

I raise a brow, still tired and very confused, “Something?” Her makeup is off and she’s in sweats and a hoodie, just as pretty as she was all dressed up.

I zone back in when I remember she’s pretty but still in distress, “It was under the covers! Antonelli, I swear!” The way Y/n is looking at me, so convincingly, I believe her.

“You’re gonna make me go look, aren’t you?” A sweet smile lands on her face, shooing me into the room. I shake my head and secretly say a prayer that I'm not about to be attacked by a woodland creature.

I can hear her breathing as I step up to her bed, seeing a tiny lump under the blanket. I know instantly, pulling off the comforter and laughing quietly, “Shit, Lex!” I mess with her a bit, “It’s huge!”

I grab my sisters kitten and turn around with her in my grasp, Y/n squeals but her face drops when she realizes it’s a cat. “You have a cat!?” She yells at me as if it’s my fault.

“It’s Maggie’s!” I shrug, holding her fluffy little body against my skin. Her against me reminds me that I am still shirtless.

It clearly reminds Y/n too because her cheeks go red, giving me complete false hope and boosting my ego. She hums before stepping forward and scratching her head, “I can’t believe no one told me! What’s the name?”

“Bambi.” I say as she starts biting my finger and clawing into my hand, “Ow!” Y/n is laughing now as I try to pry the little beast off of me.

I try to keep it down but Bambi is clawing my skin! “Maggie is supposed to keep her downstairs-” she then flies off my hand and onto the floor where she scrambles under Y/n’s bed.

⋆༺

you

Kimi looks defeated and I almost feel bad for waking him up. When he moves his hand to his hair, I don’t feel as bad.

I was in such a state of shock that I didn’t even realize he was shirtless until he was in front of me, holding a kitten. I feel like I'm in some smutty book, especially with the crack of the fire and the snow past my windows.

“What time is it? You scared the shit out of me.” Kimi shakes his head as I grab my phone from the nightstand. I panicked so bad that I didn’t even try to run down the hallway to find my parents, just went to Kimi.

“Midnight.” I shrug, tugging at my hoodie’s neck, “You went to sleep at like eight though.” He gives me an annoyed look.

“I was tired!” His hands go to his hips, “What have you been doing then?”

I look at the floor that’s covered in wrapping paper and tape, “Wrapping presents!” His eyes are narrowed and glued to the shitty job I'm doing. “Okay I gave up for a reason!”

Kimi shakes his head and laughs a bit, “This cannot be your honest attempt at wrapping.”

I frown and sit down, my feet covered by fluffy socks. “People make it look so easy! I wanted to do it so we could have presents under the tree.”

He sighs and sits next to me, “Lucky for you.” He takes the roll of tape and circles it around his finger before grinning, “I’m a great wrapper.”

Five presents later and I'm laughing my ass off, “You’re a horrible wrapper!” He’s wearing a sweatshirt now, claiming he got ‘cold’ but I'm pretty sure he caught me checking him out.

Kimi holds up the wrapped barbie for my sister, his brow raised, “Excuse you… This- is a masterpiece.” There’s extra bits of tape on it and ripped parts of the paper.

I shake my head and grab the monstrosity out of his hands, “Maybe if I squint!” I run my hand through my hair as Kimi leans against the wood of my bed that I haven’t even laid in yet.

“I still need a present for my dad. Are you all done shopping?”

I laugh, “Antonelli, a woman is never done shopping.” A slow smirk makes its way onto his face as his head leans back.

“Then you can help with mine.” His finger taps against his knee, his eyes soft and tired. “Any plans for tomorrow?”

I shake my head, “Your mom said we were going to the store and she insisted I see some tree lighting…?” Kimi smiles at this.

“Yeah the town has a tree lighting every year!”

“Oh! Like new york?” Bambi, who’s been hiding under my bed until now, waddles out onto Kimi’s lap looking just as tired as him.

Kimi smooths his hand over her fur, which is the size of her. He looks confused so I pull out my phone and show him a video. His jaw is dropped in an instant. “How- How does that work electrically wise?

I scoff, “You’re not wondering how they got a gigantic tree there!?”

He rolls his eyes, “Well, Yes! But that’s a fuck load of lights. Don’t expect that tomorrow… the tree is the same every year and nowhere near that size.”

“I’m excited to explore! Do you have any other traditions?” my phone dings and I ignore it.

He nods, “You’ll have to see for yourself though…” my phone dings, “Also if my parents mention anything about a cheese wheel, run.” my phone dings again as I frown.

Who is texting me so late? It dings again, groaning, I pick it up.

Kimi holds a knee to his chest, “Boyfriend blowing up your phone?”

I let out an involuntary snort, “No!” He raises a brow at my reaction, “I mean, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Good to know.” The look on his face that follows his words tells me that he did not think before he spoke.

I ignore the blush on his cheeks and look down at my best friend's flood of texts, “It’s my friend… Sorry she’s totally freaking out.”

“Is she okay?” He lets Bambi lick his finger.

I text back quickly and nod, “Yes she just suffers from dramatizing everything.” He laughs quietly, “Girl drama.”

I yawn and stretch. We’ve been on the floor for what feels like hours and when my friend's text pops up again, I realize it has been.

“We should get to sleep… one tradition I will warn you about is my moms early breakfast’s.” He stands up with Bambi in his hand, “I’ll take B in my room.”

“You can leave her!” I stand, “Now that I know she’s harmless, except for some mild biting, she can stay.” He looks pleasantly surprised, handing her over to me, our hands touching.

He smiles as I bring her to my face and she licks my nose, “Night, Lex.” it catches me off guard for a second, then I realize he’s referring to my last name.

I smile softly and watch him leave, “Sweet dreams, Antonelli.”

[irregularcollapse]

Something about your ‘limerance’ au has really stuck with me - all the little snippets you posted have me incredibly intrigued!

I think it’s the outsider POV to the Clegan relationship and how easily their dynamic can be misunderstood, because it’s truly only Gale and John who see each other clearly.

Would love another snippet if you’re still working on it, but otherwise just wanted to let you know that it is living in my head rent free (like all of your fics)!

I actually tried to work on this one the other day!! I got a bit self-conscious about it, but I still like the premise and every time I rewatch parts of MOTA with Curt in them, I’m reminded of how malleable an interpretation of his behaviour around the Buckies can be. I have particular thoughts about the bar scene (and it’s actually this scene that’s the basis for my ideas about past CurtBucky in ITIL).

But okay the limerance fic!! These are the first 500 words (under a cut), because I don’t actually know when I’m going to be finishing it:

The curveball is that this one is fucking blond.

Every other fuck-of-the-month that Bucky has brought round for as long as Curt’s known him—which is a long-ass time—has been a dark-haired slip of a thing. They’ve all without exception been brunette, sometimes curly, sometimes also with blue eyes, and it made good material for ribbing Bucky about his untold levels of narcissism. Curt would tease him, call his hookups The Other Bucky or Clone Kink instead of learning their actual name, and within a month they’d be gone anyway so it didn’t matter.

Then, a week or two later, there’d be another.

This one, though. This one is fucking blond, and though still not quite as tall as Bucky is definitely taller than Curt, and when he speaks he sounds like a cowboy and he moves with the ease of a dancer. They’re always pretty, of course they are, because Bucky has that face and that size and that powerful pull—pheromones, or something—but this one, well. It’s obscene, is what it is. People who go to book launch events aren’t supposed to look like that.

Bucky had asked if Curt wanted to go with him, that night. Curt remembers it, because it was a party at a bookstore for Bucky’s friend Alex and his first graphic novel, but Curt doesn’t know Alex and it honestly sounded like a bit of a drag, so he’d stayed in and played poker with his roommate’s buddies instead. It was only a couple days later, when Curt had asked Bucky if he wanted to grab a beer and see a movie, that Bucky had said, “Can’t. Got a date with a guy from the book party.”

And now, here he is: blond, and pouty-lipped, and golden-lashed, and angle-jawed; husky drawl and easy sprawl and legs long in his jeans. He had his arm spread over the back of a chair while Bucky got him a drink, and he leaves it there after Bucky sits down. The group has been talking around him, the way they’re used to talking around Bucky’s hookups (Curt had caught a raised eyebrow from Benny after they’d walked in together; he’s not the only one who thinks these things), and he hasn’t been making any effort to involve himself anyway. When Bucky sets the drink in front of him, his broad hand then drops to the guy’s thigh, spreading and squeezing. The smile he gives Bucky is a flicker. As Curt watches, Bucky leans in, and he can’t hear it over the noise of the bar from all the way across the table, but he swears that Bucky asks, “You okay?”

The guy smiles a bit wider then, nodding, and Curt’s tongue feels two sizes too big when Bucky smiles back and reaches up with his other hand to cup the guy’s chin. Maybe Curt only notices it because he’s looking, but it sends his ears buzzing when Bucky’s thumb rubs at that pink bottom lip, tracing the curve of it. Curt has never seen him do that before.

[galexystern]

call me

pairing; eddie munson/fem!reader

rating; t

warnings; dialogue-fic, swearing, pining, fluff, angst, dialogue-heavy fic, no use of y/n

word count; 8.5k

desc; you meet eddie just before he goes on tour. can you two survive the long-distance and his rising fame?

a/n; this is based on an idea i wanted to happen to me a couple days ago

read on ao3 / masterlist

Everything is going to (your very rushed, reorganized many times) plan when you get waylaid by merch.

It catches just the corner of your eye, and then it’s all you can think about. Of course you want a t-shirt from the tour, how could you forget that? You’d saved money especially for it.

So you divert your path and go to stand in front of the table. It’s not very busy, but there seem to be a lot of people manning it, six when you count. But only two are in the venue’s uniform, and the other four are in plain, rocker attire. You check your watch again—you’ve done it so many times today you almost don’t even register the numbers anymore—and realize it’s probably the opening act. They’ve almost certainly already played, since the main act must be coming on any minute. Your gaze darts over them—they’re cute, a little nerdy, but they look nice—before your anxiety reminds you how late it is and hones your stare in on the merch.

You’re taking up precious time debating when someone from behind the table calls out, “Hey! You need some help?”

You look down to meet the gaze of a boy about your age, with long, wavy black hair and eyes that look like your favorite kind of milk chocolate. He’s smiling, expectant, and you jerk when you realize you haven’t said anything back.

“Oh,” you rush to reply, “I’m just trying to decide between two shirts.”

“Which ones? Maybe we can help.” There’s a daring, mischievous look in his eye that makes you step forward and take up the challenge, despite never having done so before with anyone else.

“A and C.” You point to them.

All six people turn around to study them. A is a simple silver-on-black style of the band’s logo and the tour dates and cities on the back. C is a picture of the band from an album cover, also with the dates and cities on the back.

“Tough choice,” the metalhead—because he clearly is one, with his leather jacket, Dio denim vest, black skinny jeans, and chain belts—muses.

You hum and nod. “Hence the indecision.”

“I think I’ve seen more people buy the second one,” another boy from the opening band says, with red hair and an interesting distressed plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off.

“Maisie, crunch the numbers, please,” a third member requests, with a cropped afro and his own worn leather jacket.

A venue employee takes a look at her clipboard, and you all wait anxiously as she tallies the sales. “A has sold the most,” she finally says.

The last boy from the band, with curly hair and an Iron Maiden shirt you like, rubs the shoulder of the second boy, who seems oddly sad by his prediction being wrong. The first boy, the metalhead, turns back to you. “Well, there you go,” he says with a flourish.

“I guess A it is then,” you reply.

“Wait,” he interrupts, making everyone pause. “You don’t sound very happy about that.”

“What? It was one of the options I picked out.”

“Sure, but when it came down to it, you knew which one you wanted and that’s not it. Am I right?” He gazes at you, both cocky and nervous, if that’s possible.

You look back, wondering how he could tell, before answering, “You’re right.”

He claps his hands in triumph. “Knew it! Andy, will you please bag up shirt C for this lovely lady?”

You blush a little as the other venue employee glances at you. “Size?”

“Large, please.”

He nods and grabs the shirt, folding it nicely before putting it in a bag. “That it?” He’s set your shirt on the table by the register.

You nod but then the metalhead says, “Sure I can’t tempt you into buying one of our shirts?”

You look at the limited options for their band, apparently named Corroded Coffin. The style is cute and you like their logo, but like every other piece of merchandise at the table, it’s too expensive.

“Maybe if it was twenty dollars cheaper,” you joke as you give your hard-earned and specially saved cash to Andy. “Besides, I haven’t even heard y’all play. Can’t buy a shirt for a band I can’t sing along to.”

The metalhead’s brows furrow. “You didn’t hear us? We were pretty loud.”

You laugh. “I just got here. Today has been a shitshow.” Andy hands you your change and the bag.

“What happened?” This boy is asking like there’s not five other people around you and you’re not at a concert merch table, and you kinda like it.

“Work just kept going and going, every time I thought I’d get outta there at a decent time they kept adding things for me to do. And then the El stalled at one station for fifteen minutes, I was dying in the heat and humidity down there. Not to mention all the stairs I had to run up and down.” You’re rambling, but he’s nodding like he’s enraptured.

“Wow, that sucks. I’m sorry that happened.” His lip quirks up. “Though I’m more sorry you didn’t get to hear us play.”

You smile. “Do y’all have a record out? Maybe I can get it after my next paycheck.”

“Gareth,” he orders, and the plaid-vested boy hands him a record. The metalhead presents it to you. “Here. On the house.”

Your jaw drops a little. “What? I can’t take that.”

He laughs. “I think we’d all rather have more people hear our stuff than make money right now. Right, boys?” Gareth and the leather jacket boy nod, while Iron Maiden looks doubtful, until his band mates slap his shoulder and he nods too.

“Oh, well, thank you. That’s really nice of you.” You take the record from him and tuck it between your arms, cradling it like it’s precious.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he replies. “That’s Gareth, Grant, and Jeff.” They all wave and you smile. You’re not sure which is Grant and which is Jeff but you can learn. You give them your name as well. “Fitting,” Eddie says.

You cock your head in confusion.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He grins when your cheeks get redder.

“Thanks.” Your voice is barely there.

Then there’s a bunch of loud screaming and the starting of a rock song. You gasp. “I gotta go!”

You’re about to rush away when Eddie shouts, “Wait!” You stop and look back at him, face surely revealing your anxiety about getting inside. “Come with us,” he continues. You give him a suspicious expression, so he adds, “Backstage. You can watch from the best seat in the house. And you might be able to meet them.”

You gape at them for the second time in five minutes. “Are you serious?”

“Totally.” Eddie looks at his band, who all nod in agreement. “Come on.” They step out from the table and move towards a back door. You look at Andy and Maisie, clearly asking them if this is legit and you’re not about to be murdered, and they both smile and nod. Reassured, you run after the boys in a daze, entering a dark labyrinth of hallways.

“Which is it?” Eddie hisses.

“Third door,” someone answers, sounding annoyed, like they’ve had to do this many times today.

Eddie locates the right door and opens it, letting light spill into the corridor. You follow the boys through it and into the backstage area, which is much more normal and dirty than you’d expected. They lead you all the way to the wings of the stage, music getting louder with every step, until you’re looking right at the lead singer, bouncing around onstage. You stare in amazed shock, closer to your idols than you ever have been before.

“Pretty good, right?” Eddie murmurs from his spot beside you. You nod in disbelief.

It takes you until the end of the opening number to settle down, and then you’re engrossed in the music. You sing all the lyrics and dance to the beat, not a care in the world. This is better than your wildest dreams of how you thought tonight would pan out. Eddie stays next to you throughout the show, and you two sing and dance along together, having more fun than you thought possible. He’s adorable when he lets go, just enjoying himself, and your desire to kiss him grows as the night goes on.

You’re suddenly nervous when the band finishes before their encore, wondering if they’ll come to your side, but thankfully they go to the other one, and you don’t have to introduce yourself in the approximately two minutes before they go back on. But when the set’s really over, encore done, the band does head your way offstage. You stumble into Eddie, who grabs your upper arms so you don’t fall as the band members walk past you. You try not to stare like a crazy fan, but it’s a losing battle. At least none of them look at you.

When they’ve gone, you breathe deep. “Oh my god,” you whisper.

Eddie laughs in your ear, voice low and spine-tingling, and you realize you’re still in his space. You step forward, missing the warmth of his hands, and turn to him. He’s smiling like you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Have fun?”

“Oh my god,” you repeat at a normal tone, and he laughs again.

“Let’s go meet them!”

“Oh my god!" You say for a third time and Eddie snorts.

“You might want to remember some more words by the time we get in there,” he suggests. You nod and he takes you out of the wings and to the green room. He turns around before opening the door. “Lemme just make sure they’re cool with it. Can’t have them yelling at you, sweetheart, when it’d be my fault.”

You blush while you nod, too much happening to wrap your head around. He disappears inside and you try to calm down, get your composure back before meeting your favorite band.

Then the door is opening, and it’s like slow-motion as Monochrome is revealed.

It’s a little anti-climatic, to be honest, as the members are sitting around in a small, ordinary room that’s not even green. But they are all looking at you in interest. You glance at Eddie, who nods encouragingly, and step inside gingerly. “Hi,” you squeak out, immediately clearing your throat before giving your name. “I’m a big fan.”

“Well, thank you for being a fan,” Connor, the lead singer and guitarist, says.

“And thanks for coming to the show,” Dan, the drummer, adds.

“I was really excited for it,” you reply.

Leon, the bassist, asks, “Did we play your favorite song? I love asking that question.”

You nod. “‘Rush’ is my favorite. I wasn’t sure you guys were gonna do it.”

Dan looks thoughtful. “It’s not one of our more popular tunes but we like it.” You smile at his smile.

“Obviously, me too,” you joke, and Dan laughs a little.

“You know, I wasn’t sure, so thanks for clearing that up,” he replies sarcastically, making you giggle.

The door closes loudly, startling everyone. You all look at Eddie, who seems sheepish enough. “Sorry,” he mutters, but there’s an edge to his tone that makes you think he doesn’t fully mean it.

“You want something to drink?” Dan asks.

“Oh, I don’t need anything.”

“Seriously, we’ve got plenty of stuff.” He stands and goes over to a mini-fridge tucked into a corner. He opens it and you see rows upon rows of cans, beer and seltzer and whatever else.

“Um, okay, maybe a beer?”

“PBR or Coors?”

You wrinkle your nose at the options, making everyone laugh. You redden as you answer, “PBR, I guess.”

“Lesser of two evils?” Leon teases. You nod while Dan grabs the can and opens it before handing it to you. You thank him and he winks.

“So how did you guys feel about the show?” Eddie asks, causing Dan to smoothly step away. You look at the metalhead and take a sip, noting his clenched jaw and balled fists. He seems to realize you’ve noticed and shoves his hands into his pockets.

You hide a smile against the lip of your can. Dan’s cute, and being a member of your favorite band gets him plenty of points, but he was never the one you had a crush on (that honor went to Leon) and he’s a bit too old for your liking. Eddie’s jealousy is flattering and entertaining, but ultimately unnecessary. He had you back when he read you like an open book about the shirt choices.

Connor smiles in response to Eddie’s question. “It was good. I think the crowd had a great time.”

“Shouldn’t we be asking our number one fan over here?” Dan says, turning to you with a playful smirk.

“It was amazing!” You gush, and the band chuckles. “You guys are so good live. You should do a live record.”

“Top secret,” Connor leans close and you look at him eagerly, “there’s one in the works.”

You squeal a little, beaming. “I can’t wait.”

“You’re cute, honey,” Dan says easily, with a grin that could make any other girl’s knees weak.

“Thanks!” You reply, trying to sound innocent and like there’s nothing to read into, because you definitely don’t want to read into it.  You glance at Eddie, and thankfully he can still read your mind, because he walks over to you after seeing your slightly panicked expression.

“We should let them rest. I’ll escort you out.”

You’re nodding halfway through, and walking ahead of him to the door. He opens it for you and you turn around to say goodbye to the band, complimenting them again and setting your mostly full beer on a random surface. Dan has a lightly disgruntled face, but waves with the rest of the band. You let out a breath when the door closes behind you and Eddie.

He places a hand on your shoulder gently. “You okay?”

You look at him, nodding. “Thank you. I know it’s probably not normal behavior but…”

“No need to explain. I can see when a girl’s creeped out by a guy. Happened to me plenty of times.”

You hope he’s joking but it seems like he’s not. You frown. “That can’t be true.”

He walks you down the hallway. “Believe me, sweetheart, it’s true.”

“But you’re so cute and nice and thoughtful,” you exclaim, face heating at your words.

But Eddie just smiles kindly, his own cheeks dusted with pink. “Thanks. Things were just different in high school.”

You hum in understanding. “High school sucks and girls are bitches. I’d know, I was one.”

Eddie looks at you with skepticism. “You? A bitchy girl in high school? Doubt it.”

“I may not have been a mean girl cheerleader but I hurt my share of feelings.”

“Who hasn’t? It’s a wonder we made it out alive with all those raging hormones.”

You laugh. “We were in the trenches, for sure.”

There’s a comfortable silence as you two head back into the darkened maze of back corridors. “What are you doing now?” He asks.

“I’m in school. I go to U of I Chicago.”

He whistles lowly. “Impressive.”

“Whatever.” But you’re blushing again, and hoping the low light is hiding it. “What about you? Did you go to school?”

He snorts. “Nice of you to think that. It took me three tries to graduate high school. The guys and I tore outta there and came here to pursue what we loved.”

“That’s admirable. It’s also sweet that you've known each other so long. And it paid off.”

“Yeah.” He says it like he still can’t believe it, which is adorable. “This is our first tour. We can’t wait to get on the road.”

