#SKINNY petey ?!

[seaquestions]

more canucks as furries, enjoy 👍 im having a lot of fun haha can u tell (ids in alt)

[dinosaurwithablog]

I had a little leftover dough so I made pizza cups. I, usually, just use dough and cheeses, but today I added a little bit of marinara sauce, and it was fantastic!! I love the crispy cheese on the edges. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. These are so much better than the ones that you get at Little Caesar's, and it only cost me about $2 to make 12 of them. I love cooking and I love eating so it works very well for me 😁😍😋 In the words of Julia Child.... bon appétit!! In the words of my best friend's Italian grandmother.... mangia, you're too skinny. Either way, I'm gonna enjoy eating these delightful little pizza cups!! 🍕

[sweetnnaivete]

hot take but all of the popular marauders fancasts lowkey are ass

[meneatyoghurt]

We don't talk about the captain and Skinny Petey enough.

Gonna start showing people The Land Before Wasps and telling them it's Our Flag Means Death.

[dauntingdeclan]

free trade summary as categorized by things that matter to me only:

sharks continue to serve more they have anytime in the past decade

i have an almost foolish amount of faith in the leafs roster

devils were dramatic but i think on the whole i'm excited, esp pesce

stumbled kicking and screaming into being a preds fan. if any moots have lore about them please educate me

monty was a huge w, but other than that who the fuck is currently on the kraken roster

stars were embarrassing

what the fuck is pat verbeek cooking

fuck vgk all my homies hate vgk

[webslingingslasher]

thinking about nerdy!peter getting reader a gift for national girlfriend day and feeling shy bc he doesn't know how to give it to her or if she'll like what he got her🥹🥵

it was a dumb gift and a dumb idea. it sounded better in his head, but knowing you were minutes away he was sent into a panic and told himself the flowers would be enough. and they were. you thought they were beautiful.

three days later and you're drumming pencils against his desk. peter let out a groan of your name, you had no regard for his desperate attempt to finish his tiny bit of homework.

'nope, don't care. you promised me ten minutes, twenty minutes ago.'

peter scoffed, your attempts won't work on him. 'the one time i encourage you to go on a deep dive of youtube shorts, you suddenly hate your phone.'

you drum out a solo, peter's clenching his jaw at the god awful wacks. 'i love my phone, i just love annoying you more.' he allows it for another minute, then it starts to hurt his ears.

'baby, please.' it's his 'i'm being nice, but i'm done playing' voice. you drop the pencils in a second, choosing to blow horse breaths and spin slowly in his chair.

you mumble out a song stuck in your head, your spins come to a stop. hidden, underneath the tiny shelf of his desk, a wrapped box. the hiding space is so uniuque you wouldn't have seen it unless you were in this circumstance, bored and looking for something to do.

your head tilts, you assume peter had forgotten about it too. your socks glide over his floor as you scooch in closer, it's a skinny box and only about five inches long.

'oh, c'mon. i was really enjoying your rendition of billie jean.'

you grab the box, it's light. it's not as dusty as you expected, it looked newly placed. you spin towards him, 'what's this?'

peter slowly looks up from his textbook, his eyes stare at the box in your hand. he's quiet for a bit too long, 'um, a gift.' you break into a smile, 'for who? for you?' you shove it out, 'open it!'

he looks at it like it's poison, but carefully grabs it and sets it next to him on the other side of his leg. your shoulders drop, 'open it, petey!' peter shakes his head, 'i will later, let me finish this first.'

you boo at him, 'c'mon, nerd. you can spare two minutes, i'm curious!' peter ignores you and it doesn't sit right, 'who's it from?' suddenly you're thinking it's from someone he doesn't want you to know about.

'no one.' you don't like how he's brushing you off, or lying.

'really? you got yourself a gift, wrapped it and hid it? from yourself?'

your boyfriend shuts his textbook and looks at you carefully. peter grabs the gift box and runs his thumbs across a seam.

'it's for you.'

your eyes soften. 'i got it for national girlfriend's day but it's dumb so i didn't give it to you.' your heart melts for him, 'why do you think it's dumb?'

he shrugs, you hate when peter's unconfident. 'i don't know. i just don't want you to not like it so, i guess i took away that option.' it hurts to know he thinks you wouldn't like a gift from him. it's not about what it was, it was the thought that mattered most.

'well,' you rest into the back of the chair. 'if you don't want to give it to me that's fine, just make sure you get your money back.' it was too understanding for peter's comfort.

