#SHE KNOWS I'M FUCKING GAY AND YET SHE STILL WANTS TO TALK TO MR ABOUT GUYS!?!?

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

Substitute Teacher Steve Au

Delilah felt nervous. She ran into her little brother Paul in the hall because neither of them were looking in the correct direction...too nervous.

She hurried into her English class and grabbed her seat. The class's energy was off the charts. Everyone was chatting and gossiping.

"-sub! Can you believe THE St-"

"I just don't understand? Arent they fam-"

Uh oh. She thinks she understands now and pulls out her flip phone to type out a quick text to Paul to warn him. It's too late. He already texted her first.

"Code purple"

"Fuck."

"Language B!"

"Shit."

He laughs as he walks into the classroom. Someone slaps her shoulder as if they're trying to tell her "Hey! He looked in your direction!!!!"

Sitting on her teacher's desk is retired pop icon Steve Harrington. He lights up when he sees her looking at him and waves to her. He's waving so fast his hand is a blur.

"Del what the hell is happening?" Mandy, her best friend is looking at her expectantly.

"I-"

"Ok class! Attendance time!!"

'Adams'

'Andrews'

'Chase'

'Finch'

"Henderson!"

"..."

"C'mom B," he looks at her disappointed.

"Here," she grumbles.

A girl in the back raises her hand.

"Can this wait until after the attendance is taken?"

"Unfortunately not Mr. Harrington I just have to know, how do you know Delilah? Why do you call her B? I mean out of everyone we were not expecting you to be here for her." She says the last part kind of like a sneer.

Delilah knew she wasn't the most popular but she made a choice to stay out of the spotlight.

"Well...student-"

"Sam."

"Sam, I'm not here for Delilah."

Gasps went around the room.

"I'm also here for Paul!" His famous bright smile is shining bright. "He's getting his braces off today! Isn't that exciting! Gosh I remember when his dad got his off. Brings a tear to my eye."

Delilah sinks lower into her seat.

"As for the nickname-"

She shoots up, ramrod straight.

"Um Uncle Steve you don't really have to-"

"Now B it's nothing to be embarrassed about. When Del's mom was pregnant with Paul we told her that she wouldn't be the baby anymore. She was so frustrated that was the only name she responded to for six months!"

Sam pipes up again, "so B is short for-"

"Baby." Snickers went around the room. Delilah groans. "Obviously we couldn't go around calling her baby that's weird. So we shortened it, nickname. It also helps because she's baby Henderson, helps to distinguish the difference between them all."

Steve gives her a soft smile, like he's still imagining her as a toddler.

"As most of you may know I retired about five years ago along with my boyfriend." (Gay marriage was not legal yet but she's working on it.)

Josh's hand shoots up. "Your boyfriend famous metal musician Eddie Munson?"

"Yes student in the back, we decided it was time to retire and enjoy our time together. Then I got bored. I was always planning on being a teacher if music didn't work out so I became a sub. We have a house here to see the kids and I knew I wanted my first assignment to be one where I could see my favorite Hendersons."

Ok she can't be mad at him. She loves him so much and he obviously is just doing what he can to be closer to her.

"Uncle Steve-"

Uncle is whispered around the room.

"I appreciate you coming here but-"

"Henderson I'd appreciate it if you stayed after school to help me grade papers. I can give you a ride home. Uncle Eds is taking Paul to the orthodontist now so you don't have to worry about driving him."

Conveniently, beeping was heard outside along with the sound of a motor like an engine revving. The students all ran to the window to see what was going on and were shown Paul with his head down running to the convertible.

Poor kid. Everyone would be talking about this for at least a week.

Paul looked over at the window along with Eddie, when he saw Steve he blew him a kiss. As soon as Paul was buckled up he sped off.

Steve sighed wistfully and then headed back to the desk.

"Alright everyone! Let's learn!"

[cawdra]

Good question, @avvielalame-blog

GATHER 'ROUND, FOR I HAVE A STORY TO TELL ABOUT MY WEIRD HOSPITAL OPIOID TRIP THAT MADE ME HALLUCINATE NEW GOOD OMENS EPISODES:

Last year I went to the hospital. It was some cyst (idk the medical lingo), and it was painful af. They gave me some sort of strong opioid (again, no idea what the medical lingo is, but I think it was Buprensomethingsomething). Mind you, I was on antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds, but I hadn't taken them for almost a week, cuz I couldn't get out of my bed the whole time (before I eventually went to the hospital). I told them I was off that medication, and because the prescription is pretty old, they gave me the painkillers. TURNS OUT THE FUCKING MEDS WERE NOT OUT OF MY SYSTEM YET!!! So uhhh... yeah.

(If you don't know, mixing these two things can be very dangerous because they can raise dopamine levels too high or something, which is INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS!!! I'm a pretty large person, so this didn't hit me that hard (and also I was off the meds for longer than 24 hours), but if I was slightly less of a fatass and more of a responsible medicine taker, I might have actually been comatosed.)

Anyway, I was riding high that night. I didn't have anything else to do, so after seeing a good omens edit, my first thought was, "That seems gay. I'm in." So I turned on Prime and watched it all in one night. It's not like I was going to sleep in a ward full of screaming people anyway, so might as well make the most of it. The nurses told me to sleep, but I told them I wasn't sleepy, so they just gave me my antibiotics and, whatever else, took my temp and walked out. Did they care about the gay shit I was watching on my phone? No, they've seen worse.

Anyway, I watched the show, ugly cried for like an hour (harder than I did from the cyst that was torturing me for about a week), and then went to sleep at around 2 pm. When I woke up, I, as a responsible queer, decided to rant about it to my friends. After telling them all those things, one of my friends (who actually watched the show with his sister) said, "Are you sure the anesthesia didn't scramble your brain, cuz none of that happened lol."

When I tell you I was DEVISTATED!!! Literally a "You... you serious?" moment. Cried almost as much as I did at the ending.

Also, if you want to know: I had a dream about how the Ineffable Husbands teamed up with some nun (who was as much of a nun as she was a saint - only on a technicality) and they made her carry the Second Coming, which eventually got her kicked off the nunnery of whatever cuz 'These days, if you get pregnant as a nun, you won't be called ‘The Virgin Sarah’ or ‘The Virgin Linda’. You will be called ‘a common whore’. So much for being a virgin.' (Quote from my fanfic (and the weird opioid trip).

I don't know what the rest of the dream was because Mr. Party Pooper (aka my friend JK Juno ily (^з^)-☆) cut me off because I was talking nonsense.

Long story short, the painkillers got out of my system, I took my meds, renewed the prescription, and went on my still-on-going recovery journey.

Did I suffer two heartbreaks in less than 12 hours? Yes. Were they worth it? Eh. I mean, it inspired my fanfic, but wasn't THAT worth it. Did I enjoy my trip? No, I threw up, had diarrhea, and then constipation for two weeks.

I still get an awful surprise when I rewatch Good Omens for a specific scene, only to find out AGAIN that I was just hallucinating.

Moral of the story - don't do drugs and be honest with your doctors and nurses cuz you might actually die.

Anyways, TOODLES!!1!!111!!!

~ CAwdra

[a-random-person-on-the-interent]

CALLING ALL PEOPLE WHO DISLIKE THE LOST CITIES AND THINK THEY'RE SHIT

we need to make like a discord or something to talk about it, or like write essays which I think I'm planning on doing, because the lost cities is shit, I feel very strongly about this as a disabled person, and you might ask why would me being disabled have anything to do with it, EUGENICS and the Talentless and even how disabled people are treated by the narrative. Because didn't Keefe descripe feeling talentless people as being hollow and not quite complete, WHICH IS WHAT DISABLED PEOPLE (or at least people with Autism like myself) HAVE BEEN CALLED FOR YEARS. I really want a charcter to have been born with a disability (ADHD, ASD, EDS, down syndrome, Dyslexia, dysgraphia, ect) or for the series to recognize that being talentless is having a disability or even the series to recongize mental health conditions (PTSD, BPD, Depression Schizoprenia, delusions) like Sophie has all the symptoms for PTSD, and one could argue she's dyslexic with her not being able to read runes. Also back to the eugenics talk, eugenics in history have been useally used on disabled people, like myself. There are no LGBTQ characters which can be fine, I'd like some but it's not a big problem expect... EUGENICS. the elves soiciety is based on Eugenics meaning that if someone was gay or lesbian or aroace, they probably would be scorned if not it being banned to be gay or lesbian. What about trans people? well the lost cities seem to function on that they are perfect the way they're born, and if one is not born perfect (Like the talentless) you are socially exiled. The susicde rates must be massive there, but I doubt anyone will talk about them because they'll be shamed.

Let's not even get into Exile cause that is just Touture, and I'm not kidding solitary confine meant is torture, fintans cell tourture, I'm not saying it isn't effective cause it is. but the elves claim to be morally superior to humans than do that. Memory breaks would also count as tourture as you are breaking someones mind till they are practically dead. And we saw how that effected Aladin. What about the white room tourture they had Vesperia be in for centuries. there politcal system is fucked too, Cause a friendship is just as important as a romantic relationship so if they wanted them to be completey unbiased the councliers shouldn't be allowed to have friends or family, and that doesn't stop the heart from from falling in love with someone and giving them special treatment.

I think anyone with half a brain could tell you that feeding carniverous animals strickly vegan diet is bad, so let's move on to the education system and I'm 90% sure that elves are just lying about how much they helped humans, like I'm 100% sure that Mr. Forkle only thinks he inspired Loki, cause if you know any myths about him you'd know they are not similar at all well maybe aside from the shapeshifting like didn't at one point they say they helped them discover electicity, like eceletricity was ORGINALLY discovered in 600 BCE they at that time were probbaly still living among humans, like I'm sorry but you guys probbaly didn't help with anything and might've actually prolonged the process because you thought you knew better. and y'know what they probbaly haven't even gotten to the center of the earth yet which is 2,9000 KM down, but back to education, it's so heavily bias, that all the other speices that aren't elves are like what the fuck is this, this isn't how it happened, so my best guess is that it's full of misinformation. Y'know what I should make a skit of, "If I was in the lost cities"

[imzsuzsis-blog]

"I'm fucking gay" I said to myself sometimes louder, sometimes quietly, unfortunately I think several people heard the loud part because they were looking at me, especially Danny was running after me. "Lando, are you grumpy for saying that? Because everyone hears it.” "I am, and when we broke up I was even grumpier, leave me alone, if you want me to, I'm still pregnant with twins from Ollie." Ollie Bearman? What the hell have you been doing?” Danny stopped me from speaking, then tears appeared on my face and I ran away crying. ,,Lokiii where are you????? I want to go back to the fucking fucking hotel!!!!! I can not stand!!!!" I started hitting his chest shaking and throwing up again. "Relax Lando, there are only free training sessions with a break between them." ,, BELIEVE I'M NOT EXCITED I WANT TO GO BACK THERE I HATE IT HERE FUCK ME!!!!" "Deep air says I can do it in myself." "I can do it, I believe in myself, even if I carry two beans Jankó." "MR Norris, we need to talk about beans after training." "No, and I will not have an abortion, this is the final decision, sir." "If he plays for the suspension, then the game has begun." "I'm afraid, Loki, they're not only idiots, they're also strict and they give diets that are impossible or borderline impossible to follow, on top of that they constantly measure our weight and check how much we exercise every day, it's no longer sick, it's fucking pathological."

I leaned against the wall with tears in my eyes and could only scream at the top of my lungs. Leave it!!!! I won't get into that fucking car if they force me to do so at gunpoint." "Well, come in." "Will, Jon, no, these fuckers up there don't even know what I want or what I feel, so no, I'm going to have someone else take my place today and this year." "Leave him for real." "Dude, what will happen to me? We had such a good time together, but what about the photography?" "I'll take photos of the little ones or I don't know if we move to the new place, but the fact that I won't stay in Monaco is fixed." "Do you want to move?" "Yes, everyone has been obsessed with me for a long time, when they see a girl next to me, the tabloids say she's my new girl, when I fuck the boys I loved it, I hate being there." "We understand. Where?" Burying my face in my hands, I started to cry even more and shook my head. "I don't have the faintest idea where America might come into question, I don't know, New York especially Upper, Miami, Los Angeles, but back to England and Bristol and its surroundings or London, I don't have an idea yet, but it's far from there and from the people there."

The news made my fucking blood run cold, I went to see Lando through the journalists because he just said all this in public. ,,A thousand apologies... Fuck you Lando, you said everything openly, even what you shouldn't have!!!! Now you're going to be all over the headlines because of your breakout!!!! "Osc, who excites the bitch, fuck them, they need to know what a fucking little world Formula 1 is and what a fucking little puppet we are for them that they can play with as they please and like, they can suck my dick." We didn't even pay attention, but all the cameras took us and everyone took pictures of us, and even Lando gave them the fucking horse. ,,This is serious? You know you can't say." "Yes, fuck me, just like I'm tired of shit, I'm not acting anymore here, if that's what I want, I'll go to a fucking casting and I don't care how many weeks I am, I'll do it if I get in, okay, but no, as a child, if you didn't know, I was a child actor . Stupid child and I would choose this place over the shitty place right now. Get it.” I ran after him and slapped him. "You know, I was also a child actor, but now it's not about that, it's about what you said shouldn't have happened."

"Child actor, Child actor" I muttered to myself and looked for a cigarette in my back pocket, and for my lip ink, "mhhh Benefit is expensive but... How seriously did you take Oscar from me and throw it away?" Your good fucking mother!!!!!!” I took it out and imitated a fake kick in the ass, and he showed me how the hell you put on makeup if you can't see it. "Because if only you knew that I've been doing this since I was fourteen." ,,Landooooo fuck fourteen???? Are you screwed???? Good tests, huh?” I showed him it was full of liquid flavoring, it was undrinkable and the color was strange, it didn't smell like anything, but it did have a sparkle. "Liquid highliter and put it down, it flows very well." ,,This? It has bristles, but it's also cool." ,,That mascara and eyebrow gel, put my fucking make-up stuff down Osc this is fucking not funny!!!!! That's my contour stick, my foundation, concealer, bronzer, that's my fucking blush, that's my eyeshadow palette, and put it all down. Damn" "Good, okay..." I left Lando, who was just putting some cream on himself. "MR Piastri, where is his teammate?" "I don't know, I think he's already gone with him boyfriend, he has a date today, he said he went there, sir, I can't give him an interview, I'm sorry." I ran back panting with messy hair. ,,What's wrong?" "Fuck the fucking gossip press and they're asking about you." We looked outside and a good number of people gathered, none of us dared to go outside when ten minutes later we heard a knock. "I'm Loki, may I come in?" ,.Of course it is." "This is a fucking crowd, what the hell happened?" "I don't know either, except that some asshole asked me where Lando was, and I lied and saved the best and said that he was on a date with his friend, so I thought he wasn't here anymore." "Oscar, you bastard, we're going down because of you, everyone will know that me and Lando are a couple!!!" "Good, but I didn't tell you he was pregnant." "You wordy bastard Australian, can't you be like that?" "Get me, I'm confessing to them, you scumbags" I ran out angrily, slammed the door behind me and instead did everything against myself, kept my mouth shut, "I'm telling you he's on a date with his partner, leave him alone and on top of that, Lando Norris is gay, so he's not with a girl if they ask you idiots !!!!!” I looked in my phone and all the gossip sites were full of me, "Formula 1 driver Lando Norris is gay." I ran after Oscar, but I didn't really see spit anywhere, "Kill Oscar Piastri, you're bisexual or stupid!!!!" I felt Loki's palm on my back, bit my lip and killed him, "Fucking big scandal and it started as I predicted." "Yes, but I think we should go because I have a reservation at the restaurant at nine in the evening."

[bhaalsdeepbat]

last night's Astarion origin highlights:

It was Creche time!!! Taking the girlfriend to the creche !!! We had to leave the boyfriend (Gale) behind, but Astarion and Lae'zel wore matching ocean colors to go on a double date with Catha and Shadowheart. (Astarion wears black and red when matching Gale, now)

Astarion stole a bunch of shit from Esther then killed her when she realized he stole most of her inventory with the Cat's Grace he bought. Daddy Money Bags is currently out of money, but Mr. Meow Meow can pounce like a panther and steal whatever he wants.

Astarion just fucking going DOWN to the Gith patrol in Waukeen's Rest and landing, again, facing his romance partner. It looked like he was reaching out to Lae'zel while doing his saving rolls.

Astarion using his girlfriend as bait because Shadowheart and Catha went down, so he kept reviving Lae'zel, putting distance between him and the remaining Gith, and letting the soldier just keep focusing Lae'zel while sneaking around. He is a death machine, but we are still at one hit per round until next level up.

I like to think he was feeling pretty fucking tough after the Gith patrol. Like he was cocky going into the Creche. cocky enough I was not worried when he failed his initial persuasion check and aggroed the creche, but the game glitched so we had to F8. It was a vision from Selune to Catha letting her know if she let Astarion go in without guidance and eagle's splendor, they'd be FUCKED.

I get turned around in the Creche and went to the hatchery thinking it was the infirmary, but then Astarion was like. Steal. Steal Egg. Like it was a delightful experience for him. I had never seen Lae'zel talk about how happy she is to have the egg and like. That little peek at the fact that she DOES have her own wants and desires that are in opposition to the beliefs she was taught. She's disgusted by the whole birthing process, but raising the child? it's such a hopeful, happy thought. Astarion was kinda standing there just speechless bc she had been so rough so far.

Needless to say, the egg is in her inventory, now. She asked him to keep it close and dammit he isn't gonna let his girl down...not that he likes her (or Gale) or anything,,,,,,,,

Lae'zel and Astarion fucked !!! And then he was heavily encumbered the next day because the potion of hill giant strength wore off, but it was a very funny happenstance. but taking her to the creche (not even finishing up yet, just going there and starting stuff) was enough to get her to look at Astarion differently AFTER HOW HARD SHE FUCKING BURNED HIM

like this is the astarion origin where NO ONE wanted him but Minthara at the Goblin party, and now the two companions that AREN'T taken are vying for his attention (bc we only have gale, shady, and lae'zel XD)

Astarion trying to disarm one of the traps at the Creche, only for me to suddenly see his body go FLYING off the side of a ledge because the trap blasted him while doing the disarm roll. Lae'zel followed very, very shortly after....because it did the same thing during the roll screen XD when i say i was on the ground LAUGHING.

Astarion was very proud of himself because he thought he lied his way out of a fight with the medical lady inside the infirmary at the creche. The tools she went to get were actually child soldiers and it was a battle to the death. Lae'zel went down. Astarion shouted her name.

The lesbians (Catha & Shadowheart) got shit DONE. Astarion is the disaster gay and cannot get his shit together. Catha and Shadowheart literally saved his ass with the Death Shepherds bc of user error on my end but it worked really well from a rp perspective XD

like Astarion is literally like SHIT SHIT SHIT everything is always going wrong, but Catha and Shadowheart generally have it on lock. Like I will have him sneak around and start / end fights before those two can even get involved, but the higher level fights sometimes I forget to position better XD

I'm not sure if Astarion is going to end up with Gale or Lae'zel....or pull a wild card and go with Minthara once we find her again. like i keep bouncing back and forth i literally do not know what i'm gonna do until the moment comes

[wolves-etc]

thoughts on The Last Of Us episode one, largely in the order I had them:

[thoughts on: 1.2 | 1.3 | 1.4 | 1.5 | 1.6 | 1.7 | 1.8 | 1.9]

(I have some spoilers from tumblr, a vague awareness of the older gays & younger gays situations, and a friend's recommendation that I'd really like this show. I didn't realise how evocative this would be in a mid-pandemic world. the show quickly set me right.)

— all kudos and respect to mr "I have an opportunity to infodump to a crowd about disturbing fungal diseases and I am going to make the most of it." loses points for warning people about hypothetical future dangers while actively smoking at them.

— the views we get of the crowd and the host during the second half of his speech are interesting - they're so still, all rapt attention, while he's talking about humans made puppets. it's unsettling.

— and the visuals during the theme music? gross. the guy who recommended this to me is squicked out by fungus. I may have used the words "wetly unfurling" while confronting him about this.

— I'm struck by the apparent ritual of joel setting his alarm, sleeping through it or ignoring it, and having to be alerted by his daughter anyway. he's a mess. (<3)

— there's something very real and unsanitised about their home environment. sarah's presumably not the worst cook in the house, but still they're eating eggshell. there's takeaway in the fridge that tommy sniffs before having any (though I wish he didn't decide against it then put it back.)

— and joel's shirt is on inside-out. bless him.

— sarah and joel passive-aggressively siccing the neighbours on each other is bitchy and great

— the first glimpse of the unrest of the pandemic being someone visibly panicking, closing the shop, herding sarah out, telling her to go straight home? I'm trying not to do too much real-life comparing. but that's ouch.