Disappointment settles in when you realize this is the first date of the tour, and the rest are around the country. All you can do is nod in response, not even caring if he can’t see it. He rushes ahead to open the last door, and you walk out to where it all began: the merch table, which is now empty.

“Well,” you say heavily, “thank you so much for all this. It was so nice of you to do that for a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger. I know your name and what school you go to. We’re friends now.”

You giggle. “You make it sound so ominous, like you’re gonna kill me later.”

“I’m not gonna kill you.” He looks horrified at the way it sounds like he absolutely is, making you laugh more. “Promise! I won’t!”

“I believe you, Eddie.”

He sighs in relief. Then you’re staring at each other awkwardly.

“I guess this is goodbye.” Your mouth twists, not wanting to leave him yet.

“Yeah.” He sounds just as sad as you feel. “You think I could maybe get your number? Call you sometime?”

You brighten. “Yes! I’d love that.”

“Great! Here.” He pulls out a tiny notebook from his pocket, as well as a pen. He flips to a blank page and then gives it to you, and you write down your name, phone number, and a smiley face before handing it back. He glances down and grins at it. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“You too.” You give him an abrupt hug—you two fit together just right—and then walk away backwards. When you’re at the top of the stairs, you make a “call me” gesture and smile when he nods eagerly. You watch him until he disappears from view.

You sigh happily. You can worry about the sadness of never hearing from him tomorrow. Tonight, you’re going to replay the entire encounter and go to bed smiling.

;

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Eddie. From Corroded Coffin?"

"Oh my god, hi."

"You sound surprised."

"Well, I never thought you'd actually call me. You know, you're busy on tour and probably never get any time off. Plus, plenty of other fans to meet and woo."

"You're right, we are pretty busy and don't have much time off. But we're not being held hostage. Besides, all the fans weirdly just want to meet Monochrome. No idea why."

"That's bizarre. I always wanted to meet the opener and not the main act."

"Exactly, it's just not normal."

"But it's good otherwise?"

"Yeah! All our sets have been amazing. Speaking of which, have you listened to our record yet?"

"Yup, a couple times. I really like it."

"I knew you would. And we have another one coming out this Friday."

"No way! I'll have to go buy it after work that day."

"No need. If you'll tell me your address, I'll send you a free copy."

"You sure you don't want it just to murder me?"

"Scout's honor. Not sure how meaningful that is seeing as how I was not a boy scout, but all the same."

Laughing, you give him your dorm address.

"Thanks, sweetheart. We'll send it out ASAP."

"No rush, honestly. You're already being so kind by sending it for free."

"We'll charge the postage. Nah, we've got it covered. You only have to worry your pretty little self with listening to it."

"Promise I will. Thanks."

"No problem, princess."

"So where are y'all tonight?"

"Des Moines, Iowa."

"No wonder you called me. You were that bored."

"Honey, I've been wanting to call you since we met. Just had to work up the nerve. Wasn't sure if you'd remember me."

"Of course I remembered you. Haven't really stopped thinking about it, you know. You, I mean."

"That's really sweet, angel. Honestly, this tour would be a lot better if you were here. Living with six other boys is not a fun time, let me tell you. I thought I was messy, but I've got nothing on these guys."

"Maybe you can steal some stuff and sell it as payback."

"That's not a bad idea. Anyways, what are you doing?"

"Studying."

"Gross. I'm sorry."

"Ha ha. It's not too bad. Authors just put too much meaning into their books. I can't remember all of it."

"You've got this, sweetheart. If you can remember all of Monochrome's lyrics, you can remember this."

"But I like the lyrics a lot more than this."

"Lemme just go ask if they can write a song about whatever you need to memorize. That way it'll be both. I'm sure Dan would be on board."

"Are you jealous, Eddie...I just realized I don't know your last name."

"It's Munson. And no, I'm not jealous."

"Good. You don't need to be."

"That's good to know."

"I'm sure it is."

"Well, I gotta go, pretty girl. Can I call again sometime?"

"Yeah, you can call anytime."

"Okay, great, I will. Not at all hours of the night, but a normal time. And we can talk if you're free."

"That sounds good."

"Okay. I guess...good night then."

"G'night, Eddie."

;

"Hello?"

"Hey, angel."

"Hi, Eddie!"

"How are you?"

"I'm good. I got your package! Thank you for both the record and the shirt, I wasn't expecting it."

"No problem, sweetheart. How'd you like it?"

"It's so good. Been listening to it nonstop."

"Aw, thanks. We're proud of that one."

"You should be! Are you selling it with the other merch?"

"Yeah, we just got the copies yesterday and started selling them tonight. They didn't sell out but we sold some."

"That's good. Maybe you can tell them I think it's really good."

"'Hey, everyone, this girl I really like loves our new single so you should buy it too'?"

"Yeah, exactly. And I'll tell all my friends, 'Hey, a band with this boy I really like came out with a great single, listen to it'."

"Perfect, we'll make up a sign and everything."

"As you should. What city are you in now?"

"Phoenix, Arizona. It's hot as shit down here."

"I don't think I fully understand the tour map. What's next?"

"I think Las Vegas."

"Maybe y'all can detour and see the Grand Canyon on the way there."

"That'd be fun. I've never been out west before this trip."

"Me either. Send me some postcards."

"Maybe on our next tour you can come with and see them for yourself."

"Already planning the second tour, are we?"

"Nowhere to go but up, sweetheart."

"If you headline the next tour, who would you choose as opener?"

"I don't know, that's a good question. There's a couple bands we've played with in Chicago that would be options. I think we'd like it to be a local group."

"That'd be really sweet. Though maybe it could be not all guys this time?"

"Ugh, yes! I didn't know this was possible, but it's gotten worse here. Our bus smells like dirty socks and no one seems to mind or notice."

"Gross. I'm kinda glad I'm not on this tour with you."

"We'll have candles and air freshener ready for the next one."

"Think the candles might be a fire hazard, but it's a nice idea."

"Someone needs to have it."

"You having fun otherwise?"

"Yeah, we've been writing a lot while on the road. Come up with a couple new songs, stuff for our first album. We'll probably polish and record it when the tour's over."

"That's so exciting. Can't wait to hear it."

"Of course, you'll hear it before it comes out, so it'll be a little rough."

"Doesn't matter to me, just wanna hear it."

"You will, pretty girl. First one outside the band."

"What about your friends?"

"You think I'm gonna let those twerps hear the unfinished stuff so they can make fun of it? Nah, they'll get the finished product."

"That'd be mean of them."

"It's be good-natured but all the same. I don't wanna hear it. I only trust your critiques."

"What about like, producers and such?"

"Yeah, I guess I'll listen to them too."

"Probably a good idea."

"If you say so."

"I do."

"Alright. What have you been up to?"

"Just school and work. It's definitely getting colder up here. All the leaves are changing and you can crunch them when you walk. And I'm excited to watch Halloween movies."

"Oh, man, I love scary movies. What's your favorite?"

"Probably The Shining. Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall are so good in it."

"A+ choice, honey. Mine's Poltergeist."

"Ooh, that freaked me out when I saw it. Haven't rewatched it since."

"Aw. Maybe we can watch it together. That way you can cower behind me if you want."

"I'd love that, as long as you don't laugh at me."

"I'd never laugh at you, angel."

"Good. You're not allowed."

"Oh, is that a new law?"

"Yes, they just passed it. The 'Can't Laugh at the Girl You Like' Act."

"Fitting name. Could be shorter."

"Well, I could've used my name but then it wouldn't apply to everyone and it really should."

"I'll be sure to let everyone know about the new amendment."

"Please do. We need to get the word out."

"Gotta go, princess. The boys wanna talk about a new song. Jeff says he has this amazing idea."

"Okay, let me know if it's any good. Call me later, handsome."

"I will, pretty girl."

;

"Eddie?"

"Hi, angel. Sorry I didn't call yesterday. We were up all night designing the cover for our album and we were dead on our feet all day. I crashed right after the show, didn't even watch Monochrome's set."

"No worries. Guess what?"

"What?"

"I got A's on all my finals!"

"Wow, congrats, honey! Knew you would."

"You always say that, but you can't see the future, Eds."

"Maybe not, but I know you're good at what you do."

"Just like you. I hear the new single is selling out everywhere."

"Yeah! Ever since they played 'Think About You' on the radio, they're going like hotcakes. And audiences seem to know the lyrics to it, they sing along when we play it."

"That's awesome. It has to sound so good onstage."

"It does. Is this what famous bands hear all the time? Because I get why they'd be into it."

"Don't forget us little people when you skyrocket to the top of the charts."

"I couldn't forget you, sweetheart."

"Good, because there was another law passed about it. The 'Don't Forget Where You Came From' bill."

"Is that right? It's a good thing I have a good memory."

"Very, otherwise you'd be arrested in no time."

"What are you doing, angel?"

"Finally just relaxing. I'm going to be chill all break, I swore that to myself."

"You deserve it. You've worked so hard all semester."

"Thank you. Though I wish I could see you."

"Me too. This tour feels like it's going on forever. Don't get me wrong, it's amazing and I love it, but it's kind of a lot. I wish I could just be there and take you to the movies or something."

"That'd be nice. Would that be our first date?"

"Nah, our first date was the concert. This would be our second."

"I see. Where are you, anyways?"

"Dallas."

"Wow, y'all really went north and then immediately back down south?"

"I guess so."

"I'm not sure whoever put this schedule together knew what they were doing. Like how—"

"Hey, angel, I'm sorry but I gotta go. The boys are demanding we go out to celebrate and refusing to leave without me."

"Oh, okay. Well, have a drink on me, I'm proud of y'all."

"Thanks, sweetheart. Talk to you soon."

"Bye, Eds."

;

"Hello?"

"Hey, princess."

"Eddie? Are you okay? I haven't heard from you in a couple of weeks."

"Yeah, I know, we're fine. Everything's just been crazy since our single blew up. Now paparazzi are following us too and fans keep mobbing us at the merch table. We're thinking about just not doing that anymore."

"Wow, that's...cool. As long as y'all are safe."

"We are. Monochrome got more security for us now. I think they're a little upset we're getting so popular."

"Well, it is their tour, after all."

"Right, but we can't help it, you know? People like our stuff."

"Mhm."

"What are you doing?"

"Break ends in a week so I'm just getting everything ready for the spring semester. Also planning my birthday."

"Your birthday? When is it?"

"February 14th."

"Aw, you're a Valentine's baby?"

"Yeah, and I've never had a crush during it so I'm excited for this year."

"I'll be sure to call you, honey."

"Good. Um, are you gonna be calling less now? So I know."

"Possibly, not sure yet. It's a whirlwind over here."

"I bet. I'd just like to know so I don't plan for the calls anymore."

"I'll let you know ASAP, sweetheart."

"Thanks. So where are y'all?"

"Philly. We play New York tomorrow!"

"That's exciting."

"We've been waiting for it all trip. The set is gonna be electric."

"I hope so. Uh, Eddie?"

"One second, babe."

"Okay."

"Sorry about that. What's up?"

"Do you know what date you'll be back in Chicago?"

"I don't exactly know. Lemme get back to you on that too."

"Alright."

"Sorry to cut this short, doll, but I gotta run. Call you later."

"Bye—“

;

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby."

"Oh, hi, Eddie."

"How you doing?"

"Fine. How's the tour?"

"Amazing. Everyone loves us. We get mobbed just going to our hotel now. It's wild."

"Wow, that's crazy."

"I know."

"Where are you?"

"Boston."

"That's fun. I love Boston."

"Yeah, it's cool. Don't have much time for sightseeing."

"Ah."

"What are you up to?"

"School's been crazy, we just went in running apparently."

"Damn."

"Still planning my birthday. I'm gonna host a party, I think."

"That sucks."

"What?"

"Sorry, honey. That was directed at Grant. Birthday party, sounds fun."

"Yeah, you're still gonna call, right? Talk to my friends? They think I'm crazy and like, lying whenever I talk about you."

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll do that."

"Okay. You sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry."

"Alright."

"Gotta go, babe. See you."

"Okay—“

;

"Hello."

"Angel!"

"Eddie."

"Yeah, it's me!"

"Are you drunk?"

"Maybe a little. But how are you?"

"What?"

"I asked how you were!"

"You wanna know how I am, Eddie?"

"Uh, yeah, that's why I asked."

"Okay, here's how I am: You missed my birthday."

"No, I didn't! I'm calling you now!"

"It's 3am on February 15th, Eddie. My birthday is over."

"It's close enough!"

"You had a full twenty-four hours in which you could call me and you couldn't manage it. So no, it's not close enough."

"Wait, are you upset?"

"No, I'm just peachy."

"Good—"

"Of course I'm upset, Eddie!"

"Oh."

"Oh? That's all you have to say?"

"Uh..."

"Look, I know we're not dating or anything, and you don't owe me anything. But I was so excited for you to call. I told all my friends they'd be able to talk to you and then you stood me up. You know how embarrassing that is? On both your birthday and Valentine's Day and in front of all your friends who don't believe you? They gave me pitying looks all night. I couldn't bear it."

"I'm sorry—“

"Yeah, right. I really liked you, too."

"I like you too—“

"Oh, give it up, Eddie. I know Corroded Coffin is huge now because of your big single. All the magazines can talk about is when you're coming out with your debut album. You're bigger than little old me now, and I get it. I just feel like a fool for thinking this could be different."

"It is! It is different!"

"Is it? Tell me how."

"..."

"This is how I see it. You liked me when we were on the same level. You called me every other day because you thought you couldn't do better. And now, with your song at the top of the charts and people mobbing you all the time, you've realized you can do way better than me. Pretty, skinny blondies are throwing themselves at your feet now, right? Girls with perfect teeth and perfect skin and perfect bodies and perfectly plastic personalities, and you have your pick of the litter. So you stop calling me so you can hang out with them instead."

"No! Well, kinda—"

"That's what I thought. I'm hanging up now."

"Wait!"

"What?"

"I...I miss you."

"Eddie, do me a favor."

"Yeah?"

"Don't call me again."

;

"You've reached my voicemail. You know what to do!"

"Angel, it's me. Eddie. Will you pick up?"

"You've reached my voicemail. You know what to do!"

"It's Eddie again. Are you screening my calls? Can you answer so I can explain?"

"You've reached my voicemail. You know what to do!"

"Okay, you don't have to answer. I understand why you won't. I just wanted to say I'm really sorry. I should've called you on your actual birthday and I shouldn't have been drunk when I did it. I did really wanna talk to you and wish you a happy birthday, because you deserve it. I would've really liked talking with your friends too. You talked about them so much I feel like I know them already. I think I could've made them laugh—“

"You've reached my voicemail. You know what to do!"

"Wow, your voicemail time limit is short. Um, I'm sorry I stood you up and all your friends thought I was an asshole. I have been an asshole, I'll say that. I know I've been acting like one when we talk. Our calls have definitely been shorter lately, and I'm sorry for that. It's not that I didn't wanna talk to you, it's just been crazy here. That sounds like a lame excuse, but I barely have time to take a breath let alone do anything else—“

"You've reached my voicemail. You know what to do!"

"But I should've called and talked more. You're important to me and I still really like you. You were right, more fans have been coming up and weirdly propositioning us, but I don't want any of them, I swear. They can barely hold a conversation, and all I can think about is talking on the phone with you for hours, never running out of things to discuss. And I love all our inside jokes, like the new laws and talking about this weird schedule—"

"You've reached my voicemail. You know what to do!"

"I just wanna talk to you all the time. And I miss you a lot. I still wish you were here with us, and not just because boys are pigs. I wish I could kiss you. I lie in bed awake at night, regretting not kissing you the night we met. I wanna see your smile again, and hear your laugh. I wanna take you to the movies, sweetheart, and protect you if anything is too scary. And I wish I could hug you like all the time. Shit, I'm running out of time—“

"You've reached my voicemail. You know what to do!"

"This is the last one, I swear. I'm so, so sorry, angel. Will you please pick up so I can keep pleading my case?"

"Hi. I’m probably home. I’m just avoiding someone I don’t like. Leave me a message, and if I don’t call back, it’s you."

"Hi, sweetheart. Nice new greeting. I know you don't like me right now, and I know you're still screening my calls, but I like hearing your voice. I miss talking to you so much. We're in Toronto tonight. The boys and I didn't know we had to have passports for Canada so management had to work overtime to get us some. They're not fans of us right now, but they got it done. I'm not my biggest fan right now either. I'm sorry again. I miss you."

"Hi. I’m probably home. I’m just avoiding someone I don’t like. Leave me a message, and if I don’t call back, it’s you."

"Hey, angel. The tour's almost over, last show tomorrow in Indianapolis. It's really close to my hometown and I'm not loving it. All my friends and family have moved out of town so there's nothing left there for me, just bad memories. I really wish you were here with me. I'd tell you all about it so I'm not the only one holding them anymore. Not that I want to give you the burden too, but so you could be closer to me. I miss you tons."

"Hi. I’m probably home. I’m just avoiding someone I don’t like. Leave me a message, and if I don’t call back, it’s you."

"Princess, the tour is officially over. I'd love to say I'm coming home, but management is flying us out to L.A. to record our album. I don't know why we can't just do it in Chicago, but it's not up to me. L.A. freaks me out. Famous people are so weird and no one has anything behind their eyes. I wish I could see your face, you're so beautiful to look at. I can always see the gears turning in your head. I always want to know what you're thinking."

"Hi. I’m probably home. I’m just avoiding someone I don’t like. Leave me a message, and if I don’t call back, it’s you."

"Honey, this whole process is a nightmare. Everyone is so up our asses to get this done when we told them we weren't ready. I wanted to come home and play these songs for you, if you'd hear them, and keep workshopping. Now it just sounds unfinished. I'm not sure what to do. I wish I could talk to you. You always have the best solutions. Maybe they'd pass a law for it. The 'Don't Pressure Your Band' Act. But I'd bet you'd have a better name for it."

"Hi. I’m probably home. I’m just avoiding someone I don’t like. Leave me a message, and if I don’t call back, it’s you."

"The album is done, sweetheart, and it's shit. They pushed us too much and it sounds terrible. We heard the final cut and refused to let them release it, demanding that they let us take a break and then come back to fix it. Our new agent is a real bulldog, and she scared them into accepting. Plus, I have a song I've been thinking about that I wanna add. I hope you're doing okay and midterms went well. I know you aced them. Miss you like crazy."

"Hi. I’m probably home. I’m just avoiding someone I don’t like. Leave me a message, and if I don’t call back, it’s you."

"Angel, this is a warning. God, that sounded bad. I just wanted to let you know that we have a single coming out next week and it's about you. It's all good, I swear, but so you're not blindsided. We fixed the album and added this song, and the studio loved it so much they made it an immediate single, which is a nice feeling, I guess. All I hope is that you'll listen to it and give it a try. Give me another try. I probably don't deserve it but I'll do anything."

"Hi. Now you say something."

"New greeting, that's promising. I hope you liked the single, pretty girl. I meant every word of it. I miss you so much it's nuts. Life is so boring without you in it. Our album comes out in a few days. They're throwing this big release party but I'm not excited. If you're not gonna be there in a gorgeous dress, making fun of all the rich people with me, what's the point? I hope you're kicking ass on all your assignments. Miss you."

"Hi. Now you say something."

"Hey, angel. Party went okay. I left early. I hear sales are doing well, but I don't really care about them. I'm just sitting in this hotel room wishing you were here with me. I miss you so much. Do you think about me as much as I think about you? I can only hope so. I'm sorry for everything."

"Hi. Now you say something."

"Alright, sweetheart. I can take a hint. This will be my last voicemail. I just wanted to let you know that we're coming home tomorrow. I cannot wait to be back in Chicago. And even if you never talk to me again, I know I'll feel better just being in the same city as you. I hope you ace your finals, because I know you will. Have a great summer, angel. Do you remember when we used to write H.A.G.S. in our yearbooks as shorthand for that—Hello?"

"Hi, Eddie."

;

There’s a knock on the door. You stare at it for a few seconds, and then take a deep breath and open it. On the other side is Eddie Munson.

His hair is different. Still long, but with a more flattering cut, and you can see his pretty brown eyes now. He looks mostly the same otherwise, besides the bags under his eyes and worn-out and exhausted expression. You feel a pang. All that shit he went through in L.A. obviously took its toll.

His gaze roves over you like he can’t get enough. “Hey, angel,” he breathes reverently, like you’re actually angelic.

“Hi, Eds.” You step out of the way and gesture for him to come in. He walks inside, stopping and shifting nervously in the small space. You close the door and turn to face him.

You can tell he’s itching to explore but he keeps his attention on you. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

You bob your head. “Get here okay?”

“Yeah, no fans or reporters in sight.” He sounds relieved by the statement.

“Leave it to your hometown to remind you that you aren’t special.”

He exhales a small laugh. “For sure.”

“You need something to drink?”

He shakes his head. “Just wanna talk to you.”

“Okay.” You bring him into your room and shut that door as well. You sit on your bed and look at him expectantly.

He’s looking around your room in interest, but remembers his goal pretty quickly. He sits next to you. “How have you been?”

“Good. Got mostly A’s and one B on my finals. Picking up more shifts at work now that it’s summer.”

“That’s awesome. I always knew you’d do well on them.”

You smile a little. He did.

He takes a deep breath. “Princess, I’m really sorry for my behavior this past year. I took you for granted and I shouldn’t have, it wasn’t right. Not to sound cliché but the fame went to my head a little. Growing up in a small town where everybody hates you and thinks you’re a freak doesn’t prepare you for a lot of attention on you. It was nice in the spotlight for a while, until I realized I was losing myself, not to mention you. You gave me a wake-up call, sweetheart, one I really needed, and I thank you for that. You brought me back down to earth.