'i want to give it to you, i just don't want you to hate it.'

you frown at him, 'why would i hate it?' he could explain it to you, or you could just see for yourself. peter hands over the box, you take it with caution to make sure he could stop the transaction at any moment.

'open it.'

you're weary, you don't want to force him. 'are you sure?'

peter seems more confident, 'it's for you.' you slowly start to unwrap it, before you can get far you stop and look back up. 'if i don't like it do you want me to be honest?'

'i don't think you'd be able to hide it.'

you tear open the paper, a gift box stops you. when you peer up, peter looks away, you pull the top off and gaze at the gift. your chest swells, you can't do anything but gasp.

'peter, oh my god.' you can't speak, it's beautiful, you have no idea how he could think you'd hate it. you've always wanted something like it, you think you've mentioned it to him before too.

your lower lip wobbles, 'i love it, thank you.' peter stills, 'really?' you nod, you can feel tears blot at your eyes, they're nothing but admiration for the boy in front of you.

'i told you i wanted one.' you cry because you feel seen.

peter smiles in relief, 'you did.' you take a sharp inhale, 'and you listened.' he laughs, he doesn't know why he was so scared, 'i did.'

you peer at the box again, a silver necklace with a pendant. It had a 'P' engraved. you hide your face, you feel like sobbing. you've never had anything so nice.

you hear peter move around, then he's hugging you. you jump up and wrap your hands around his neck, keeping a tight hold on the necklace. 'i love it. i love you.'

peter's warm and soft, 'i love you, too.' you push him away to wipe your nose, before handing him the box of understandment.

'put it on me?' 

[fanficfanattic]

Will you share your Jamie Tartt playlist? 👀

Buckle up boys! Hold on to your butts! Other ways to say brace yourselves!