— we have a dog!! a border collie!! mercy I love you I am giving you up for dead given the genre we're in but I very much hope to be proven wrong <3

— "three nails plus one cross equals four-given." please, please tell me people don't speak like that. lie if you must

— the mental shift from "that blurry old lady in the background needs medical attention" to "oh. oh this is a horror show, the characters just don't know that yet, oh no" was a fun one

— "and you were never gonna [get the watch fixed] for yourself" OH BOY

— it's functional depression vibes in joel and it's intense. he won't get the watch fixed for himself, and he probably wouldn't celebrate his birthday for himself either - I'd buy that the pancakes could have been more for sarah than him, but then she insists on cake, and he doesn't suggest anything he'd enjoy better. still, he seems willing to make an effort because she wants to, and that's nice.

— that moment, sitting down to watch a movie together, sarah falling asleep against him? joel's a mess, but he has a good relationship with his daughter, and that's refreshing to see. there's real love there.

— mercy is a very good dog and sarah COULD DO WITH MORE ANXIETY SLASH SURVIVAL INSTINCT, FRANKLY,

— and we get the first glimpse of joel being brutal and unhesitating when it's called for. the sense that he's already made a shift in thinking that sarah's slower to - she's scared, crying, not yet really believing that it was necessary.

— sarah in the back of the car being smart enough to put together - given what she knows - that any one of them could be infected. it's awful.

— "[they've] got a kid, joel." "so have we. keep driving." fuck

— (how must that feel for sarah? if she's the thing to be protected, it must be her fault.)

— okay the infected's too-quick movements and bird-like head tilts? very "inhuman software on human hardware." it's cool.

— this scene here, though. there's a lot here. they're saved, in the nick of time, by a soldier. the soldier receives orders that he has to double-check. joel calls him sir, says please don't, has to know what's coming. it's unfair and it's horrible and there's nothing he can do.

— and I had a lot of thoughts about that. about how the US military - quite aside from the huge wrongs it does to other countries - promises people to chance to do some good, and to be a part of a family, and betrays them on both counts. leaves its soldiers with trauma and no way to manage it. leaves them, perhaps, with chronic depression, in a job I don't even want to speculate about because neither the military nor construction work are kind to the body. it's betrayal on top of betrayal as standard. and it's cruel, very cruel, that the military betrays joel again here. (edit for reasons and for at least one "article" possibly lying to me)

— and it's a fucking needless way for sarah to die. fuck.

— okay. okay.

— we get this little reminder that the birds, the trees, the sunlight, they all keep going. no matter what goes on with humans. and I, for one, find that comforting.

— and that comfort is VERY NEEDED because holy shit it's twenty years later and joel barely even hesitates to throw a bound child's body onto the fire. (practical and brutal, when it's needed. I don't even want to wonder whether he's done it before.)

— he's still wearing his broken watch and he is very much not okay.

— tess is all steel. I'm a little scared of her as a person and I love her as a character. what the fuck are they both up to that they can handle criminal dealings like this.

— "I promised him you wouldn't hurt him, but I would very much like for you to hurt him." CLEAR AND TO THE POINT.

— no but that's a lot of fun though. clear communication, what seems like no real lies when she's negotiating with her captor, just a forthright attitude that's so easy to believe and a comfortable willingness to mislead him.

— "you don't have a fucking ear on your fucking head" would be a fun way to accuse someone of not listening

— "y'all talk it through, but please remember that I'm bleeding out." I LIKE MARLENE

— and here we see joel's fight response to trauma, which will, I hope, serve him well. that flashback was evil though.

— what the FUCK is the expression on ellie's face. is that awe. is that delight. miss, you're very fucked up, do you know that

things I expected: ellie being a murder child; joel being a traumatised badass with a soft spot for her. did NOT expect ellie to be THAT much of a murder child, or joel's soft spot to be that well-armoured. this is gonna be interesting to see.

and I didn't expect tess, who's interesting, and scary in her own right, and rugged in a way women aren't generally allowed to be in the zombie genre. this was a really pleasant surprise.

[falsebooles123]

New Year New Queer - Diary of a Big Ole Gay 1/1/2023

Hey Whores, You know what time it is. Thats rights sluts and slanterns its time to regale you with tales of gay but before that daddys sad and instead of giving you cummies or some gay shit like that he wants emotional validation.

(if one of my mutuals could just shove my face in there tits and stroke my hair thanks)

so um yeah basically I hate my job and I go to look at the fucking hours I get to work this week, and I'm screduled for four hours.

FOUR FUCKING HOURS.

there is in fact never a time and place were that is appropriate especially when this is not something that was forwarned.

the good news is that I'm gonna use my freetime to canvess the shit out of town and get myself a new fucking job. I don't deserve this shit and I deserve better. of course I still need to reread my employee contract because guess what dumb bitch signed a non-competition clause.

(this is what pops up when I type "It's Me!" so apparently I'm Henry Cavell. and I thought I couldn't get sexier)

in other news and entertainement I have finally recieved my self christmas presents which are Hollywood Babylon and The Celluloid Closet at this point I really fucking miss working at any my fucking other jobs because It is amazing how boring people are. like people look me in the face and tell me they go home and do nothing and dream about nothing, and have no ambition. That the world they see is colorless and joyless. that they crave no more simulation then through the bars of there cage.

Disgusting, I yearn to be free of the things that limit me to never loose my curiousity to do things because I can, to learn things because I can, to remember that while Nitcze was a total fucking incel and loser that there is a kernal of truth in "Saying Yes to yourself, instead of no to others". I've been feeling really limited in this job and its hard, hard to swallow my pride, to make myself small, to feel that I am only as valuable as the space I occupy and not the being that I am.

I am better then that job not because I am over-qualified, or that it is "Beneath Me". I am better then that job because the job asks me to be less then my potential and I refuse that mantle.

Oh wait isn't this shit supposed to be about movies or something lol oopsie.

Club De Femmes (1936) dir. Jacques Deval

from what I vaguley remember this french film was censored in america for being too risque and honestly I get it. This movie has a lot of fan-service, wear talking a lot of women walking around in the sluttiest outfits 1930s had to offer, (yes god yes), were talking men dressing up as women to FUCK, were talking human trafficking, were talking MURDER, were talking REAL LIFE LESBIANS.

(I was trying to find that clip from Cringe were she says the line but this will do.)

yeah this film has a lot going on and also it has like a bonified lesbian subplot shes not predatory, (at least by the usually standard), and out of all the gay films I've seen so far the character has this kind of internality, (is that the word interiorality???), that I have yet to see in a lot of these films besides mommy kink megee in Madchen In Uniform.

The Lady Vanishes (1938) dir Alfred Hitchcock.

so as has been established Hitchcock kinda just liked gay shit in his films. in this case some people have read Cadicott and Codswallop or whatever the fuck there names are as just sucking and fucking all the time as a gay couple.

This is a little teneous but it is a cute headcannon even if the actually film is light on subtext.

Speaking of which this is basically like if an agatha christie novel met a Mrs. Pollifax Novel so you know I loved that shit.

Rebecca (1940) dir Alfred Hitchcock

UGGGGGGH Laurence Oliver can fuck me right in the BUSSY. I just wanted get fucked and sucked by both of them they are so fucking hot.

So if you don't know why this is on the list. First go watch it we love it we stan, we have watched several very long podcast episodes devoted to how much the queens and the queers love rebecca.

Second Lets talk about mrs Danvers. Shes serving us a little school marm ala Madchen in Uniform and she is just horrible fond of the epoynmous Rebecca. And by fond I mean gay. and by gay I mean just that type of gay were your pratically co-dependant on your partner.

Yeah basically Rebecca was the type of bisexual demon that all those melodramas warned you about and Danvers was her SECRET LESBIAN LOVER!!!!!

Ben-Hur: A Tale of Christ (1925) dir. Fred Niblo

so Ben-Hur the OG, (I mean theres a short from 1907 but shut your whore mouth), is part of a growing list of films called, "The researchers personal bias read a lot of gay subtext into this film and/or they just wanted to fuck the cast". I of course am above said bias and yes I am about to publish my thesis on how the shark from jaws was a metaphor about how badly those three men wanted to fuck each other.

(there gays harold)

The researcher in question is our favorite gayboy Vito Russo who listed this as part of the filmography segement in his book the Celleloid Closet. I have yet to read The Celleloid Closet as I am still reading Hollywood Babylon but its next on my list so I will see if I can find better context for why Russo included it in his film list.

The reason why Vito Russo included this is that this film does contain a mans bare ass chained to a wall. Do we see this man elsewear, is he eroticized in his torture like in UN chant d'amour. .... no.

its just a naked guy and while I will say there is a little homoerotic tension between masalla and ben-hur and a lot of male nudity this film is pretty straight. Like objectively a cool film and a silent fim classic. but its not incredible queer.

(I didn't technically need to show you some ass but I just wanted an excuse to stare at a hot guy in the shower. because I'm a pervert you get it)

Whats The World Coming To? (1926) dir. Richard Wallace, F. Richard Jones

so this is just a role reversal comedy set in the future and it was honestly a lot of fun. We have these really out there fashion choices that are both avant garde and weirdly dated and its just a really fun look at retro-futurism from an era we don't normally get to see.

In the future of course we all get around on blimps and work in the blimp factory and also the gender roles are reversed with butch strong women taking care of there domestic husbands.

( I literally typed in Girlboss X Malewife. but you know what I'll except it)

This film feels weirdly reminscent of Bunholdes Lover by Patience and Sullivan, likes its serving Savoy Opera Realness. Which is weird because I have never seen any opera let alone the specific 1890s sylings of the comic opera but something about the use of pantomime and the costuming feels incredible emblamatic of that theatrical tradition.

I thought this was a surprisingly fun time and I had a lot of fun with what is honestly a pretty fresh take on the role reversal comedy.

Going forward the rest of the role reversal comedies we have are going to be a little less joculer??. speaking of which tonights film is going to be Glen or Glenda? A Cult film shot in four days supposedly inspired by real life Transgendererererererererererererer, (i'm being playful), Christine Jorgensine, the G.I Bombshell. I here that its something else.

[knbposting]

btw i love your headcanons for kagami's parents but if you don't mind me sharing my own hc - i always pictured the kagamis as a close, tight-knit family (of two because in my world kagami's mother died when he was about one) BUT i also think mr kagami is a workaholic who, despite loving his son very much, still has nannies and personal assistants looking after his kid because he's been On The Grind since his wife's untimely passing and The Grind keeps him from falling into true depression😩

It's also very funny for me to picture 9yo Kagami in his dad's office and having his dad's beleaguered junior assistant look after him for the day fhjshdjd But not as funny as his father banishing him to Japanese language school when he notices how atrocious Kagami's Japanese is because the poor boy speaks English at school and on the streets and his nannies are hispanic; I think one of the first times Kagami ran from home was in protest of the language school!

Again I hope you don't mind me sharing🙇🏻‍♀️ I'm just so desperate for the golden days of knb and my bestie is resisting my attempts to bully her into watching the show😔

tell your bestie i will kill every frog i see ON SIGHT if she doesnt watch knb with you again. IT'S ON SIGHT KERMIT

anyway that's so cute please!!!! please feel free to share any and all knb hcs with me i EAT THEM UP!!!!

i love how similar our hcs are for kagadad and then how they differ. the image of kagami lying on his tummy on the floor of dad's office with one of those finger skateboards, every so often telling his dad he's going to land this kick flip, and then having dad say "ok wear a helmet" even though he knows it's just tiny? that's dead cute ok. i love it

is the language school thing canon or your hc? i loooove it. also do not get me going but if kagami had a brain for language (which he doesn't at all but that's ok same i've done extensive in-depth language study across like 4 languages and i STILL only fucking speak english), imagine him also speaking a lil spanish... imagine an au where kagz is a linguistic god and a sudden polyglot outta nowhere

my dad hc is that his dad doesss love kagami, but less so for himself and more because That's His Son, you know? like he doesn't keep tabs on hobbies, he only cares about his grades so he can get into college (kagami gags in the bg), and then he wants grandkids (sort of so he can retry being a father because he doesn't feel like he's been his best with kagami) so he's always talking about GIRLS but kagami in my hcs is gay and has known this forever and is normal about it, but his dad is not :( alas :( but kagz makes up all sorts of excuses for his dad because they don't actually fight so much as just never see eye to eye :/ so i really love the idea that kagz sr is more involved with him i love it SMMMM

i make up for putting old red in the wringer by having aomine's family life be extremely solid and stable and he's really close with his parents. in my fics his mum is basically him, and i havent introduced his dad yet but i love him too :')

[billthedrake]

BIG DADDY (PART ONE)

(This is a story is a little departure from my normal, with bisexual content. It's inspired by @pagespermer and his writing - thanks, man.)

I almost couldn't bring myself to admit to Cheryl, and I had a hunch it could mean us breaking up. But we'd had an amazing date night. Dinner. Hot sex. Some cuddling afterward. Staying up late, just talking, sharing more of ourselves. We'd been doing a lot of that lately.

The topic had drifted to a kind of "I never" where we described our fantasies and turn offs. "If I'm honest," I said. "I'm bi probably. I mean, I don't embrace that label, but I've had sex with guys a few times."

I thought my girlfriend might be shocked. Cheryl Bryant came from a conservative Texas background and still was very much that sweet, pretty, very traditionally feminine Southern girl. Always wearing make up and having her hair perfect and wearing clothes that flattered her figure and big boobs. It was kind of opposites attract, I suppose, but I had to admit I liked a woman who put in that extra effort to be attractive.

"I thought you might be one of those boys with secrets," she giggled playfully. I guess she wasn't freaked out. Her painted nails drifted closer to my soft cock. It might take a little while before I was ready for round two, but she loved teasing me. "Leave it to a big strong lacrosse jock to be open to play with other men."

I felt relieved. I turned onto my side and faced her. That bobbed hair was still perfect, and her tits were better than any porn star's. I ran my hands along her smooth stomach, caressing her soft skin. "I'm not open to it," I asserted. "Not now. I'm dating you," I reminded her.

"Good answer," she replied.

"What about you?" I teased. "What secrets does a pretty Southern girl like you have?"

She gave me a Mona Lisa smile. "I guess you'll have to find out sometime." Seeing my annoyed look she added, "I do enjoy watching gay porn."

Color me surprised. I had no idea Cheryl even had any interest in porn. Honestly I hadn't met a girl who wasn't somewhere on the spectrum between indifference and total disgust when it came to pornography.

"Yeah?" I asked.

She nodded. "It's wild to see what those guys get up to. They're just so INTO it, you know?" The fact it was her iced tea-sweet Texas drawl saying it just made her admission seem crazier.

Then reaching down she cupped my dick, massaging it softly in her hand. "I'll let you know this... I want my lacrosse player boyfriend to fuck me hard."

I was firming up, quickly. We kissed and slowly felt each other's bodies. But it was clear we were moving from the cuddling to the fucking again phase of the evening. Finally I got between her spread legs and mounted her, doing my best to give her the hard fuck she'd asked for.

***

I knew things were getting serious between us. I invited Cheryl to Jersey to meet my folks. And the following month, I was going down to Texas.

I liked her family. I didn't think I would that first day. I mean, her mother was on the meek side and seemed to be overly subservient to her husband, Cheryl's dad. Mark Bryant was a typical small-town patriarch. Owned his own business, a pool supply company that was the biggest employer in the town. The Bryants weren't full-on rich by North Jersey standards, but they clearly had wealth - a big house that was on the verge between McMansion and actual Mansion - a huge yard, big pool, the whole works.

Anywhere we'd go out, people would address come up to Mr. Bryant, like he was royalty holding court. Or the town mayor. Lots of yes sir, no sir, Mr. Bryant. The man was a big guy, too, 6'5" almost stocky, ex-football jock, and he carried himself in a way that said he expected others to be deferential. As a North Jersey suburban kid, it seemed funny, yet kind of rubbed me the wrong way.

Thing is, though, by the second day, Mr. Bryant and I got along great. He took me aside, and told me how thrilled he was that Cheryl met a good boy with a real head on his shoulders. We talked business and my plans after graduation. We joked about my lack of interest in Big 12 football.

When we left after three days and went back to Durham, I knew that if I married Cheryl, I was marrying into the Bryants. So it wasn't a surprise when three weeks before graduation, when Cheryl and I were having a conversation about our future, she asked if I'd consider moving down to Texas.

"You serious?" I blurted out.

"What's wrong with Texas?" she asked defensively.

I mean, plenty, but I wasn't going to say that. "Nothing, babe. It's just I guess I hadn't thought of it."

She nodded with an understanding look on her face. She knew I was a Yankee and might need convincing. "I've thought it out... Round Rock is only thirty minutes from my parents. We could get a job in Austin, or there's plenty there too... And I'm sure Daddy could help find something. He's got connections."

*I bet he does* I thought snarkily.

But truth was, I didn't have any other plans and had felt in a holding pattern trying to figure out what to do after graduation. I had a business degree and part of me itched to move to NYC and make a go of it. But I knew Cheryl would never go for that plan, and I knew I wasn't ready to break up with the nicest, hottest, sexiest girlfriend I'd ever had.

"I'll think about it," I conceded. "Serious."

"Thanks, honey," she smiled as she kissed me. Then I watched as she got an impish smile on her pretty girlish face and started undoing my belt.

I laughed nervously. "What are you doing?"

She seemed to enjoy the element of surprise. "When have you ever turned down a blowjob, Nick?"

She had me there. Cheryl was the best at giving them, better than any girl I'd ever dated. I leaned back and watched her fish out my hardening cock, then take me into her mouth.

I should have been more concerned that she was using sex to get her way. There were a lot of red flags, to be honest. But I guess you don't think about them when you're getting head.

***

The first three months were great. Like a honeymoon. We'd waited until Fall to move, and I was glad to have avoided the summer. As a Northern boy, the mild October and November was something I decided I could get used to.

Cheryl and I got our place together and enjoyed settling in. Her folks came over to visit every other weekend, and sometimes we'd hang out with her older brother Dan and his wife. I liked them, too. Dan was a few years older than me. He'd played football in college and had moved back to enter the family business. But whereas Mark Bryant could throw his weight around with other people, Dan was just a nice guy, affable and a bit of a jokester. His wife Courtney was just as sweet, and they both had that younger-person energy that made it fun to hang out with them.

Courtney was pregnant with their first child, and it was cool to see how Cheryl got into talking about it. We'd discussed our values and our future, and while we didn't want a lot of children, we knew that a family was in our future.

Cheryl was much closer to her family than I was to mine. But it was all good. I enjoyed the company and having a connection to this place we'd moved. And I basked in the clear approval Mr. Byrant, Mark, had for me. I was the outsider, but the family had made me one of theirs, already.

"I'm glad you didn't take me up on my offer to set you up with a job," he admitted when it was just us on the patio enjoying beers while the women cleaned up after dinner. I'd told Cheryl I didn't expect that kind of relationship, but she just gave me a giggle of a smile. "It's no trouble, hon. I'm happy to help Mom out."

"I appreciate the offer, sir," I now said to her dad.

"Mark," he corrected.

"I appreciate the offer, Mark... I just wanted to make it on my own, you know."

He gave me a knowing grin and clinked his long neck against mine. "You're a real man, that's why," he said. "But the offer still stands if you ever need it. I don't want my baby girl to ever go without."

"She won't, Mark," I said proudly. "She's pretty driven, too." I didn't want to be passive aggressive, but I wanted to remind Cheryl's dad that Cheryl was no longer a "baby girl."

"Just wait till the first baby comes," he said. The words shocked me but just then, Cheryl came bounding out, a dish towel on her shoulder. "The men ready for dessert?"

I was starting to wonder if the patriarchal thing ran deep in the Bryant family.

****

At least I got majorly laid that night. We went at it twice. We were still in the honeymoon phase in the bedroom, too. Cheryl had a way of keeping me on my toes, asking for sex when I least expected or being more adventurous in bed.

She even let me fuck her ass, which was incredible.

If it had been any other woman, I might have thought she was acting, you know, slutty, but my girlfriend had this sincerity and innocence about her. It was having the best of both worlds, a sex vixen and a girl next door.

I knew it was soon, but I started shopping for rings. And I took a moment alone with Mr. Bryant to broach the subject.

"I'm thinking of asking Cheryl to marry me," I said.

He looked me over sternly. "And you want my blessing."

Well no, you controlling sexist, I thought for a second. But then, maybe I did. "It would mean a lot to me," I admitted.

He looked at me with a look that I thought was derision. Like I was unworthy for his Special Princess. Then he broke into a big smile and clapped my shoulders. "You son of a gun. I can't think of a better husband. Welcome to the Bryant family."

"She hasn't said yes," I laughed nervously. I was happy though that Mark was on board.