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I’m sorry your friends think you’re crazy for saying we know each other. I’m sorry for acting like a douchebag on the phone near the end there. I’m sorry I didn’t spend enough time talking with you. I’m sorry I didn’t consider your feelings.

“I wish I could go back and do so many things over. I’d kiss you that night at the first concert. I’d take a picture of you and keep it in my guitar case. I’d beg you to come on tour with us. But I can’t turn back time, so all I can say is that I never want to hurt you like that again and I promise to try not to. I can’t promise I won't because it’s impossible, but I want you to know I’m going to work really hard to prevent it. If you give me another chance.

“I missed you so much this whole time. I felt like I was going crazy when I couldn’t talk to you. It didn’t feel like anything mattered if you weren’t there to enjoy it with me. I’m not trying to guilt-trip you or anything. Honestly, the world was just duller when you weren’t in it. You brighten everything up, honey. I hope I can brighten things for you again.”

You sit with his words for a while, long enough that he starts fidgeting nervously next to you. When you feel like responding, you say, “Thank you for the voicemails.”

There’s surprise on his face when you look at him. “Um, you’re welcome, angel. I felt like I had to keep talking to you.”

“I’m glad.” To your mild horror, the words catch in your throat and tears start to threaten to fall. Eddie can tell and tentatively grabs your hand. You gaze at him, vision getting blurry. “I missed you too.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, and pulls you forward. You bury your face in his chest, relishing in the smell of his body wash and cigarettes and faint thread of weed. You cry against him, tears and snot soaking into his shirt, but he doesn’t move away, just cups the back of your head sweetly. “I’m sorry. Honey, I’m so sorry.”

You keep going until you’re all cried out, sniffling and wiping your face in embarrassment. But when you look at him, he’s smiling kindly, no judgement in his expression. “Will you kiss me now?” You ask wetly, feeling like it’s way overdue and the only thing you want to happen right now.

“Absolutely,” he murmurs. He holds your face in his hands like you’re precious, and leans forward slowly until your lips finally touch. It’s light and chaste, but it’s also warm and soft, and it feels right. When he breaks away, he looks at you like you saved his life (and maybe you did). “Wow.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, definitely feeling what he’s feeling. “We should’ve done that ages ago.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” he replies and you laugh. “And now I’m gonna have a hard time not doing it.”

“Well, you can do it whenever you want by my account.”

He lights up. “That means we’re okay? We can start up again?”

“You think I’d let you kiss me if we weren’t?” He chuckles at your expression.

“Maybe you were just trying it out. Seeing if it was worth it,” he says.

“Hm,” you feign thinking about it and he knocks his shoulder into yours. You grin. “I think it is.”

“Good.” And with that, he kisses you again.

When you part, you’re laying on the bed together, you resting on his chest while he rubs your back. “I’m sorry L.A. was shit,” you murmur, tracing the designs on his shirt with your fingers.

He hums. “Yeah. I’m sure it’s like, a rite of passage for bands to go through something like that.”

“Doesn’t mean you should’ve.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Maybe they should make a new law about it.”

“The ‘Leave New Bands Alone’ bill.”

“Exactly. Told you you’d come up with a better name than me.”

You snort. “Can’t say that’s better but it’s certainly another option.”

“So, angel, what’s the plan for summer?”

“You tell me. All I’ve got going on is work.”

“Well, management wants to send us on another tour for our album, but we negotiated that we need the summer off. Apparently sales are doing so well that they don’t mind.”

“Then it seems you have a completely free summer.”

“From work, sure. But I have a lot of dates to make up for.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, with this girl I really like. Her kisses make me feel like I’m on cloud nine.”

“She sounds great.”

“She is. Actually, she’s pretty fantastic.”

You smile as he lifts your chin gently and kisses you again.

;

“Hello?”

“Hi, Eds.”

“Angel! Are you finally here?”

“Yeah. I still can't believe you flew me out here. First class was too much. And this hotel room is super nice.”

“I know, right? Only the best for my girl.”

“I know you didn’t book this, babe.”

“You don’t know if I demanded the best of the best because my amazing girlfriend is gonna be visiting me a lot.”

“I guess I don’t but I seriously doubt it.”

“Well, I guess we’ll never know. All settled in?”

“Yup. Plus, I wore your shirt so free publicity."

"What would we do without you?"

"Perish, I guess. Are y’all gonna be done soon? I’m starving.”

“Soon, baby. Sound check just finished and we’re packing up now. Should be there in the next fifteen. Is it cool if Carly comes along?”

“Of course! I'm so glad you picked her as your opener, she's so good."

"She's better than another pack of dudes, that's for sure. And she's so nice."

"I know, I love her."

"More than me?"

"Obviously not, but don't tell her. I can’t wait to see you.”

“You too, beautiful. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you more.”

“Impossible.”

“It’s very possible. They actually just passed a law about it. The ‘Your Girlfriend Missed You More Than You Missed Her’ Act.”

“Is that so? Well, I heard they passed another new law, the ‘Your Boyfriend Loves You More Than You Love Him’ bill."

“Damn, I gotta work on getting them to repeal that, because if they don’t I’m going away for a long time.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll protect you.”

“Good. Speaking of which, we gotta watch some Halloween movies this weekend.”

“Totally down for that. Ready for that Poltergeist rewatch with me?”

“Why did you think I segued from you protecting me to scary movies?”

“Duh, stupid of me, honey.”

“It’s alright, my love. We’ll work on that.”

“Wow, you’re so good to me.”

“I only give what I get, baby.”

“Ugh, I can’t wait to kiss you.”

“Me too. I also can’t wait for you to kiss me.”

“You’re gonna get so many kisses, angel, the band’s gonna hate us.”

“Good thing they have a separate room.”

“Bold of you to think I’ll stop kissing you when we’re out of the room.”

“I wouldn’t mind being a tabloid cover if it’s headlined ‘Rockstar Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin goes in heavy on the PDA with hometown girlfriend’.”

“How do you come up with all these good lines?”

“I don’t know, it’s a gift.”

“Well, you are gifted, baby. Hey, we’re all packed up and heading out now. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay! Just hurry or I might fall asleep on this plush bed.”

“That won’t stop me from kissing all over your face.”

“Oh, good, then.”

“Okay, the boys are fake-gagging at me for that last line.”

“They’re just jealous.”

“You’re telling me. I’m gonna hang up now, okay? Can’t wait to see you, angel. I love you.”

“Me either, baby. Love you.”

[thethistlegirlwrites]

Reunions

“I’m gonna scare them,” Joey says, fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt.

“No you’re not. They’ve seen your fangs on the video calls.”

“I don’t move right anymore. I’m cold.” She looks up at him. “They’ve seen too many dead people already.”

“Yeah, and they got you back.” Nico folds a hand over hers. “You’ve been doin’ all this so you can see them face to face. So you can hold them. And you’ve been doin’ great.”

She shakes her head. “This isn’t…this isn’t like I’m some kind of addict who lost custody. I didn’t do something bad. I am something bad.”

“How many times do I hafta tell ya, Joey. You’re just a vampire. You decide what kinda one you are.” He grins lopsidedly. “Besides, if that’s what you are, what does that make me?”

“Oh. Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“No hurt feelings here. We’re people, Joey. Messy and full of all kinda contradictions. We all gotta live with it.”

“Well, you know, we’re not actually living.”

“That’s the spirit. Now get in there before we run outta visiting hours.” He pats her shoulder. 

Joey smiles at him and then steps through the door, and is instantly tackled by a petite girl with pink ends on her braids. 

“Hola, mi rayo del sol.” Joey wraps her arms tentatively around the girl, pressing her lips to her head before looking up at a curly-haired boy who’s all awkward gangly limbs. “Y mi tortuga.”

“Todavía eres horrible,” The boy says, but wraps his arms around both of them, and the door closes with a hiss of the seal locking it down.

Nico turns away from the glass. He’s supposed to be supervising the visit, but he can still do that and make a phone call too. Their hunter liaison is in the room, even if right now he’s talking to the aunt about something to do with the tattoos spiraling up his right arm.

The number he dials rings through to a voicemail. 

“You’ve reached Ricky Pontevecchio. I’m probably in class or on a dive. Leave your name and number and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

The voicemail box is never full.

Nico doesn’t know if that’s because Ricky is listening to his messages, or deleting them outright as soon as he sees who left them.

“Hey Ricky, it’s me. Again. Just wanted to check in, see how things are going. Sounds like you’re doing field work now. The dives out here have gotta be cool, right? Way better than that nasty beach at Coney Island you wanted to go to every year for your birthday.” He looks back through the glass. Olivia is showing Joey her dyed hair, and Mauricio is pulling sketches out of a flat sort of briefcase, all bright colors and sharp edges and huge-eyed characters.

Joey is squashed in between the two of them, smiling and laughing, un-self-conscious about the teeth.

He was right, she just needed to get in there, and she forgot everything she was worried about as soon as those kids accepted her for who she is now.

They’re doing just fine.

“I’d love to hear all about it sometime, if you wanna talk. It’s still 310-555-2876. I’ve got the phone on me at work, and I’m the boss, so I can always pick up and talk to ya. And I’m a light sleeper so don’t worry about wakin’ me up calling during the day, okay?” 

There’s a thud from inside the room, and he whips back to the window. Everyone’s laughing, and Mauricio is holding Joey’s hand up like a wrestling match winner, shaking his other hand out.

He flicks the switch on the wall to bring the intercom online, and hears just enough to realize that Joey just won her first arm wrestling match with Mauricio in four years. 

He turns it off again. 

“Ricky, I just wanna hear how you’re doing. Don’t even wanna see you, if that’s not what you want.” He leans on the wall, sniffing in a breath and wiping the back of his hand over his eyes. “I swear to God,” he coughs when the word burns his throat, “all I want is to know you’re okay. I never shoulda hurt you, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, kiddo.” He swallows. “I know why you hate me. I wish I’d never given you a reason to. But I’d like to give you a reason to trust me again, if you wanna…”

The message system screeches in his ear, telling him he’s run out of time. That he can press pound to start the message again or hang up to save it.

He snaps the phone shut and leans on the wall.

His elbow must have hit the intercom, because he can hear Joey singing softly, Mauricio joining in slightly off key, Olivia humming along. 

He looks up just enough to see the time on his watch. There’s twenty-three minutes of visiting hours left. 

He can get himself together before Joey comes back. With any luck, she’ll be so excited the visit went well that she won’t notice if he’s not looking right at her or if his eyes are a little too shiny. He can keep her talking about her family and she won’t hear enough of his voice to notice it’s choked and shuddery.

He turns around, slides down the wall, rests his head in his hands, and lets himself cry.

He can help Joey get her family back. He’s helped two other vampires do the same. He’s good at it. Knows what they need to hear when, how to personalize the ways they learn to control their hunger and instincts. He all but promises them that when they’re done in the mentor program, the people they love most will be permanent, stable parts of their lives. That they’ll have the closest thing to a normal family a vampire will ever get. 

But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t put his own back together.

(You can read this story and more from this universe on my WorldAnvil here!)

@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies  @writeouswriter @whump-place

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Coffee Shop AU (2) Masterlist

part one

all i want (ao3) - lourrygum michael/luke, calum/ashton E, 15k

Summary: Luke is a camboy and Michael has to have normal conversations with him like he didn't watch him come untouched just last night

Or, Lush isn't Luke's only place of employment, Calum is falling in love with the curly haired dork that comes in to his coffee shop on a daily basis and Michael's going to stop watching Luke's videos soon, he swears.

All I Want For Christmas (Is You) (ao3) - onceuponatime michael/luke E, 11k

Summary: “The little bell clings above the door when he pushes it open, and he stamps his feet on the welcome mat to rid any clumps of snow that may have stuck to his shoes. The place is completely empty, not even anyone behind the counter, and he wonders for a second if they’re even open when there’s a small crash and a ‘fuck’ from somewhere in the back.

Michael chuckles to himself and unzips his jacket. He knows the cause of that racket. “You okay back there?” he shouts, leaning over the counter to try and see into the storage room.”

and the backs of my eyes hum with things I've never done (ao3) - lucasfletcher luke/ashton N/R, 2k

Summary: “You butthole,” says Michael, when Luke tells him what happened, as they flip through the channels of their floor's common room’s TV. He slaps the back of his head for good measure. Luke returns it with a punch to Michael’s noodle arm.

“Just learn how to talk to people, it’s not that hard,” he says after a minute, and receives another punch.

“I know how to talk to people,” murmurs Luke into a pillow he’s clutching to his chest, and definitely doesn’t think about the way Ashton’s eyes shined behind his black framed glasses.

Coffee Boy (ao3) - Jay_isnotokay michael/calum, luke/ashton M, 12k

Summary: Calum Hood has a crush on a barista, plenty of coffee making ensues.

Down to Business (ao3) - defnotbri (orphan_account) luke/ashton N/R, 1k

Summary: “Hey, don’t stress. We can figure everything out over a cup of coffee.”

“Define everything. My failing Starbucks, the mess I call life, or whatever the fuck happened last night?”

i know i don’t know you (but i’d like to skip the small talk and romance) (ao3) - bellawritess calum/ashton, michael/luke T, 10k

Summary: “Hi,” says the bloke behind the register. Calum drops his gaze and finds himself unable to look away. The barista looks around college age, maybe a year or two older than Calum, built enough that the short sleeves of his t-shirt are hugging frankly impressive biceps. Golden-brown curls fall messily over his forehead, and there’s an easy smile on his lips as he awaits Calum’s order. Calum’s not sure he’s ever seen anyone more attractive. “What can I get for you today?”

“Uh,” Calum says, feeling flustered and taken aback. “A, uh, pumpkin spice latte?”

I’m Going Blind from this Sweet Craving (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds luke/calum, michael/ashton T, 6k

Summary: “Bye, Luke,” Calum says. “Maybe see you tomorrow, and… Hope you have a great day too.” His face breaks out into a wider smile that reminds Luke of the feeling of getting just the right consistency for macaron batter, or a perfectly smooth finish on a cake, or the way good puff pastry flakes into the perfect fragments when you cut through a mille-feuille. Or something.

-

A bakery au

It’s Such a Shame That We Play Strangers (ao3) - velvethood (orphan_account) michael/calum/ashton T, 14k

Summary: “Well, when my favourite customer disappears I’m going to be worried.” Ashton reiterates, hands Michael his drink and a plate full of three types of cake like he knew Michael was coming. “You have a lot of food to catch up on. I’ve been on the cake wagon lately, haven’t I Cal?”

This is the first time Ashton’s addressed Calum in front of him which isn’t surprising because they’ve never been in this situation before, but Michael’s unsure of what to do with himself. They haven’t even been introduced each other.

like a bursting sunrise (ao3) - bellawritess luke/calum T, 2k

Summary: Luke holds out his free hand, and Calum shakes it. Of course his hands are exactly as soft as they look. Calum starts to resent the limitations of visual art. How is he meant to convey the soft hands, the twinkling eyes, the deep and mellifluous laugh? With an HB pencil?

“I’m gonna go make your coffee,” says Luke, and with that he walks away. Calum watches him go and resents the fact that drawing Luke’s face means he can’t draw Luke’s back. Art is highly overrated.

(Or: Calum’s an artist, Luke’s a barista, you know the drill.)

lowercases and capitals (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum T, 10k

Summary: “Fuck, Luke, two minutes ago you were whining about Ashton not flirting with you enough, and now you’re making eyes at the barista.” Michael laughs a little as he says it, shaking his head in that special way he has that means he’s surprised at how unsurprised he is by Luke. It’s the same way he shakes his head when he catches Luke dumping powdered sugar on orange slices, or settling in to watch 10 Things I Hate About You for the hundredth time.

“I can find two different guys desirable at the same time,” Luke replies defensively. What’s the point of college, anyway, if you can’t enjoy the fact that you can bump into a different hot guy around every corner?

melting in the snow (ao3) - toddamyanderson luke/calum T, 5k

Summary: The cute barista is working at the coffee shop.

This isn’t a rare occurrence, but the circumstances are rare, because it’s snowing and Calum is cold and he’s not on his way to work this morning.

Oh, You Make Me Complete (ao3) - DearDevotedDelicate luke/ashton N/R, 2k

Summary: Luke Hemmings is a solo artist who needs to find inspiration for his new project, he also needs a love life. A little-known cafe is the perfect spot for his dreams to come true.

Specials Board (ao3) - fluffyhair luke/ashton G, 405

Summary: Luke is a barista at a coffee shop that Ashton frequently visits. Ever so clever Luke decides to try something with the help of the specials of the day board.

Twice As Much Isn't Twice As Good (ao3) - FayeHunter michael/ashton T, 1k

Summary: Michael's pretty sure this much coffee can't be good for the cute law student coming into the coffee shop

without you i'm a lost boy (ao3) - rocketshiptospace luke/ashton T, 9k

Summary: the modern day peterpan/coffee shop au no one really asked for

[worldwidewizardingweb]

The Post (draft 1, pt 1)

It was March 25th, two weeks after Cyrus Sinclair’s 11th birthday and he was waiting anxiously at the breakfast table as he did every morning since. The room was filled with the savory smells of breakfast, all thanks to Winnifred Sinclair, though only three of the six chairs were occupied.

“Has the post come?” He asked for the umpteenth time, fork tapping at the aging wood, not even bothering with his eggs.

“Not yet Cy, don’t worry it’ll come.” A woman with curly auburn hair reassured the boy, she affectionately ruffled his hair, which he took after his mother. The unruly mass of curly hair, large and unkempt after a night’s sleep, seemed to never sit quietly despite years of trying. 

“Sure it will, you’ve been showing signs since you were three.” His older brother Noah grinned, patting at the younger’s back. Noah, though years younger, looked nearly identical to the man who was sitting directly across from Cyrus, and was busy reading the newspaper. They both sported rimmed glasses that smartly finished their appearances, light brown straight hair neatly combed back. Noah was four years older than his brother but seemed much more mature, but he had always been like this since Cyrus could remember. 

“But what if it got lost?” His appetite seemed to have deserted him and he pushed the plate away from him with great distaste. His mother smiled softly and slid the plate back towards him. 

“Dumbledore’s a smart man, it wouldn't have gotten lost.” 

As if on cue, Felix, the family owl, flew through the kitchen window, a small white letter landing promptly in Cyrus’ open hands. 

“See, smart man, that Dumbledore.” Cyrus’ father smiled warmly at him, sounds of newspaper ruffling loudly as he set it down, “But I’d best be going, the Daily Prophet isn’t going to write itself, is it now?”

“Oh Eddie, don’t forget your lunch. Your mother has been pestering me about keeping you fed, honestly it’s as if that woman thinks I’m starving you.” She eyed his slightly rounding middle with contentment. “For Merlin’s sake, you could do with losing a few pounds.”

“Winnie, you’re a peach.” Her husband grinned, kissing her cheek quickly before grabbing the sack and hurrying out the back door, where he promptly disapparated. 

“Mum, have you seen my robes? I’ve been looking all over for them, I think I’ve lost another pair. I swear if Ev is– oh! Your letter’s come? Well, go on, open it.” A voice carried down the stairs, loud stomps echoing through the small room. A girl with long hair down to her waist stopped short as she stared at the youngest boy of the family.

Though a foot shorter, a carbon copy of her sister followed behind, green eyes peeking enviously at the paper held tight in Cy’s grip.

With shaky fingers Cyrus tore the envelope at the red seal and pulled the parchment out. 

“Oh wonderful, they’ve attached the list of supplies have they? Well, we’ve got plenty of time to get it all, I suppose we’ll have to make a trip to Diagon Alley.”

Tatum lifted her head at this, pausing for only a moment before sliding into the chair her father had just vacated, “Mum, can I go as well? I might be needing new robes, and I wanted to have a look at the Nimbus 2000. I heard it’s the fastest yet.”

A snort came from across Cyrus, Noah wasn’t trying too hard to hold back the smile on his face. “What do you want with a Nimbus 2000? You don’t even play Quidditch.”

“Well, I was thinking I might try for team–”

“For the team? Oh that’s right you’ve got a thing for the Hufflepuff seeker, don’t you?”

“Shush Noah.”

“Cedric Diggory isn’t it? Of course all the girls fawning over him, why wouldn’t you?”

“Stop it Noah.” But Tatum was blushing fiercely at the mention of Cedric, a dead giveaway. “I only thought I’d give it a try.”

Noah grinned at her as if he was going to say more, but then thought the better of it. “Actually mum, I think I’d better go as well, I heard Weatherby’s come out with a new edition of Professor Dippet’s memoir. I’d like to get a headstart on it, I just know that Professor Binns is going to require it. They were friends, did you know?”

“Certainly, why don’t we make a trip out of it? We’ll stop by Gringotts before we pick out Cy’s robes and we’ll make everyone’s stops.”

“Can I get my wand then?”

“Of course, we’ll swing by Ollivander’s.”

“Mum?”

“Yes Ev, you’re coming.”

Evangeline’s face lit up with excitement at the idea of going to Diagon Alley, it just meant that she was one step closer to Hogwarts.

©Copyright 2024. World Wide Wizarding Web. All rights reserved.

[arjaandsimoni]

McSpooky

Nelen sat in the Wulfshead Club, staring at his phone.

“… are they joking?” he muttered, tilting his head slowly.

“I dunnae cous, but it sure sounds desperate.” nodded Loren.

“… its just… I just got Scooby Doo’d, I know they watch the BBS like a hawk after someone gets one of those.” he said, re-reading the listing again.

Loren shrugged, “I’ve already taken on ah job or else I’d be lookin’ inta this ‘un. Th’ reward is peanuts, but… aye, its got me interest.” she nodded, “ ‘parently th’ manager is really losin’ ‘er shite over it.”

“Its… its just so damn silly though…” he re-read it for the fifth time, making a face.