To Build a Home (feat. Patrick Watson) by The Cinematic Orchestra

I'll Be Good by Jaymes Young

Sorrow by Bad Religion

The Greatest by Sia

Love I'm Given by Ellie Goulding

Runaway by AURORA

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths

Move by Oliver Tree

High Hopes by Panic! At the Disco

Outrunning Karma by Alec Benjamin

Home by Cavetown

The Perfect Space by The Avett Brothers

A Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley

False Confidence by Noah Kahan

Legend by The Score

The Competition by Kimya Dawson

In the Blood by John Mayer

Winner by Walgrove

Icarus by Bastille

Sympathy by The Goo Goo Dolls

Take Yours, I’ll Take Mine by Matthew Mole

People Help the People by Birdy

Daylight by David Kushner

Cough it Out by The Front Bottoms

Sober by P!nk

The Cave by Mumford & Sons

Tear It Up by Queen

Waves by Dean Lewis

Soldier by Ingrid Michaelson

We Don't Believe What's On TV by Twenty One Pilots

Blood In the Cut by K.Flay

Chameleon/Comedian by Kathleen Edwards

Water (feat. Rostam) by Ra Ra Riot

All is Soft Inside by AURORA

Pieces (feat. Noah Kahan) by Matoma

Dog Days Are Over by Florence + the Machine

Rise up With Fists!! by Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins

Gone, Gone, Gone by Phillip Phillips

HandClap by Fitz and The Tantrums

Hi Ren by Ren

I Don't Belong In This Club by Why Don't We & Macklemore

Skinny Love by Birdy

Raising Hell (feat. Big Freedia) by Kesha

Go Places by The New Pornographers

The Night Starts Here by Stars

Ghost by Ella Henderson

Here We Go by WILD

If I Be Wrong by Wolf Larsen

Part of Me by Noah Kahan

We're Going to Be Friends

The White Stripes

Bitch by Meredith Brooks

Samson by Regina Spektor

Let's go to Hell by Tai Verdes

Raise Hell by Brandi Carlile

Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy

Don't Tell the Boys by Petey

Sober Up (feat. Rivers Cuomo) by AJR

O.N.E. By Yeasayer

Locked Up by Ingrid Michaelson

Like a Stone by Audioslave

Leave the Light On by Overcoats

Tough (feat. Noah Kahan) by Quinn XCII

touch tank by quinnie

Warrior by AURORA

Too Sweet by Hozier

I'Il Think of You by Kurt Hugo Schneider

Into the Ocean by Blue October

Star Fire by Sleeping Wolf

Happier (Stripped) by Marshmello & Bastille

Knievel by Tommy Lefroy

Walk Me Home by P!nk

Brat (Humor Me) by Deore

Am I Wrong by Love Spit Love

Someday by One Republic

7 Years by Lukas Graham

Stick Season by Noah Kahan

Like a Prayer by Madonna

Little Bit by Lykke Li

Bruises by Lewis Capaldi

Don't Carry It All by The Decemberists

Freaking Out by The Wrecks

Will Do by TV on the Radio

The Dirt by Tor Miller

Hope of Morning by Icon for Hire

Smile by Mikky Ekko

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by The Postal Service

Blood Brothers by Ingrid Michaelson

All My Friends by The Revivalists

Fuck Authority by Pennywise

Crazier Things by Chelsea Cutler & Noah Kahan

Kiss With a Fist by Florence + the Machine

Unstoppable by Sia

Can't Go to Hell by Sin Shake Sin

World's Smallest Violin by AJR

All I Know So Far by P!nk

Knocking at the Door by Arkells

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons

The Seed by AURORA

Wine, Women and Song by Harvey Danger

The Cult of Dionysus by The Orion Experience

All You Wanted by Michelle Branch

Young Blood by The Naked and Famous

Truth No. 2 by The Chicks

Homesick by Noah Kahan

Family Line by Conan Gray

The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives

Heroes Never Die by NateWantsToBattle

My Number Tegan and Sara

Masterpiece by Big Thief

Til It Happens To You by Lady Gaga

I Don't Wanna Live Forever (Cups Version) by Kurt Hugo Schneider

Sit Down by James

Robots by Dan Mangan

Windowsill by Arcade Fire

Be OK by Ingrid Michaelson

Bite the Hand by boygenius

The Top (Bonus Track) by Primo the Alien

MEAN! (Remix) [feat. Noah Kahan] by Madeline The Person

Home We'll Go (Take My Hand) by Steve Aoki & Walk Off the Earth

From The Bottom Of My Heart by The Wallflowers

FourFiveSeconds by Rihanna and Kanye West and Paul McCartney

I Am the Resurrection by The Stone Roses

Chrome Plated Heart by Melissa Etheridge

Precious Love by James Morrison

Bones (feat. One Republic) by Galantis

Let's Go (feat. Icona Pop) by Tiesto

Unbelievers by Vampire Weekend

So What by P!nk

I Don't Feel Like Dancin' by Scissor Sisters

Creature Fear by Bon Iver

Brother by The Rural Alberta Advantage

Save Me by Noah Kahan

High and Dry by Radiohead

Power by Little Mix

Dirty Paws by Of Monsters and Men

The Boy Does Nothing by Alesha Dixon

Set You Free (Edit) by N-Trance

Stronger by Britney Spears

First Things First by Neon Trees

Kings & Queens by Ava Max

Welcome Home, Son by Radical Face

Capsize by FRENSHIP & Emily Warren

We Were Kings by Ryan Star

Come Undone by Duran Duran

Young Folks by Peter Bjorn and John

Pride by Noah Kahan & mxmtoon

Everywhere by Michelle Branch

Blow Me (One Last Kiss) by P!nk

Dust Bowl Dance by Mumford & Sons

Bad Blood by Bastille

Blue Monday by New Order

Make Believe by The FAIM

Midnight Show by The Killers

Can't Fight the Moonlight by LeAnn Rimes

Ophelia by The Lumineers

Shaky Ground by Freedom Fry

Grounds for Divorce by Elbow

Heaven and Hell by Let's Play Dead

Survivor by The Score

Ready Now by dodie

Young Blood by Noah Kahan

Ain’t No Reason by Brett Dennen

King by Years & Years

Bulletproof by La Roux

Beating Heart Cadavers by Acollective

How to Rest by The Crane Wives

Santa Monica by Everclear

Beds Are Burning by Midnight Oil

Get Some by Lykke Li

Sky Full of Song by Florence + the Machine

Beautiful Trauma by P!nk

Parachute (Serban Ghenea Mix) by Ingrid Michaelson

Down to the Bottom by Dorothy

YES MOM by Tessa Violet

Numb Little Bug by Em Beihold

Rise Up by Andra Day

Maps by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Hurt Somebody by Noah Kahan

[crossbackpoke-check]

find a blorbo (nhl tag game)

RULES: Go through the roster of each NHL team and find at least one player that you can root for.