"She'll say yes," the man said confidently.

***

She did say yes. It was a dream proposal. Fancy restaurant in Austin. Me sweating bullets until I finally got the nerve to get down on a knee and pull out the box. An excited yes and clapping from the whole place.

I was on cloud nine. And Cheryl was too. Thankfully she wasn't a bridezilla but she seemed to enjoy thinking about and planning the wedding. I was happy to give her that pleasure.

And we were fucking like bunnies. Seriously, Cheryl's sex drive inspired me to be the best man possible. I worked out extra, I read books on sexual technique, I doubled down on the foreplay. We were two 24 year olds in the prime of our sexual lives. Life was good.

That's why I was blindsided by the turn of events. Her parents were spending more time with us - us at their place or them coming to Round Rock. They had a big engagement party where seemingly half the town came. I didn't like the idea of the way Mark seemed to be parading Cheryl as a kind of trophy, but she was in her element. Like a debutante. Glowing, happy. I decided, like I often did these days, to get past my uptight Jersey instincts.

It was the following Saturday when Mr. Bryant came over for dinner. No Mrs. Bryant. Just Mark. It was normal conversation otherwise, lots of business talk, lots of small talk. Without her mom there, we laid low on the wedding planning discussions. I was relieved to have a break, actually.

We sat in the living room after. Cheryl offered to get us another beer. I wasn't crazy about the way she'd all of a sudden turn into some 50s housewife the second her Daddy came around, but if I was honest, I enjoyed the service and attention.

I was surprised to see Cheryl hand me my beer then go sit by her father in the opposite loveseat. I mean, RIGHT by her father, kind of snuggling up next to him, her soft hair on his meaty chest and shoulder. He put his arm around her affectionately.

"So glad my baby girl's here to stay," he said. That kind of syrupy Southern drawl that used to seem laughable to me. Now it was just Big Daddy's voice.

Cheryl nodded softly then lifted up her head just a little to look over at me. An almost dreamy expression on her face. "You need to know, Nick," she said softly.

"Know what?" I asked.

With a determined look, she reached down and gripped her father's crotch. Holy hell. What the fuck?!

I expected some shocked reaction from Mr. Bryan but instead he looked down to where Cheryl's manicured hands massaged the lump in his jeans into a full, meaty erection, his hand softly caressing her shoulder.

My fiancee's fingers were now undoing her dad's jeans and pulling down the zipper.

"Babe, you're not going to..." I started.

She was. Her fingers reached in and pulled out her father's dick. It was long and thick and I shuddered as I realized Mark Bryant was hung like a fucking stallion. And that it turned me on.

This was nasty and wild. It was incest, my girl's fingers openly stroking her dad's dick. The two of them almost in a trance. A ritual. They'd done this before. That idea made my heart pound even harder.

I got confirmation of that when Cheryl leaned down and started taking her father into her mouth.

"Oh that's it, Princess. Suck Daddy's cock. My good little girl." He leaned back, tossing head back in pleasure with a soft grunt of "oh fuck!" then looked back down at his daughter fellating him. Lovingly he stroked her hair while she sucked him off. He was getting real worked up, but still he let her do the work.

Finally his head raised and his eyes locked on mine. A challenge. A warning that I didn't need to interpret. This was going to go on. With me in the picture as Cheryl's husband, or without.

"Oh baby, Daddy's coming... oh fuck!"

And like that Cheryl started moaning around his cock and doing her best to swallow a heavy load. She almost succeeded but coughed up a bit of his sperm at the end.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked, exasperated and more than a little mad that I had a raging hardon from watching the taboo act.

Mark's face was flush red from the orgasm as he stuffed his spent dick back and redid his jeans. "You need to know where you stand if you marry my girl," Mr. Bryant said matter of factly.

Why the hell couldn't Cheryl answer for herself? Instead, she just nodded gamely. I could see the sweep of contrite guilt in her face, battling with the clear resolve she had to continue her incestuous affair.

"Sorry, Nick, that's just how it is. Daddy comes first."

Mr. Bryant had a grin that made me want to punch him. Hoisting his big frame up, he stood tall in our living room as he casually rearranged his sated genitals. "You two have a lot to talk about, so I'll let you at it," he said. Turning to his daughter, he said, "See you next week, Princess?"

"Yes, Daddy," Cheryl practically giggled then met him for a kiss.

The blow job was crazy enough before to see a real French kiss between father and daughter was mind blowing. I was hurt and confused, but I was turned on, too. This was like porn, times hundred.

I wish I could say I had the balls to walk out that night. I wish I could say we talked things over like rational adults. Instead, we fought. Our first real fight. Emotion bubbling up. The more we yelled the more I realized it ran deep. Cheryl was in love, actually in love, with her asshole of an old man.

I slept on the couch that night, still stewing in anger. I thought over options. Movers wouldn't cost that much, and most of the stuff we had was shit Mr. and Mrs. Bryant bought for us anyway. It would mean breaking off the engagement, but I was lucky I'd found out before the wedding.

I drifted off and awoke in the middle of the night to Cheryl riding me. My mesh shorts gone and Cheryl wearing nothing under her nightie. Just riding me up and down, cowgirl style, using her hips to work my cock. It felt amazing and as if on autopilot, my hands found her soft thighs to hold and caress.

"Fuck me, Nick," she hissed. Maybe she was trying to show me the affair with her dad wouldn't get in the way of our sex life. Maybe she was just a nympho beneath that Southern Belle exterior. I didn't care, she was leading me around by my dick as always.

"Fuck, babe," I hissed, now pumping up into her. Not rough, but a rigorous fuck thrust.

"Daddy's a good man," she said, feeling my cock punch in more quickly.

What the fuck? Why did she have to bring him up? "Fuck," I grunted in annoyance.

"He'll let you suck him, too," she said.

Those words shocked me to my core. Shocked me and did something to my nuts. Supercharged them. Made me want to cum. "God," I grunted, picturing my lips wrapped around Mark Bryant's huge cock.

"You want that, hun? Want Daddy's big cock? He'll fuck you with it too."

That did it. I rolled Cheryl over and just started ramming my prick in and out of her cunt.

"Yes!... yes!... yes!" she purred, like a frickin porn slut. It just egged me on. I went harder, trying to expel every fantasy of Mark Bryant out of my head. Until I came.

Her nails dug into my back softly when I collapsed onto her sweaty body.

And for the first time that evening, I kissed her lips, the very lips that had sucked her dad earlier.

****

I wouldn't say I was OK with it, but the next time we went over for dinner, I volunteered to help Cheryl's mom with the dishes. I was curious if they'd be so brazen to take the opportunity, but Mark didn't miss a beat.

"I got something to show you in my study, Princess. Got a minute?"

"You know I do, Daddy," she replied. And like that, they were walking off to fuck.

I knew from the flushed look on their faces when they returned they'd done the deed, but I didn't know what exactly had happened. I took a look at Mrs. Bryant's face, her kind middle-aged married Southern woman face, which was oblivious to everything. Until I noticed a slight turn of her lip that gave it away. Fuck, she knew. She knew her husband was fucking the daylights out of their daughter, in their house, under their nose.

Well, I had no idea about how hard Mark Bryant fucked, but jesus.

I was seething inside, but also turned on. And Cheryl was in a great mood, coming over to me, being extra affectionate, almost thanking me for letting her get away with this.

And Mr. Bryant was all business, talking over investments, like he wanted my advise even though I knew he had a guy for that and would probably do his own damn thing anyway. He had the content happiness of a man who'd just fucked, cheeks flushed, his thick muscular body visibly relaxed.

"Why don't I come over Saturday and help you with that gutter?" he offered. Our house had a gutter that needed fixing. Probably not a two-man job but some help would be nice.

"That'd be great, Mark," I said, trying to hide my own blush as I realized what was going to go on when he came.

Cheryl kind of rubbed my strong bicep in a flirty manner. "I'm getting a little tired... and you have work tomorrow..."

I laughed. "Guess that's my cue," I joked. "We should be heading back. Thanks again Helen," I said to Mrs. Bryant. "Dinner was great as always."

"Anytime," Mark answered for her, but I could tell his wife appreciated the compliment.

"Let's talk tomorrow, Cheryl, about the florist arrangements," she said to my fiancee.

We bid each other good night, and despite the weirdness of the circumstances I found myself in an OK mood. I guess if I'd been really upset I would have left that first night, or the morning after. Something made me stick around. For all it's fucked-up-ness, watching a daughter suck her father off was crazy hot. If it hadn't been my fiancee, I would have found the scenario a crazy hot, real-life porn show.

Since Cheryl was my fiancee, it was a hell of a lot more complicated than that. Particularly when we got ready for bed. Me in my normal boxer briefs, lazily checking my phone in bed while Cheryl got ready. One drawback of having an overly pretty Southern girlfriend is the amount of time she takes getting ready, not only in the morning, but each night for bed.

But damn, she was beautiful when she walked out. Hair perfect, still had some of her make up on. But the big surprise then was seeing her in a lacy lingerie piece she'd bought herself as a birthday present to me last year. Lace bra that pushed up her big tits, garters and stockings on her creamy legs. And no panties to hide her trimmed bush and sex mound.

My cock was hard instantly. "Damn babe," I hissed, a smile appearing on my face as I watched her saunter toward me on the bed and crawl on, her cleavage showing off for me.

The thing was, Cheryl took a while to warm to anything kinky or playful in the bedroom. Striptease, verbal sex, and roleplay wasn't her thing. At first. But she gradually warmed up to it, saying I made her feel comfortable pushing the envelope.

She was pushing it now, sliding her warm, soft body up above mine. "You been a good boy?" she purred like a porn actress, only with more conviction. He manicured hand reached down and grabbed my hard dick through my briefs. "Is my good boy gonna fuck me hard tonight?"

"God yeah," I growled, reaching up to run my hands along her soft trim waist. I could smell her perfume. Before Cheryl I didn't think I liked women who wore a lot of perfume. Now it was an aphrodisiac. The thought occurred to me that she was doing this as some messed-up thanks for me putting up with the incest. I didn't fucking care, though. I was turned on to see my sex kitten in full heat.

Now her fingers traveled up my ripped abs. "You've been hitting the gym extra hard haven't you, babe?" she grinned. "My big strong sex machine." This was one area I had over Big Daddy. A trim, fit, young Men's Health-worthy body. I put a lot of work into it and was proud of it.

My egotism was interrupted by the feel of Cheryl pulling my waistband down, over and above my rigid cock. Just watching her do this simple act, wearing her sexy-slutty lingerie, gave me a surge of excitement and adrenaline.

With a surprise move, I lifted her up off my body and playfully tossed her down on the bed beside me, quickly getting into a mounting position on top of her as she giggled in surprise. I pretended like I was gonna pounce on her but slowed my movement to kiss her softly. I could feel the sexual excitement in her body beneath me. Her legs parted and I humped my cock against her mound as we made out.

Finally, I pulled off and went to her tits, motorboating them a little for show, but mostly because I loved being buried in those soft pillowy mounds. Then I continued down, planting kisses along her bare stomach. I loved that Cheryl wasn't stick thin like a lot of girls I knew. She was in shape but she had a normal woman's curves, and the belly had a gentle swell to it as I made my way down.

She knew where I was going. "Eat my pussy, Nick," she gasped, seconds before my tongue touched her labia, circling around before dipping in further.

I loved eating out a woman, and I had to credit my love of oral for my success with Cheryl. I loved it as the main event, loved it as foreplay to a nice fuck. It was going to be the latter now, but I went wild at her spread cunt, licking and munching.

Until I tasted it. I smelt it first, actually, that telltale bleachy-floral scent, but a second later, there was the salty-sweet flavor of a man's cum. Mark Bryant's.

Fuck, that drove me wild. I started drilling my tongue in further, trying to get every drop I could. It was nasty and obscene. The semen of the man who would be my father-in-law if I could keep from freaking out from the situation. If I could put up with the fact that Big Daddy had first dibs on his baby girl's cunt.

Mr. Bryant had deposited a heavy load and I had plenty to suck, taste, and swallow. Cheryl was going wild now, clawing at my face, neck and shoulders and she had a big orgasm. I don't know if it was just my oral treatment getting her there or if she got off on the nastiness of me eating her father's seed.

It was my turn now. I quickly slid up on top of Cheryl and mounted her. I wasn't rough or brutal but I didn't take my time shoving my cock into her. She was worked up, and I was WAY worked up. I began thrusting with hard jackrabbit thrusts.

"YES!" she cried, wrapping her legs around my waist as I nailed her.

I knew this was one thing I had on Mr. Bryant, too. My sheer athleticism. He was a strong man, but I was in my prime. I used my well-honed body the best I could. Rocking rhythmically, using my abdominal strength, really going at it.

I could sense, or maybe just imagine, remnants of her dad's cum still inside that pussy. Lubing my cock. The idea made me cum.

"Oh fuck!" I grunted as I entered a deep orgasm. Cheryl's hands were clutching at me, urging me on while I flooded her pussy. I think somewhere along the way she had a second orgasm herself.

I was a little embarrassed as I came too, but I was also grateful for the hot sex. I kissed her appreciatively and slowly pulled out. I needed my head examined, for sure, getting off on my dad-in-law like that.

Maybe Cheryl sensed I wasn't in a talkative mood just then. Or maybe she was tired herself.

"Good night, babe," she whispered as she gave me a kiss before I reached over to turn off the light.

****

We had to talk. It was Saturday and Mr. Bryant was coming over soon to help with the gutters. Maybe not an ideal time for a heart-to-heart with my fiancee. But we'd been walking on eggshells all week. Scratch that. I'd been walking on eggshells all week, Cheryl seemed her normal chipper self.

But we'd just finished lunch and I noticed Cheryl get up and start clearing our plates, acting like a housewife. We'd have to talk about that, too. But for now, I had something needed to talk about more.

"So...," I started. "How long have you and your dad been having sex?"

Cheryl gave me a pitying look. Like she was sorry to hurt me. A "do you really want to know" look.

I did want to know. "Cheryl," I prodded. "I have been pretty patient with this all."

She grinned. "That's just cause you want Daddy's cock," she almost laughed.

Fuck, that hit me. Non in a hurtful way, exactly but it surprised me in how horny the idea made me. "Maybe," I admitted. Hoping my confession would break the ice between us. I still didn't know if I could have a real relationship with a woman in an incestuous affair with her father. But my dick was leading me around, for sure.

"Daddy has a nice cock," she smiled. Then finally getting back to my question. "Daddy took my virginity." She paused as if deciding whether to give me the full story. "He was always kind of strict with curfew when I was in high school. And real protective when I was dating anyone. He made me come home early from prom, so I wouldn't get into any trouble, you know." She described it was if Mark Bryant was just being a good parent instead of a creep of a controlling father. "I was still in my dress and Daddy came into my room and told me I was beautiful."

Jesus, this was messed up, but I was hard as she recounted it.

She looked at me and could tell I was turned on. "He gave me our first kiss and then on my bed, he deflowered me. Slowly, patiently. Like Daddy always is."

Fuck.

"I didn't really enjoy the sex that first time, but I knew I'd do anything to make Daddy happy like that. I had my first orgasm with him the next night. I knew I was in love with him then."

"Where does that leave us?" I asked. It was a tough question to ask, because I wasn't sure I'd like the answer.

"I love you, Nick," Cheryl said sincerely. "And I want you as my husband. But Daddy comes first and he always will. You'd have to accept that."

"Not sure I can," I said truthfully.

She nodded, as if expecting that. "So. We calling it off? The engagement? Us?"

I shook my head. "I didn't say I wouldn't accept it," I replied, shocking her, I think. "I just gotta think about it."

"I can give you a month to decide," she said. "But at some point we need to know if this going to work."

"Fair," I said.

We hugged, comforting one another after the heavy conversation. "I love you, babe," I said, patting her back as he held one another, her head resting on my shoulder.

I enjoyed that intimate moment, but after a few seconds, I heard the door knock.

"Guess I know who that is," I joked and stepped back

"He's early," Cheryl said. "Sorry, hon." She seemed to sense that I was a little flustered to have our private talk interrupted.

"It's OK," I said. "I'll answer."

I opened the door and sure enough it was Mr. Bryant, dressed in a beat-up T-shirt and cargo shorts instead of his normal preppy businessman attire. "Hi Mark," I greeted, trying not to switch to the more formal "Mr. Bryant" with him. "Come in."

The man may be middle-aged and have the start of a beer belly, I realized, but there was definitely an animal magnetism to him. The contrast between his blue eyes and gruffly handsome, sun-beaten face, and the tall, bulky build he carried around like a charging bulldozer, even when he was in a jovial mood. I didn't want to be attracted to him, but fuck, I was.

"Ready to fix those gutters?" he bellowed as he walked past me into our living room. Mr. Bryant had two volumes. Loud and louder.

"Yep," I replied.

"Pleasure before business, though," he said as he stepped up to Cheryl and wrapped his strong arm around her waist and practically tugging her more petite frame toward his masculine bulk. Their mouths connected. Their kiss was somewhere between romantic and lusty. It was obscenely hot to watch.

Particularly as Mark bent his knees some to angle his hand down into Cheryl's loose shorts.

"Aw FUCK, Daddy!" she let out in a surprised yelp as her father's fingers started playing with her genitals.

"You like that Baby Doll?" he growled, seemingly oblivious I was there watching.

The two of them were entranced with each other, in fact. Cheryl just nodded with a girlish "um hm," for yes and I could see her push her privates into her father's molesting hand.

"MMmm, my baby's pussy is wet..." he hissed in his Texas drawl. "Getting all wet for your Big Daddy are ya?"

Cheryl let out another gasp, seemingly unable to answer as Mr. Bryant fingered with a lewd expression on his face.

"Let's get that hungry pussy stuffed, baby," he now whispered. Maybe he did have a different volume.

I watched, transfixed, as Mark walked Cheryl back to the master bedroom - our bedroom - as he put one paw on her slim shoulder and licked my fiancees pussy juices off his thick fingers.

I took a seat. I was hard as a rock, but feeling a million complicated emotions. A month, I thought. One month to decide if I could deal with this. If I could spend my married life witnessing Mark Bryant fuck my wife. His daughter. My head throbbed and I felt red from the heat of my blood.

The sounds traveled down the hall. A lot of giggling, Mark's low sex talk in an indistinguishable growl, wet kisses. The fuckers didn't even shut the door.

I should go outside, I realized, and I started to get up and walk toward the door. But I had to watch. My heart pounding, I made my way back toward the bedroom. The door wasn't cracked, it was wide open. And I could see them fucking plain as day. Missionary. Cheryl clenching at her father like she had with me the other night. Needy, urgent.

And Mark was really laying it into her. He was just magnificent to watch. All that daddy beef in full rut. I had never noticed before but Mr. Bryant had one hell of an ass. Big round globes of muscle that looked almost fatty but which clenched into firm hard muscle with each fuck thrust.

"Oh Daddy, you're so big," Cheryl gasped. "It feels like prom night each time you fuck me."

Mark's voice was surprisingly out of control, like he could barely talk. "You make me feel so good, Princess." A few more thrusts and I watched his back and gluteal muscle get firmer in its flexing. Then, "I'm gonna cum in ya, baby. Daddy's gonna cum."

"Yes!" Cheryl urged excitedly, but most of what I heard was Mr. Bryant's lion roar of an orgasm.

"FUCK YES!" finally came the words after a long deep growl. "Oh baby, oh honey," he gasped as he rode out his nut, his body in almost a push up position over his daughter.

Slowly, he relaxed and collapsed his weight down into an embrace. I don't know how my fiancee supported that bulk, but she held him and they kissed like lovers.

Yeah, I should have stepped away. I should have had some self respect. But I watched, even as that thick, heavy phallus slid out of my wife-to-be and that father cum oozed out of Cheryl's fucked pussy.

I was so caught up in the nasty display I didn't realize Mr. Bryant now stood beside the bed and was watching me.

"Cheryl said you were a perv," he said simply. God his dong was softening but swung long and heavy between his hairy thighs, still slick with sex. "Enjoy the show?" His words stung, and Mark meant them to.

Still, I couldn't lie. I nodded. "Yes," I said.

Mark chuckled. Like he wasn't pissed off, which was a good sign. He nodded to his daughter, style naked on the bed, her legs still spread, her pussy on display. "Your turn to fuck her, Nick," he offered. But he caught my eye. The flench of hesitation in my face. "Unless... there's something you want more."

Oh fuck. Mark had a leer on his face. The fucker knew. He took a slow step around the bed and another one toward me. God, that cock was beautiful. And everything about Mr. Bryant seemed hot to me. When I'd fooled around with guys in college, before Cheryl, it had been low-key sex with buddies. Normal college guys, guys my age.

But this man was different. Powerful. Cocky. Purely sexual. As he got closer his dick firmed up. Not a full-fledged hardon but closer.