Dawn padded back over, carrying a fresh cup of cream, taking a seat, “Ooooh, we find a fun one?” she grinned, then looked at the phone, then she snorted in surprise, “… what.” she raised her eyebrow.

“… a McFlurry machine in Provo, Utah is apparently haunted. Three of their patrons got possessed and Ronald McDonald fled from the building with blood coming out of his eyes, screaming in Aramaic.” he read again. The attached picture showed a five-year-old kid climbing along the ceiling spewing green with his head facing entirely the wrong way.

“Man, the Hamburgler is REALLY upping his game…” nodded Dawn.

Nelen looked it over again, then his thumb tapped the ‘accept’ button at the bottom of the listing as he finished off his coke, waiting for Dawn to drink her cream, “Fuck it… I just gotta know…”

Provo Utah, the Next Day

The McDonald’s was currently closed ‘for repairs and maintenance,’ Nelen could only assume that someone had greased a lot of palms to ensure that sign didn’t say ‘by order of the board of health’ instead.

Standing before him was the manager, a heavyset woman in her 40s, currently in just a teeshirt and jeans. She had long curly hair down to her elbows and looked rather upset to say the least. “I’d never seen anything like it in my life! I thought I was gonna get sick! That poor Thompson kid was cursing a blue streak whenever he wasn’t puking up pea soup everywhere! His parents threatened a lawsuit and everything!” she wailed, tugging at her hair, “Corporate is threatening to shut down the store now and I can’t be out of a job, nobody else around here is hiring!” she shook her head frantically.

Nelen nodded, “Yeah… I can imagine. Having Little Timmy turn into Reagan from the Exorcist tends to put people off finishing their McNuggets.” he replied, looking over the McFlurry machine, examining it top to bottom, then standing up, taking a cup, and pouring himself some.

He looked closely at it and saw the ice cream swirling before him to make out a skull like grimace. At the edge of their hearing was a faint ‘it huuuuuurts’ that seemed to echo on the wind.

“Yeeeeeup, that’s a ghost alright.” he nodded, taking it to the sink and chucking it in, then running the hot water. The lost soul screamed as it vanished down the drain with the vanilla ice cream. “But how the hells did it get in there?” he muttered, then looked over at her, “There a graveyard near here? The fences should be sanctified but I swear nobody does proper maintenance anymore.”

The manager shook her head, “Nope! Closest one is halfway across town!”

Nelen frowned, “Hmm… maybe somewhere that people die at… is there a hospital maybe? Hospice? Anything?” he asked.

She thought, then nodded, “Yeah actually! Utah Valley is just a few streets over!” she said, “You don’t think they’ve got something to do with this somehow?”

Nelen shrugged, “It’s a starting point if anything. Ghosts have to come from somewhere and if this thing is still haunted then that means there’s a steady flow. I’ll have to check out their morgue.” he nodded.

“… uh… I don’t think they’ll let just anyone in there…” she said.

Nelen smirked, Dawn grinning around a mouthful of pilfered Fillet o Fish. “Don’t worry about it.”

Utah Valley Hospital Morgue, around one in the morning

Nelen and Dawn crept around the corner, the guard who had been standing watch currently running back up the halls chasing after winged lottery tickets as Dawn put her sunglasses back in place. “Since when do we care if we’re let in?” she grinned, twirling his key-ring on her finger, the Cheshire having pilfered it when she zapped him in the eyes.

“Lets just hurry before it wears off.” said Nelen as he walked into the room, looking around. Dead bodies, freezers, and a cremation oven, as well as autopsy tools. Standard kit for most hospitals these days.

As they examined the room he paused, noticing one of the doors where they put the bodies was rattling. He walked over to it and read the tag, then sighed and walked to a nearby fridge.

Nelen took out a medical bag full of blood, then walked back to the door and opened it, yanked the bed out, and stuffed the blood bag over the face of the body inside.

There was a sound like bubble wrap being popped, then the bag slowly emptied. A minute later the corpse sat up and pulled it off its mouth. It was a young woman, currently naked (because why waste clothes on a corpse,) and looking rather embarrassed. “Um…” she mumbled, looking around worriedly.

“Door is that way, they leave the personal effects across the hall usually. Tell whoever your sire is to keep better damn track of where he leaves people when he tries to turn them.” he sighed.

“… t-thanks.” blushed the newly risen vampire, getting up and quickly scurrying out of the room.

Nelen shook his head, “You think vampires would be more careful around Mormon Country.” he muttered, taking out an object on a string from his bag and holding it out.

Dawn shrugged at him, “Maybe ‘magic underpants’ don’t hurt them so much?” she suggested, looking at what Nelen was holding.

The object in question was a small glass vial on it, and inside that was a mostly melted McFlurry from the same machine. “Alright… lets see…” he nodded, watching it swirl infront of him, then point… he walked across the room only for it to point the other way. He paused, confused, then walked back, then back again, then back again, then finally looked down and sighed.

Under his feet was a manhole cover built right into the floor of the morgue, “Shit. We gotta go into the sewers again.” he sighed, putting the object back in his bag, then fishing out a crowbar.

He knelt down, jamming it into the manhole cover, then with a loud grunt pried it free in one go. Leverage was an issue, but a Fullmoon was strong enough to do a lot of stuff already. Dawn grinned and vanished down the hole, Nelen following her down the ladder.

This sewer was a lot less nice than the one he’d chased the fake ghost through, the warlock gagging at the smell. “Ugh…” he waved his hand infront of his face as Dawn whined, covering her nose with her shirt as her tail floofed out.

There was still a narrow passage along the sides of the tunnels, but there was plenty of worrying stuff flowing under it. He took out a flashlight and looked around, then tapped Dawn’s shoulder and pointed at a wall.

Drawn on it in what looked like chalk was a complex pentagram with two focal points, an arrow leading inwards from the morgue above, and an arrow pointing outwards down the tunnels. They nodded at each other, then set off through the sewers.

Every few tunnels they found another pentagram, and each time it was the same theme, arrow pointing in, arrow pointing out. Eventually however…

Nelen paused infront of a pentagram on a wall, pointing to it. There was a damaged water line above it and part of the top had washed away.

Dawn looked at it, “Huh… hey Nelen? Are we…” she asked.

He nodded, holding out his phone. Google maps was open. “Yep. We’re directly underneath that McDonald’s.” he replied, “Looks like the haunting was an accident.”

She nodded, looking down where the arrow was pointing. “Circle sprung a leak, but where does this go then?” she asked.

Nelen shrugged, then jerked his head down the tunnels, “Lets find out.” he grunted.

They continued on for quite a ways, heading in what seemed to be a northeasterly direction, and eventually the pentagram had an arrow pointing upwards, leading to what looked like a self-installed ladder… Nelen looked at his phone, raising an eyebrow, “We’re under a residential area. That’s someone's house above us.” he said, “Be ready Dawn, there could be anything up there.” he warned, the Cheshire nodding.

He climbed the ladder, the cat turning invisible and making her own way up next to him, then he slowly and carefully lifted the manhole cover and looked around.

Standing nearby was what looked like a complex distillery, a funnel set in the ceiling right above where Nelen was standing, and inside of several cases along the wall were a series of wine bottles, each one swirling with what looked like wine… mixed with a trapped soul, the liquid swirling to make out facial features. “Huh…” he whispered, “Bottled ‘spirits.’ But who’s the brewer?” he muttered… then he heard a loud creaking sound, and a huge shape waddled into the room.

“Damn thing isn’t working right! That last batch barely even gave me a buzz!” snarled the newcomer, and Nelen’s eyebrows went up as Dawn hissed next to him.

The newcomer had to disguise themselves normally, he’d bet money on that. They were a huge woman, pushing past morbidly obese all the way to absurdly obese. They shouldn’t even be able to walk at that weight, except they clearly weren’t human.

Shining green skin like copper that had tarnished horribly, massive crimson lips on a frog like mouth, and goat-like horns curling from their head, peeking out of curling hair like spun gold. Their eyes were like a frog’s too, glowing a venomous purple.

"… hey I know them! That’s Igniz!" whispered Merihim in Nelen’s head.

Nelen blinked, whispering under his breath, “Shit, that’s a demon?” he asked.

"Yeah, but they’re low tier. The weaker ones can leave more or less when they want, we let them up to cause mischief and tempt people into summoning the rest of us. She’s one of Beelzebub’s, Gluttony demon." he whispered back.

Nelen’s eyes widened, “Son of a bitch, this is her private wine cellar… she’s stealing those souls to brew them into booze…” he muttered.

Dawn glanced back, “Um… do we really wanna risk pissing off Hell? What if she rats us out to Al?” she asked, her tail swishing anxiously.

"Nah, she’s too low level. Al wouldn’t even give her an audience. She’s no slouch though. She knows enough magic to do some damage and watch out for her tongue." said Merihim.

Nelen blinked, “Her tongue?” he asked as Dawn gave an annoyed hiss. She couldn’t hear Merhim.

"Yeah, lets put it this way, she doesn’t just LOOK like a big ass frog." chuckled the Wrath demon.

Nelen watched for her back to be turned, reaching into his bag, then suddenly jumped out and tossed a pouch at her back, the same ghost-busting trick he’d tried on Walking Sam and the fake ghost. It had blessed silver and candle wax from a church in it after all.

Igniz yelped and clutched at their head as an angry welt quickly formed, then the demoness turned and glared behind her.

Nelen stood, still frozen in the motion from pitching. The attack had hurt the demoness, but apparently it only pissed her off.

"You. Fucking. Idiot." grumbled Merihim. "She’s weak by DEMON standards, SHE’S STILL A DEMON!"

Nelen shrugged, “Uh… lightning bolt? Two points damage?” he tried with a nervous grin, then dove for cover as a massive sticky tongue shot out and slammed into the wall behind where he’d been standing!

The warlock rolled against the wall behind a nearby cabinet, “One day that trick is GOING to work!” he grumbled, then ducked away again as the tongue smashed the cabinet to splinters!

He dug frantically through his bag of tricks as he ran under the stairway leading upstairs. It was a fairly large suburban house, and thankfully the basement did offer some opportunities for fleeing as the massive bulk of Igniz chased after him. She may be a demon but it seemed she couldn’t move that quickly. “GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT! THAT HURT!” she snarled.

“Dammit dammit dammit…” he grumbled, tossing out a jar of pickled fingers, a bottle of twice mulled unicorn tears, a scroll of secrets unspoken, and a Wendy’s gift card, then his hands closed around something hard. “DAWN! Wizard tank rogue spank!” he shouted, throwing something into the air as the cat caught it and immediately turned invisible.

Igniz rounded the corner at him, glaring, “What the fuck does THAT mean mortal?!” she snarled, opening her massive jaw wide to reveal not one but FIVE rows of razor-sharp fangs, her tongue shooting out of her maw as if fired from a cannon!

Nelen had nowhere to run though, he’d wound up stuck between the wine making still and another cabinet. He held up his hands and braced himself as best he could, but he knew he couldn’t dodge this one! There was a loud yelp and a crash, and he looked out to see a huge wall of swirling crimson infront of him.

“… I didn’t know you could do that.” he muttered. A dome of blood-like liquid covered him there, the warlock looking it up and down.

"Neither did I honestly, none of my hosts tend to last long enough to worry about defense." admitted Merihim.

Igniz glared, “HEY! Is that you Merihim?!” she shouted, “The hell are you doing fucking up my operation?! Can’t a girl just bottle some damn souls in peace?” she growled, stomping forward… but as she did there was a sudden twang, and a wooden crossbow bolt pierced her back from behind. Igniz swirled around to face her new attacker, spotting Dawn in the corner, holding a very small one-handed crossbow, and then suddenly her vision swam and she fell to her knees, coughing as her arms trembled.

Nelen drew Merihim back into his body, then smirked, “Gotcha frogface. All wood crossbow bolt, soaked in holy water. We normally use that for vampires but it should feel like getting poisoned for a demon I’d imagine.”

The demoness gagged, retching onto the floor and leaving a steaming puddle of bile, a second later it ate through the foundation of the house!

“G-GUGHETITOUTTAME!” she demanded, trying to claw the bolt free, but it was lodged too far between her shoulders, her stubby arms couldn’t reach it!

“Go to Hell.” he replied, then paused, “… that wasn’t an insult, that was literal declaration. We’re not pulling it out. You want it out you’ll have to disincorporate and, literally, go back to Hell.” he clarified.

Igniz roared in fury, but her body felt like it was on fire now, the holy water’s essence spreading through her blood like some horrible venom. It was starting to hurt to breathe! “You… little shits… how did you find out?” she gasped.

“Should’ve done proper maintenance. One of your circles got damaged and a bunch of souls escaped into a McDonald’s. Hard to miss a news story like that.” he nodded. “But hey, you get to brag to your buddies back downtown that you traumatized an entire pack of kindergartners on a field trip and made a corporate mascot get an emergency exorcism.”

“D-dammit…” she gagged, then chuckled, “… that… actually almost makes it worth it…” she coughed again, then suddenly her body simply fell apart into a mass of insects, all of them rushing towards the sewers as her infernal essence vanished back into the depths of the Pit.

Nelen swore and stomped any that came near him as Dawn teleported onto the ceiling until the swarm dissipated… then they walked back to the wine rack and looked it over.

“Sheesh, look at this. What the hell are we gonna do with all these? There’s gotta be at least thirty of ‘em. Do we just pour ‘em over the graves or what?” he asked.

Dawn shrugged, “Nah, that’ll take forever, and we’ll have to find a way to get ‘em outta here.” she replied, then reached onto a nearby table, “When in doubt, just smash the damn thing.” she grinned, holding up a claw hammer that had been sitting there.

Nelen shrugged, “Fuck it.” he replied, then he looked over at the still, lashed out with a tendril, and yanked the whole thing hard onto its front as Dawn smacked the bottles, one after another, until the floor was thick with red. Afterwards, they retraced their steps through the sewers and Nelen poured a bottled water over the circle under the morgue, breaking the circuit.

After a lengthy shower back at their hotel room that even Dawn didn’t gripe about (she hated getting wet but she sure as hells wasn’t going to clean the normal way after a romp through a sewer system) and some well-deserved rest they reported in to the manager that morning.

McDonald's Dining Room, the Next Morning

“Yeah, looks like it’s back to normal thank God…” she sighed in relief, “So what the hell did that?” she asked him.

“Exactly.” he nodded, then said, “Just… look you’re happier not knowing. Its sorted out now though. It was a freak occurrence and shouldn’t be anything worth worrying abo-…” he started, then there was a crash outside and a werewolf ran up the road infront of the restaurant, barking madly.

“… ah hell, the frozen coke machine up at Burger King must be on the fritz again. Third time this week.” grumbled the manager, “Ah well, not my damn problem.” she shrugged.

Nelen and Dawn watched the lycanthrope out the window, then turned to her, “… a frozen coke turned someone into a werewolf?” he asked incredulously.

“Naw, that’s just old Ray Buford. Guy loses his shit if he can’t get his frozen coke.” she nodded.

Nelen blinked, “… huh, um… okay then.” he replied. Dawn just shrugged, drinking down the last of her McFlurry. As any frontline customer service worker will tell you some customers can be real monsters, especially when the unexpected happens or they can’t get what they want. Just part of the job really.

Next Story

Previous Story

[andromedasstarship]

are you free tomorrow?

pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings - nothing! just a sweet & cliche ‘first meeting’ story  :)

summary - midterms are coming up and all the good cafes on campus are filled, maybe the sweet looking curly haired guy in the back will share his table with you?

a/n - for my valentines day oneshot series! 'every table is full, but i really need to study, is there any way we could share?'

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Stressed, was a simple way to explain the current state you were in. The semester had snuck up on you, moving faster than you had ever expected. As the fifth week was coming to a close, you were getting dangerously close to the storm of midterms you had waiting for you in the sixth week. And you desperately needed to study. The only thing stopping you- surprisingly not your own procrastination-, was that it seemed as if the rest of campus was also in the same predicament as you. 

This was the third cafe on campus that you had entered that was absolutely filled. 

Your eyes scanned around the room, hoping to catch someone in the middle of packing their things. Nope. You considered circling back through the other two cafes you’d just been in or maybe even just going off campus. Except you couldn’t justify wasting more time by circling the same few cafes over and over, nor could your college student budget justify paying for coffee when you could just use your allotted campus cash. 

Just as you were about to give up and leave- begrudgingly deciding that studying in your room would have to be good enough-, you spotted a man sitting alone towards the back of the cafe. He sat at a large table with plenty of space; even though he had one of the largest stacks of papers you’d ever seen one individual possess. 

You weighed your options, internally debating if it’d be worth potentially hurting your pride by asking him to share the table and getting rejected. Seeing as the other option was definitely hurting your pride by hovering the same cafes like a hungry park bird, you tightened your grip on your tote bag and started walking towards him.  

Whatever he was reading must’ve been exciting, as his focus didn’t stray even for a moment nor did he notice you at all until you were right up against the chair across from him. You awkwardly cleared your throat to catch his attention, giving him a tiny wave when he looked up at you. 

“Hi!” 

“Hello?” 

“I’m really sorry to bother you, just every table is full and I really need to study and I know it’s not the best, but could I share this table with you?” You asked anxiously, holding your breath as you waited for his answer. 

As he opened his mouth to respond, you quickly added. “I swear it’ll be like I’m not even here!”  

He gave you a ‘please calm down’ look and you felt some of the weight dissolve from your shoulders as he nodded his head. “Take a seat, no worry at all.” He told you, adding a kind smile as he looked back down at his stack of papers and pulled them closer; giving you more room at the table. 

You let your bag fall off your shoulder and hit the ground with a thunk, relieved to no longer be carrying the physical weight around. You clasped the top of the chair in front of you, leaning towards him just so. “Thank you,” you said, giving your best gracious smile, “let me get you a coffee or something?” 

He looked almost shocked- or was he flustered? you weren’t sure-, quickly shaking his head in response. “No! You don’t need to do that at all.” He assured you, but you weren’t so quick to back down. 

“It’s the least I can do, please?” You pressed, giving him a very exaggerated pleaaaase look, “with all those papers you must need some serious caffeine.” 

You thought he was going to continue this little back-and-forth with you, but you watched as his body relaxed ever so slightly, signs of what you hoped was him conceding. “Just a black coffee.” 

"Just black?" You countered, raising your eyebrow, leaving it unsaid that he was just choosing the cheapest drink they had.

"Room for cream? I'll fix it up myself." He replied.

----

From the line, you had your first opportunity to really give this guy a look. The papers in front of him had sucked him back in as soon as you stepped away from the table; meaning you weren’t too worried about him catching you in your little…, creeping moment. The student population was large, but it was still small enough that you found yourself repeatedly seeing the same strangers. Yet, you’d never seen this man before. And you were sure you would’ve remembered this man, had you seen him before. What? He was undeniably attractive. There was something about the way his hair just perfectly curled around his face that made you just want to reach out and ruff- that’s weird. Even his little sweater-tie-button up outfit was doing it for you. Maybe today won’t be so bad. 

The line moved quickly and you found yourself carrying the two drinks back over to the table in under five minutes. You set his cup by him, taking care to put it away from the massive stack of papers. You set your cup down next, sliding in the chair diagonal from him. 

“You know,” you started, hefting your bag up into the chair next to you, “I never got your name?”

“Thank you,” he quickly got out, holding up his coffee as he did so. “I’m Spencer, uh…, Spencer Reid.” He told you, a faint red creeping up from under his collar. 

You gave him your name in return, a bit distracted as you pulled more of your things from your bag. From the corner of your eye, you saw him hold his coffee up again, nodding his head towards the cream and sugar station before walking off to fix his drink up properly. 

In his absence, you pulled out the rest of your books, debating which subject you should tackle first. You were glad you were finally towards the end of your college career, meaning the majority of your classes were specific to your interests rather than a four hundred student gen-ed; not that it made you any more excited to study for this exam. 

When Spencer came back he set his coffee down with a slightly shaky hand. “Did you know coffee is actually classified as a fruit?” He asked, as he slid back into his seat against the wall. 

“I didn’t know that.” You replied, shaking your head. 

“The coffee bean itself grows on a bush and they’re actually the pit of a berry, which is what makes them a fruit. They come in two main varieties, green and red.” He rambled, as if reciting from some magic book stored in his brain. As soon as he was done he clamped his mouth shut, remembering how most people reacted to his ramblings. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, but your face didn’t show any signs of annoyance. “Big coffee fan Spencer?” 

“Big fan of facts.” He corrected, giving you a sheepish smile.

“Oh yeah? Well you seem pretty smart then, which class should I study for first?” You asked, holding up two of your textbooks.

He looked at both books curiously, trying to take a guess at what your major might’ve been. He pointed at the one in your left hand. God’s, Monsters and Mortals. 

“Are you an…, English major?” He guessed, wondering if the book was some supplement for a unit on the Iliad. Not to mention the other book you held up was quite literally called ‘Literature Through The Ages’. 

You shook your head, putting the book he chose down on the table while you returned the other one to your bag. “Close! Classics,” you said, giving him a sheepish grin, “I know, it’s a bit niche, kinda ridiculous, but there’s something about how we immortalized memories of ancient times through literature that are just fascinating. There’s something about the lessons of the past that I think a lot of people are ignoring today, ya know?” You replied, quickly closing your mouth before you’d go on some incredibly long tangent about your interests and studies. Didn’t you say it’d be like you weren’t even here?  

“No, no!” He hurriedly said, shaking his head. “Understanding the lessons and patterns of the past and how they’ve morphed humanity today? That’s cool!” He assured you. 

“Well what about you, Spencer Reid? What’s your major, you must have some horrible professors, if that stack of papers is the norm.” You joked, liking the way the corner of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. 