tagged by @bondedpairs!! when i say too many teams to count and here for the narrative um. i may not have lied. this is not an extensive list of my blorbos but in order to make it not ten thousand years long i made up the rule that i had to do it straight from memory :)

anaheim ducks: as evidenced by recent events i DO like mason mctavish and trevor zegras but i have to honor laura and mention troy terry and beloved goalie gibbie*

boston bruins: oh for sure brad marchand… can i say patrice? one of the charlies got traded but i think mcavoy is still there because gryz is gone, brandon carlo is there still i think

buffalo sabres: cozens & thompson, owen power, rasmus dahlin, ukko pekka luukkonen

calgary flames: is chris tanev still here? is markstrom still here?? noah hanifin?? as a last resort i’ll say blasty

carolina hurricanes: aho & jarvy & teuvo teravainen & brent burns is still playing maybe? i know sepe got traded

chicago hockey: the bedsy narrative is compelling but ANDREAS ATHANASIOU MY BELOVED reunited with tyler bertuzzi… that’s the real story. also i like foligno

colorado avalanche: gabe landeskog, whatever ross colton & miles wood have going on, natemac + jo, mikko

columbus blue jackets: have long been on the merzlikins train, have been swayed to the darkside of umich boys (brindley, kent johnson, fantilli, blankenburg who is now on nsh)

dallas stars: seggy! mush! roope + miro and otter and robo and wyjo (rip ty dellandrea) and harls! etc.

detroit red wings: MOST players. dilly larks, moritz seider, jv, raymond, rasmussen, kitty, lyon, etc except for k*ne

edmonton oilers: mcdrai, ofc. nugent-hopkins, nursey, rip vinny & skinny

florida panthers: tkachuk, reinhardt, sasha barkov, verhaeghe (is there still?)

los angeles kings: adrian kempe… kevin fiala… danault… quinton byfield & alex turcotte

minnesota wild: kirill, marat, fleury, brodes, fabes, boldy, moose, middsy, spurge… god’s perfect idiots

montreal canadiens: going out on a limb here to say martin st. louis but also xhekaj (both), slafkovský, suzuki, my austrian reinbacher, yes fine cole caufield

nashville predators: MOST BEAUTIFUL D PAIR IN THE WORLD GRADY SKJEI AND ROMAN JOSI!! juuse, evangelista, isn’t stamkos there and also someone else who absolutely should not be

new jersey devils: nico… tuna (tatar), dawson mercer, siegenthaler, dougie hamilton, yes the hugheses whatever

new york islanders: barzy, zeeker & marty, anders lee, noah dobson lol

new york rangers: mika & chris, lafrenière & k’andre, shesterkin

philadelphia flyers: frosty & beezer and tk and sanny and the new baby michkov and coots and scooty loots and foerster etc etc. you know the Guys

pittsburgh penguins: the two headed monster but also compelled by rutger mcgroarty, and kevin hayes was there!!!

ottawa senators: timmy stü & brady! josh norris! the evolution of shane pinto! ullmark now and brännström and claude giroux and chabot

san jose sharks: ekky, thrun, mario, borde, logan couture, shakir, that other vaguely blond rookie

seattle kraken: brandon tanev, andre burakovsky! grubauer & d’accord also

st. louis blues: jordan kyrou, nathan walker (is still there?), rob thomas? is parayako still there?

tampa bay lightning: hedman, point, they dumped so many guys after the cup run… is kucherov still there or is he in nashville?? anthony cirelli (notable for being made out with by pat maroon)

toronto maple leafs: mitch, jt, willy, alex nylander, kniesy, dewar, et

utah hockey: crouse, keller, tuba

vancouver canucks: quinn, brock, petey, jt, garly, höggy, i want to say dakota johnson, elias lindholm?

vegas golden knights: brandon montour is here now… alex pietrangelo, so sorry to one i can’t remember who loves the lions it will come back to me

washington capitals: full of love and stupidity. oshie, nicke/ovi, pierre-luc dubois, dowd, vrána, milano

winnipeg jets: adam lowry!! josh morissey and kc and morgan barron, also vladdy my beloved

tagging @stillfertile + @colap1nto + @songsandswords + @moregraceful if they haven’t done it yet, i know they follow at least a couple teams. if anybody else wants to play i love adopting blorbos!!

[dejaroze]

Pookie.....I drew petey from dog man as a human......but why did I make him built like he's supposed to be skinny and scrawny but i made him built like he's been going to the gym

SHOW ME RIGHT NOW.

[c-o-z-m-o]

I need people to stop drawing petey skinny. I need people to stop twinkifying him and draw her as a girl

[ohblackdiamond]

"c'mon, get your feet wet" (ace/peter) (nc-17)

“Gene’s been buying Paul cute little outfits. I saw ’em.”