"Go on," he urged, almost impatient.

I gulped then crouched down. That was the right thing to do, in Mark's eyes, because almost immediately I felt his meaty paw on the back of my neck as his other hand lined his dick up to my lips.

I licked the tip. Still sticky, still oozing cum. I hoped Mr. Bryant was recharging, though I felt ashamed for that wish. I licked more, around the plump head and just beyond. It tasted of man, but I could also taste my fiancee on him. I was getting out of control but I need more, opening up, I took him into my mouth.

"Looks like we got a cocksucker on our hands, honey," he laughed cruelly. Already he was holding my head steady and pushing that thick tool into my gullet. Nudging right against my gag reflex but somehow knowing when to stop just short.

"Told you, Daddy," Cheryl giggled.

Fuck.

It wasn't right to say I sucked Mr. Bryant's cock. Not that time at least. The man just held my skull and pumped me. Heavy strokes that challenged me. I was out of practice and had never blown a man this size. Particularly when his face fucking grew more urgent.

"Take it you fucking cum dump," he growled, and I got fed that Bryant cum first hand. Salt and sweet in the same proportion. Spurting against the back of my tongue as the man rode out his second orgasm in the span of ten minutes.

Somehow, somewhere in the process, I came.

Mark was quiet when he withdrew, even as I gave that magnificent soft penis one last kiss. "Who's slutty now," I shuddered when I thought of how I'd judged Cheryl lately. The big man stepped back, hands on his waist now and let his genitals be on full display for me.

It was then that I knew I'd go through with it all. The marriage. Putting up with Cheryl's incest and affair. Sucking Mark Bryant whenever he let me. Embracing the whole situation.

The man just looked down on me. Not the contemptuous smirk I was expecting, but a smile. Like he'd gotten his way.

Then he turned and went to the bathroom to piss and clean off.

[loousir]

[Gorgon] Some Secrets Should be Said

Gorgon Male x Unaware/Oblivious Male Reader

Eros

Warnings: Tiniest ammout of homophobia/racisim, smoochin in a supply closet, YOU MAY BE IN HIGHSCHOOL BUT YOU ARE 18

Masterlist

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

It was an early Monday morning. The usual early birds were arriving at school, you being one of them. Rumor was going around of a new student getting enrolled. There were only three high schools in this small town; One for monsters, one for humans, and one for both. You were enrolled in the one that shared with monsters. The overall relations in the school were good, other than the typical high school antics.

You had just been dropped off by your sibling and we're walking into the building. A few people smiled your way and you smiled back, heading to your first hour. The teacher was a Satyr and she was a bubbly as ever, happy to see you in the morning. "Good morning (Y/n), we have a new student coming today." Your ears perked up and you looked over to her.

"Ah, we do? So the rumor was true after all?" She laughed and said, "Yes! He's gonna make a bit of history here." You became confused at her statement as you walked over to your seat. "What do you mean by that?" You asked setting your bag on the table. "I might get in a bit of trouble for telling but..." She walked over, her hooves clacking on the floor as she did. She leaned in on the table, "He will be the first Gorgon to be enrolled into the school!"

She seemed overly excited about the new student but you smiled at her enthusiasm. "You seem awfully happy about that. Is he in our class?" You asked, sitting down in your chair. Her smiled seemed to get wider as she nodded. You paused for a moment and leaned back. "Does that mean he's gonna sit by me?" She nods again. "Yep! You are the only one without a table partner. I'm sure you'll be fine. He's a nice kid." She ruffeled your hair and you swatted her hands away. "Auntie, you know I'm taken right?" She isn't your biological aunt but she's very close with your mom so you call her it for fun.

She laughed and walked away saying, "He's a cute one." You sighed and rolled your eyes as you pulled out your phone. You opened Snapchat and sent a message to your boyfriend.

You took a cute selfie, looking down at the phone while your forehead rested on the table.

Aunties super excited about our new student.

Ngl, I kinda am too. She said he was a Gorgon and I think she's onto my facination with cute snakes xx

You sent the snap and put your phone face down on the table before resting your face on your bag. A minute or so passed before you got a message back.

It was a black screen but he usually sent one. Admittedly, you have never seen him but you respected that since you fell in love with his personality, which was charming as ever.

Don't go cheating on me now ;)

I might just have to show you I'm cuter xx

You smiled and took another selfie.

So that means I get to see you then??? Game on babe xx

You smiled as you sent it. Yeah, it was cheesy flirting but it made you happy none the less. A few seconds later he messaged back with another black screen.

Hmm, I just might lol

You sent that you love him too and put your phone in your pocket. Smiling slightly as you looked up to see that some other students were starting to show up. Soon enough, the first bell for class to start rings and students filter in, taking their seats. Five minutes later, you still haven't seen a certain Gorgon as the final bell rings, saying anyone who wasn't there was late.

Gotta get to class, message you when I can

Love you xx

Mrs. Hucksburry stood at the front of the class, writing some last minute things on the board. "Alright class," Most of the students quiet down at her words. "As you may have heard, we have a new student today! I want you to treat him with respect as he is one of us," She said referring to her fellow monsters. "He is the first of his kind to be enrolled into our schools system." Right as she finished speaking, the door opened to show a rather handsome face and a the obvious 'hair' that came in the shape of several small, darkly colored snakes that seemed to form some sort of style.

He wore rather nice and stylish clothes, very 90's -esk. Mrs. Hucksburry smiled more and looked over to him. "Good morning Mr. Lamollot, glad to see you made your way here." He smiles a cute and almost shy smile, making a pair of girls in class giggle. You watched and tuned out what they were saying before seeing he was looking at you.

You waved to him as he walked over to your table. "I'm guessing you're (Y/n)?" You smiled and nodded, "That'd be me." You put your bag on the floor next to the table and he quietly sat down next to you. "I'm Eros by the way." He was quiet when he spoke as class had officially started. You pulled out a notebook with a pen/pencil and made a message page.

You have the same name as my boyfriend!

You tore the paper out and slid it over to him while he was getting his own notebook and pen. Notes were handwritten on the board since the projector broke and hadn't been replaced yet but no one seemed to mind. The paper was slid back over to you.

Really? What are the chances of that?

His hand writing was nice for a boy and you looked out of the corner of your eye to see him smiling. You smiled too and wrote back.

Who knows but I think it's cool

You slid the paper back and he took a minute to slide it back but you patiently waited since you would have done the same. He didn't write anything on it.

You seem pretty chill Eros, wanna hang out at lunch? Also can I see your schedule? • 3 •

The paper was passed back for the fifth time during class and all it said was his schedule along with a "Sure!" underneath. You told him that the two of you share the same schedule. WhAt A cOiNcIdEnCe.

You looked over to him to see him looking at the paper. He looked up to you and you smiled. Eros smiled back and took the paper to ask.

Do you have early release too?

You read it as he wrote and he looked up to you. You nodded and he wrote again.

Wanna go chill at the park?

You shrugged and nodded again when he looked up to you. He smiled and nodded as the two of you went back to working on class work. You hadn't noticed it before but, his snakes seemed to be interested in you, which you thought was cute.

--- Skip to Break ---

An hour and a half had passed and the two of you had talked a bit throughout the time. The bell for break just rang and you got up with Eros. The two of you walked out to the hallway. "Let me make a stop by my locker real quick then we can go to next hour and chill there for break." He nodded and leaned against the locker next to you when two girls walked up to him. They were the same pair from first hour.

"Hey Eros, wanna hang with us at lunch?" The "leader" asked, standing in front of him. "Yeah that'd be like, totally cool if you did." Her buddy said, standing next to him. "Oh, sorry, me and (Y/n) al-" She cut him off with a scoff. "Oh you mean halfie? That kids got an imaginary boyfriend. How about you just ditch him and come eat with us." Eros looked over to you to see you had tensed and slowed your movements.

The girls focus turned on you, making you bite your lip. "Do you think you could not ruin this guy? He's like, super hot and doesn't need to be tainted by you." You looked away and felt a vibration come from your phone. You took the chance and opened it to see a message from your boyfriend. She smirked, "Did your 'boyfriend' text you? What'd he say?" She asked in a taunting tone.

You ignored her and opened the message. It was a new picture of the "super hot" guy standing next to you looking down to his phone.

Wanna dip babe?

These bitches are annoying the fuck outta me lol

The three of you looked up to him surprised as you closed your locker. He awkwardly smiled and said, "Guess I had to ruin that surprise cause some bimbos wanna fuck a gay guy." He laughed and walked over to you, grabbing your hand. You were speechless.

How did I not connect the dots earlier? Am I really that dense?

"It's a shame too. I was considering being friends, until you insulted my boyfriend, that is." He locked your fingers and looked back at the two. "Go suck a dildo, whore." Eros flipped them off and walked off with you around the corner, looking for a private spot. "Anywhere there won't be eavesdroppers?" He asked quietly. You nodded and lead him to a back room.

You opened the door with the key you had and let you go in first. The room was pretty nice considering it was useless. You turned on the light at set your bag down, Eros doing the same. "Are you really my boyfriend?" You asked stepping closer to him. He blushed and nodded, "I... I think so... I kind of ruined the supr-mm!" His eyes widened as you connected your lips to his. You pulled away and were about to speak when he connected them again, pressing his body into yours slightly.

He pulled away and you smiled, a blush was covering your face. "I've wanted to do that for so long." You said looking up to him slightly. "Me too." He said, hugging you close. "Why did you lie to me about being human?" You asked, resting your face on his chest. "I was... Scared of how you'd react if I told you the truth." You pulled away and looked up to him. "Are you kidding? Look what I was missing out on!" You said, making gestures to him.

Eros smiled and laughed. "I have a question for you though," You tilted your head slightly. "Why did they call you halfie?" You looked away and brushed back the hair around your ears. The tips of them were pointed much like an elf's but not as long. "My dads an elf. They like to use it as an insult since they're full and I'm not..."

Eros smiled again and nuzzled his nose to the crook of your neck. His snakes were gently booping their noses against your cheek as if giving you small kisses. You giggled at the sensation and he hummed to ask what was so funny. "Your snakes are cute." You said gently intertwining your fingers with them. He gently kissed your neck and rubbed your sides. "Well, they love you just as much as I love you." He said closing his eyes and hugging you.

You smiled and removed your hand to cup his cheek and make him look at you. His golden eyes were half lidded as he did. "Well," You said almost mocking him in away. "I love you and your snakes too." His eyes closed as he leaned in and yours did the same, both of your lips connecting again.

Eros pressed himself into you as both of you kissed. You pulled away first for air and he kissed your cheek and jaw lightly. You checked your phone when he pulled away he asked. "I'm curious how you got a key to a janitors closet." You leaned up to him and kissed his cheek. "My biological uncles the principal and he gave me the room to chill if I need to. It's usually where I would hang out for lunch but I dont really need to anymore since early release and all."

He "ooh'd" and nodded. "Makes sense. Wish I had a place like this at my old school." He looked back at you and his eyes went to your hair while you were checking something on your phone. Eros almost hesitantly brushed his fingers through your (h/c) hair. You jumped slightly at the sudden touch but enjoyed it none the less. "We have 4 minutes by the way." You said closing your eyes and leaning into his hand.

"Your hair is really nice. It's so soft." He smiled when you did and he gently kissed your nose while removing his hand from your hair. You tried your best to make it look like how it did before. "Sorry." He said gently with a small laugh. "Don't be, let's head to next hour so we can get this day done with and hang out." He nodded at your words and you grabbed his hand as the two of you grabbed your bags and quietly made it to the class you're meant to be in.

--- Skip to End of Day ---

The last two hours of school they had went by pretty quickly. The bell for lunch and early release seniors rang, making most people rush to leave or go to lunch. You and Eros lagged behind, waiting for the halls to clear a bit. He gently grabbed your hand as you finished putting your bag on. "Do you wanna go to the park or my house? I have a car so it doesn't matter too much on which you pick." He said with a small laugh.

You blushed and shrugged, "I would probably like your house since it's kinda cold out right now..." The two of you walked out of the class, hand in hand. The pair of girls from earlier watched with hatred/jealousy as the two of them walked out together. They were all going the same way so they got to see Eros walk you to his 1969 Blue Camaro.

Eros unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you to get in to which you gladly accepted. You set your bag down by your feet and buckled as he set his bag in the back and got in. "I hope my dad isn't home." He said closing his door and starting the car. "Why do you say that?" You asked as he buckled his seat belt.

He sighed and leaned back on his seat. "He doesn't actually know we're... Y'know, dating. Or if he does he has no clue you're a guy..." You nodded and looked to him while he backed out from the parking lot. "We can still go to the park. I'll survive I'm sure." You said softly. "Plus I kinda wanna wear your jacket..." You mumbled the last part while looking away but he heard and smiled, acting as if he didn't hear.

"There's one close to my house we can go to. It's pretty cool if you wanna go there." Eros said while stopping at a light. "That sounds good." He smiled again and looked over to you before looking back at the light. Seeing it change to green, he stepped on the gas again and headed to the destination.

---

The ride was comfortably quiet other than the occasional comment about something in the passing scenery. "Ok, we're here." Eros said, parking his car in the relatively empty parking lot. "I've never seen this place before. It's really pretty." You said as the two of you stepped out.

"Yeah. It's pretty quiet here. I usually hang out here after school. I have never been home "on time" since I got a car 3-ish years ago." You smiled and held his hand as he locked the car and put the keys away. "I'll take you to my favorite spot. There's all kinds of secret areas thanks to the trees." He said with a slight child like glee. You giggled like the school boy that you are as he dragged you along through a beautiful walkway that was shaded by the trees. "Gods it's so pretty here." You said under your breath.

You walked for what felt like forever before he shifted to stand behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist. He removed his hand to show one of the few non blank pictures he sent. "Oh wow." The winter sun was shining over the neighboring town, giving a good idea of just how small it was. "We have a cliff?" You asked suddenly, making Eros laugh and hug you close to his body.

Eros smiled as he took a turn off the path and up a small hill. He stopped and gently let go of your hand, covering your eyes. You reached up to remove his hand but he stopped you. "W-what are you doing Eros?" He giggled and started walking, making you grab onto him afraid of running into something. "Eros?!"

"Don't worry babe. I promise it's nothing bad. I know you'll like it."

"Kinda crazy right?" He said before resting his chin on your shoulder. You nodded as his snakes gently booped you're temple and cheek again, making you smile. You reached up and gently placed a hand on Eros' cheek, rubbing your thumb against his jawline. "Wanna sit down? I have two and a half hours before I have to be home." You nodded again and he pulled away, leading you over to a fairly large tree.

He took off his jacket and tossed it up onto a branch before jumping into the tree himself. You were surprised before he reached down to help you up. "C'mon, it'll give us some privacy just incase anyone comes over here." You somewhat hesitantly took his hand and he helped pull you up onto the thick tree branch. He leaned back against the trees core, letting his legs hang down and inviting you to do the same against him.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence again while he hugged you close, resting his head against your shoulder. "I love you. A lot." He mumbled softly into your ear. You smiled and held onto the top of his hand that was holding onto your stomach. "I love you a lot too." You mumbled back. "Oh and, do you wanna wear my jacket now? I noticed you were shivering ever since we started walking."

You blushed and looked down to the tree branch and ground below it. "I didn't think you heard me say that..." He giggled and leaned forward a bit, grabbing the jacket off the branch it was hooked on to. You moved forward and he helped you put the slightly bigger jacket on. You snuggled into the lingering warmth, taking in his soft cologne.

"Your jacket smells good babe." Eros chuckles and pulls you against his chest again. "Well, it's got my favorite cologne on it so if course it smells good." You smile and let your head fall back against his shoulder and he kissed your temple.

"So. Do you wanna explain yourself a bit?"

-----

3261

Minimal spell/grammar checking, also set up for a part 2?

[julemmaes]

Robyn

Rowaelin Month, Day Ten

A/N: I'd planned on posting them in order, but you get what you get. Idk when the other prompts will come tbf. I hope soon. Anyway, I managed to write over 6k words today and I'm pretty fucking proud.

This is just fluff over fluff, so yep enjoy!!

Word count: 3,047

Rowan was unbelievably late as he sped through the streets of Orynth.

So late that the school had called not only him, but also the front desk of the place where he worked when he hadn't answered the call on his personal phone. Sorscha, his assistant, had entered his office with an embarrassed smile on her lips, as if she didn't want to tell him that he had forgotten for the umpteenth time to pick up his daughter from school.

Lorcan had joined him, for some strange reason, but Rowan had stopped bothering when it came to his best friend. He'd been trying to figure out how he reasoned for years and had come to the conclusion that there was no logical sense in the actions of the man sitting next to him, who was currently singing at the top of his lungs to one of the songs on the Frozen CD - which much to the chagrin of both of them, had gotten stuck in his car radio months before, forcing them into hours of torture.

He would never deny that the songs were all quite catchy, but after the sixteenth time Rowan had had to listen to Let It Go at maximum volume, his positive opinion of the film had begun to waver.

As they pulled into the school parking lot, Rowan noticed with deep regret that the only cars still there were those of the teachers and school staff.

They both got out of the car, Rowan walking quickly towards the entrance while Lorcan dragged behind him.

He greeted the caretakers sitting at the entrance, who returned a big smile. A smile that grew even wider when his large, imposing friend entered a few moments later. He stopped to talk to the old ladies and Rowan walked down the corridor he knew led to Robyn's classroom.

He could hear muffled voices from inside the teachers' room on the left and the one he knew belonged to Miss Galathynius coming from the right. He looked out over the classroom, spotting the two people sitting at a desk.

As soon as his daughter saw him, her eyes widened and a huge smile flashed across her face.

No words. No "hello, daddy!" or "I missed you!" from the little girl.

Her teacher turned as she leapt out of her chair and ran towards him, hugging his legs and looking up at him. Rowan smiled at her in turn, running a hand over her hair that was shot in every direction.

"Hello, little bird," he murmured to her. The child's smile widened even more if that was possible.

The woman a few feet away from them pulled herself upright, crossing her arms over her chest and offering a sincere smile to the child, who hid behind his thighs.

Rowan was about to tell her that Robyn was shy with everyone like this, ready to defend his daughter's behaviour as he was used to doing in front of every adult, but he was beaten to the punch.

"It's good to see you, Mr Whitethorn," she said, extending a hand. Rowan shook it without hesitation. "Actually, I just wanted to write you a letter regarding Robyn," she continued, never taking her eyes off the little girl. "Nothing serious," she hastened to reassure him when Rowan grimaced, "quite the contrary. Robyn is remarkably good. One of the best in the class, though I shouldn't offer that information so bluntly."

Miss Galathynius winked at him, but he couldn't process what he'd just been told.

"Sorry, could you-"

The little hands clamped around his trousers tightened a fraction more and Rowan looked down, trying to figure out what was bothering his daughter, but then something happened that he hadn't even dared to dream about in recent times.

"You're here!"

The little girl broke off and ran away from him in less than the blink of an eye.

Rowan turned just in time to see Lorcan grab Robyn in mid-air, spinning her around as he brought her to his chest and showered her with kisses. The loud, incessant laughter that erupted from her seemed too much coming from that fragile little body, but he never tired of hearing it.

"Why hello baby!" said Lorcan laughing in turn, starting to tickle her until she begun to rebel and he was forced to let her slide to the floor. Robyn was still laughing at the top of her lungs and nearly fell to the ground as she squealed left and right, letting herself be pushed around by the closest thing to an uncle she had ever had.

When Rowan turned back to the woman, she was wide-eyed and her lips slightly parted as she watched the massive man dressed completely in black and the menacing face turn into a completely different person the second he had seen Robyn.

He chuckled, "I know, it's not every day you get to see a little girl be so comfortable with a brute like that."

Lorcan, who was listening to everything, looked him straight in the eye and without stopping smiling and playing with the little girl, mouthed to him to fuck off.

"Well, yeah. You caught me a little off guard." she confessed, still shocked to hear how Robyn was having a full conversation with Lorcan. They couldn't hear anything of what she was actually saying, but even just the fact she was talking to someone seemed to have Aelin unsettled.

She returned her attention to Rowan and let out a breath that sounded more like a giggle, "I've never heard her laugh before."

He nodded, blushing a little at the teacher's surprised but relieved tone.

"I'm sure the dean warned you about the problem she has," he said in a low voice. He grimaced at her poor choice of words, "I mean, not problem, but the difficulty she finds in interacting with people she doesn't know."

Liar, he told himself. Robyn hadn't spoken to anyone but him and Lorcan since the day Lyria had died. It wasn't a difficulty, but a response to the trauma that prevented her from speaking to anyone who wasn't part of her immediate family.