“I’m uh…, a professor here.” He responded, his face cringing ever so slightly as he watched your mouth drop open simultaneously as your eyes nearly fell out of your head. 

“You’re a…, professor?” You repeated, extremely confused as to how someone who looked only a few years older than you was somehow employed to such a degree. 

“Just a visiting one!” He clarified, clearing his throat. “I’m on a sort of, uh, sabbatical from work.” 

“Isn’t a sabbatical when someone gets away from academia?” You countered, smiling to show you meant no actual aggression. 

“Big fan of facts, remember?” He repeated plainly, but you caught the joke in it and you smiled wider at that. 

“No offense Professor, but you look a bit young to ya know, be one.” You said, hoping he’d give his age in response. 

“I’m 29.” Ah, only four years older than you. 

“29 and already a professor at a university like this? What, do you have like 20 Phds. or something?” You asked jokingly, laughing a bit as you said so. 

“Three actually.” He replied, a mix of shyness and pride across his face.

Your mouth dropped back open again, trying to wrap your mind around the man in front of you. “What are you? A genius then?” 

“By some standards, yes.”  

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that. Him paying special attention to each paper he graded- you wished all your professors cared about student work the way he seemed to-, while you were busy deciding which parts of the taught units were the most important. 

After what you imagined was nothing short of four hours you felt your head begin to throb and your eyes were starting to go fuzzy. In that time, the two of you had downed at least five coffees each, going back and forth over who paid for them. You had managed to create an individual study guide for nearly all your upcoming exams and a quick glance told you that Spencer still had a few papers left. Unbeknownst to you he could have finished those papers hours ago, even with the in depth comments he entered into the computer for each one; there was just something about you that drew him in.  

He wasn’t sure whether it was the funny unfiltered comments you’d make sporadically while you worked or the way you actually seemed to be interested in every little tangent he had gone on whenever one of his students brought up a particularly good or amusing point in their papers’. His therapist had recently recommended that he engage in conversations with those not already well acquainted with him and it seemed like the world had lined up perfectly to put you in front of him so soon after. 

You loudly slammed your textbook shut with a groan and let your head fall against the table. “Why does academia have to be so boring?” You asked rhetorically, bringing one hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Is it some requirement to get published? Your work needs to put college kids to sleep?”  

“The works that you’re reading are quite literally ancient, in their defense. The term ‘academia’ itself comes from the school of thought taught by Plato himself in ancient Athens.” Spencer explained, putting down the paper he had been grading. 

“And now, all these years later I have to suffer because Plato was such a bore.” You sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes. 

“You said you were studying the downfall of Icarus weren’t you?” He asked, once again unbeknownst to you, he remembered everything you had said today. “It’s one of my favorites of ancient Greek mythology. The power of the mind of man, yet how quickly that very power could be taken away if man oversteps. Really makes us wonder if we’ve overstepped as humans yet, if we use Icarus’s fall, quite literally from grace, as a lens for other devastations we’ve seen across history then-” 

“Spencer, are you free tomorrow?” You asked, effectively cutting him off. 

He looked a bit like a fish, the way you had stopped him mid sentence and his mouth hadn’t yet closed. His eyebrows turned up, head tilting with them. “Tomorrow? The 14th?” 

“Yeah, are you free tomorrow?” You repeated, holding back your nerves. 

“Oh.” He said, eyes going wide as you assumed he finally connected the dots, “Oh!” 

You were about to speak again, retract your question completely before he could reject you, suddenly wondering why you decided to go out on whim like that at all. But he beat you to it. 

“Yes, yes I am.” 

------

happy valentines day (almost) i love yall!!

tagging a few people who asked + a few mutuals i think might like this (no pressure!!) - @hqtchner @ssahoodrathotchner @kylorendrip @feverdreamreid @homoose 

permanent taglist - @sunflowersandotherthings

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 17: Sakusa Musubi

[prev] [next]

[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

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“The pre-season starts tomorrow, right?” You ask Kiyoomi as the three of you prepare for bed. Kia is settled in the middle of his bed, wrapped in a blanket burrito. Kiyoomi has her like that so she’ll stop moving around and sleep immediately.

“Yeah,” Kiyoomi answers, taking the Kia burrito in his arms. She starts giggling, excited to be lifted up. “I said go to sleep or I’ll eat you.” Kiyoomi jokingly bites on her covered leg, making her squeal.

“No! No! Don’t eat me!” Kia shrieks in defense, her giggles turning into laughter. “Mama, help! Papa’s eating me!”

You grin from ear to ear, Kia and Kiyoomi’s interaction bringing joy to your heart. You let Kia be, continuing to talk with Kiyoomi. “Can we watch you play tomorrow? Kia has never seen you in an official game.”

“That sounds like a good idea. I’ll tell my manager,” Kiyoomi replies, gently throwing Kia back on the bed.

Kia manages to get out of the wrap, so she crawls going to you. He pulls her back by the ankles, bringing her back close to him. He starts tickling her sides, making her squirm around. “Mama! Help!” Hearing Kia’s sincere pleads, you sigh.

“Omi, that’s enough,” you tell your fiancé. He stops, Kia panting heavily. He whispers something to her and you immediately know what it is. “Don’t go near me. Stay there.” You warn them but they’re already crawling going to you.

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t attack you?” Kiyoomi asks, hands on his hips. Kia mimics him, her hands on her hips as well.

“Why would you attack me?” You whine, raising your arms, ready to push them away.

“Wrong answer,” Kiyoomi says, hovering on top of you. Kia goes on his back, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs hanging off his sides. “I’ll you another chance.”

“Yeah! Another chance!” Kia repeats, peeking her head at you.

You can’t help but smile. “I’m your  fiancée?” You answer but unsure. Kiyoomi squints his eyes at you, thinking about your answer. He shakes his head, his hands ready to tickle your sides. “Kia! Save me! You love me, right?” You plead to your daughter.

“Kia, don’t help her,” Kiyoomi convinces. “You love me, too, right?” You scowl at him.

Kia goes down from Kiyoomi’s back and sits down beside the two of you. Kiyoomi sits back on the bed, waiting for Kia’s answer. She takes a good look at the to of you, but doesn’t answer.

“I thought I’d never get to ask you this, but here we are,” you chuckle, sitting up and leaning on the headboard.

“What are you talking about?” Kiyoomi apprehensively glances at you, worried about the chuckle you gave out.

“Who do you love more? Mama or papa?”

The room falls silent, the two of you staring at Kia anticipatingly. Kiyoomi crosses his arms, his eyes telling her to choose him. You smile at her, expecting to be chosen. Her eyes shuffle from you to her dad, a serious but empty look plastered on her face.

“I’m sure she’ll choose me,” you tell Kiyoomi proudly.

He scoffs, “If you’re so sure, why has she not given an answer yet?”

“She’s thinking of a way not to break your heart,” you reason confidently. He snickered at your sureness, also certain that Kia will choose him.

“The only one with a broken heart tonight will be you.” He sticks his tongue out, mocking you. You charge at him, but he grabs your hands and stops you. “Kia, tell your mama that you love your papa more.”

You two don’t get a respond, so you check her. She’s lying on the bed, her body under her blanket. You let go of Kiyoomi and fold your arms together. Kiyoomi pokes her but she doesn’t move.

“Good night,” Kia tells the two of you. She’s avoiding your question. You and Kiyoomi laugh, leaving her to sleep. The two of you end up with broken hearts.

You get off the bed to wash your face at his bathroom. He follows you, saying he has to wash his face, too. He locks the bathroom door, so you gulp. You keep your distance, wary of his actions. You know he’s up to something. And you know you can’t say no to him.

“2 meters,” you tell him, making sure you’re out of reach from him. He pouts at you. “We did it last night and Kia is just outside. Don’t even think about it.”

He moves closer to you, but you step away further. “The walls are soundproof.”

“I swear to god Sakusa Kiyoom, move any closer and I’ll-,” you warn him.

“You’ll what?” He says with a cocky tone, stepping closer to you. He lifts your chin up with his finger, his darkening irises piercing through yours. “You’ll what, angel?”

You cursed under your breath, your knees becoming weak. He smirks, seeing your pressed thighs. You pull him by the back of his neck, making him bend down so you can capture his lips into a kiss. He tilts his head to the side so you can kiss him better. He places his hand on your butt, squeezing on it. You spring in surprise and he takes this as a chance to lift you up by your thighs.

“Let’s take a shower.”

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“Omi! What happened to your back?” The whole changing room of the MSBY Black Jackals team freezes at Bokuto’s question. They’ve all seen what Bokuto’s talking about. They just choose not to say something about it, afraid to be in their teammate’s bad side.

“Did Kia scratch you?” Hinata asks, worriedly looking at Sakusa’s back.

“It’s from (Y/N),” Sakusa replies nonchalantly, staring at his two curious and worried teammates.

“These idiots...” Atsumu mutters to himself. He takes a peek at Kiyoomi’s back and can’t help it but smirk. ‘He really went hard last night? And before a game day? Nasty. Just nasty.’

You on the other hand is walking Kia around outside of the arena, waiting for their manager. He arrives and gives you two the special passes that Kiyoomi has requested for. You thank him and he leads you two near the locker rooms so you can meet Kiyoomi before the game.

“Mu-chan!” Kia squeals, running towards Atsumu. You watch her as she latches on the setter.

Your eyes wander around the room, looking for Kiyoomi’s curly hair. You feel someone blow on your ear so you flinch, looking back only to see the man you were looking for. His mask was pulled down to his chin so you could see his whole face.

“Are you sure Kia won’t be afraid of the crowd later?” He asks you, staring at his daughter from the distance. “You know how loud it can get when the game starts.”

“I think she’ll be fine,” you reassure him. Kia sees Kiyoomi so she comes down from Atsumu’s arms and start dashing back to you and her father.

“Papa!” She screams on top of her lungs on her way to the two of you. Kiyoomi squats down, his arms wide open, ready to hug her. She prances to his arms, hugging him tightly. “I’m gonna watch you play!”

“Is that so? I’ll do my best then,” he replies, gently smiling at her. Their manager calls them back to prepare. “Give me a good luck kiss.” Kiyoomi lowers his head, Kia planting a kiss on his forehead. He stands up and leans down, waiting for a kiss from you.

“Win the match and I’ll kiss you,” you tease, chuckling. He rolls his eyes then puts his mask back on. “Good luck, Omi.”

You and Kia head to your designated seats, waiting for the game to start. The team starts to enter and the roars get louder, startling Kia. You calm her down, making sure she won’t cry. She sees Kiyoomi walk on the court, her fears forgotten. She leans near the railing, wanting to see him clearly.

“Kyo! Papa!” She screams on top of her lungs, waving her arms. Kiyoomi spots her and grins at her, taking the attention of cameras and the commentators. Sakusa Kiyoomi smiling is rare. They got to take a lot of footage for the fan service.

“Flying kiss,” you instruct her. She puts her small palm on her pouty lips, then flicks her wrist, making a smooch sound. Kiyoomi pretends to catch the kiss then swallows it. Kia giggles, turning his smile into a grin.

“Go Omi!! Get that service ace!” You screamed, your voice echoing through the entire gym. You even beat the Itachiyama Academy’s cheering squad loudness. He looked up to you, a little bit embarrassed. Not by you, but because his ears were turning red from excitement. He loved hearing you cheer for him.

You blew a kiss at him. You saw him shyly catch the kiss with his hand, making you smile. He wasn’t a big fan of PDA but he loved showing off that you were together. So he allowed all these cringe-worthy actions in public.

The whistle blew, signaling that he could serve. Before he could throw his service toss, he kissed the palm of his hand that caught your kiss.

And he got a service ace.

You look up to the screens hanging on the ceiling and see that the cameras have captured everything. Everyone is cooing and squealing, the commentators asking who the little girl Sakusa Kiyoomi is being soft for. Kia sees herself on the screen so she hides her face on your chest, shy. The cameras move away, giving her comfort back.

The game starts and the commentators introduce the players. “And for the MSBY Black Jackals!”

“Musubi?” Kia tilts her head to the side, the name of the team capturing her attention. “Can I change my name to Musubi?”

“You wanna be called Sakusa Musubi?” You giggle at her sudden suggestion. She nods, determined. “We can’t change your name, baby. Uncle Keikei chose your name for you. He’ll be heart broken if you change your name.”

“Then can we name my baby brother Sakusa Musubi?” Kia asks. You blink your eyes multiples times in confusion. Maybe you just misheard her because of the noise.

“What did you say baby?” You make her clarify.

“I want my baby brother to be Sakusa Musubi,” she repeats. You didn’t hear her wrong.

“You want a baby brother?” You chuckle, not taking her words seriously. You take it as one of her random babbles. “Did your uncle Keikei and Kenken tell you to say that again?”

“No. Papa.” Her reply makes you stop, your full attention on her.

“Papa?” You raise an eyebrow and she nods.

“Papa Kyo. He said you and him will give me baby brother.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spam Musubi Recipe

Ingredients:

2 cups uncooked short-grain white rice 2 cups water 6 tablespoons rice vinegar ¼ cup soy sauce ¼ cup oyster sauce ½ cup white sugar 1 (12 ounce) container fully cooked luncheon meat (e.g. Spam) 5 sheets sushi nori (dry seaweed) 2 tablespoons vegetable oil

Directions: 

Step 1: Clean rice grains by rinsing and draining it AT LEAST TWICE. Please watch Uncle Roger’s tutorial on how to properly cook rice the Asian way. Step 2: Once rice is cooked, mix in rice vinegar while it’s hot. Set rice aside to cool. Step 3: In a separate bowl, stir together soy sauce, oyster sauce, and sugar until sugar is completely dissolved. Slice luncheon meat into desire thickness and marinate it for at least 5 minutes. Step 4: In a large skillet, heat oil over medium high heat. Cook the spam/ luncheon meat until desired crispiness. Step 5: Cut nori sheets in half and lay on a flat work surface. Place a rice press in the center of the sheet, and press rice tightly inside. Top with a slice of luncheon meat, and remove press. Wrap nori around rice mold, sealing edges with a small amount of water. (Rice may also be formed by hand in the shape of the meat slices, 1 inch thick.)

Musubi may be served warm or chilled.

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Taglist:  @elianetsantana​ aoi-turtle ptv-hades  aquzairus a-applepijustoneofthefangirlsarianna-r13 morenabambinii chaelysian loser-keiji mxngy ne-kuroon1fangirlsblog d-efendmissalicebaskervillemarvelousbakugou @agaashesmilktea​ bonkyandloki kimi09 ntimacy @mkazuyuh  ushi-please minty-mangos-world @dearest-kiyoomi​ yeehawslap  onlyshinjiobsessedwhxre

[mediocre--writing]

au where steves dad is the abusive one?

ok i saw this whole thing a while back about how nancy slapped steve in s1 and he didn’t flinch or cower away and people said it could be a result of getting used to not flinching...

so steve’s dad is an all powerful, mighty businessman who needs the perfect wife and kid, meaning it has to be that way at home, as well.

steve is kinda used to it. like a little slap here and there are no big deal and he’s a little brat most of the time, so he kinda deserves it.

and, let’s just say, maybe billy moved to hawkins with his mom and her new husband (max’s dad) but he’s still pretty upset with the move. not as destructive, but still mad he’s been pulled from his home.

he befriends steve pretty quickly, they’ve got very similar personalities deep down and they recognize it pretty quickly.

billy’s a clingy friend. he’s the type of person to find one friend and latch on for life.

that’s why it’s so peculiar to him that he’s been friends with steve for almost a year now but has yet to go to his house.

steve’s always busy or his parents are having a brunch party or something. and billy gets it, sometimes you just don’t wanna be at your house and need a getaway, but this is bordering on ridiculous.

ridiculous as in steve has a drawer and a half of his stuff in billy’s vanity, plus a few jackets hanging on the hooks by the door. it’s weird.

and so, one random sunday that billy knew steve had nothing to fill his time on, he goes to his house as a surprise.

he had blissfully ignored the little signs between steve, himself, and his mom. the ones that flinch at loud noises and don’t particularly like bigger men. he figured it was whatever. he’d continue to barge into steve’s life if it was the last thing he’d do.

he rang the doorbell, waited for an answer.

“...nd when i get back there you better get rid of that bullshit you call a sense of humor or i’m gonna give you a real reason to cry!”

billy’s eyes widened at what he’d heard, but quickly composed himself as a man, he assumed john, steve’s father, answered the door.

“hi, how can i help you?” he was buttoning his shirt cuffs and looking annoyed as ever while staring down billy. as if he had better things to be doing.

“i’m here for steve,” billy have a small smile that felt more like a snarl.

“he’s busy right now—“

“but we’ve got a project. it’s due monday and we’re only halfway through,” billy chuckled as if he were telling an amusing anecdote. “you see, i’ve been blowing off our study meetings and he’s been telling me, you know, i’ve gotta do my share of the project, but i’ve been goofing off. you get that? right?

“so, anyway, my moms all on me about my grades and i need this project to boost it up, but i can’t do it without steve,”

john is still staring at billy with a nonamused look on his face.

“what class?”

“english. we’re supposed to compare and contrast whether elizabeth should have gotten with darcy or not. i’m pretty against it, you know. he was so mean to her and his only excuse was that he’s shy? sounds like a load of crap, ya know? but steve’s all for this mushy crap. he swears they should be together forever,” billy chuckles and keeps talking. “you know—“

“kid, if you shut up right now i’ll make sure steve’s down in a second, alright?” john finally cuts him off, looking about ready to rip his own hair out (or what’s left on the sides).

smiling, billy thanks him and walks to stand by his car, waiting for steve.

“go,” john says as he storms into steve’s room.

steve’s eyebrows furrow. his dads gotten mad before, sure, but never just kicked him out like this.

“your little friend... the one with the curly hair... he’s waiting outside for you to complete your english project,” john tweaks an eyebrow as he leans on steve’s doorframe.

steve’s eyes widen then he nods, collecting school stuff, just to make whatever lie billy spewed out believable. he pulls on a shirt and grabs a coat as he makes his way downstairs.

“when you get home,” john starts as he stands near the door, waiting for steve to come down, “we’re finishing our discussion, do you understand?”

“yes, sir,” steve nods as he smiles to his mother, swinging his backpack over his shoulder, which is the wrong move because it smacks and rubs at where the belt had hit earlier.

“go on, don’t keep him waiting,” john opens the door and steve practically sprints out the door.

billy gives a half smile as he gets in the car, steve walking around to the passenger seat and getting in, throwing his book bag in the backseat.

billy backs out of the (ridiculously long) driveway and starts driving out of the neighborhood.

“we don’t... actually have a project i forgot about by some chance, right?” steve asks meekly.

“i’m not even taking english this semester, steve,” billy says as a joke, but it comes out softer and almost sounds like he’s scared to say the wrong thing.

“why did you stop by?” steve asks as the boys pull up near the entrance to the trails that lead through the woods towards the quarry.

billy only shrugs as he turns the car off and gets out, walking down a trail, steve quickly following behind.

“you didn’t answer,”

“i—i don’t know?” billy admitted, shoving his hands into the tight pockets of his jeans. “i guess, i’ve never really seen your house and i was curious,”

steve nods as they continue walking in silence, only the crunching of leaves under their feet.

steve keeps glancing over to billy, wonders if billy can tell what happened by the way steve’s walking or talking.

billy keeps glancing over to steve, wonders what’s going through his head and how badly he wants to cry or scream.

eventually, after about 15 minutes of walking in silence, they reach the peak of the quarry, and billy sits down and hangs his feet off the edge.

he pats the spot to his left when steve stays standing behind him.

steve sits down reluctantly, careful not to scoot too close to the edge.

“my dad is a piece of shit, too,” billy says quietly as he looks over to steve, trying to gauge his reaction.

steve’s big eyes grow even wider before his head snaps over to billy, mouth opening and closing multiple times.

“it’s why my mom and i moved here. she divorced him when i was like, uhh—i don’t know—maybe eight or nine? but he kept bothering us. would show up at night and bang on the door, threaten my me and my mom, all that kinda stuff. it got worse when my mom started dating trevor, he kidnapped me once, when i was 10,

“got me out of school and just took me to his house and wouldn’t let me leave or make phone calls. trevor, he was a police officer in cali, and he was the one who helped my mom find me,” billy smiled as if it was a nice little story. “i don’t know what i would have been like if i’d have gotten stuck with my dad. he was mean and vile and hit my mom and i all the time until we just left, it’s the only thing that stopped it,”

“billy—“

“it’s not a pity story, steve. i’m trying to let you know that bad situations only get worse when you try to solve them on your own. and i know your parents probably won’t divorce or anything, so let me help you because i don’t want something to go too far one day that could have been avoidable if you just had someone,”

“i don’t—“

“don’t what?” billy asked, but it sounded more like a threat.

steve’s eyebrows pulled together and he sucked his lips between his teeth, face screwing up in a way that looked almost painful. “i don’t—i don’t know what i did—“

steve let out a gaspy sob that looked like it hurt coming out of his chest, tears that had been pooling for months finally breaking through the barrier, cascading down his face and, if this wasn’t such a heartbreaking moment, almost made his big brown eyes look prettier.

billy, scooting himself off the edge, pulled steve backwards so he could fall into billy’s chest and let it all out.

“you didn’t do anything, stevie,” billy brought a gentle hand up and down steve’s back and arm, “none of this is your fault, i promise. nothing you have done or will do is ever going to make his actions justified, ok?”

steve nodded his head slowly as he continued to cry, but it was less sobbing and more overflowing emotions at this point.

“do you wanna stay at mine tonight?”

“...please,”

“of course,” billy was tempted to kiss steve on the crown of his head, so he did. “you are welcome whenever you need to come over,”

“i’m scared to go back,” steve whispered, heard only slightly over the high winds.