Peter snorted.

“He would go for that shit.”

“Blouses. And a couple dresses, too. Like he was a real girl, what the hell.” Ace shook his head. “I bet he even got Paul some lingerie. What would you go for?”

Sequel to "shock them, show them." After his tryst with Paul, a still-sexswapped Ace heads to Peter's house for room and board, and a little company.

This features the most uncoordinated member of KISS attempting sex in the shower. I'm sorry.

“c’mon, get your feet wet”

by Ruriruri

Ace left Paul’s place quicker than he’d initially intended. Partially because of Gene’s oncoming arrival, but also because he’d gotten what he’d come for. He’d figured some things out. He’d figured out sleeping with another girl wouldn’t end the curse. 

It hadn’t been the main reason he’d fooled around with Paul, but it had been a reason. A theory to test out. Too bad. Less than a day in, and Ace’s chest was already starting to get on his nerves. His breasts weren’t big at all– when he’d looked down at himself, there was almost nothing to them, and when he’d cupped one, it didn’t even quite fill up his hand– but they felt huge just because they were there when they shouldn’t be. They had felt huge since that morning, and that feeling had only faded when he’d come up to Paul’s a bit later on. That poor bastard’s tits were actually huge. They had even bounced some during their tryst. Ace wondered if they were making his back hurt.

Wondering about Paul’s tits. Not the most constructive use of his time right now. Ace sighed, mechanically going through his limited options as he changed lanes. His material possessions currently consisted of his wallet, his keys, his car, his wedding ring (too loose for his finger now, so it was now on his left thumb), and his clothes (half of which were borrowed from Paul). He had the cash to hunker down in a hotel for awhile. He could turn around and stay at Paul’s free of charge, and grimly expect to end up watching Gene moon over Paul for however long this lasted. Or he could go to Peter’s. 

Peter was having his usual wife trouble. Or rather, Lydia was having her usual Peter trouble. Ace couldn’t really blame Lydia. Mellow as Ace was, he probably would’ve outright left Peter a long time ago if he’d been a chick.

Well. He was one right now. He wondered if he’d risk her being there to greet him at the door– Lydia, of course, had met his whole family more than once, so he couldn’t pass himself off as his older sister or anything– then decided he’d go ahead. He was sober enough that he could think up a good excuse for her. He was sober enough to think up anything.

–

It might, Ace decided later, have been a good idea to call Peter up before showing up at his doorstep. Peter’s expression at seeing Ace there was even worse than when he’d finally recognized Paul.

“Jesus Christ. Ace?!”

Peter looked utterly horrified. Ace was a little horrified, too, for a different reason. Jeanette and Paul had always been shorter than him, so he hadn’t had a really good reference for how much height he’d lost until standing in front of Peter. Peter, who he was now at eye-level with. 

Damn. Tall for a chick didn’t even register as average for a guy. Not a new revelation, but thoroughly depressing.

“Whatever Paul’s got, I caught,” he said in response, catching how Peter’s gaze was flickering from his face down the length of his body, non-existent tits and even more narrowed shoulders and skinny legs and all. “Gimme a beer.”

“How? I mean, did you sleep with that chick, too?”

“Nah. I just caught it. C’mon, Petey,” and he ended up brushing past him, heading from the foyer into the kitchen, and getting a can of beer out of the fridge for himself, then one for Peter. “Help me out over here.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He sat down in Peter’s living room and took a long swallow of the beer. It had been too long, an hour or more, since he’d had the two at Paul’s. He wanted something heavier, really, but it had occurred to him that in this body, his tolerance was probably shot in comparison. “I stopped at Paul’s earlier. Figured he needed to know first.”

Peter nodded slowly. Ace handed him the other can of beer, which he took and popped open without his gaze ever leaving Ace’s face as he sat down beside him. Ace tried to smile.

“C’mon, man, you knew I wasn’t gonna have any boobs–”

“You look fine.”

“You think? Paul’s mirror could’ve been a little more flattering–”

“Screw Paul,” Peter mumbled idly. 

“I already did.”

Peter gave him a long look, and then he laughed, shaking his head. 

“I mean, he did this to you.”

“He didn’t mean to. I told you, I just caught it. I know I never got with that chick.” Ace tended to get with less women than Paul in general, for one, and his preference on the road was tall, skinny brunettes. Not that he wouldn’t deviate occasionally, but… he just couldn’t see it. If the girl had gotten with him, too, they probably would’ve been cursed at the same time. That was the logic he was operating under, at least. But maybe he was wrong, maybe curses didn’t operate under any logic. 