"I know, I know. We've been looking for solutions together." she informed him. "I give her a white board every morning. Come on, I'll show you." she turned to the desk they were sitting at earlier and raised the magnetic board, on which a few words were scribbled on. "I'll write here what she might need. Yes. No. I need to go to the bathroom. I'm thirsty. I'm hungry." she read, listing the various options. Rowan gaped. "We've only just started going over the alphabet for a second time, so she can't really read or write yet, as I imagine you know, but the little drawings next to each sentence help her."

She continued talking, but he couldn't quite follow.

The woman in front of him - aside from being breathtakingly beautiful - had done as much as she could to help her child with communication.

"Mr. Whitethorn-"

"Rowan. Please, call me Rowan." he said, clearing his throat once he realized how hoarse it sounded to his ears. Lorcan walked up to them at that point, still holding Robyn in his arms and positioned himself next to him, letting their shoulders touch in a comforting way.

"Call me Aelin, then," she smiled at them both. Then she made a small grimace, turning to Rowan, "I wanted to ask if it bothered you, that I sought a solution like that. Maybe I put her in distress, embarrassed her. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted to solve this on my own. I really wanted to discuss it with you, with your husband too, to avoid misunderstandings. Maybe we could arrange a meeting."

He was about to tell her that she had given him the exact opposite of annoyance, that he had been more than pleased that she had helped Robyn this way, when her words finally registered.

Lorcan, beside him, had opened his mouth wide and his lips were slowly bending into a mischievous smile.

Rowan furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, what?"

Aelin's smile seemed to falter. "A meeting? With you? To talk about how to handle the situation," then she shifted her gaze to Lorcan, "You're more than welcome to join as well. I didn't know Robyn had two dads, I apologise for assuming Robyn had a mum and dad. That was very rude of me-"

"I love this," Lorcan whispered, laughing in shock. He turned to Rowan with eyes that sparkled with amusement, "I would definitely be the top."

Rowan looked at him with an expression of complete shock on his face, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Robyn gasped, opening her eyes wide and bringing a hand to her mouth, pointing then to Rowan's.

"Yeah, sorry, love. I shouldn't have said the bad word." he apologised, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. He turned back to Miss Galathynius, "I'm sorry to have to disappoint you, but we're not married."

"No need to lie, sweetie. I'm sure Aelin," he gave her a knowing look, "doesn't mind at all about our relationship status."

Aelin nodded, "Well, yes. That doesn't change anything. Mr..." she turned to Lorcan, searching for a name.

"Salvaterre."

"Mr. Salvaterre can still attend. The fact that you are not yet married is no reason why you cannot both be present at the meeting. You don't have to worry, we are a very tolerant school and if anyone bothers you, you can come directly to me."

A sound of sheer glee escaped Lorcan.

Aelin continued, "I mean it. I was pleased to see both of you today. I was also pleased to see Robyn smiling so much." she concluded, looking the little one in the face.

Rowan took a deep breath, bracing himself, "No, I meant, we're not a couple. We're not gay. He's her uncle."

The woman's blonde eyebrows shot up and a second later she turned almost as red as the dress Robyn was wearing as Lorcan shook his head muttering something very much like 'you're no fun', which made Robyn giggle.

"Why did you even get off the car?" he asked him exasperated.

Lorcan shrugged, "Because I missed my little bean, you monster." he replied, clutching Robyn to his chest. The little girl clutched Lorcan's shirt in her chubby little hands and Rowan huffed, shaking his head.

Aelin brought her hands to her face, leaning against the desk behind her. She shook her head, her face still hidden, "Oh, god. I'm so sorry."

Lorcan let out a dry laugh, "Don't worry about it. It was fun while it lasted." then he turned to Rowan again, who was still trying to recover from the idea of being involved in a relationship with his friend, "You're really no fun."

"Yeah, no fun dad." repeated Robyn.

Silence fell over the class. Rowan looked at her with wide eyes and blinked once, twice. Robyn was staring at him with a sweet scowl that mimicked so much that of the man who was still holding her, but Rowan couldn't get over the fact that his daughter had spoken while Aelin was still beside them.

He was about to talk, noticing how Robyn had started squirming in Lorcan's arms, when there was a knock at the door.

They both turned, Aelin peering over Rowan's shoulder, and saw the figure of a petite girl with black hair and eyes standing in the doorway, watching them with her head slightly bent to the side. She had a tag on her t-shirt that was too colourful to belong to someone who didn't work in a school with children, so he guessed she was a teacher herself. Besides, Rowan felt like he'd seen her elsewhere. Probably every day when he picked Robyn up from school, he said to himself.

"I know you're not supposed to eavesdrop but I stopped by earlier and heard you were a couple of dads," she said by way of introduction. "I just wanted to reassure you that the school is an extremely safe place. I'm the one who did most of the interviews with the parents," that's where they had met then, "and one of the questions that is asked is just about the tolerance of the people who will be attending the school."

Aelin watched her, remaining silent the whole time and putting on an amused smile, nodded, "That's what I was telling them. How tolerant the school is. They make such a cute couple, don't you think, Elide?"

Rowan turned to her, arching an eyebrow, silently asking her what she was doing. The woman, as if she could truly understand what he was trying to convey to her, nodded her head towards Lorcan, who Rowan only then noticed was standing weirdly, his eyes fixed on the woman in the doorway.

He grinned, deciding to take his revenge right away. "Oh, yes. Thank you so much for the reassurance," Rowan began to play along as well. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lorcan turn towards him, dropping Robyn to the floor, who made a disapproving noise at being dumped so suddenly. "We are happy to know that this school is a safe place for our daughter. And for us."

Elide offered him a blinding smile, "Good. I'm happy to hear that you are pleased so far. And I am happy that Aelin is the one who is taking your daughter's class. She's the best one here."

Rowan didn't know her yet, but he knew the thing Elide had just said could only be true.

"Well," she said again, giving them an apologetic smile, "I really must go now, but if you need anything, you can find all my contact details on the website. Have a nice day!"

Aelin and Rowan said their goodbyes, thanking her. Lorcan took a while to recover, but when he realised he was staring into empty space he ran towards the door, almost stepping on little Robyn, who was moved by Aelin.

"We are very much not gay, miss!" he shouted into the hallway. Aelin, now beside him and with a hand on Robyn's shoulder, cackled. With Lorcan's infinite luck, someone walked by just then and gave him a stern look. "Oh, shut up ma'am. I'm an ally. The best ally."

Rowan shook his head as Lorcan launched himself in pursuit of the poor teacher and burst out laughing when he heard him shout, "I'm not homophobic! I'm willing to suck someone's cock if I have to prove it to you!"

Aelin opened her mouth wide before bursting out laughing in turn.

Robyn, seeing both adults so happy, giggled too and Rowan bent down to pick her up. The little girl laid her full head of white-light hair on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

She was tired and Rowan really needed to get her home to sleep.

He glanced at Aelin and reduced his lips to a thin line, "I'm sorry about the commotion, I'll try not to bring him into the building again. Even if it means tying him to the seat."

The soft laugh she gave made something tighten in his chest. He frowned.

Aelin didn't seem to notice the effect she had on him, "Don't worry, Elide is crazy about fools like him. If he says the right things, we might start seeing each other outside of school too."

Rowan nodded, now too caught up in the thought of having to take Robyn home to focus on anything else.

They agreed on when to hold the parent-teacher meeting and then he grabbed Robyn's backpack, walking towards the exit.

He was thoughtless as he reached into his pocket for his keys and balanced everything else - including the girl - on his other arm, but when Robyn's hand brushed his cheek, he looked down and his eyes met their twins. Green against green.

"What is it?"

The little girl's voice never stopped making him smile. Each time was like the first time she had said dada.

"I really like her."

Rowan frowned, "Who?"

"Miss Aelin." she whispered, almost as if she was afraid they might hear her.

He smiled at her, "Yeah? You like her?"

"She's nice to me."

Rowan had to put her down as he opened the door and let her get into the back seats by herself.

"I'm glad she's treating you well, love," he let her know, buckling her in.

He hoped she'd tell him more about her new teacher, but like any kid her age, the topic of conversation couldn't last for more than four lines apiece, "Where's Uncle Lorcan?"

Rowan snorted, "No idea, little bird."

Robyn nodded, "Elide is pretty too."

And as if those words had summoned him, Lorcan appeared beside the car, making them both scream. He entered the car in a heartbeat and turned to his daughter, who was still settling into the seat. "Do you know Miss Lochan?"

But before she could answer him, Rowan had entered the car in turn and smacked the back of his head, which made the Robyn giggle, "You're not using my daughter as your wingman. Now stop it and buckle up."

Lorcan gave him a gentle push, before doing as he was told and for once he was happy he'd convinced him to do something.

Or at least, Rowan thought he had convinced him.

"What if I left you a note to deliver to Miss Lochan, Rob? Would you be up for it?"

Rowan knew, even without looking at her, that she was nodding emphatically.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he murmured, "Could you stop calling my daughter Rob, please? You'll give her an existential crisis."

Lorcan clicked his tongue against his palate, "Rowan, I'm not giving her a damn thing. We live in this new world, okay? Your daughter could be called Simon and still be a beautiful princess. Grow up and educate yourself before you talk shit."

"Aaaah!" shouted Robyn, "Bad word!"

Rowan sighed and shook his head, but still he was smiling.

This was his life. Had been for the past two years.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @hellasblessed @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @terrible-and-proud @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @bookstantrash @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses @rhysandswingspan @tanvee1231

[choerrypuffs]

How would you pair every NCT member with their godly parent?💖

hi i actually answered this here already, but it was in feb 2021 and since it's basically a year later, i want to update it again since my opinions have changed in retrospect 🥰

also wtf these are making me want to write more demigods but i'm pretty sure it's just the withdrawals talking bc i'll be writing demigods until i'm 40 if i write fics for all 23 members 💀

taeil would be a hermes kid! maybe even the head counselor of the hermes cabin tbh. i previously said he would be a hypnos kid bc of how chill he is, but i think he suits hermes better. so many of the other members have said how easy it is to hang with him and how he just gets along with everyone so i think he would be so welcoming to those campers that haven't been claimed by their godly parent yet and are stuck in the hermes cabin. he would just be the big bro everyone needs 🥺

johnny seems like a dionysus kid? i put apollo for him last time but i feel like he acts more like apollo the god from the books rather than an actual apollo kid LMAOOO but i asked cat for her opinion she said dionysus too bc she said he "seems like a party beer guy" and i agree 😌 i feel like he's the only who wouldn't care about mr. d's grumpiness and his dad would 100% have a soft spot for him

taeyong is an aphrodite kid 🥰 i still stand by this. rip to him and daughter of aphrodite!yn bc jaehyun is their psycho brother but taeyong just fits being an aphrodite kid so well ughhhhh like he's so beautiful and intimidating on stage but then he is just the loveliest and sweetest off camera and i think that's such an aphrodite-y trait <333

yuta is an ares kid. i said nemesis last time but i think ares fits him better. he scares me bc he's so intense in everything he does, which is an ares kid staple lmfao. i think he's different from jeno and child of nike!yn though; he's not competitive like them, he's just super super passionate about what he does 😌

kun is a demeter kid. head counselor too 😤 i still agree with this bc he continues to wrangle in wayv and i know he's just as stressed as head counselor of the athena cabin!yn except irl. but if this man keeps testing my patience with those damn nfts, he'll be demoted to hypnos kid bc hypnos is the god of sleep and he needs to wake the fuck up ♥

doyoung is an athena kid!!! i've said this and will continue to say it!!! no explanation needed 😩

ten is an iris kid. i said this last time bc iris kids are good at communicating and art and ten fits both 🥰 iris kids can also bend light and i feel like that power goes with him so well omg like he'd look so beautiful bending light 🤩

jungwoo is still a zeus kid! his nickname is zeus and i know it's lazy but he would 100% be a zeus kid come on. also i love jason but he's so boring and jungwoo is so much funnier and cooler 😌 he would just have that big 3 arrogance that all big 3 children have but in a lovable mischievous way

mark is a hephaestus kid!!! i will never let go of the fact that he's basically leo valdez!!! he would constantly be fidgeting and tinkering around with stuff, unable to stay still. hephaestus kids can also control fire so that would be cool af 😎

xiaojun would either be a poseidon or aphrodite kid. i said he gave me tyson vibes last time which is still true but he also makes other members gay panic so aphrodite might be a good choice too 👀

hendery is a hermes kid lmfaoooo. unlike taeil, he's the hermes kid that's always running around causing chaos and wreaking havoc upon the rest of the camp. i said zeus or apollo last time, and i think zeus could still work but again i think he's more like apollo the god rather than an apollo kid.

yangyang is also a hermes kid 😭 i didn't think hermes would be the majority here but him and hendery would fuck shit upppppp omg 💀 if you see them around, you know they're about to pull a prank and cause massive headaches for the responsible people

shotaro is still a zeus kid!! he's so sweet and adorable so it would be unexpected for him to be a child of the big three, but i think that duality is perfect for him 🥺

sungchan is still a poseidon kid. i think he would be the voice of reason compared to moon and hyuck's madness but he probably also instigates it sometimes too LMFAOOO

chenle is a nike kid 100%. i said tyche last time bc he's good at games and rich but fuck that. fun fact: nike kids are actually said to be rougher than ares kids and i think chenle is batshit insane but he just masks it behind that adorable face 😌 him and child of nike!yn are like the hendery and yangyang of the nike cabin

jisung would be an apollo kid! i said zeus last time but i think shotaro fits zeus better. i feel like jisung would be jaemin's sporty, but a lil clumsy, little brother 🥺 he's not really that good at healing but he tries his best <33 jaemin gives him healing lessons and jisung gives him archery lessons

[abarbaricyalp]

Idk if you are still taking prompts, but you know the vine two dudes chilling in a hot tub 5 feet apart cause they're not gay, and a girl quoting it in a park about two girls in the distance and one of them hearing and going "Actually I am gay" Like that scenario, only involving them fixing the boat? Maybe Sarah quoting it to give Sam shit when she thinks Bucky cant hear and Bucky goes "Wait, no I'm gay" or something, or just the general gist of that. Sorry if this us too specific, I've never sent anyone a prompt before :P

Hello Friend! Thank you so much for sending anything in at all! I know the vine you're talking about, but I couldn't find it on Youtube. (I did find a two day rabbit hole of old compilations though) This was also my first foray into writing Sarah as a fully fleshed character! I was excited to get the practice 'cause I had an idea bouncing around in my head about her and Bucky talking after he wakes up in the Wilson house. I kept her a little more like she had been in my other fics pre-show here. I so wish we got a little more of her!

Feel free, anyone, to send me Sambucky prompts!

The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation

Sarah Wilson loved her brother deeply. The kind of soul crushing love that could only be formed through family, loss, and approximately four thousand brawls around the living room throughout their life. She looked up to her brother more than she could ever imagine looking up to anyone. Even when they were fighting or picking on each other, she couldn’t help but feel a swell in her chest when he came into her line of sight.

That didn’t mean she understood him. In fact, from the age of eight, watching her brother interact with the world had become her go-to pastime. Why did he have to roll every pea around the plate individually before eating them? Why did he and his friends spend seven years socking each other in the arm to prove friendship? Why did he talk to himself in the mirror, even when he knew Sarah or someone else was standing in the doorway?

Sam Wilson was just deeply weird. She had no idea how he had tricked the Avengers, a plethora of bad guys, and half of the media world into thinking he was remotely cool. She saw a news story once that had King T’Challa standing on a platform with Sam and the newscasters talked about how impressive Sam’s suit was. It was unnatural, the effect he had on people.

And in all her years, she never thought she’d see anyone weirder than Sam. But then James Barnes had showed up. It was like a complete reversal of Sam. Sarah was taken in for approximately three hours by his charm and face before she realized he too was deeply, deeply weird.

She justified sitting on the edge of the Paul and Darlene, watching her brother and James Barnes spar off about some dumb trivia fact, by deciding it was an anthropological expedition. The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation. She watched Sam watch Barnes take a long pull off his beer. She watched Barnes kick his feet up near Sam’s legs and then draw them back quickly when a current jolted the boat. She watched Barnes’ fingers tap-tap-tap against the edge of the boat, inching closer to Sam’s shoulder before he chickened out and brought his hand back to his own lap. She watched Sam suggest Bucky take his jacket off, ‘unless you plan on sun blinding me with the robocop arm.’ She watched Sam look away when Barnes did shrug his jacket off.

When she was seventeen and Sam was fifteen, she had found Sam crying in his room, pillow pressed to his face to muffle the noise. They were at the age where going into each other’s rooms uninvited started international conflicts, but Sarah, who watched her brother intently, felt like she knew what was going on. So she let herself in through their Jack-and-Jill bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Sam didn’t stop crying, not even to yell at her to get out, so she sat on the end of his bed and rolled a baseball under her foot for a while. Finally, she’d said, “You don’t have to tell Mom and Dad, y’know.”

Sam had just about wailed and bit the corner of his pillow to stop himself.

“That’s gross, stop it,” Sarah ordered and pushed Sam’s shoulder back enough to yank his pillow free and then reached over to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I should make you do the laundry this week so I know I’m not touching your snot germs,” she teased softly.

“How did you know?” Sam hiccuped out. Tears were still brimming at his eyes, but they didn’t fall.

“I’m your older sister. I made you. Like a doll. You think there’s something about you that I don’t know?” she joked. And when the tears did spill over his long lashes, she sighed and pulled him closer to her side. “I just know the way you interact with that boy from the basketball team ain’t just friendly.”

“Jesus, do you think he can tell?” Sam asked and she could hear the mortification in his voice.

“Sam, he’s a freshman in high school. The only thing he knows is that he’s scared of everything too. No one’s paying that much attention to you.”

“Screw you,” Sam muttered.

“What’re all these tears for you if you didn’t make a move and get shot down?”

“God, Sarah, can you not say things like that?”

“Watch your mouth,” Sarah warned with no heat in her voice. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I’m not leaving until you do.”

“I just…” Sam sat up and worked his jaw for a while. His chin dimpled and his eyes watered but he managed to control himself. “I’m scared, Sarah. I’m scared of never being in love. Of having to leave if I am. I’m scared to say something and I’m scared not to say something. I’m so scared of...losing any of it.”

“Sam,” Sarah sighed and pulled Sam into another hug. “You’re fifteen. You’re not supposed to be in love yet. You don’t have to think about any of that. You just have to focus on passing Geometry, alright? Mom’ll whoop your ass more for failing than anything else.”

“I have a B+, that’s not failing!” Sam snapped. He kept his face against her shoulder for a second long before he sat up and wiped his tears away. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I gonna tell? I told you, my friends don’t like you as much as you think they do.”

“Your friends like me more than they like you,” Sam shot back and he almost sounded normal.

Sarah smiled softly and patted Sam’s cheek. “I won’t tell Mom or Dad. Of course not. That’s for you to do. But--”

“I’m always going to tell them when you sneak out the window.”

“No! Sam! You can’t! You owe me now!”

“Going to field parties is not the same thing!” Sam said in a shriek as Sarah leaned over to pinch his sides. They grappled for a second before Sam managed to push Sarah off the bed.

“You owe me,” she reminded him as she walked back to the bathroom.

Sam wiped his eyes again and nodded. “Sure, Sarah. I do.”

Sam almost had the same look on his face now. Like there was something he wanted to reach for that he thought was too impossible to hold. The Older Sister Instinct to Antagonize into a Solution kicked in.

“Two bros, chilling on a boat, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay,” she sing-songed. Sam looked mortified again but masked his face into something more irritated with a roll of his eyes when Barnes looked over at him.

“Ignore her. It’s this old video--” Sam started.

But Bucky interrupted to say, “Actually I am gay,” as he looked back over at Sarah. “Sorry if I got your hopes up,” he added with a grin that really did get the hopes up.

“What?” Sam asked and Sarah, ever watchful, could see the beer bottle shaking in his hand.

“What?” Bucky repeated innocently.

“He said he’s gay,” Sarah clarified.

“Thank you, Sarah,” Sam ground out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky snorted. “When would I have said anything? ‘Sorry for ripping your wings off and kicking you off of a hellicarrier, by the way I’m gay.’?”

“You did what?” Sarah asked.

“‘Sorry for claiming I didn’t bomb the UN only to be reverted back to the assassin who would have done that and then fighting you again. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Thanks for saving my life. Sorry about the giant undersea prison. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘There’s an imminent battle with weird ass space dogs that want to eat our faces. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Sorry about Tony Stark, whose life I kind of ruined. Lovely funeral. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘I’m in the middle of being pissed at you about the Shield. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Maybe don’t take me rolling through a field of flowers. It does things to me ‘cause I’m gay.’ ‘John Walker’s fucking insane. I’m gay, but definitely not for this bullshit.’ I mean, come on, Sam.”

“Flowers?” Sarah asked.