“you don’t have to go back,” billy whispered in return.

“yeah, i do,” steve whispered again, “he’s already mad you interrupted—“

“interrupted what?” billy asked, wondering why steve left off his sentence.

“noth—“

“interrupted what?”

“was hittin’ me with ‘is belt,” steve said into billy’s chest, quiet as he could.

“stevie,” billy cooed, and, somehow, steve didn’t feel like he was being talked down to. it may have been the way it was said or who said it, but it made him feel safe.

they kept sitting their for another hour, at least, and just enjoyed the noise of nature. not loud men, not threatening home lives, just birds singing and wind blowing and the water lapping below the edge.

[romecardoso]

{chay suede, 29, cis man, he/him/his} || rômulo cardoso is a mutant with the ability of bogeyman physiology. they’ve been in new york for twenty-nine years where they spend most of their time as a bartender at the honey trap & drug dealer. when i think of them, i think of waking up before the sun has risen, tied up shoes hanging from a power line, laughter echoing across an empty parking lot. they are affiliated with the brotherhood. [eli, 24, she/her/hers, gmt-3] 

@c23intros

full name: rômulo cardoso nicknames: rome, romy gender: cis male, he/him sexuality: bisexual birthdate: april 15th languages: (brazilian) portuguese as a first language, english as second, dabbles in spanish species: mutant abilities: makes mean drinks, can cook, good at sports affiliation: brotherhood

alignment: chaotic neutral zodiac: aries positive traits: caring, loyal, humorous, a good addition to your haunted house next year negative traits: unforgiving, impulsive, self-centred, shit stirrer, gym rat physical traits: always has facial hair, usually seen with floppy curly brown hair but sometimes shaves it down, pretty buff, handful of tattoos, short king at 5'8 in his human form, though in his bogeyman form he's probably a little over 7 feet i'm sorry

BACKSTORY

TW: parental neglect.

rômulo's parents were never supposed to be more than a fling. he was born kicking and screaming into the arms of immigrant parents who were just trying to make the best of the american dream, and did not have the energy to care for a baby. still, they tried their best, at first. the couple split up when he was still just a baby, mom remarried, and they carried on co-parenting until he was about two years old.

at two, rômulo's father mysteriously disappears. not much is said and not much is done about this, rome's mother assumes he just ran away. by three years old, the first incident happens. his stepdad is playing with him in the living room, and rome shifts. later, a shaken up, mortified stepdad will explain to rômulo's mom that he swears he's seen their child turn into a seven-foot-tall monstrosity for a minute.

it keeps happening after that. whenever rômulo felt any grand emotion -- which was a lot of the time, considering he was a three-year-old --, he would shift and release the bogeyman creature inside of him. even if his mom and stepdad wanted to get used to the image of the flappy-skinned creature their son turned into, that only lasted a week before he learned how to shift into their worst nightmares. he thought it was kind of fun at first, to see his mother scream her lungs out after meeting with a monster around the corner. but it didn't feel like a good joke anymore when she was crying and cowering away, when he just wanted to hug her. at three, he didn't understand why his parents were so scared -- it was just him. to him, it was just a silly thing, no different than sticking his tongue out or clapping his hands.

his father was a mutant, as well as all of that side of the family. rômulo's mom was a human and knew this, but never paid that world any mind; since rome's dad had an invisible mutation, it was pretty easy to ignore. when living with her own son became unbearable, she turned to his father's family. the only person left from that side was tia esperança, a great-aunt, a recluse old lady who gracefully accepted to take in and raise rômulo herself.

tia esperança is rome's entire world. she was already old by the time she took him in when he was three, and she's now ancient, though she will never reveal her age if you ask. she is a hardcore anti-humans mutant, after growing up in a world unaccepting of her own abilities. she decided to raise rômulo to be the most unapologetic, chaotic thing the world has ever seen. she always believed in his powers' potential, and she always treated the bogeyman as his real form -- the human face was just a shell, a charade to trick others. it's still very common, to this day, for her to get mad at him if he shows up in her house with his human face on. funnily enough, he has never been able to find out what her biggest fear is, she has always been greeted with his default bogeyman shape.

so this is how he grew up. thinking so highly of himself-- abandoned by his parents, but at the same time, adored by tia esperança for the same thing that made others turn their back. it got beaten into him, how to love himself, how to put himself up on a pedestal. he grew up and into his powers, and he learned about how the world won't accept him because he is better than them. 

from the kid who learned he could get all the toys to himself by terrorising the other kids in the playground, to the man who doesn't take anything seriously anymore. rômulo, much like you would expect from a bogeyman, is a shit stirrer just for the sake of it. he doesn't go around scaring people often, if only because he's protective these days, but he takes great joy in freaking people out when he does. 

he never had many goals for an actual career in mind, and drug dealing just sort of happened to him, after hanging out with the right (or wrong) crew in high school. he's been dealing ever since, because it gives him good money. for the sake of doing something else with his time and for networking new clients, he also took up a job at the strip club, and he's been bartending for a while there. it's just dark enough in there that he can get away with excusing his slip-ups out of his human form, by the end of the nights. if someone starts blabbering about how they saw a monster, well -- that's enough vodka for you, terry!

CONNECTION IDEAS

tba ! 

[sunkissedspider]

Caught | Peter Parker

MASTERLIST

***taglist is open!!! just send an ask or message me and i’ll add you :)***

***requests are open!!! just send an ask or message me your request if you have one :)***

pairing: Peter Parker x (kinda)stark!reader

summary: after months of desperately trying to keep their relationship secret, you and Peter finally get caught

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), making out, language, fluff, etc.

listen to: Carolina - Harry Styles (it doesn't really fit the whole thing, but i love that song, sooo)

word count: 2.5k+

a/n: this one actually has a plot????? thank you @andi0617​ for requesting this (i changed it a little bit, i hope you don't mind <3) :) this is kinda choppy and has a lot of time jumps, by the way. sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!!

    "Do you think they're dating?" Tony asked the team, looking at you and Peter watching a movie on the couch, your hands intertwined on top of the blanket you both shared.

    "Oh, stop it, Tony. They're just friends." Nat said, dismissing the question. Nat and Pepper were the only people that knew about you and Peter, other than Ned, Betty, and MJ. You were really close with Pepper and Nat, and you told then basically everything, and you knew they could both keep secrets really well too.

    "Look at them! They're... all lovey-dovey and shit!" He whisper-yelled at everyone in the kitchen, his hand gesturing towards you and Peter, your head now resting on his shoulder.

    "They've been best friends since third grade, they're just close. Don't worry about it." She tried to dismiss him again, but we all know that Tony is stubborn, so he didn't drop it.

***

    You and Peter sat in the theater room, some random action movie playing in the background as you made out. You and Peter couldn't keep your hands off of each other when you were alone, especially since keeping your relationship a secret kinda sucked.

    The only reason that your relationship with Peter was a secret was because Tony was your uncle. Well, technically he wasn't, but your parents had been best friends with him for years, and you even called him Uncle Tony. You just didn't want to freak him out, and you especially didn't want Peter to get in trouble with him.

    "Come on," Peter said, his lips pulling away from yours, your legs wrapped around his waist. "Why can't we just tell them?"

    "Pete, we've talked about this. If we tell Uncle Tony and he doesn't like it, one, we could get in trouble, and two, he could take away your Spidey-Boy privileges." You giggled, kissing the tip of his nose as he scrunched it up.

    "It's Spider-Man, but whatever." He said under his breath, playfully rolling his eyes.

    "I think I like Spidey-Boy more," You laughed, looking up at Peter's face, his eyes not meeting yours. "What's wrong, love?" You ask, your hand smoothing over his cheek.

    "Can we please just tell them?" His lips form into a small pout as he looks at you with the sweetest puppy dog eyes ever. They always get you, and he knows that for a fact.

    You let out a groan, covering your face with your hands. "Soon, I promise."

    Peter's lips immediately perk up into a big smile, his eyes sparkling. He leans down to kiss you passionately before you can grill him about guilt tripping you, but when his lips connect with yours, you forget about everything but him.

***

    "Pep, Natasha! There you two are!" Tony said, walking into the kitchen. They both were sat at the table, Nat holding the newspaper in her hands, Pepper reading over her shoulder, as they drank their morning coffees.

    "Yes, Tony? What's up? I know that look." Pepper asked, eyeing Tony cautiously.

    "Well, you know how I've been trying to figure out if Y/N and Peter are together?" He started, almost immediately getting interrupted.

    "Will you just give it up, Tony? They're just friends." Natasha said, looking at Pepper quickly.

    "Listen, okay? I was planning on giving it up," Nat and Pepper both let out sighs of relief. "Until I started thing about it more." And they were stressed out again. "They've been best friends since the third grade, we all know that. But have you ever seen the way that Peter looks at her? It's like he can't help but stare. I mean, yes, yes beautiful, but he never stops looking at her. Or talking about her. Or touching her. Blegh."

    "Is there a point to this, Tony?" Pepper asked, racking her brain for excuses.

    "Harsh, Pep. And, yes. There actually is. I've asked Bucky to help me go on a little mission to figure out what they're always doing in the theater room. Or in the gardens. Or anywhere!" He said, standing proudly at his idea.

    "How's Bucky gonna help you figure this out?" Natasha said, both her and Pepper laughing.

    "Well, uh... He's the first person I thought of... I think he can really do it though! Just you see; soon, we're all gonna find out if Y/N and Peter are dating," He said. "Or if I'm just an overly analytical dumbs." He muttered under his breath before Turing on his heels, leaving the kitchen.

    "Jesus Christ, he's a handful." Pepper said, both her and Nat laughing.

    "I don't know how you put up with him, to be honest." Nat adds, both of them laughing even louder now.

***

    You and Peter sat in his bed, and, with you being the only other person on his floor, you two slept in each other's rooms a lot. You guys hadn't been dating for very long, maybe three months, but you had known Peter since you were both nine years old, and had been inseparable ever since.

    But here you are, on his bed, your hands in his slightly damp hair, his head on your chest, the both of you calming down from the incredible sex you had just had. It was always great with Peter, and that's why you're glad that the walls are, like, 85% sound proof.

    "Jesus Christ," Peter said, his breath fanning against your bare skin. "Fuck, that was good."

    Both of you chuckle quietly, your faces flushed a bright red.

    "It was," You agree, giggling slightly at Peter, his beautiful brown eyes looking up at you. "It always is with you, Pete."

    "I never thought that this would've happened. Like, if we went back and told nine year old Peter that he'd be getting to date his best friend, his little curly headed mind would be blown. And, God, if I had told, like, fourteen year old Peter that he would get to sleep with you... Jesus, he would've had a heart attack." He breathes out, both of you laughing.

    You both pause, looking into each other's eyes for a few moments, until you hear a knock on Peter's door.

    "Pete?" Tony says through the door. "Peter, can you open the door?"

    You and Peter look at each other again, both of your eyes wide with panic.

    "Go, go!" Peter whisper yells, handing you his gym shorts and sweatshirt, motioning for you to hide in his closet. You scramble off of his bed, your hair messy and tangled as you slip into the shorts that are way too big on you, Peter helping you to get his hoodie on. You pick up your clothes quickly, hiding them beneath a few things of Peter's in his laundry hamper.

    "Peter, come on. Open the door." Tony presses, impatience in his voice.

    "Uh, yeah, Mr. Stark. Just a second." Peter says loudly, helping to close the door of his closet before he throws on some sweatpants, panting when he finally makes it to the door, his curly hair sticking up all over his head. "Hey, what's up?" He asked, one hand on his hip, the other on the door frame.

    "You okay, Peter? You look all... sweaty." Tony asked, eyeing Peter suspiciously.

    "Yes sir, I'm fine. I, uh, I- I was just working out."

    "There's a gym downstairs, Pete. But, uh, Pepper just wanted me to tell you that dinner's ready and everyone's gonna be in the dining room soon, so... Also, have you seen Y/N anywhere? She wasn't in her room." He asked, looking at Peter in a totally normal way, but, to Peter, it made him feel like he knew about the two of you.

    "No sir, I haven't seen her. But, uh, I'll, uh, I'll shoot her a text and tell her. Bye!" Peter smiled before slamming the door in Tony's face, locking it before running over to his closet.

"Are you okay? Jesus, I thought he was gonna catch us," Peter says, his face serious. Well, until you start laughing, then he just looks confused as hell. "Why are you laughing?"

    "Baby, your face is all red. You look like a tomato," You giggle, your hands going up to cup his face, leaving a soft kiss on his lips. "You need to not worry so much. Even if he suspects something, he won't know until we want him to know."

***

    Almost everyone on the team sat around the big dining table, and, of course, you and Peter sat next to each other, as always.

    Sometime in the middle of dinner, the Radom topic of theories came up. So, naturally, you and Bucky started to bicker about them. You and Bucky were good friends, but you always had small fights about the dumbest shit.

    "You're not listening, Buck. What I'm trying to tell you is that one time Loki and I were talking about it and-" You argued back, before getting interrupted.

    "Oh, of course it was Loki. That makes so much more sense now! Loki, Loki, Loki... you're always talking about him. I swear, I haven't seen someone have such a big crush in years." Bucky said, causing everyone at the table to laugh loudly.

    "Who wouldn't have a crush on him? He's gorgeous!" You said, half joking, half being serious.

    You had almost forgot that Peter was there until you felt a small squeezing on your right thigh, causing you to look over and see Peter with his jaw clenched tightly. You gave him a certain look, saying that you were sorry, which he replied to with another squeeze on your thigh and a small smile, before the other of you looked over at Bucky again, seeing him and Steve talk about the very thing that prompted the small fight.

    You and Peter thought nothing of your quick, wordless exchange... but Tony saw I all. And, if he wasn't so set on finding the perfect evidence of you two, he would've known right then and there that you and Peter were, in fact, dating. But, if anything, it only furthered his suspicion  even more, his desire to find out the truth growing.

***

    "Oh, shit," Peter said when your back slammed against the wall of your bedroom, causing you to giggle between kisses. "Are you okay?"

    "Yeah, I'm fine, Pete. Just shut up and keep kissing me." You said, laughing.

    You moaned loudly when Peter shoved you onto your bed, biting down onto your neck, his hands reaching for the hem of your shirt, pulling it off of you before littering your chest with dark, purple marks.

    "Peter, baby, please." You moan breathlessly.

    "'Please' what, baby?" He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck.

    "Fuck, I need you inside of me," You groan, your hips bucking up against Peter's.

    His movements stop abruptly for a second, until he its back on his knees, ripping his sweatshirt off of himself, sliding your leggings, along with your underwear, down your legs. Your hands move to his waistband, kissing his toned lower stomach as you quickly untied his sweatpants string, sliding his boxers down his legs with his bottoms, causing his cock to slap against his lower stomach.

    You both move so he's hovering your you, his body between your legs.

    "Ready?" He asks, his hard member in his hand, just inches away from your entrance.

    You nod vigorously, your legs wrapping around Peter's hips as he pushes into you, loud groans leaving the both of you.

    "Fuck, Peter!" You scream when he starts to move his hips at a quick pace, loud grunts from him paired with loud moans from you.

    If you both weren't so caught up in the moment, you would've heard the footsteps in the hallway, the knock on your door, the screech from your hinges. The only thing that got your and Peter's attention was the loud slam of your door, the force of it so strong that it shook the small knick knacks on your wall shelves.

    "Tony?" Bucky yelled, his back against your door, one of his hands covering his eyes even though he was out of the room.

    "Yeah, Buck?" Tony asked from the kitchen.

    "Uh, yeah. They're dating." He said just as you and Peter opened your bedroom door, hair tangled and messy, a light layer of sweat covering both of your bodies.

***

    "You guys... were... having... sex? You guys were... having sex? You guys were having sex?!" Tony yelled, loud enough that those of the team that weren't in the kitchen, not that there were many, could definitely hear him. Almost everyone was either in the kitchen or the living room, so when you and Peter chased Bucky around, begging him not to tell anyone. So, when he led you two into the kitchen, he turned around and looked at you both with the biggest smile.

    "Uncle Tony, please-" You started, getting interrupted almost immediately.

    "Stop talking right now, just let me say some things." He said, throwing his head back and breathing in deeply, before his eyes locked onto Peter's. "You... Peter Parker. You were having sex with my niece. And you weren't even using protection... And its still fucking light outside. You couldn't have waited for everyone to go to bed? Oh, Jesus Christ. You guys had sex-"

    "Mr. Stark, it's not just sex... I love her, okay?! I'm sorry for yelling, but, God, Mr. Stark, I love her so much!" Peter bursts, his jaw clenched tightly.

    "What?!" Everyone in the kitchen yells, all of them looking at you and Peter with wide eyes.

    "W- what did you say, Peter?" You ask, eyes locking with his brown ones, disbelief in your voice.

    "I love you, Y/N. And you don't have to say it back. I know we haven't been going out for very long, but I can't help it, you're just so-" You cut him off before he rambles on and on for hours.

    "I love you too, Peter." You say, hands reaching up to go around his neck.

    He smiles bigger than you've ever seen in your whole life, picking you up by your waisted and placing a long, passionate kiss on your lips and your hands tangle in his hair.

    If you two weren't so lost in each other, then you would've heard Pepper, Nat, and even Bucky telling Tony not to look, not wanting to ruin the moment.

    After what seems like forever, but was probably only thirty seconds, you and Peter pull away, him placing you on the floor before wrapping you in a big hug.

    "Now, both of you listen," Tony starts, Pepper looking at him as a sign to go easy on you two. "I'm not happy about this right now... But, since I like Peter, neither of you are in trouble. Now go." He says, pointing a finger before dismissing you both.

    You and Peter practically run upstairs, wanting to forget that this ever happened, before Tony calls after the both of you.

    "But, guys... Next time you have sex, please make sure to lock the door."

__________

taglist: @ertherealrose​ @peter-tiingle​ @petertiingz​

[shadow-assassin-blix]

Parent Trap

Part 1

A/N: It’s here yall. The Marcus Moreno x Reader Parent Trap AU. There are some swears. Some point of view switching but I note it in bold. 

‘Thoughts’ “Speak” 

The Hero:

Marcus Moreno was in the middle of meeting with the Heroics. Going over assignments, and potential threats to be on the lookout. He was listening to Miracle Guy talk about something ridiculous when his cellphone went off. He glanced down, and his eyes widen in surprised. It was Missy’s school.

He quickly answered it, saying, “Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Moreno? This is Principal O’Shaughnessy. If you could please come down to the school, as soon as possible. There’s been an incident involving your daughter and two other students,” Came an older male voice.

“I’m on my way,” Marcus got up and rushed out, not caring that he left in the middle of a meeting.

The Artist:

Y/N Graves was a simple woman. She worked as artist, which meant she was often home, elbow deep into whatever project she was working on currently. That was where she was when her phone rang.

She dropped her paint brush to answer it with a cheery, “‘Ello?”

“Miss Graves, this is Principal O’Shaughnessy, your daughter Artemis? Was involved in an incident at school with two other students. If you could please come as soon as possible,” Came a man’s voice.

“Be there soon,” She hung up, quickly cleaning her brushes before she left.

She hopped into her car and drove to the school; thankful it was only a couple blocks away. She made her way inside and to the principal’s office. She stops short when she sees her daughter standing near another little girl, with long curly black hair and dark eyes. Before noticing the third kid, a boy, who was sitting in a plastic chair, with a black eye and tissues up his nose to stop the bleeding.

“What the fu—frick?” She whispered taking in everything with slight horror.

Artemis giggled softly at her almost swearing. She goes to say something to her when she felt someone crash into her from behind. She stumbled forward trying to regain her balance. She turned around to yell but stopped.

“Marcus?” She asked staring at a face she hadn’t seen in years.

“Shade?” He parroted calling her by her nickname, one she hadn’t heard in years.

She then asked, “Please tell me that one is not yours,” pointing at the boy.

“No. The other one behind you,” Marcus said with a chuckle.

Before they could say much more a woman with dyed hair, lululemons and a tank top came in, her voice high-pitched with outrage at the sight of her kid.

“What happened to my baby!?” She screeched out.

The Principal cleared his throat at that time, to gain everyone’s attention. Shade moved over to stand by her daughter, as Marcus did the same.

“Mrs. Delaney, it appears that your son was bullying, Miss Moreno here. Miss Moreno tried to walk away from him several times, but your son continued to follow her, and even began shoving her. That was when Miss Graves stepped in, and punched your son,” Mr. O’Shaughnessy explained reading off an incident report.

“Or at least that was what stated from the teacher’s watching. Miss Moreno, would you like to tell us what happened?” He directed his attention to Marcus’ daughter.

“Tommy was teasing me about not having active powers. He kept saying mean things like ‘oh your dad must be disappointed in having a lame daughter.’ And stuff like that. I tried to walk away from him several times, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. Artemis came over and told him to go away. When he didn’t, she punched him, telling him to leave me alone,” Missy recounted staring at the ground.

“What lies! My Tommy would never! I hope you plan on punishing them!” Mrs. Delaney exclaimed angrily.

Shade rolled her eyes to the high heavens and stared at this dramatic woman, pointedly.

“My daughter defended her friend. Against a bully. If anyone should be punished, it should be your kid. It’s not our fault you raised an ass,” Shade sassed, crossing her arms.

Mrs. Delaney gasped in exaggerated horror, even going so far as to covering her son’s ears. The girls giggled quietly at her, and Marcus was trying not to laugh.

“Mrs. Graves, if you could please refrain from the foul language. Mrs. Delaney, I have warned you multiple times about Tommy’s behaviors. This is the last straw. He will be suspended for 2 weeks. As for Miss Graves, seeing as this is your first offense, you will get a warning. I do not tolerate fighting on school grounds, got it?” Mr. O’Shaughnessy cut in.