“Besides, why would you care? I don’t make it a habit of telling straight guys I’m into guys.”

“You don’t seem to make a habit of telling many people that,” Sarah pointed out. “I googled you. Nothing suggesting that came up.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m a guy from the 30s. It was trained out of me.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sarah said quickly. “Back up away from that because we’re not gonna try to Oppression Olympics our way through our histories. Did you just say Sam was straight?”

“Sarah!” Sam hissed.

“Sure. I mean, I saw him with Romanov. Hill. He has Tinder on his phone.”

“Samuel Thomas, you better not,” Sarah warned lightly. “You’re better than that.”

“He’s a lady-killer.”

Sarah snorted and had to bring her hand up to her face. “He definitely is not. There has been no lady-killing on his end for a long time.”

“Sarah!” Sam tried again.

“You explain it to him then. Mr. 30s is gonna need the long way round explanation.”

Sam sighed and dragged his hand over his face. “Dammit. Fine. I’m not straight either, alright? I’m...bi, or something. It’s been a while since I’ve had to think about it.”

“What?” Bucky asked, not unlike Sam had.

“He said he’s bisexual. Interested in both parties. Swings either way. Hit a homerun and then hasn’t really swung since.”

“Sarah, Jesus Christ,” Sam groaned.

“What?” Bucky asked again.

“I was engaged. To a man,” Sam said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asked, clearly missing the irony.

“Oh, it was inconvenient for you but I had plenty of opportunities, huh?” Sam asked. “Ms. Tell-It-All over there wasn’t joking. I haven’t swung any direction in a while. Not since before I met Steve. My fiance died. And then it never came up.”

Bucky blinked at Sam. He kept bringing the bottle halfway up his body and then setting it back on his leg without ever taking a drink. “Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry,” Bucky said, which was not what Sarah was expecting and it clearly wasn’t what Sam was expecting because Sam finally moved closer to Bucky on the bench.

“What for? You didn’t do anything. This time.”

“Yeah, but if I’d known you were into me too, I woulda kissed you in Germany.”

“Oh, I am so not into you,” Sam denied. “And I wouldn’t have our first kiss ruined by immediately running into the government’s roving show monkey.”

“That’s the worst,” Bucky agreed and also finally moved over on the bench until they were pressed thigh to thigh. “Tell me how much you don’t like me again,” he challenged.

“I can’t stand you,” Sam answered and brought his hand up to Bucky’s jaw.

Sarah couldn’t fight down the grin that came to her face and turned to prop her feet on the pier, back to Sam and Bucky. Just this once, she didn’t need to watch her brother to understand him.

Read on AO3 here!

[maraudersbutmuggle]

Christmas, 2013. Part 1

Sirius watched as Remus talked with his friend. He didn't know much about him. All Sirius knew was that Remus cared very deeply for him. And Sirius didn't know what to think about it.

"I love you" Remus had said.

And Sirius freaked out because loving was another thing. It made all of this real. And if it became real, Sirius would fuck it up. Like all the relationships he had had. Not only romantic, but any kind of relationship. And Remus was too important for that.

So he didn't say it back. It wasn't that easy.

But God. How much Remus made him feel. Inexplicable things. Good and bad, but inexplicable.

"Okay...okay... Grant slow down...What?..." Silence "Where are you?"

Remus paced with the phone on his ear. They were at the Gryffindor Common Room. They just had a little Christmas party with their friends. It had been heaven. Until Grant called and Remus immediately untangled his fingers from Sirius' hair.

"Who's Grant?" James asked raising an eyebrow.

Sirius haven't met him. Remus briefly talked about him when Sirius asked him if he had snogged other boys. And now he was calling Remus. And Sirius didn't know what to think.

"I don't know" Sirius murmured as he took a sip of his drink "Friend of Remus'"

"Don't get jealous, Sirius" Lily grinned between James' arms.

"I'm not!" Sirius replied, trying not to blush.

"Sirius Black is jealous, and I live to see it" Marlene chanted. Sirius rolled his eyes.

The rest of their friends laughed. They were very understanding with him and Remus. Sirius had been so scared to tell them. And everything had been easier that he had expected. Marlene was gay, which was also a surprise. She was dating Dorcas. And the rest of them treated Sirius as nothing had happened. And James had gave them the "please don't hurt each other" talk to both.

Remus hung up. And turned to them. Very pale.

"Everything alright, Remus?" Peter asked.

"I... My friend is in trouble. I need to help him" Remus said

As if they were synchronized, James and Sirius stood up at the same time.

"We're coming with you!" James said

"Please no" Remus shook his head

"What kind of trouble?" Mary asked

"Mary..." Lily protested

"What? Everything is so mysterious"

"He's been drinking a lot..." Remus sighed

"We all come with you" James said

"No!" Remus said "I'll have to sneak out of Hogwarts. And I don't want to get anyone into trouble"

Remus was already putting on his coat. And Sirius panicked. He couldn't let Remus go alone.

"How are you gonna get there?" Dorcas asked

"Where is he anyway?" Lily added

"In a pub" Remus sighed "He said it was near his Uni. I'll find it"

"Let us come with you" James insisted

"We're not gonna let you go alone..."

Remus shook his head.

"Marauders stick together" Peter said

"I have to go..."

"With me" Sirius interrupted.

Everyone turned to look at him. Remembering he was even there. It was unusual for Sirius not to speak.

Remus looked at him. He didn't protest. Sirius saw it in his eyes. Remus was saying: "I need you Pads".

"Seems fair" Lily said worried. Like a sweet mother "You have to be careful, though"

"How are you gonna get there?" James asked "Remus' friend is in London, right?"

"Train" Sirius answered, before Remus could say anything "We'll take the train"

"And we'll spend the night at mine" Remus added, staring at Sirius' eyes. Sirius swallowed. Remus' eyes had an intensity he couldn't describe.

They had shared a bed, and done things. But still.

"What about McGonagall?" Peter asked

"Or Dumbledore" Marlene added

"We'll cover them" James grinned

"And they barely remember who stayed and left home. It's Christmas" Lily shrugged

"And we have Mr. and Mrs. Potter as Head Boy and Girl on our side" Mary teased.

Everyone laughed releasing the tension. James smiled. Lily blushed.

"Shut up! We're not married"

"Yet" James added. And Lily blushed more.

"Okay... We have to go now" Remus said worried "It's a long ride there"

They went quickly to their dorm and grabbed evething they would need.

"Padfoot" Remus said. And Sirius stopped moving. He looked at him.

"I'm glad you're coming. Thank you" he smiled.

"Don't worry Moony. I'll do anything for you"

He almost said those three words. But he couldn't.

Sirius and Remus said goodbye to their friends.

"Will you be here for Christmas?" James asked "It's last Christmas at Hogwarts"

They promised to spend the day together. Last Christmas at Hogwarts. It was a big deal.

"We'll be here tomorrow afternoon" Sirius promised "We won't miss Christmas. Right Moony?"

But Remus was too worried to care. He just nodded.

They took the next train to London at Hogsmeade station. They took their seats. And Remus was very silent and distant.

"We'll be in London around midnight" Sirius said, searching for Remus' eyes. But they were lost on the window "Is that okay?"

"Okay..."

Sirius grabbed Remus' hand. It was the first time he did it in public. Remus turned to look.

I lov... Nop, he couldn't.

"Your friend will be alright" Sirius said instead.

Remus just rested his head on Sirius' shoulder. Sirius' heart jumped on his chest.

"I hope so, Pads"

[connorandersons-blog]

The Perfect Interview

Connor is offered an interview with an elusive CEO of an upcoming company. He expected many things but not for the man to be absolutely gorgeous and the company to be perfect for him. Hopefully he can keep himself in check for the interview.

Or: You’re interviewing me for a job at your company, but you’re distractingly attractive and all I can picture is us making out on your desk.

(A RK1K fic!)

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

Connor straightens his tie for the fifth time since he had gotten dressed. Which was an hour and a half ago but he still felt his outfit was a bad decision. It wasn't like he even had that much to pick from, but still. A white button-down, nice slacks, and a tie seemed a bit too plain now.

But he couldn't go back now or he'd be late for his interview. His interview with a very prestigious CEO of a major upcoming company. Connor had heard so many things about the man but never had actually seen him. No one had, it was actually a pretty big mystery.

Connor assumed he'd be an old white man like every other CEO, but he wasn't going to judge. Hell, he was being offered the job interview, no way he was turning this opportunity down. To be head of security and even a possible bodyguard for said CEO was a massive opportunity. He knew he wasn't the only one to have gotten the offer but he had to make a good first impression.

Yet his hands shook as he stared up at the tall building he had arrived at. Connor actually adored the city, he loved having so many places he could go and most within walking distance. He had passed this very building plenty of times but never thought he'd work there.

The skyscraper towered above him as great monoliths of concrete and glass. But there was something rather unique about this one. It has balconies with plants and solar panels, but on the ground held even more green. It had an abundance of flowers meant to attract bees and Connor smiled.

The CEO may be allusive but he certainly cared about the planet, his customers, and his workers. That's what made this so incredible, it was a perfect company to work for. It has gotten threats because of its strong views, hence the need for more (new and improved) security for the company as a whole but also for the CEO.

He took in a slow deep breath before walking into the building. His breath was caught at the enormous tree growing in the middle of the large room. He hasn't expected that, but the tree was definitely real and looked rather healthy too. Comfortable benches with cushions let those sit and relax around the tree. Connor noted a coffee and tea stand that many stopped by. Most also handed over an identical card, while others used cash or something else

Many people roamed around and he was pleasantly shocked at the diversity. He even saw several people with mobility aids moving around as well. He felt his heart stutter at the very visible rainbow flag that said 'Love is Love'. Damn, he really wanted to work here.

Now to meet the CEO, well the receptionist who would send him up to the CEO's secretary who would then let him see the CEO. So, two people, he was guaranteed to meet first.

He walked up to the counter with a confident and friendly smile on his face. Though, his father had said he had a 'derpy smile and should stick with a indifferent face'. "Hello, my name is Connor Anderson and I'm here for an interview." His voice didn't even shake!

The woman looks up and smiles gently at him. That's something odd about her. No, not odd, different, and inquisitive. It's almost like she can see into his soul, it kind of makes him want to turn tail and run.

"Hello, it's wonderful to meet you. You will do well, Markus is on the top floor, you're free to go up now." She nodded towards the elevators and Connor couldn't help but give her an awkward smile.

That was a bit ominous but he shrugs it off as he makes his way to the elevators. There aren't many people in there but none seem too shocked he's going to the top, instead, they seem curious. Not in the cruel way some older adults are, but simply wondering who he was. He was a new face and it seemed plenty of people knew each other as they talked softly.

The elevator ride isn't long but it still feels like an eternity before he reaches the top. The top floor doesn't even have that much in it, not that Connor can see. There is a meeting room, which Connor assumes holds the most crucial meetings. There is the room where assumes the CEO will be behind, and three others that he can see.

There is also the secretary's area which is as large as a room but without a door. He walks up, and the woman sitting there looks up. Her face is fierce and almost stern as she looks him over. If he didn't know any better it would look like he was meat and she was deciding if he was good enough to eat or not. Not in the sexual way, though, he got massive lesbian vibes off her.

Her name tag said North, that was a unique name but oddly fitting and rather pretty too.

She is stunning, frown and all. Her strawberry blonde hair drapes over her shoulder in a loose braid, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "Anderson. Connor Anderson, right?" She asks.

"Yes, that's me. I'm supposed to have an interview at 2?" He didn't lean on the counter, simply stood with his arms by his side, trying to appear open.

She nods and types something on her computer. "Alright, you can go in." She nodded to the door and Connor beamed at her.

"Thank you." She gave a small nod, watching him attentively. Damn, she could be security with the intensity of her stare. He definitely wouldn't fuck with anyone behind that door.

He knocked before entering, closing the door behind him. Oh shit. He would gladly fuck the man sitting there, though. His skin was a beautiful color, making his two-colored eyes stand out even more. He wore a wine red, slim-fit, three-piece suit. He had a black button-down making him look even sharper. He sat there in the aristocratic cutting lines of a great tailor, showing off the best parts of him.

The man had shoulders for days and when he stood up with a smile Connor was ready to melt. Or even drop to his knees. He was most definitely not a white old man.

Hot CEO who cared about people? Yeah, Connor was swooning. He also had a small scar over one of his eyes that had Connor transfixed. "H-hi, my name is Connor. I'm here for an interview." God, he was gay. So very, very gay. He was actually bi, but right now he only had eyes for the man in front of him.

"Markus Manfred, it's wonderful to meet you, Connor." He offered a hand that Connor readily took. It was so warm and a bit thicker than Connor's own. He didn't want to let go, but holding on too long could be a red flag. "Please sit."

Connor nodded and sat down, feeling spectacularly undressed. Though, he'd love for Markus to undress him even more. "Thank you for having me. I must say, I was a bit surprised at the offer and the fact my interview would be with you personally."

He expected a manager or someone for HR at least. Not that he wasn't absolutely thrilled at this, he'd gladly meet Markus again and again.

Markus's laugh was what he assumed angels sounded like. "It is a bit different, but I think that's how most see the whole company. Since we would be working so close, I prefer to get a feel for you myself."

'Please feel me up,' Connor thought, his face flushing at the thought. He needed a cold shower and a slap to the face. "I think what you've done is admirable, it's far more than most would do."

"Far more? You believe there is more I could do?" Markus leaned forward on his desk, a small upturn to his lips. Those lips probably would feel so good on his own, or kissing down his neck.

Right, he needed to focus. Connor wasn't one to stay too quiet about his opinions even in the face of very powerful men. "Yes, you are very secretive, which I can understand. But there aren't nearly enough men of color in power that is shown. I believe you could do a lot of good as a role model for youth of color."

He himself was white, but he tried to stay up to date on the world and attempted to use his voice to amplify those who were silenced.

Markus's eyes widen at Connor's words. "I'm… I have thought of that. Thank you for your honesty, it's definitely refreshing."

Connor smiled and gave a humble nod. "Of course. If anything, I pride myself on my integrity." So being blunt played off, thank god.

Markus gave a deep hum. What would he sound like getting sucked off? Was he the loud type or was he silent? This was so inappropriate, but Connor couldn't seem to stop. "I can see that. Now, I've read over your resume, your qualifications are… impressive. May I ask why you quit your last job?"

And there it was. Luckily he doubted this would actually be too much of a problem. "My boss was manipulative and was known for sexually harassing female workers. I confronted him about it and he denied it, of course. The women are currently in the process of filing reports with the police." He was still in contact with multiple of them. Echo and Ripple were sweet girls and didn't deserve what happened to them.

Markus frowns and leans back into his chair. "I see. I can promise that will not happen here. If it does it will be handled and sent to the police as well. We have a zero-tolerance policy." He smoothed his hands over the desk and Connor followed his hands. They'd feel so excellent holding Connor, maybe even have Connor sit on the desk.

Still, they went through the normal interview questions. Before each question Connor paused, head tilted to one side just a smidge, and then he delivered an articulate answer. He honestly thought it was one of the best interviews he's been in. Other than the whole fantasizing thing. It was almost natural, their back and forth.

Connor ended up learning a lot about Markus, including that he didn't like being called Mr. Manfred, and he really wanted to get a pet at some point. Connor talked about himself, saying how he had a dog he snagged from his father every other week. It was almost like a date, and a really good one too.

Still, the urge to lean across the desk and kiss the man senseless was powerful. So strong he couldn't stop biting and licking his lips. He knew he was being obvious, but Markus hadn't called him out on it.

There were pictures on his desk too. A few caught his eye. The first was a picture of Markus in plain clothes with North and two other people. They were all grinning widely and leaning into each other.

Another was of Markus and one of the men in the pictures, he was pale with blonde hair, he was leaning into Markus and placing a kiss on his cheek. Markus was laughing in the picture and someone with dark skin, Connor assumed the other man from the first picture, held up bunny ears behind both of their heads.

It was oddly adorable, seeing Markus so relaxed with his friends. Connor hoped to see that side of him too one day, even if he didn't get the job.

"I will say," Markus grinned, cocking his head to the side, "you are the best I've spoken to so far." Connor didn't think he was lying either. That bode well for the job, which could lead to a friendship then maybe even more. "It has been absolutely wonderful meeting you," he handed over his card, "I'll give you a call when we've made a decision."

Connor took it as he stood, looking it over. It was a simple card, it wasn't one you'd give out to everyone. If Connor's instincts were right, then the number printed on it would be Markus' personal cell. "Then why are you giving me your number?"

"In case you want to call me." Markus tipped his head, his eyes seemingly sparkling.

"Oh." Connor bit his lip, flushing a deep red. Perhaps Markus was interested too, in more than Connor getting the job. It would be far from professional, but Connor knew how to keep the two separate. Hopefully, Markus did too. "Ok, thank you."

Markus offered his hand again and this time they both lingered, staring at each other. Connor broke away first, chuckling. "I, yeah, ok. I guess I'll hear from you or you'll hear from me." Either way, they would talk again.

He couldn't help the smile that was covered his face as he left the office. He glanced at North who raised an eyebrow at him again before snorting. "Oh thank god, he needs to get laid," North muttered but Connor still heard. He hid his smile before walking back to the elevator. Best interview ever.

[thompsborn]

I'm ~indecisive~ so either parkner, parksborn, or ot3 (Peter/harley/harry), OR just something Harley centric pleeaassee love you hope you're doing well 😊💗💗

wasteland, baby by hozier

be still, my indelible friend

you are unbreaking

though quaking

though crazy

that's just wasteland, baby

[send me a character/ship/dynamic/etc. and i’ll put my music on shuffle and write a drabble/one shot based on the first song that plays!]

-

i have literally no clue what happened with this, literally i saw the song and was like wow yes hozier song for a harley centric ot3 one shot? perfect! and then it just. devolved? evolved? developed. somehow. into this gay panic lonely tennessee boy meeting two dumb fucked up and traumatized boys on a road trip before they start college and ??? i have no fucking clue tbh

tw: internalized homophobia, classic southern rose hill homophobia, a much thicker version of southern accent typing than i usually do, vague mentions/hints of toxic/abusive home life via one mr harry osborn, basically just canon based trauma but only talked about in passing

-

Harley feels life like a pressure pushing down on his chest.

It isn’t heavy, per se, but it isn’t light, either - rather a constant weight, comfortable at times, overwhelming at others. He will carry it down the street like a backpack strapped around his shoulders and pressed into the dimples at the base of his spine and he may wince and he may want to whine, but he’ll just smile with the warmth of sunshine radiating from his skin like he is the sun itself, and he will nod his head in greeting at any lonesome soul he passes.

Lonesome as him, at least. Lonesome as lonesome could ever really get.

He’s got his Mama, is the thing—and he loves his Mama with all he’s got, feels it seize up in his chest sometimes, his heart palpitating rapidly as it tries to process just how much love he holds in his chest like a secret he can’t quite share. Got his Mama and his sister, Annabelle, and her missing teeth that she loves to show off with every dimple cheeked grin that she flashes them, a nine year old girl who loves to have her hair braided back and resting between her shoulder blades like a signature, something that is solely hers. Harley can’t see braids without thinking of Belle and her crinkly nose and the laugh lines around her eyes when she can’t stop the chortles that rise from her chest. Belle and their Mama are all that he’s really got, and he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

But he wonders if there’s anyone out there who would really understand what he means when he says, “Life just feels a bit heavy today.” His Mama tries to, but she doesn’t get it, feels the pressures and the struggles of life differently than he does, because he knows she feels the aches and pains just as much as him, if not more so, but she has an energy that he doesn’t seem to have access to, an ability to chime a laugh without feeling like it’s too heavy in her poor lungs to make much of a sound. Belle doesn’t show any of the signs that Harley did when he was her age of any sort of weight pushing down her shoulders, because he felt it early, early, early—far too early than any child ever deserves, but he saw his father walk out that door with a half-assed smile and an unconvincing promise to return and that weight appeared like a lump in his throat and a stinging of tears behind his eyes and it’s only grown and shifted and intensified since then, really, but Belle doesn’t seem to have that weight, or any weight at all, and Harley hopes to the heavens above (that scare him shitless on a good day, really) that she never has to feel like him.

Because he is horribly, terrifyingly alone, sometimes. Sitting on the sofa with his Mama sitting to his right, his sister curled up in between them, letting out endearing little snorts when something funny happens in whatever show they’re watching, and his Mama could be brushing back his hair like she did when he was a kid, Belle could be snuggled in his lap and laughing into his chest, he could be surrounded by the two most important people in his life, the only two people in his life, and he could still stare at that television screen and feel a gaping wound in his chest that nothing can fill. There’s weight, pressure, heaviness--and an emptiness, in the center of it all. A vacancy that may never be filled. Like the eye of a hurricane that never seems to rest.

Then a far too fancy looking car rolls up in Rose Hill, parks itself in the dirt lot of the only motel in town, and everything seems to shift.

“I’m Harry,” one of the oddities tells him, when Harley stops by Rita’s Diner because his Mama is taking Belle to a doctor’s appointment in the next town over but wanted him to pick up her paycheck for her. The guy looks nothing like anyone in Rose Hill ever has, a sleek black blazer over a white shirt with a slogan that Harley can’t read from where he’s standing, dark blue skinny jeans and a fancy kind of tennis shoes that don’t have a smudge of dirt on them, his hand extended towards Harley, head tilted to the side, eyes green and piercing as they scan over Harley in some kind of intrigue.

Harley’s been born and raised to be polite, so he shakes the guys hand and says, “Harley Keener. Nice t’meet you, Harry...?”

The ends of Harry’s lips curve, twist. “Lyman,” he fills in, brow quirking. There’s a quiet snort that fills in the gap of silence that follows, and then Harry is turning, hand still clutching Harley’s in an almost hand shake, looking at the guy sitting beside him and reading the menu with amusement on his features. “What?”

“Nothing,” the guy says, glancing towards Harry before immediately looking away and having to smother a laugh in his palm. Harley takes a moment to examine this guy, too - sticking out just as much as Harry is with his beige skinny jeans (kind of like khaki’s, but nothing like them, at the same time) and a dark grey hoodie, looking far too thick for the sunny day outside. His hair is swooped across his forehead in wisps of curls, brown eyes glimmering. “Nothing,” he says again, more insistent, though it doesn’t sound convincing as he giggles more.

Harry rolls his eyes, turning back to Harley with a grimace, though his eyes shine in a way that makes it obvious that he isn’t actually annoyed. “Don’t mind him,” he says, gaze flickering down to where Harley is still clasping his hand. Harley pulls back as soon as he notices, yanks his hand away a little too fast. It makes Harry’s nose crinkle, for a second, and then smooth. “That’s Peter.”

Giggles waves a hand vaguely in Harley’s direction, then looks away. Harley isn’t sure what to make of that. “What’s he laughing at?”

“Nothing important,” Harry assures with a shrug. “You’re from here, I’m guessing?” Then, with his newly freed hand, he gestures towards Harley’s clothes, the smudge of dirt on his cheek, the slight sunburn on the bridge of his nose and the freckles dotting his skin. “I don’t mean to assume, you just look a lot like a local.”

“Well, I’d bet I do, since you definitely don’t,” Harley muses, brow quirking, resting a hip on the edge of the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t mean to assume either, but neither of you are from ‘round here, huh?”

Harry’s smile widens while Peter flips a fork round and round between his nimble looking fingers. If Harley looks closer, he thinks he can see those fingers shaking, yet it doesn’t seem to hinder Peter’s ability to spin the fork with a flawless sort of ease. It makes him intrigued. Confused, too. A bit unsure. He doesn’t get the chance to voice any of it, though.

Julianna, the manager that’s working today, brings Harley his mama’s paycheck, wrapped up in a neat white envelope with Keener scrawled across the front in scratchy script. Harley tips his head in parting when he leaves, and he catches a glimpse of Peter leaning towards Harry with something forming through a whisper of his lips, so close that he brushes against Harry’s ear as he speaks.

He thinks of them the rest of the day. He isn’t quite sure why, but he does.

(Maybe it was the hand in his, or the way Peter couldn’t stop giggling under his breath like there was a joke that no one else knew but him. Maybe the curiosity that Harley felt bubbling in his chest had, for even just a fraction of a moment, filled that cavern the slightest bit.)

-

“You seem distracted, honeybun,” Margaret Keener says over dinner that night, swooping blonde bangs out of her eyes as she glances towards her eldest child, her eighteen year old son with his shoulders hunched down on himself as he uses his fork to push his food around his plate. Maggie keeps her eyes on Harley, but turns her head to address Belle as she says, “Doesn’t he look distracted, Tinker Bell? Looks a little lost in his head, don’t he?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Annabelle responds, nodding her head politely before shoveling a bite of broccoli salad into her mouth. She speaks around her food, using her own fork to gesture towards her brother, and tells their mama, “Candy Jones was tellin’ me that her daddy saw Harley talkin’ to those city boys stayin’ at the inn.”

Harley shoots his sister a sharp glare while a flicker of understanding sparks in their mama’s eyes. “I see,” she drawls, setting her fork down to prop her chin in her hand, resting in the curve of her palm as she smiles at her son.

“It’s nothin’, Mama,” he grumbles, shrinking in his seat under her knowing stare.

Sounding amused, Maggie says, “Doesn’t sound like nothin’, honeybun. If Annabelle can tell me about her crushes, then you can tell me about yours.”

Instantly, Harley is looking at his sister in bewilderment. “You got crushes?”

Annabelle shovels more food in her mouth. “Maybe,” she says around it all, brows raising in a way that challenges him to say something about it.

“But you’re a baby,” Harley says.

“I’m almost ten,” Belle corrects. “Mama said it was okay, Harls. Right, Mama?”

Maggie nods. “Yes I did,” she says, though her eyes are glued to her son. “’Cause there ain’t nothin’ wrong with having crushes. It’s a natural part of life. So, Harley, why don’t you tell me about these city boys?”

“There’s nothin’ to tell,” Harley insists, looking at his mama with wide eyes. “Honest, Mama. I talked to ‘em for a few minutes while I was waitin’ for Julianna to bring me your check, but nothin’ happened. We just talked. I don’t even know how y’all know that they’re from a city.”

Belle lets out a huff. “Word spreads fast in this town, Harley,” she tells him. “You’d know that if you had any friends that you could talk to.”

“Annabelle Ray Keener, you watch yourself,” Maggie scolds, turning her eyes to her daughter with lowered brows. Belle ducks her head, looks away with red creeping up the back of her neck. “You say sorry to your brother. That was uncalled for, little miss. We don’t talk to each other that way, you hear me?”

Belle sighs. “Sorry, Harls,” she murmurs.

Harley’s head is bowed, ends of his lips tugged down in a frown. “S’alright,” he mutters in response, glancing up at Maggie through his lashes and sounding like nothing but a boy rather than the fresh adult that he is. “I ain’t got nothin’ else to say, Mama. We just talked for a few minutes. They seemed weird, but nice.”

“If you say so, baby,” Maggie softly replies, smile gentle and kind.

He doesn’t say much else for the rest of dinner.

-

Only a few days later, as Harley is strolling down the streets leading from his house to the mechanic shop that he works at part time during the summers, he sees them again. It’s a particularly hot day, and the weight of life is particularly heavy, and he sees them in the only park resting near the center of Rose Hill, small and meek but all that the town really needs. Peter is siting on one of the swings on the old rickety swing set that Harley has personally had to fix dozens of times since learning how to at the age of eleven, and Harry is pushing him, the two of them looking bright and happy under the sunlight. Laughter chimes in the air when Peter says something that has Harry doubling over, and the smug sort of grin that grows on Peter’s face says that he was hoping for that reaction.

Harley stands there for a few short moments, just watches in silent curiosity, and then he walks over without a second thought. Takes his time, doesn’t want to interrupt but can’t stop himself as he approaches, until they spot him, no more than ten feet away, and they quiet quickly, watching as he slows to a stop just a short distance from them. “You’re from the city,” he says - first thing that comes to mind, and the silence makes him itch, so he throws caution to the wind. Adds, as an afterthought, “My sister heard people in town talkin’ ‘bout it. Is that true?”

There’s a short pause, where Peter looks over his shoulder and Harry meets his eyes briefly, and then they’re looking back and Peter is saying, “Yeah, it’s true.”

“Which one?” Harley questions, curious. He makes a point of raking his eyes over their outfits, which still stand out just as much as the ones that they were wearing last time did. “Doesn’t look like anywhere in Tennessee, I assume?”

“Good assumption, cowboy,” Harry grins. “We’re New York, born and raised.”

Harley tilts his head, brows raising. “Cowboy?”

Peter clicks his tongue, tilts back on the swing until he’s practically hanging upside down, hair brushing against the wood chips of the playground, and then he kicks out his legs and uses an odd sort of momentum to swing back up until he’s sitting, grin wide and toothy as he meets Harley’s eyes. “Southern people use nicknames,” he says with a light laugh. “We thought cowboy suited you.”

“It does?” Harley asks, even more confused. “Y’all were talkin’ about me?”

“Y’all,” Harry repeats, an overjoyed and amused sort of look on his face.

Peter cocks his head slightly to the side, brows quirking, just a bit. “Of course we were talking about you,” he says. “Not everyday you meet a cute cowboy, right?”

That makes Harley freeze, heart stuttering over a beat in his chest, and it feels like what he always thought a stupid high school crush should feel like, his lungs weak and his face warm as he looks away, brings up a hand to run his fingers nervously through his hair. “Oh.”

Harry yanks Peter’s ear lobe lightly and snarkily asks, “What happened to subtlety, Parker?”

“What happened to transparency, Osborn?”

Instantly, Harry is shoving Peter’s shoulder, not too harsh but not exactly kindly, either. Peter exaggerates the push and falls out of the swing dramatically, tumbling into the wood chips with a bright laugh. Harry murmurs, “You’re such a dick,” even as he rounds the swing to help pull Peter to his feet, brushing off the dirt from Peter’s shirt and shaking his head with a sigh.

“You chose me,” Peter counters, grinning.

Harry rolls his eyes, but a smile pulls at his lips, like he can’t quite fight it. “Dumbest decision I’ve ever made,” he says, pulling Peter closer to him, until they’re chest to chest. “And I let you talk me into this trip, so that says a lot, Pete.”

Peter huffs. “Play the part of the Negative Nancy,” he says, leaning in until their noses brush. “Act like I don’t know any better. As if I don’t know you better than you know yourself.”

“Cocky,” Harry grins. “Y’know, we could put some of that confidence to work if you—”

And then Peter kisses him.

Harley feels like he’s intruding on a moment that was never meant for him, standing a few feet away, feeling frozen and unsure. Part of him knows that the proper thing to do would be to walk away, to leave the situation before it can get too awkward, but there’s a pull, something in his gut that tugs and insists he stay exactly where he is. Not that he could resist that insistence even if he wanted to, because his feet are rooted to the ground like a tree that’s been growing in place for centuries, an unwavering and unmovable object.

Warmth climbs up his neck, blossoms across his cheeks as he simply watches, unable to do much else, while Harry brings up a hand to cup Peter’s jaw, as Peter rests his hands on Harry’s waist and they mould together, like they’re filling in the spaces of one another. It looks as natural as breathing, the way they lean together, the way they pull away in sync, how everything seems to be perfectly timed with one another. Harley feels it clog in his throat, that suffocating lonesome feeling he carries around so much—has to clear his throat in order to breathe around it, but the noise just draws two pairs of eyes to him.

There isn’t any surprise or embarrassment, like they had forgotten he was there—rather, there’s an equal sense of content, as if they were happy to see he hadn’t fled. He clears his throat again, looks over Harry’s shoulder to stare unseeingly at the trees behind the swingset. “I didn’t know...” he trails off, tongue tied.

“We don’t usually flaunt it,” Harry offers, hand sliding from Peter’s jaw to his shoulder, keeps it there even as they step apart. One of Peter’s hands continues to clutch the fabric of Harry’s jacket, like he simply refuses to let him go.

Harley swallows roughly. “Usually?”

A smile tugs at Peter’s lips. “Usually.”

“Huh.” Harley looks away, over his shoulder, rubs at the back of his neck. They’re intriguing, is the thing—something about them is pulling him in, making it impossible to walk away. He can’t place his finger on it. “Um, I... I heard—you said trip? That’s why y’all are here? On a trip?”

“A getaway,” Harry offers, tilting his head back and forth, nose crinkled. “Of sorts. I’m emancipated and told Pete that I was thinking about spending a few weeks away from the city, just to take a break before we start our first year at college. He thought of a road trip, and we just... we just started driving. No destination in mind, you know? Just enough shit to last a couple weeks and enough money to keep the tank full, and then we ended up here.”

Harley looks back at them suddenly, because that... he has always wanted to do that. To leave, if just for a little bit, and take a break from how empty and lonely he feels in Rose Hill. He’s always wanted to drive to the nearest city, drive out of the state, explore. But it costs so much, it takes so much time, and his mama... his sister... leaving them, even temporarily—

That’s why he stays. For them. Always.

It takes a moment for him to string together a response, struggling to remember the conversation, what he wanted to say. Eventually, he manages to ask, “Why here?”

Peter rakes his eyes over Harley, the farthest thing from subtle. “Seems interesting,” he says.

“Why not?” Harry asks, his grin wide, toothy.

Harley smiles back—slow, careful, but he does.

-

There’s an old backpack thrown over his shoulders, dusty and dingy from sitting in the hall closet for so long, but it’s stocked up with snacks, jams and jellies and crackers and a couple jars of his mama’s homemade lemonade, lids screwed up tight.

He tells himself he grabbed so much food because he knows he’s gonna spend the whole day at the pond near the edge of Mr. Samson’s property, the one that Harley helps maintain during the winter months that he’s been given permission to go swimming in whenever he wants. He tells himself that he goes to town first to grab a loaf of bread because he has the feeling he’ll be craving jam sandwiches later, too. Tells himself all these lies until he finally comes across them, sitting besides the road with ice cream cones in hand, chatting to themselves under the warm sun.

As soon as Harley sees them, he freezes, doubt creeping into his mind. None of this was for him, he knows—he packed so much and came up with excuses to wander around town in the hopes of seeing them, of inviting them, but now that they’re in front of his eyes, nerves start to crawl up his throat and lock his jaw shut. He tightens his fingers around one of the backpack straps, knuckles turning white.

Harry happens to see him while glancing around, and then he grins, featuring lighting up as if he was hoping to see Harley just as much as Harley was hoping to run into them. As soon as Harry’s posture changes, Peter spins around, scans their surroundings until he finds Harley, too, and then it isn’t a matter of Harley approaching them—rather, the two of them scramble to their feet and make their way towards him, instead. The hands that aren’t holding their ice cream cones are twisted together between them, swinging lightly.

“There’s—” Harley falters, scrapes his teeth over his lower lip and looks around anxiously. “I just... there are a lotta not-so-friendly people here. People that... frown on—on gay people, y’know? I dunno—I just... if you care, I, um—”

The sun bounces off of Harry’s emerald eyes on a way that might have been menacing, if it weren’t paired with the small smile gracing his lips. “People can think what they want,” he says with the wave of his hand. “We don’t care.”

Harley shifts his weight from one foot to the other, keeps glancing around nervously. “I don’t think you understand. They’ll get violent, if they see—if they see y’all holding hands. They’re ruthless. You could get really hurt.”

There’s something sharp and understanding in Peter’s features. “Have they hurt you?”

“I’m not—” Harley stops, bites back the instinctive denial that tries to claw it’s way out from the back of his throat. It’s been years since he told his mama and his sister, since he spit bloody globs of saliva onto the contrete and cried because the bullies weren’t just ruthless, they were right, they knew, somehow, what he refused to admit for so long. It’s why he hides it now, from everyone other than Mama and Belle. He never knows if they’ll hurt him or not. But there’s a genuine knowing reflected in both Harry and Peter’s eyes, like they could see his pain, like they’ve felt it. He doesn’t feel the need to lie to them.

That fact terrifies him endlessly.

He clenches his jaw, juts his chin up in a choppy sort of nod. “They used to,” he says. “Before I learned how’ta fight back. Still spout shit ‘bout me all god damn day, but words don’t matter. I know better ‘en to listen to ‘em. But y’all... you’re city boys, right? The guys in town, they’ll think you’re weak. They’ll start shit, and they always finish whatever shit they start.”

“I can take ‘em,” Peter assures.

Harley pauses. “Um...”

“He looks scrawny,” Harry says, “but he’s right. If anyone bugs us, he’ll win.”

Harley wants to protest that, mostly because Peter is at least three inches shorter than him and looks like he’d struggle to do a push up underneath the sweatshirts he keeps on wearing, but there’s so much confidence in both if their voices that Harley feels like it’d be stupid to disagree. Instead, he adjusts his backpack and wets his lower lip, battling internally for a moment before blurting out, “Do y’all wanna go swimming with me?”

There’s a short pause, before Harry shares a smile with Peter. “Come again, cowboy?”

Harley flushes, just a bit, and stares down at the toes of his shoes with narrowed eyes. “There’s a pond,” he says, tone almost defensive, already expecting this to go wrong somehow. “It’s a little bit out of town, but it’s nice, kept clean and looked after, y’know? And it’s never busy like the lake out past the school. I was gonna go, and it was brought to my attention that I don’t have any friends and I don’t wanna go alone, and I—I thought—”

“We’ll go,” Peter says. “Right now?”

Harley shifts the weight of his backpack again, glances up in surprise, but knows better than to question a miracle. “If y’all aren’t busy.”

Peter looks at Harry. “Are we busy?”

“Not at all,” Harry answers with a grin.

It takes a quick stop at the motel for them to change into something they can swim in and multiple stammered out reassurances that there’s plenty of food and drinks in his bag for them to share, but they eventually amble over to the pond on foot, Peter and Harry scanning over the place in appreciation while Harley sets down his backpack and starts to unload it all.

“Christ,” Harry says with a laugh when he sees just how much there is. “Were you planning on having a party or something? That’s a lot.”

Harley shakes his head, feels his face burn, just the slightest bit. “Nah, jus’ wanted to make sure there was plenty to last all day.” Then, holding out the loaf of bread, Harley asks, “Sandwich? I got blackberry jam, and raspberry, and—and some apple butter, and there’s—peanut butter and almond butter, so if either of y’all’re allergic to peanuts, I—”

Peter reaches over, settles nimble fingers around Harley’s wrist and smiles. “You packed all this food for us, didn’t you?”

“I...” Harley has to swallow the lump that forms suddenly in his throat. “I just wanted to make sure that there were plenty of options.”

“You’re so sweet,” Peter coos, bringing Harley’s hand down to rest against his chest, palm settled over his beating heart. Harley feels his own heart start to march over the contact, features burning with a bright blush that must look even more sharp under the summer sun.

Harley settles in that for a long moment, breathes in slowly, glances through his lashes to see the way Harry is watching them with intrigue and interest in his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, Harley just clears his throat and croaks out, “Y’all wanna go swimmin’ now?”

With a playful grin and something sharp shining in his eyes, Harry says, “Sure, cowboy,” and reaches down to pull his shirt off.

Harley should have thought this through.

He should have—Christ, does he feel dumber than all hell right now, looking like those idiot pre-teens that burn scarlet at the pool parties in all those stupid movies, the blush reaching the tips of his ears in seconds as he immediately turns his eyes upward to stare at the clouds, almost holding his breath until he realizes that’ll just make his face even redder than it already is. How had the fact that swimming would likely entail a lot of bare skin not crossed his mind? He could have thought of anything else, like going to a movie, or—or roller skating, at the rink a couple towns over, or—

Anything other than this, because it’s a lot harder to act like he isn’t a (mostly) closeted gay dumbass when the most attractive boys he has ever seen are standing five feet away from him, shirtless and grinning like sharks, powerful and hungry and knowing the power they hold.

At least, that’s what it feels like when one of Harry’s hands wraps ‘round Peter’s wrist while Peter’s other hand taps a knuckle lightly against Harley’s chin, a gentle gesture that encourages Harley to lower his gaze—which he does, after a few moments, having to remind himself to breathe normally as he brings his eyes down to glance between swirling chocolate’s and dazzling green’s.

“You can look,” Peter tells him, head tilted, corners of his eyes crinkled with a lovable, boyish sort of grin. “We don’t mind.”

Harley’s mouth feels dry.

Before Harley can try to string together an attempt at a response, Harry cuts in, sounds matter of fact and damn near professional when he informs Harley, “And you can like what you see. It’s okay. We like what we see, too.”

“That’s...” Harley trails off, looks away and looks back because there’s a gravitational pull that he just can’t seem to fight. “That’s... allowed?”

With his nose crinkling up, Harry laughs. “Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Harley wets his lower lip. “‘Cause y’all’re... you’re together, yeah? And on a trip, gonna be leavin’ soon, I bet, and I’m—I’m the idiot from the close minded Southern town. And you don’t... y’all don’t know me. I don’t know you, either, really, jus’ that I—I, um—uh—”

It’s Peter that steps forward, head tilting to the side, just slightly. Almost puppy like, if it weren’t for the sharpness in his eyes. The ends of his lips pull back, until he’s sporting a soft and gentle sort of smile, but something about it feels damaged, too, in a way that Harley can’t quite put a finger on. “Give yourself some credit, cowboy,” he says. “Harry thinks you’re hot and I can’t get enough of your accent, and that’s just what we thought after three minutes of talking at that diner, alright? Sure, we don’t know you, and, fuck, you definitely don’t know shit about us, but there’s something, right?”