Mrs. Delaney grabbed her son, muttering something ‘I have never..’  and left.

The kids still have a couple hours left of class, but the principal gave them permission to leave early if they wished. The girls went and got their bags and whatever assignments they were going to miss for the day. Marcus and Shade stood outside by the entrance waiting for them.

The Kids:

Missy looked over at Artemis and asked, “So. You saw our parents act weird when they saw each other right?”

Artemis nodded as she grabbed her jacket and bag. “They clearly know each other. Did you see the way they looked at each?”

“All goo-goo eyed? Yes! I haven’t seen my dad look like that since…” Missy trailed off, thinking in her head, ‘since before my mom passed away.’

Artemis, who had made fast friends with Missy when she moved here a month ago, knew what she was thinking of. Artemis reached out and held her hand, giving it a small squeeze. Missy smiled at her in response and the 2 of them walked out to their parents.

Artemis looked at her mom and Missy’s dad and got an idea, “Mom, can we go get ice cream? I know that fighting is bad and all, but I was defending my friend.”

Her mom sighed, and looked at the two of them, with squinting eyes. She turned to Missy’s dad and said, “What do ya think? Think they’ve earned a treat?”

The Hero:

He looked at the kids and then back at Shade, who had a soft smile. “Sure. Why not?”

The girls cheered and rushed to the cars. “Uh. Pops on 15th St. sound good?” He asked.

“That place still exists? Damn,” Shade chuckled looking off to the side. “Uh. Yeah. Pops sounds good to me. See ya there in a minute.”

Marcus smiled, lightly biting his lip before making his way to his car, as Shade did the same.

Missy was already in the backseat, buckled up and ready to go. The drive to Pops was a quick 10 minutes, and as they made there way inside, they noticed Shade and Artemis hadn’t arrived yet, so they took a seat in a booth. Missy insisted that she sit on the outside, and Marcus complied with a shake of his head.

He heard the door opened and looked up to see Shade standing there and he was thrown back to all the times he took her here on a date. She was still just as beautiful as he remembered her.

The Artist:

As Shade stepped inside, she was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Pops still looked the same as it did when she was a teenager. She finds Marcus easy enough; he too looked a little dazed at being back here.

Her and Artemis go to join them, Artemis insisting to sit on the outside as well. Shade rolled her eyes and allowed it this one time.

The waitress came up and took their orders. 15 minutes passed and soon 4 milkshakes, 2 large and 2 kids sized in to-go cups, were set in front of them. The girls grabbed theirs and ran off to sit at another table, giggling.

“I feel like we are being set-up,” Shade whispered with a raised eyebrow.

“Possibly,” Marcus agreed, before clearing his throat.

“So. How.. How have you been?” He asked awkwardly.

“Been pretty good. I see you’ve been busy,” She quietly teased nodding to his wedding ring.

“Oh! Um. Yeah. But… uh… not,” He stammered trying to respond.

Shade gave him a look of sudden realization, “How long?”

“About 6 years. Cancer,” He answered lowly not wanting Missy to hear.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I bet she was wonderful,” She said with a sad smile.

“She was. Umm. Ahem. What about you? Ever get married or got someone special waiting at home?” he asked trying to redirect the attention off of him.

“Nope. Uh. Had a boyfriend for a couple years. He left the day I told him I was pregnant. So. It’s been just the 2 of us ever since,” Shade explained after taking a long sip from her milkshake.

“Then he didn’t deserve either of you,” Marcus replied, his voice soft.

Shade smiled, looking down to hide her face.

She cleared her throat and noticed out of the corner of her eye, Missy and Artemis were watching them intently.

“Marcus… I think our kids are trying to set us up,” She muttered. “Glance over at them casually.”

Marcus does so and sees the two of them trying to act nonchalantly but were very much keeping an eye on them.

He chuckled, “No. They’re just.. Concerned. They’re best friends who want to make sure we get along.”

“Mh. I don’t know. My kid can be quite devious. Her favorite movie is The Parent Trap. Well. Next to The Mummy,” Shade wasn’t convinced.

Marcus laughed at that and stared at her softly.

“Not gonna lie… I’ve missed you,” Marcus admitted.

“I missed you as well. Maybe um.. Maybe we can set up a day to catch up?” Shade offered hopeful.

“I’d like that, maybe Saturday? We can leave the kids with my mom for the day. We can… go to the park or that café you like so much? Well. If you still like it that is,” Marcus rambled slightly.

“I do. Sounds like a date,” Shade said confirming the idea.

They exchanged numbers and finished their shakes, before rounding up their kids.

She waved goodbye to him as they parted ways.

Artemis was bouncing up and down in her seat.

“Clearly, you are having a sugar overload, guess we need to work that off,” Shade stated, shaking her head.

“No. Just happy. How do you know Mr. Moreno, mama?” Artemis asked as they began to drive off.

“We dated in high school, and through a good portion of college,” Shade explained glancing back at her through the rear-view mirror.

“Oh. Why did you break up?” Artemis asked curiously.

“He was becoming a pretty famous Heroic and I was making a name for myself in the art field. We drifted. We hardly ever saw each other and when we did, we argued a lot. So, we figured it was better if we broke up,” Shade acknowledged with a sad sigh.

“But… you still like him? And he clearly likes you?” Artemis questioned, looking confused.

“Yes. I do still like him, and how do you know he likes me?” Shade countered with a grin.

“He stared at you like Rick does when he sees Evy,” Artemis said matter of factly, referencing The Mummy.

Shade laughed at how seriously she said that. ‘Kids.’

The Hero:

Missy looked at her dad and smiled at the dreamy face he was making.

“You like her?” Missy asked with a silly smile.

“I do. Does that bother you? Me liking someone?” Marcus asked worriedly.

“Dad. I don’t think mom would be mad if you moved on. I just want you to be happy. You work so much to make me happy and when you’re not with me, you’re saving the world. I think you deserve to be happy too,” Missy assured hugging him.

“When did you get so smart?” He asked, returning the hug.

“I learned from you, duh,” She answered cutely.

“Now you’re just sucking up. C’mon. Let’s go home. I have a lot of explaining to do for running out in the middle of a meeting,” Marcus said as the two of them hopped into the car.

“Also. I hope you know… I have never been disappointed in you not having active powers. You’re my daughter and I love you so much. Your power is far more special than being able to fly or run fast.” He mentioned looking back at her.

Missy nodded her head muttering, “I love you too. Thank you.”

The Kids:

That night, Missy and Artemis texted one another, concocting a plan to get their parents together. Their plan was slightly devious, but it was their parents own good. They just hoped it would work.

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 53- Rescue

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Grian is at the mercy of Dolios and his dark magic, but are the hermits there to save him in time? Or has the end come for the healing mage?

[Note: Hey everyone, I’m sorry for the time that was between chapters. A lot of really emotional and personal things happened over the past few months, and it just really pushed me off balance. But I really cant thank Red enough for being at my side the whole time- he’s the real hero in all of this. 

Happy Season 8!]

------------------------------------------------

To be back in the dark, cold bowels of the dungeons, willingly returning to the chamber that Dolios forced them to play his game in, left every hermit with a strange mix of dread and remorse. Almost every hermit, except for the few that weren’t around during the championship, can remember waking up in cells, being dragged from the hard stone floor at knifepoint, and turned into pawns for Dolios to control. Promising he will kill every last one in his game, and making TFC play along. 

But they hardly linger in the very chamber where their guildmaster outwitted the Magistrate of Lairyon, rather continuing on their search for a passage to the subchamber. Scar can feel the cavity in the stone beneath their feet, but no staircase seems to lead them down. It wasn’t until Cleo summoned the ghosts of those who died here, their souls lingering, that they are pointed in the right direction. So many souls, having seen so much suffering, not just from Dolios within these walls, though many are from his doing. 

A ghost guides the hermits to a circular room, and though their voice has long faded with time, their misty hands point to the center of the room. Mumbo kneels down. “There’s machinery here. If I just…” He places his hands against the smooth stone, and without even having to think, his magic appears. Redstone seeping through the seams of the rock, reconfiguring the mechanics and forcing the spiral staircase to descend. 

Everyone, including Mumbo, is surprised by his power. He’s never had such control before in his life. But they don’t linger on this new development. Not when time is running shorter and shorter for Grian. They cause a jam in the thin staircase, twenty something hermits rushing to the subchamber. Unlike the rooms above them, the stone is rough cut, no bricks or stenciling. It looks more like a cave blown open than a carved dungeon. 

A heavy weight wraps in on the hermits. They know they’re close as the pressure increases on their bodies. They follow the struggle to breathe, the feeling of carrying stones on their back. They’ve come to know the signs of a dark crystal well- and it leads them right to not one, but three towers of corrupted gems. 

They’re massive, protruding from the ground at an angle, black spikes erupting from the earth. The air is heavy with mist, swirling in tendrils, like the very tentacles of Eurynomos, way back in the forest. The mist grasps the open air, siphoning the very life from the stone and oxygen and taking it for itself. Every so often, a pulse of darkness bursts from the corrupted crystals, with such force it causes the entire cavern to shudder, and blows back the hermits’ hair and clothes. They all duck with each explosion, but one person remains standing, reveling in the energy that's breaking free from the crystals. 

Dolios’s fingers toy with the mist, grasping the air and feeling the power. With each eruption, the black seal between him and the central crystal glows. For a second, the hermits swear they can see the mist at his back look almost...feather-like. 

“Oh my gods… Grian.” Stress’s voice is so small, so quiet, the other hermits almost don’t hear it. But their captured friend’s name on anyone’s lips is enough to catch their attention. 

He’s grey, so monochrome that it was almost impossible to pick him out among the black crystals, the grey mist, and the dark magic. Limp body and hands, eyes open but unseeing, Grian is chained to the central crystal. Once blond hair, now an ashen grey, curls and crests over Grian’s face, his chin dropped to his chest. The hermits don’t breathe until they see him do so, but it’s a horribly shallow breath. Another wave of energy rolls through the crystals, and Grian’s body loses more of its color. More of it’s life. At this point, he hardly even reacts to the tearing of his lifeforce, his magic, from his body. Fingers twitch, but even those are beginning to turn flaky, fading away into oblivion. The tips of his once blue cape become little more than mist. Even the energy, the powers of the very atoms are being torn apart. Grian was very near death- or a fate worse. 

All for Dolios, and his insatiable need for power. The low thunder of every wave is broken by Dolios’s voice. He flexes his hands, laughing to himself. “Of all the angels I’ve stolen magic from before, it has never been this strong. Even Celia had nothing against you. I feel like I could blow all of Milliara apart with a windstorm this instant! Don’t worry, little bird, your magic is in good hands.” 

Iskall and Mumbo both scuffle to their feet, surging forward. Mumbo faster than Iskall. Too fast for TFC to grab him before he’s over the boulder they hid behind. And too fast to stop even his own magic from summoning. But it wasn’t the out of control magic that the hermits have seen before. Like destroying the crystal shard on Eremita, or in the depths of the Hangman’s Playground. 

No, even though lightning filled Mumbo’s vision, and magic surged through his veins like energy through a redstone circuit, he had every wit and thought about him. For the first time, he had true, full control. Every iota of power was at his command, like a dragon spreading it’s wings for it’s first flight across the sky. 

With a flippant wave of his hand, the twin satellite crystals shatter, red bolts of lightning creasing through the darkness-bound lattice. The air is filled with glittering crystals, mist freed from the quartz and purging it of the darkness. Mumbo turns his power, his attention towards the crystal that Grian’s chained to, and presses his fingers together to destroy the last crystal. 

He’s blown off his feet, a burst of wind from nowhere sending him skidding across the floor. When Mumbo gathers his wits and looks up, finally seeing Dolios through his anger, the magistrates is wild with manic delight. “Oh, now that’s real magic. I think this little bird’s powers might become my new favorite.” The other hermits dare to step out, walking through the shattered, transparent remains of the crystals. Dolios is the only color before them, his plush robes and rich colors standing out against the swirling magic. “Ah, the whole parade is here. Come to watch your friend die? Or will you all be joining him as well?” 

Dolios turns, resting his gaze on Grian. The hermits watch in horror as their healer looks as if he’s about to blow away in the wind. Like dust in the shape of a human. His eyes are empty, no glimmer of life left. They realize they may be too late. 

But that doesn’t stop them from getting their revenge. Mumbo remains focused on the crystal his friend is trapped against, but a sharp shard of gemstone goes flying through the air, cracking Dolios upside the head. Blood pours from the wound, matting the curly brown hair that crowns Dolios. He turns, anger mixing with the mania into a dangerous concoction. But his fury doesn’t get to live long, not when Scar drives a wedge of rock into Dolios’s jaw. This time it’s the magistrate that goes skidding across the rough hewn floor. In his attempt to stand up, Dolios becomes ensnared in just about every medium of magic the hermits can offer. Vines tie him down, radioactive spikes pin his clothes and hair to the floor, a ring of hellfire erupting from the depths of the earth. 

Mumbo, however, remains focused on his best friend before him. Summoning all his magic, every ounce of effort he’s ever put forth, he sends a bolt of lightning directly to the core of the crystal that is draining Grian. The lightning strikes true, hardly even raising a hair on what remains of the sky angel, but obliterating the crystal he hangs from. From the inside out, the darkness is banished by red light, like the sun rising red on a bright, beautiful daybreak. Blinding everyone within the cave- except Mumbo. He’s not lost in the light, the power, the magic. He’s a part of it all. 

The crystal shatters, and Grian falls. Crumpled to the ground, he looks to be little more than a pile of ash and rags among the sparkling crystal shards. Like the moon adrift in the sea of stars. 

When the hermits blink away their momentary blindness, they find Mumbo is already at his friend’s side. With a few teary blinks, the last of the lightning fizzles away, and Mumbo’s voice cracks like the very gems he destroyed. “G-Grian? Grian, wake up.” 

But Grian doesn’t move. Mumbo reaches out, grabbing the angel and pulling him to the safety of the hermits. Holding him close as the others surround. Ren reaches out, placing a hand on Grian’s shoulder. He retreats immediately, when Grian’s shoulder seems to fade from existence, flaking to ash and falling apart under Ren’s pressure. “Is he….” 

No one dares speak the word. Joe scribbles down a healing poem, but the magic does nothing. Grian doesn’t breathe, his eyes don’t blink. They just stare, empty, at the cavern roof above. And he continues to fade, all color lost, becoming nothing more than dust. 

“No, nononononono.” Mumbo’s words stumble and jumble together, and he shakes and jolts Grian as if trying to rise him from a dream. “Grian, don’t leave us! We need you!” 

Still nothing. 

Mumbo’s shoulders slump. A weight heavier than any dark crystal hangs over the hermits as Grian’s limp form lays in Mumbo’s arms before them. Tears threaten to spill from Mumbo’s eyes. Grian was his first real friend, the one who saved him all those years ago. And he couldn’t return the favor now. It was Grian that offered him kindness, offered him friendship. Grian who gave Mumbo a true family, a real home, who trained with him even when all seemed hopeless, and drank with him when nights were bright. It was because of Grian that Mumbo has a father in TFC, friends all around him. And now? 

Now his best friend was dead in his arms. Fading from existence, his magic and life stolen by a monster in magistrate’s clothes. Mumbo tips his head, breath stuttering as tears fall freely. Like a stream after a storm, rivers of salt water across his cheeks, cresting his jaw and running across the valley of his throat. Some droplets are caught in his mustache, others stain the collar of his outfit. All the hermits openly cry, even Doc. Memories flood alongside the tears, bowed heads over their fallen comrade as Mumbo holds his fallen friend tight.

One tear falls straight down, landing with a wet plop on Grian’s eyelid. Water, the lifeblood of Lairyon, slowly drips into Grian’s own vacant eyes. And from the ashen grey, empty gaze, a single vein of blue appears within his iris. 

Like a river, the blue flows freely, spilling across Giran’s sky blue eyes. Filling the empty grey valley with fresh blue water. And from the blue, like the sun reflecting off the see, a glimmer appears. 

Iskall noticed the color returning first. The pink of Grian’s face, sunlight colored hair beginning to renourish with color. Bringing Grian slowly back from death’s doorstep. He slaps Mumbo on the shoulder, his own breath gasping. Words struggling to break free from the nuclear wizard’s mouth, rather just random noises escaping his lips. 

It’s enough to get Mumbo’s attention, as well as every other hermit. Through teary eyes, they see the color spread. The red of Grian’s robes, the blue of his cape. The translucent, flaking form becomes solid and tangible again. 

And then Grian breathes. So shallow and soft, it’s almost impossible to see. But to the hermits, it might as well be an earth breaking tremble. Eyes blink, and parted lips move. A whisper of a voice breaks free from death’s grip. “Mumbo? Iskall? Guys?”

Grian can’t sing, but the words from him might as well be a chorus of angels. He was alive. Whether it was pure luck, the gift of life that water carries, or simply the friendship the hermits hold, something brought Grian back from the brink. 

Only one thing can break the joy. And that one thing has to open his mouth. From across the room, Dolios writhes in his bonds, snering. “Oh that’s just touching, isn’t it? If I can’t have it all, then I might as well kill every last one of you.” 

Doc realizes what’s happening first, but Dolios is just out of reach. A bout of strength that can only be attributed to previously stolen magic, Dolios tears apart the vines and breaks apart the crossed spears of iskallium. He stands, brushing off leaves and radioactive dust from his robes and tugging on his ponytail. When he opens his eyes, a crooked, crazed grin creases the leader’s normally charismatic face. “Do you really think such weak power can hold me down?” 

Wels reacts just in time to shield the hermits from the arc of magic that aimed for the group. Dolios doesn’t let up on his barrage, and the magical barrier begins to crack and contort against the dark energy. No hermit can step out from behind the shield without risking certain death. 

A wild, cackling laughter echoes off the cavern. “What will you roaches do without your precious angel now? Who will save you now?”

Wels’s barrier breaks. And Dolios attacks.

[caitlesshea]

build your heart a home

For the Roswell, New Mexico Big Bang @rnmbb

Tripp gives Arturo more than money that fateful day in 1987 and it changes everything. It’s the start of a new life; with three pods, three aliens, and three children. 

Or

What would’ve happened if Arturo adopted Michael.

TW: Mentions of Jesse Manes & Caulfield. 

Thank you @manesguerin for the most amazing gifset, check it out here!

1987 

Arturo Ortecho pockets the cash that Tripp Manes hands to him and is about to bring some dirty dishes back into the kitchen when a hand falls on his arm.

“Sir?” Arturo asks Tripp as he waits for the older man to speak. 

“Is there somewhere we can talk Arturo?” Tripp glances back at the table he was sitting at with Jesse Manes and Arturo nods his head. 

Tripp follows him through the kitchen and outside to the back of the diner. Arturo paces on the pavement as he waits for Tripp to speak. 

After a moment Arturo gets impatient. “Here, sir.” Arturo tries to hand the money back to Tripp but he just shakes his head.

“No, son. That’s for you.”

“Then why?”

“I need to tell you something. Something you’re not going to understand but I need you to believe me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Whatever it is sir, I’ll listen.”

~~~ 

“Woah.” Arturo looks at the three pods with small children floating in them and then back to Tripp. “You weren’t lying.”

“I wish I was,” Tripp says quietly as he goes up to the pod with a young curly haired boy in it. Tripp places his hand on the pod and then grabs the necklaces he’s wearing and takes them off.

“What?”

“The crash in 1947 was real.”

“So they’re?”

“Aliens. Yes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“A woman I was...she was his mother.” 

Arturo watches as he rubs the pod softly, almost like he’s petting it.

“This necklace was hers from before the crash. These are my dog tags.”

“Sir, I can’t take - ”

“You must. You’ll know who to give them to one day.”

“Why not tell Jesse, or someone else?”

“It has to be you. I can’t explain it, but Arturo, promise me. Promise me you won’t let anything happen to them?”

“Sir.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.” 

1997 

“Why’s it have to be so cold at night?” Walt complains and Arturo shushes him. 

“Stop complaining.”

Arturo gets a gruff sigh in response and Arturo shakes his head. 

“He could’ve given you a time,” Walt mumbles and Arturo walks further into the cave. 

It’s been a while since he’s seen the trio, he and Walt take turns to visit them to avoid suspicion. It’s just after midnight on June 14th, the date seared into his memory from Tripp’s talk ten years ago. 

“Woah,” Walt says as they come up to the pods and Arturo has to agree. Normally the trio is floating peacefully in their suspension, unmoving on their own, but now they’re moving and stretching against the pods like they’re trying to escape. 

“No.” Arturo stops Walt as he tries to help them. “Tripp was adamant they’ll come out of them on their own.”

“Fine.” 

Arturo watches in fascination as the trio breaks free from their pods, all wobbly on their legs like a baby colt.

“It’s okay,” Arturo speaks softly and holds up the blankets. 

The three of them eye him wearily but the young girl walks forward and takes the blanket. The other two seem to sense it’s okay and allow him and Walt to wrap them up in blankets long enough for Arturo to get them into the car and into pajamas.

“Did he say they wouldn’t speak?” Walt asks Arturo as they drive back to the diner.

“All he said was that they might not, and that they wouldn’t have any memories without someone from their planet there to help them out of stasis.”

Arturo looks in the rear view mirror at the three of them huddled together. 

“Great.”

~~~

“Arturo, you can’t take in all three of them.” Arturo looks over at Mimi, who had agreed to watch Rosa and Liz tonight since Helena had taken off a week ago.

“I have to do something.” 

Arturo looks over at his daughters Liz and Rosa, Mimi’s daughter Maria, and their friend Alex, who joined the sleepover and how they’re making the three alien kids more comfortable. 

“At least the curly haired one,” Walt says gruffly around a bite of his hamburger.