The thing is, Harley isn’t an articulate guy. His brain is capable of endless things, he’s smarter than anyone will ever be able to give him credit for, sure, but when he’s nervous, in a situation that’s unfamiliar and hard to maneuver, his instinct is to duck his head and change the subject. Which is why he freezes completely, even though he knows this is an opening, even though Peter and Harry just fully and openly admitted to being attracted to him, at least on a surface level, and Harley—he’s never had anyone interested in him before. None of the girls at school ever swooned over him, none of the boys tried to woo him with flowers and cheesy dates. He was just the Keener boy, with the blond waves that sometimes dry in ringlets that hang in his eyes when it rains, the sloped nose that’s just a bit crooked from breaking it a few too many times over the years (clumsy, at times; unlucky run ins with bullies, for the most part), the jean jacket that almost always has on, pulled over plain t-shirts in the summer, thick flannels in the winter, dark blue jeans that are old and ripped at the knees, but he can’t bother to replace them. He’s a graduate barely two months out of high school and his future’s already set, laid out and chosen for him.

Stay in Rose Hill. Die in Rose Hill. Maybe grow old, somewhere in between. Hopefully content, at peace, but he ain’t bettin’ money on that. Probably work at the mechanic shop full time once it becomes clear that he’ll never afford to go to college and he won’t get anywhere without a degree. Besides, Mama says that Rose Hill is home, and he says that home is wherever Mama and Belle are, so there’s no real harm in just going with the flow of things.

But it feels like being offered a taste of forbidden fruit (and, Christ, would his Catholic grandma turn over in her grave if she heard him using such a phrase, daring to reference the holy text in his sin) when gentle fingers brush across his cheek, bringing him back to reality as he sucks in a sharp breath and finds green eyes looking into his, brown ones scanning over his features just as closely, as intently.

Harry smiles, all lopsided. “Wanna swim?”

It’s an offer, an ability to ease the nervous (excited?) churning in his stomach. Harley swallows roughly, waits until his tongue no longer feels tangled up and knotted in his mouth, before saying, “Y-Yeah. Okay.”

(They’re swimming ‘round the pond like little kids until sunset, and Harley walks them back to the motel, ‘cause it’s the nice thing to do, and by the time he gets home, his hair still hanging in his eyes in damp ringlets that Harry had called cute while Peter brushed gentle fingers through them with a grin, there’s a swelling feeling of contentment in his chest.

For a moment, it makes the pressure, weight, heaviness, and that chasm of emptiness in the center of it all that so often overwhelms him, pains him so much, seem like nothing.)

-

They go to the movies the next day, and rollerskating a couple days after that, just because Harley keeps wandering around town while his Mama is at work and Belle is with her friends, going to the lake and having sleepovers because it’s summer and she’s nine and, in a place like Rose Hill, kids start to wander off on their own around the place as soon as they hit first grade. Harley’s got the occasional part time shift at the mechanics, sure, but it’s only ‘bout fifteen hours a week if he’s lucky—five hour shifts, up to three days a week, and with his Mama working so much and Belle having the kind of social life that Harley has never been capable of grasping himself, it’s safe to say there isn’t much else to do to fill up his summer days. Usually, this leaves him terribly lonely, even more so than usual, spending most of his summers in the garage with things to tinker with and a haze over his every thought.

This year, though.

It’s that gravitational pull that Harley thought of before, an otherworldly source guiding him towards these city boys like it’s where he’s supposed to be. He’s always been in the belief that there isn’t a place for him, that he’s just a floater drifting his way among those who really belong, and these two... Harry and Peter are dating—have been for over two years, now, told Harley that they started dating when they were sixteen—and with them is, logically, the last place Harley should feel the most welcome. But, it’s like there’s a space with them, somewhere for him to nestle in, and it feels like it’s purely his own. It feels like his.

Peter is the first to kiss him.

It’s after a day where he wakes up feeling heavier than usual, brain hazed just a bit, chest caving in on that void of emptiness at the center of it all. Mama has a graveyard shift tonight so she passes him in the hall when he shuffles towards the bathroom, presses a kiss to his forehead like he’s a little kid and then makes her way to her room to sleep until it’s time for her to get ready for work, which means that Belle—and her plans to go a few towns over, to go to the sorry excuse for a mall that’s over there, with a couple of her friends—becomes his responsibility to drive around. Which is something he agreed to over dinner last night, but maybe he would have fibbed a bit and said he had his own shift at work if he knew he would wake up feeling like this.

But he takes them, Belle and her two best friends, and spends hours walking ‘round the mall, making sure they’re safe and don’t get lost, holding their bags and offering to pay for all their food when they get hungry at about lunch time, just ‘cause that’s how he was raised to be. By the time he finally parks in the driveway again, all of them having been dropped off at one of the the other girls’ house for a sleepover, his arms are tired, his limbs feel like lead, everything is unclear and slow in his grogginess. He sits behind the wheel for a long time, just trying to breathe like a normal human being, before making his way inside, being greeted bu lights off and silence—Mama already left for work, then. He’s alone.

He’s lonely.

This isn’t anything new—he’s been lonely his whole life, felt it carved into the cavity of his chest like a brand—but it really resonates as he stands there in the entryway, the only light in the room being the slowly setting sun as it shines through the window, illuminates the room with a golden sort of glow. His turns his head so that it’s angled down, curls falling in front of his eyes like a curtain, but even when blocking his vision he can feel it, can hear the distinct lack of sound like a gun shot, save for the distant sound of the washer spinning a load of Mama’s comfy clothes that echoes within his school like an eerie reminder of the fact that no one else is there, and it shouldn’t matter, he’s felt this before and been just fine, but he’s been getting all these little tastes and hints of feeling like he actually belongs somewhere when he’s with Harry and Peter, and knowing what a fraction of companionship feels like...

Harley doesn’t have a cell phone, ‘cause there ain’t no signal in Rose Hill unless you’re on the main road, but that main road is where the diner is, where the bars are, and, of course, the motel. And he happens to have the numbers of two city boys staying at that motel scribbled on a napkin from the rollerskating rink that’s sitting on his nightstand, only just upstairs.

There’s barely a minute of thought before he starts moving towards the staircase, grabbing the house phone along the way, and, a mere fifteen minutes later, he isn’t alone anymore.

He gives them a quick tour of the house after letting them in, mostly because he didn’t actually think of something to do, had only been aching with the need to have someone there, and now he’s basking in the warmth of their presence while trying to figure out something to do in order to not give himself away, but Harry seems a bit more softspoken, Peter keeps brushing fingers against Harley’s shoulder’s, the small of his back, and—

(“I just...” Harley had said over the phone, completely unaware of the empty tone to his words, unable to see the way that the couple had looked at one another, concern and worry and troubled fondness in their eyes. “I’m not busy,” is what Harley had settled on saying, not a lie, but certaintly not the truth. “Are you?”

Peter had been sporting pinched brows and a slight frown. Harry had said, “Never too busy for you, cowboy. What’s the plan?”)

And they end up outside, because Harley takes them out on the backporch for a quick view of the yard and the garden that the Keener’s split responsibility to tend to, and Peter had seen the little campfire set up and insisted they get the stuff for s’mores and have a bonfire. There’s such a simplistic sort of innocent excitement that lights up his features, and it makes Harley wonder— “Have y’all had a campfire b’fore?”

Harry shakes his head. “Always wanted to,” he says. “Pete’s Uncle was actually gonna take us both camping for Pete’s fifteenth birthday, but... um—it didn’t work out, I guess.”

“He passed away,” Peter supplies, when Harley’s brows quirk just slightly, curious but unsure if he should ask. Even Harry looks mildly surprised by the admission, giving Peter a wide eyed look, to which Peter just shrugs and says, “What? I can tell when not to trust someone.” Then, back to Harley, he explains, “My parents died when I was four, so I was raised by my Aunt May and Uncle Ben, but Ben got shot when I was fourteen. I tried to slow the bleeding enough to keep him alive until the ambulance got there, but—yeah. Wasn’t able to, I guess.”

Everything else from before—the heaviness, the loneliness, the ache—it all goes away in an instant, morphing into a shocked sense of dread as he looks into the eyes of the guy he literally called giggles in his head when they met. His tongue is tangled. He has to untangle it slowly before he can ask, “You were there?”

Peter shrugs again, but he looks away.

“Christ, Darlin’,” Harley chokes out, shaking his head. “Yeah, we can have s’mores. We can—so many s’mores, as many as ya’want. Jesus.”

“Shit cards,” Peter says. “They happen.” Then, perking up like they weren’t just talking about him witnessing his uncle’s murder, he looks back to Harley and asks, “Do you maybe have some of those jumbo marshmellows?”

Harry rolls his eyes and groans, and, just like that, it’s like the heavy topic never came up. Not in a let’s just ignore that and let it fester uncomfortably below the surface sort of way, but in a that’s all that needs to be said for now so let’s just move on kind of way instead. It feels natural and comforting rather than cold and dismissive, and it makes that chasm within Harley’s chest feel a little less empty.

It’s after the sun has set, when there’s a fire that’s glowing across them and softening their features in the gentle, flickering light. Harley is sat in the middle because they always seem to want him there, the corner of his mouth sticky from melted marshmellow and the taste of chocolate on his tongue, feeling warm and full. Harry’s leaning into Harley, just a bit, but Peter is sitting a couple inches away, features a bit pinched with a thoughtful sort of expression.

Before Harley can voice his curiosity, Peter glances over at them, practically melts at the sight of Harry settling his head to rest on Harley’s shoulder, and slowly says, “Har...?”

“Mm?” Harry responds, eyes fluttering shut.

“I think—I mean, I wanna—do you think—?”

Harry huffs, one eyes squinting over to look at Peter. “Just do it, Parker. Don’t be a pussy.”

Harley barely has time to murmur a confused little, “Um,” before Peter’s brushing gentle fingertips beneath his chin and turning his head and Harley sees beautiful brown eyes getting closer and closer and—a few freckles, dotting along the bridge of Peter’s nose.

And then they’re kissing.

It’s a basic kind of kiss—lips pressed to lips in what often is only a meaningless point of skin on skin, but Harley’s heart races in his chest as soon as he realizes what’s happening, a tingle running down his spine and—warmth, so much warmth that envelopes him in somethiny soft and cozy and his, it’s his in a way that nothing ever has been, and he pushes in, presses into Peter with a hitch in his breath and kisses back like his life fucking counts on it, ‘cause it does.

Christ Almighty, it does.

(Harry kisses him next, while Harley is still dazed and blinking away the stars in his eyes, but Harry is half asleep and doesn’t do much more than hum against his lips before slumping back down, head on Harley’s shoulder, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks, and it’s so much different yet entirely just the same.)

-

He didn’t invite them to stay the night.

He also didn’t tell them to leave.

When Harley blinks awake, rising with the sun like he was raised to do, there’s hair ticking his nose and a weight pressed up against his side. It takes a moment for him to clear his eyes of grogginess and make them really focus, but when he does, he finds Harry’s head resting on his chest, curled up against him, snoring softly.

Peter is separate from them, curled up on himself on the far corner of Harley’s bed, wide awake and shivering lightly. Harley feels choked up with the moment and everything that it is, everything that it can be, but the worry clouds over that when he hears Peter’s teeth chatter.

“Cold, Darlin’?”

Instantly, Peter’s head snaps up, wide eyed and sheepish. “Um—I, uh—I’m good, I’m—”

Harley lifts the arm that Harry doesn’t have pinned beneath him, shifts the blanket that they must have fallen asleep on top of and somehow manages to maneuver it from underneath them to over them without moving too much, then keeps a corner held up as he looks to Peter. “C’mon,” he coaxes. “I’ve heard I’m like a heater. C’mere, s’alright.”

Peter hesitates, but then he’s moving, crawling under the blankets and curling into Harley with a shaky sort of sigh. “Thanks,” he murmurs.

“Dunno how you’re so cold,” Harley mutters back, because you’re welcome feels a bit too obvious. “Summertime in Rose Hill can be brutal. Surprised we’re not all dyin’ of heat.”

“M’not actually cold,” Peter tells him. “Just had a nightmare. Almost drowned, once, and I always feel cold after I dream about it.”

Christ, Harley thinks—remembers so suddenly that he doesn’t really know these guys, feels it shock him like a taser. He doesn’t particularly understand why Peter is telling him this, or why he told Harley about his parents and his uncle last night—remembers the shock on even Harry’s face when he had—but it doesn’y feel scary or overwhelming. Just a bit hard to process, feally. Peter doesn’t really act the way Harley suspects someone would after that.

But Harry also doesn’t act like he’s all that traumatized, either, yet Harley can feel the exact moment he goes tense in the shoulders and his breathing takes a hitch. Peter lets out a hum, all too knowing and sad, and reaches out a hand to comb through Harry’s hair. “There he goes,” Peter practically whispers. “Almost had a full night’s rest, too. That would’ve been a god damn miracle, but he needs it, eventually.”

“What happened to you two?” Harley founds himself asking—not maliciously, not demanding, but curious and... upset, maybe, but not at them, of course, rather at the fact that he’s only know these two for a handful of weeks—a month, almost, which is just an odd thought to linger on—and if anyone deserves to never face a bad day in their life, it’s them.

Peter puffs out a sigh as Harry really starts to struggle, brows furrowed, features pinched. “I think we’ll tell you,” he says softly. “One day.”

Harry lets out a pitiful sort of cry in his sleep, and then that’s all that matters, Peter coaxing his partner awake while Harley tries to offer a soothing presence and coo calming words.

Even now, it doesn’t feel like Harley’s an intruder. It feels like he was always supposed to be right here with them, good mornings or bad.

-

Mama comes home from work with grizzy hair that’s sticking up at random spots and finds three eighteen year old boys curled up together on the sofa with a morning children’s cartoon playing on the screen. Despite the shock and the exhaustion etched deep into her features, she only blink once in surprise before smiling wide at them. “These’re the city boys, I’m guessin’?” she asks, plopping her purse down on the coffee table as she looks them over.

“Yes, ma’am,” Peter says before Harley can do much more than nod. “I’m Peter Parker. This is Harry Os—um. Harry Lyman. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Keener. You have a lovely home.”

“Honey, you can just call me Maggie,” his Mama assures. She flickers her eyes over to Harry, who is so obviously trying to offer a smile and focus on the conversation but is still so rumpled from his rude awakening, borrowed sweatpants and Peter’s shirt askew, eyes a bit glazed over and features a little sad. Still, his Mama gives Harry a smile. “Both of you.”

Harry looks a bit unsure and grateful by that, while Peter offers a quiet, “Okay, Miss Maggie.”

Mama chuckles, looks to Harley with a soft amusement in her eyes. “Honeybun, I think you must’ve found the only polite city boys around,” she says. “You boys have any breakfast yet?”

Harley feels scolded even before he gives an answer, looks down at his lap sheepishly before telling her, “No, Mama, we haven’t eaten yet.”

“Harley James Keener,” Maggie says—not just Mama, not with that tone of voice, sharp and sure but also exasperated and loving. “I know I raised you knowin’ how we treat our guests. C’mon, up you get, we’re cookin’ up some food before anyone starves into an early grave.”

It looks like Peter is about to protest, but he looks at Harry and bites his tongue, instead offering a grateful smile when Harley squeezes his hand lightly before getting up with a simple little, “Yes, ma’am,” and heading to the kitchen.

He’s flipping over the first of the pancakes when his Mama lets out a soft sort of sigh, glancing up from where she’s mixing together the egg wash for the french toast. Harley knows better than to voicea question just yet, waits patient and proper until she’s ready to speak up, though the last thing he expects her to say is a resigned, “You’re gonna be leavin’, huh?”

The spaltula damn near slips from his fingers in his haste to look at he. “Wh—Mama, what?”

“You were never a Rose Hill kinda boy,” she says, smile soft and sad as she looks back down at the bowl she’s mixing. “I knew it when you were just a kid, Harls. Born and raised don’t mean that it’s home, honeybun, and a small town was never gonna be your place. Too much smart in that brain of yours to stay here.”

“Mama...” Harley trails off, only looks away in order to avoid burning the pancake. “I’d never leave you and Belle here. You gotta know that.”

Maggie clicks her tongue and shakes her head, action sharp as her tone. “Harley Keener, there ain’t no way in hell that I’d let you waste your potential just to stay here with us. Rose Hill’s where I wanna be, where I fit—but it isn’t that for you and you shouldn’t make it be. Hard to tell with Tinker Bell, she could go either way, but you? Honey, the world ain’t ready for you, and you’ve been hidin’ yourself here and not usin’ up all that potential you’ve got for too long. You’re gonna leave, honeybun. Stayin’ here was never supposed to be your future.”

Harley wants to fight tooth and nail against this, but the more she speaks, the more her words start to settle over him like a blanket. He’s always wanted to leave, and he’s always felt awfully selfish for wanting it, but the way she says it... there’s not argument. He doesn’t belong here. Up until recently, he just assumed he wouldn’t belong anywhere at all.

“Besides,” Maggie adds, glancing at her son with a curl to her lips. “You’ve got two city boys sittin’ in the other room waitin’ for you.”

“I—I don’t know ‘em all that well,” Harley says.

Maggie shakes her head. “I didn’t know your Daddy all that well when I fell in love with ‘im. Of course, your Daddy changed—wasn’t the man I loved by the time he left us, but that’s not the point. Love ain’t knowin’ someone all the way, honeybun. It’s learnin’ as you go and lovin’ all those bits and pieces that you learn.”

Harley’s face is burning. “I don’t love ‘em, Ma.”

“Not yet,” Maggie says. “But you will.”

-

Two and a half weeks later, as June turns to July, Harley finds himself packing his things.

“I’ve got an apartment,” Harry says, looking far too put together to be the same guy who was damn near silent in the aftershocks of his nightmare (and the three other nightmare’s Harley has seen since). “If you think you wanna move to the city, you can just stay with me until you either find your footing or decide to come back here. Pete basically lives there, too, with how much he’s stayed over since I got emancipated and moved into their at sixteen.”

Harley looks up from the shirt he’s folding, a single brow arching. “Sixteen?” he questions. “Same year y’all started datin’, you mean?”

The ends up Harry’s lips pull up, amused beyond belief. Peter’s snorin’ on Harley’s bed, tired (couldn’t sleep super well the night befors, Harley was told) and completely unaware of the way that Harry’s eyes glimmer. “Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “Probably got away with shit we shouldn’t have in there, but May was working and doing school to get promoted at the hospital, so there weren’t any adults giving us the you’re too young talk, you know?”

“Your dad...” Harley doesn’t keep talking, mostly because he’s only gotten a slight scratch against the surface with that topic, so he doesn’t want to push. Still, Harry nods.

“He wouldn’t have done much talking,” is all that Harry offers. “That’s why I was emancipated. I’ll tell you about it, probably, when Pete is up to sharing that shit.”

Harley glances at Peter, sleeping soundly still. “Peter had problems with your dad, too?”

Harry winces. “To put it lightly, yeah.”

“Any chance I can find this guy and beat his ass?” Harley questions—mostly for the way that Harry chuckles fondly, but it’s a semi-legitimate question, as well. He doesn’t take well to assholes who treat kids like shit, even more so when it’s his—when—when it’s Harry and Pete.

“He’s not in our lives anymore,” Harry says, stalks forward and brushes a kiss to the corner of Harley’s mouth. “No worries, cowboy. ‘Sides, Pete got a good few hits in, towards the end.”

Christ. “A sight to see, I’m guessin’?”

“Don’t know. I wasn’t there for it.”

Harley shakes his head. “So many stories.”

“So much time to tell them,” Harry counters, a wide grin growing across his face.

From the bed, Peter groans. “Stop bein’ sappy,” he grumbles, words slightly slurred from sleep as he turns his face into the only one of Harley’s pillows that hasn’t been packed yet. “M’sleepin’. Can’t sleep if you’re bein’ all—all fuckin’ gay.”

A light laugh rumbles out from the center of Harley’s chest, while Harry just rolls his eyes and walks over to the bed, plopping down next to Peter with a drawn out sigh. “Dramatic asshole,” Harry grouches, even as he pulls Peter into his side and curls an arm around him, features going soft when Peter doesn’t hesitate to lean against him with a happy hum. “We’re driving back to New York in, like, five hours, Pete. You can’t just wait and sleep in the car?”

Peter cracks an eye open, looking absolutwly scandalized. “And miss out on showing our favorite cowboy all our car games?”

“I already know car games,” Harley says.

“Not ours,” Peter says. “Not yet.”

Not yet. Like his Mama said.

Harley smiles. He likes the silent, unspoken yet powerful promise that comes with not yet.

He likes it a whole lot.