“Well it certainly can’t be the other two.” Arturo turns toward Mimi and raises an eyebrow.

“Look.” Mimi points to the way the kids have each grabbed the hands of one alien. Rosa comforting the young girl, Liz comforting one of the boys, and Alex comforting the other boy, the one with the curly hair.

“You don’t think?”

“He said it was possible.” 

“I’m going to call Michelle.” 

~~~

“You can’t be serious?” 

Arturo looks sharply at Michelle and suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. 

“We can’t just put them in the Group Home.” 

“You can’t take all three. What about Helena?”

This time Arturo does scoff. “She won’t be an issue.” 

Michelle looks at him then and he swears she knows the truth about Helena and her husband Jim, but he doesn’t dwell on it now.

“I can take the boy.” 

“The one with the curly hair,” Walt pipes up from his seat and Arturo nods. 

“I can’t take the other two,” Mimi says even as she eyes the young girl, something familiar in her gaze. 

“We can’t split them up. Look at them.” Arturo gestures to where the other two are huddled together even as his girls sit next to them. 

“The Evans’ are looking to adopt…” Michelle trails off and Arturo looks at her sharply.

“You think they’d take them both?”

“It’s worth a shot.”

“We’d have to tell them.” Mimi says from her seat.

“We can’t just…”

“We’d have to tell them Michelle. It’s the only way to ensure the kids' safety.”

“Jim can’t know.” Mimi reminds everyone and they all nod solemnly. “If Jesse…”

“Jesse will never know.” Arturo says with a conviction he doesn’t feel about Alex’s father, Tripp’s nephew.

“But Alex…” Walt nods his head to wear Alex is curled up with the curly haired alien and Arturo shakes his head.

“We cross that bridge when we come to it.” 

“They need names.” 

“Michael.” Mimi points to the curly haired boy. “Isobel, Max.”

“That just came to you?” Michelle eyes Mimi skeptically. 

Mimi shrugs unapologetically.

~~~

“So, not only are you telling me aliens are real, and the crash in forty seven was real, but these three just hatched out of eggs tonight and you want us to adopt two of them?” Ann Evans asks as she stares at all of them incredulously.

“Well when you put it that way…” Walt mutters and Ann turns her gaze to him sharply. 

Arturo sighs, well aware of how Ann feels about Walt, and himself if he’s being honest, but right now his biggest concern is the trio.  

“Pods.” Arturo pinches the bridge of his nose. “They’re called pods.”

“Whatever.” Ann looks over at Max and Isobel and smiles slightly.

“They are cute.” Phil Evans, who has been quiet since they arrived, mutters as he stares at the kids.

“Okay.” 

Arturo looks up at Ann and Phil, not quite sure he understood her and she sighs. 

“We’ll take them.”

“You understand…” Michelle trails off.

“Yes. Don’t tell Jim, don’t tell Jesse. Call the second they start showing any powers. They’ll learn English if we keep communicating with them and they like music.” Ann lists all of the things they’ve mentioned since they’ve arrived.

“Look. We aren’t taking them away. They’ll always live here, near the boy. If you’re saying they’d be in danger if they went elsewhere then I believe you.” 

Arturo nods, not entirely satisfied but willing to accept the circumstances.

“It’s fine by me. I have a friend who can do the paperwork quietly.” Michelle reluctantly agrees and Arturo looks at Walt and Mimi.

“What? I just wanted the boy safe.”

“He will be,” Arturo says with a conviction he doesn’t necessarily agree with.

“Mimi?” 

“I see no other way.” 

“Then it’s settled.”

2004 

“Papi!” 

Arturo hears Michael shout from upstairs and he runs up, out of breath as he stares at Michael wide-eyed.

“Mijo? Are you okay?”

“They’re floating.” Michael exclaims excitedly and Arturo sees some of Michael’s figurines floating in the air. 

Arturo watches as Michael uses his hand to manipulate the toys until suddenly he falls down and grabs his stomach. 

“Mijo.” 

“I’m gonna be sick,” Michael says just as Arturo grabs his trash can, thankful it’s close by, as Michael empties his stomach. 

“Okay. I think we need to call Mimi.”

~~~

“The acetone will help,” Mimi says as Michael sips it slowly. 

“It’s poison.” Arturo tries to take it away but Mimi is quicker.

“Not for them.” Arturo watches as Michael drinks it straight from the bottle and smiles. 

“It’s a pain reliever.” 

“Okay. So I just keep it handy in case things start floating?!” 

“Papi,” Michael says quietly as he moves closer in his chair. “I can practice at home, when no one else is around, so I’m able to control it.”

“That’s probably for the best. I don’t have enough of the pollen, and if it’s controlled he should be okay.”

“Should be?”

“What pollen?”

Mimi turns sharply to look at him and Arturo shrinks under her gaze. 

“You never told him?”

“Don’t look at me like that! The Evans’ haven’t said anything either.”

“Well, we better call them.”

~~~

“We can’t just take away their powers.” Arturo looks over to where the kids are all watching tv and sighs. 

“Look, Isobel’s starting to get visions, things she can manipulate.” Ann looks pointedly at Mimi as Mimi smirks. 

“Well, she’s my Aunt, so…”

“I thought we said we weren’t going to tell them,” Ann hisses at Mimi and Mimi shrugs. 

“We aren’t. Not until they’re older.” Arturo tries to placate them while Mimi and Ann glare at each other. 

“Max is showing signs of electro manipulation.” 

“Tripp did say someone could shoot fire out of their hands.” Arturo reminds them all quietly. 

“Great.” Ann rubs her forehead. “Well, right now he’s just shorting out our light bulbs.” 

“If we give them a safe space to practice then maybe they won’t accidentally use them around others and at school?” Arturo suggests and both Mimi and Ann nod.

“As long as they never get caught it’s fine by me.”

“We’ll just need to explain some ground rules.” 

Arturo doesn’t want to set the ground rules. He doesn’t want to hinder what is a natural part of them, but he knows deep down that it’s for their safety. He could never live with himself if he allowed something to happen to the three of them for his own carelessness in keeping them safe. 

“They won’t like it.” Mimi warns.

“It’s for their safety. I’ll help them understand.”

~~~ 

“Papi?”

“Yes, Mijo?” Arturo finishes tucking Michael in and sits down on the edge of his bed. 

“Am I in trouble?”

“No. Of course not. You just need to be careful about when and how you use your powers, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Arturo sees Michael bite his lips and he soothes it with his hand. “Just practice here at home with your sisters and with Max and Isobel and you’ll be okay.”

“And Alex?”

Arturo smiles at the mention of Michael’s other half even if neither boy has realized it yet. They’re always together, Alex spending the night more often than not any chance Arturo can get to pry Alex out of his terrible home.

“Yes, Mijo. With Alex, too.” 

Michael smiles so bright, his love for Alex clearly shining through, even at fourteen. 

It makes Arturo’s heart swell when he thinks of all of his kids and how they have their own alien and how lucky they all are. 

2008 

“It’s not fair and you know it!” 

Arturo pauses making dinner for a moment as he hears Liz yelling at Michael, presumably. Rosa is downstairs in the diner and he knows Alex and Michael are in Michael’s room, with the door open now. 

That was a fun development. Arturo had known they had made changes to their relationship, but it’s one thing to know, and another to see. 

“It’s not my fault I’m smarter than you, Lizzie.”

Arturo groans. Whoever told him raising three teenagers at the same time would be a good idea is a fool.

“Mikey!”

At the sound of nicknames that neither of his kids like he walks calmly into Michael’s room and sees Michael laying back against his bed with a guitar in his hand and Alex next to him writing in a notebook while Liz stands at the foot of the bed not so silently fuming. 

“Mijos? What is the meaning of this?”

“He didn’t study at all for our chemistry test and he still did better than me!” Liz screeches at a volume that is honestly impressive and Arturo rolls his eyes discreetly but not before Alex notices and smiles. 

“Mija, did he cheat on the test?”

“What? No.”

“Then you can’t be upset with him.”

“But, no!” Liz sulks while Michael laughs and Arturo turns a sharp glare onto him and he rightly sits back quietly.

“Mija, why don’t you go down and get your sister and Michael and Alex can set the table for dinner and maybe you can study together for the next test?”

“Ugh, fine!”

Liz stomps out of the room and Michael and Alex follow him to the kitchen. He notices that Alex’s eye has some form of makeup on it, probably covering a bruise. 

Jesse Manes, that son of a bitch. 

More than once he’s wanted to beg Michelle and Jim to take Alex away, and let him come stay with him. He doesn’t know how he’d manage, but he would, if he never has to see this wonderful boy with bruises on his skin.

“Mijo. Take these.” Arturo hands Alex some frozen peas and for a moment he freezes but then looks grateful. Even though Arturo has been helping him for years and he knows Rosa and Liz have both helped with the makeup it breaks his heart that Alex still feels like he can’t accept the help. 

“Thank you.”

“Help Michael set the table.” Arturo goes back to finish dinner but not before he notices Michael gingerly placing the peas against Alex’s eye as he leans in to kiss him. 

Arturo turns away to give them some privacy and just as he finishes pulling dinner out of the oven he hears Liz’s shout.

“Are you kidding me?! Papi!” 

“What, Mija?”

Arturo turns around and he can’t help it, he laughs at Michael using his powers to set the table while he kisses Alex. 

Teenagers. 

~~~

“I’m not ready for this,” Arturo mumbles as he watches Liz and Michael pack up the rest of their rooms so that they can move off to college. Michael is going to the University of New Mexico and Liz to UCLA. Rosa got into an art program and is still living at home, so at least it’s not all of his kids, but it still hurts.

“I’m not going far, Papi.” Michael soothes as he comes to stand next to him. Michael’s been vibrating with excitement since he got a full ride to UNM and has been floating on cloud nine since Alex announced he was also going to UNM, to absolutely no one's surprise. 

“I know.” Arturo waits for Alex to finish packing up the last box and he gestures them both into the living room. “I have something to give you both.”

“What is it?”

“Just sit, I’ll be right back.” Arturo walks into his room and grabs the box that holds the journal Tripp wrote for whichever Manes man fell in love with an alien after he did.

“Papi?” Michael asks curiously as he eyes the box Arturo is holding. Arturo takes a deep breath and hands Michael the box as he watches them open it.

“A journal?” Alex asks as he opens it and turns it over in his hands. 

“It was given to me by your great uncle, Tripp.” Arturo points to the journal as Alex and Michael both gasp. 

They pull a photograph out of the journal of a young Tripp Manes with Nora Truman and Louise Truman.

“The man is Tripp Manes, the two women with him are Nora and Louise Truman.”

“Are they?” Michael’s voice breaks and Arturo nods.

“Nora is your mother. Louise is Isobel’s. I’m sure Mimi is telling Isobel everything that happened with their own family history, just as I’ve been charged with telling you yours.”

“Their own?”

“Mimi’s mother is Isobel’s half sister. Tripp was able to bring Louise to the reservation where your mom is from, Alex.” 

“My family?”

“It’s how Jesse met your mother. Tripp tried to save Nora.” Michael’s breath catches but Arturo continues. “He wasn’t able to, and I’m sorry to say that she ended up passing in ninety seven, just as Louise did when you all hatched from the pods.”

Arturo hates the broken look on his son's face. Like he betrayed him. He hates it. 

All of the conversations and arguments over the years with Mimi, Michelle, and Ann sit at the forefront of his mind and how he should’ve fought harder for Michael. 

That they should’ve told them the truth sooner, knowing his son would’ve wanted to know, even if it was hard. 

Arturo thinks back to seven year old Michael, who was scared and crying when Ann and Phil took Max and Isobel away. Who wouldn’t let Alex’s hand go and wouldn’t sleep unless Arturo stayed in the room with them. 

He thinks back to all the nightmares Michael has had, of a planet long forgotten but still coming back to him. He thinks of the language on the ship console piece Michael found when he was fourteen and how he’s been trying to decipher it ever since. 

He thinks about how Michael is looking at him like he doesn’t know him. Arturo knows he needs to give Michael space. Knows him well enough to know that Alex will be spending the night and the door will remain closed as Alex whispers sweet nothings into his hair. It’s the least Arturo can do. 

“You can’t...why didn’t...you didn’t tell me!” Michael stands and screams in frustration and Arturo’s heart breaks for him, for Isobel, for Max, for all of them.

“Mijo.” 

“No!” Michael falls into him and Arturo pulls him into a hug and let's Michael cry into his shoulder as Alex rubs his back.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how.”

“I want to see her, wherever they’re resting.”

Arturo doesn’t know where Nora’s final resting place is, somewhere in Caulfield, no doubt, which he’ll have to also explain to Michael someday. But he knows where Louise’s is, and he knows Nora has a place there as well. 

It was one thing Tripp had been sure to tell him, one thing he wanted to make sure Arturo had understood. Wherever Louise was, Nora wasn’t far, and wherever they both ended up they would want to be together. 

“Okay Mijo, we’ll go.” 

~~~

Arturo is glad they went out to the reservation. It gave Alex a chance to see his mom and it gave Michael, Isobel, and Max more insight to their families and histories. He knows it won’t settle Michael’s curiosity. He also knows that they all want to find out more about Max’s family, as well.

But for now, his son gets to be a college freshman sharing an off-campus apartment with his boyfriend. 

Arturo is not ready to say goodbye. 

“Papi, they’ll be fine,” Liz says as she settles into his side. They head to California next to drop her off and he’s barely holding it together. 

“I know, Mija.” 

“Papi!” Alex shouts from his and Michael’s bedroom and Liz laughs as he goes to investigate.

“What, Mijo?”

“Tell Michael that we do not need to keep the chemistry set in the bedroom!”

“Oh, nope, you’re on your own.” Arturo backs out as he hears Alex’s indignant squawk and Michael’s laughter.

Sometimes Arturo thinks he’s being a bad father by letting them live together, but then he thinks they’ll end up spending all of their time together anyways and he doesn’t want them to have to pay for two apartments for no reason.

And then Arturo thinks back to how Alex calms Michael, how his music soothes him and helps him concentrate. 

His entropy changes, as Michael likes to say. Arturo knows Alex is the budding songwriter but he thinks his son has a chance at being a pretty successful poet if he ever wanted to. 

Arturo smiles as he thinks back to finding them behind the Crashdown in the back of Michael’s truck one night after a particularly bad fight Alex had with Jesse and how Michael had his head in Alex’s lap with Alex carding his fingers through Michael’s curls, just singing softly to Michael so he was practically asleep. It was then that Arutro knew there was no going back for either of them. That what they had would withstand the test of time. After all, Michael woke up at the right time to meet Alex. Something like destiny Arturo likes to think. 

But, they are teenagers, and teenagers fight, so Arturo just smiles at them as he goes to help Liz unpack their kitchen. 

Living together should be interesting. 

2018 

“I’m so proud of you, Mjio.” 

Arturo looks around at the house Michael and Alex purchased after moving back home to Roswell after ten years away.

“Thanks, Papi.” Michael smiles as they sit down on the couch, which is next to all of Alex’s music equipment. 

Alex is a successful songwriter, his career taking them all over the world these last ten years and Michael’s an agricultural engineer, something he wanted to do to honor his mother after he found out she could grow crops. 

“I’m glad you’ve all decided to come home.” 

Michael laughs and Arturo pulls him into his side, just like he’s still a kid. He thinks about how lucky he is to have all three of his children home now, with Liz getting a position at the local hospital and Rosa owning the art gallery in town.

“I am, too.” Michael looks around their home and smiles. “I am, too.”  

“You did get quite a big house.” Arturo hears the teasing in his own voice and so does Michael because he laughs. It’s not that Michael and Alex haven’t talked about having kids. Michael’s been talking about starting a dad band with Alex since they were seventeen, so Arutro has no qualms bringing it up now.

“How about we start with a dog before we start deciding which room to use as a nursery.”

“You said it.” 

“I love you, Papi.”

“I love you, too, Mijo.”

~~~

Arturo comes out of the kitchen and sees Michael slurping on a milkshake in the middle of the day.

“Mijo. I didn’t know you were coming by!”

“Can’t a guy just drop by to see his dad?”

Arturo raises an eyebrow at Michael, well aware of his penchant for sarcasm and Michael laughs.

“Fine, you caught me. I came to talk to you about something.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just...” Michael gestures upstairs and Arturo nods his head.

Arturo sits on the couch, well aware that Michael will tell him when he’s ready and luckily he doesn’t have to wait long.

“I’m gonna ask Alex to marry me.” 

“Mijo.” Arturo blinks away tears as Michael sits down next to him and grabs his hands.

“Papi, please say it’s okay.”

“What? Of course it is.”

“Okay, it’s just. He doesn’t really have parents I can ask, and he calls you Papi, so…”

“Oh, Mijo, I love you both, you don’t need my permission, but you have it.”

“Thank you.” Michael breathes out and Arturo pats his hands before he gets up.

“Where are you going?”

“Just a second.”

Arturo comes back into the living room holding a ring, a necklace, and dog tags that he hands to Michael.

“The dog tags were Tripp Manes and the necklace was the one your mother was wearing when they crashed here.” Arturo watches as Michael runs his fingers over both items with tears in his eyes.

“Papi.” 

Arturo thinks back to the conversation he had with Tripp out by the pod cave and how he wanted to see Michael end up in a good home, with a good family. And how Tripp wanted Arturo to make sure that happened. Arturo likes to think he did a good job. 

“Tripp wanted you to have them. He said you would know who to give them to.” 

“Thank you.” Michael breathes out as he looks at Arturo. “And the ring?”

“It was the ring he was going to give your mother.”

Michael looks at him, fully crying now, well aware of the relationship that Tripp and Nora had. Arturo pulls him into a hug and runs his fingers through his curls.

“He’d want you to have it. He’d also want you to make it your own.”

Michael nods against his chest and Arturo knows with a little doctoring it will be the ring Michael uses to propose to Alex with.

Two sons and two daughters. Arturo is one lucky man.

2020 

“Nervous, Mijo?” Arturo jokes as he takes over tying Michael’s tie for him. Underneath Michael’s shirt is the necklace he gave him a couple of years ago. The one his mother Nora wore when they crash landed on Earth all those years ago. He knows Alex wears Tripp’s dog tags, as well.

“To marry Alex? No.” 

Arturo envies Michael sometimes. His quiet confidence and how loudly he loves Alex is something that most people can only dream of. They’ve been inseparable since they were seven and Arturo brought the trio to the Crashdown. 

Isobel and Rosa got married two years prior and Liz and Max got married four years ago. Arturo will be a grandfather before the year is over and his heart is overflowing with joy. 

“I’m so happy for you both.”

“Papi, don’t make me cry.”

“Sorry, sorry, not yet, you’re right.”

Michael laughs as he hugs Arturo tightly and Arturo has never been more glad that Tripp pulled him aside in the diner all those years ago.

“Come, Mijo, it’s time to get you hitched.”

“Ugh, Papi, you’ve been spending way too much time with Isobel lately.”

Arturo laughs and ushers Michael outside to where Alex will be waiting at the altar for him. 

Michael and Alex’s backyard has been transformed into something out of a magazine. Small lanterns line the aisle, white chairs with greenery, and cafe lights hang above. Isobel has truly outdone herself. 

And at the end of the aisle is Alex, with tears in his eyes staring at Michael, who Arturo can tell is barely holding back his own tears.

The music starts and Arturo hears Alex’s voice waft through the outdoor speakers and Arturo gasps. 

“Did you know?” Arturo whispers as they make their way down the aisle.

“I knew he was planning something, but I didn’t know he was signing his own song.” 

It's you I'm fighting for

If I call off the battalion

Break my walls down stone by stone

Tear down my defenses

I can build your heart a home

And if I did

Would you come home

I still find my fathers shrapnel

Buried beneath my skin

But I've begun to heal in all the places your hands have been

Would you meet me in the middle

Could we both stop keeping score

There's a battle I must fight alone

It's you I'm fighting for

If I call off the battalion

Break my walls down stone by stone

Tear down my defenses

I can build your heart a home

And if I did

Would you come home

The song is beautiful, just like their love, and Arturo, along with everyone else, is a mess of tears by the time he hugs both Alex and Michael and sits down next to Michelle. 

The ceremony is truly the most romantic thing Arturo has ever witnessed, Isobel leaving no stone unturned, and it’s not until Michael and Alex are ready to say their own vows that Arturo realizes just how lucky he is to be these boys’ father.

“Alex.” Michael begins as he grabs Alex’s hands. “I think I knew when we met at seven that we were meant to be. I know you think I’m always coming up with these cheesy and brilliant lines to express myself, but I think when we met it was as if we were built from the same star drawn together by something cosmic. I’m from another galaxy and yet somehow you are as familiar as my own reflection. I’ve loved you, for a long time, and I will continue loving you, far beyond this world.”

Arturo has tears running down his face, recognizing the lines from Tripp’s journal that he gave to Michael twelve years prior. Alex laughs at Michael’s joke and Arturo notices that he squeezes Michael’s hands a little bit tighter. 

“Michael.” Alex responds, throat thick with emotion. “Together we could quiet all the noises, drown out the voices, and play our own song. I think back to when we were boys becoming men under the desert sky, and how I wanted nothing more than to spend my life with you. I knew then that you loved me, just as I know you love me now. You were the best of me. You are the best of me.”

Arturo is really crying now, along with everyone else and he wipes his eyes just in time to see Michael and Alex kiss as they’re announced husbands to the world.

“I now pronounce you married.” Isobel shouts. “Everybody cheer for Mr. and Mr. Ortecho!”

Arturo pauses as the name they’ve chosen sinks in and both Michael and Alex turn to him and hug him before making their way back down the aisle. 

“We love you, Papi.” 

“I love you, too, Mijos.”