“How would you catch it when you were only in the same room with him for a couple hours?”

“I dunno. Maybe he’s just suffused with magic or some shit. Like, like a lightning rod. Or a battery, like you just gotta tap in.” Ace shrugged. “The wires probably just got crossed. It doesn’t really matter as long as we both get back in the end.”

Peter inclined his head briefly, but didn’t look too convinced.

“How do you feel?”

“Lighter? Shorter? I don’t fucking know.” He could already tell that the beer wasn’t going to loosen him up appropriately. In front of Paul, a man who was a ball of nerves even when he was normal, and had, in his opinion, only gotten worse since the curse, he could relax in compensation. Equal and opposite reactions. In front of Peter, it was harder to put on. He took another long swallow. “How long can you put me up, Curly? I got sixty bucks in my wallet.”

“No charge.”

“No time limit? Whatcha gonna do about Lydia?”

“Aw, shit.” Peter pursed his lips. “You got any cousins you can pretend to be?”

“Not any that look like me.”

“Lydia won’t know the difference.”

“I’m not that good at faking it. When’s she coming home? I’ll get a hotel before she gets here.”

“She’ll be back on Monday. Don’t worry about it right now. You hungry?”

Ace’s only sustenance had been the beer at Paul’s and the beer he was currently swilling down. He shook his head, only for his stomach to gurgle loudly.

“Do you have any Valium? Paul took a lot out of me.” He didn’t wait for an answer, already getting up  trudging towards the narrow kitchen cabinets above the stove, where Peter kept most of the drugs he actually had prescriptions for. Only Peter stood, too, holding up a hand to block him from tugging open the cabinet door.

“I ain’t giving you Valium right now.”

“Petey, c’mon.”

“No.”

“I’m not asking for coke, Jesus. I just wanna take the edge off.”

“Uh-uh.”

Ace stood there in silence for a moment or two, mouth tense, before giving up and heading back to the couch, to finish off the rest of the beer instead. All Peter was allowing out of him so far.  Funny how Peter had seen him bombed out of his mind and blackout drunk probably fifteen times just this year, but couldn’t bear to let him pair a single beer with benzos now. Did he come off as that fragile, or was what was left of Peter’s conscience rearing its head?

“You’d give it to me yesterday. Hell, you’d give it to a groupie if she batted her eyes real cute.”

“I don’t wanna see you falling over and passing out while you’re like this, that’s all.”

“I’ll be your Sleeping Beauty. Wake me up with true love’s kiss.”

“You better settle for a hamburger,” Peter retorted, and sauntered off to the fridge.

–

Ace watched Peter make the hamburgers on the stove, not without some interest. He had never learned to cook himself, and, up until they’d first all been stuck on the road together with no budget, had figured none of the rest of the guys could, either. As it turned out, Paul and Peter could make a rough go of it, if they really had to. Peter was even taking the extra step of chopping up some onions and tossing them in the pan with the hamburger patties.

He wondered if another beer would be pressing his luck. He was proven right when Peter handed him a Pepsi along with the hamburger.

“Y’know, if you keep me this close to sober I might get depressed,” Ace managed to crack as he popped the top. Peter, he’d noticed, had barely touched the beer he’d given him prior.

“Half the band has tits now. I think we all better stay sober.”

Responsibility from Peter felt like ice water right on top of his head. Ace opted to change tactics, shifting on his barstool perch by the kitchen island. Harder to get comfortable somehow. Peter was sitting beside him instead of in front of him.

“Gene’s been buying Paul cute little outfits. I saw ’em.”

Peter snorted. 

“He would go for that shit.”

“Blouses. And a couple dresses, too. Like he was a real girl, what the hell.” Ace shook his head. “I bet he even got Paul some lingerie. What would you go for?”

“You eating that, to start off with.”

“You’re taking this pretty damn well. Do you get off to it like Geno does?”

Peter didn’t answer. Ace didn’t know why he was doing that to Peter. Pricking at him in that halfassed way of his when all he’d done was be kind enough to let him stay there. It wasn’t entirely because of his enforced borderline-sobriety. Ace didn’t push, taking a bite of the hamburger, and then another. The meat was a little pink, but he didn’t complain, retrieving ketchup and mustard from the fridge and dousing it liberally on the burger. At least he had about the same appetite: too much of one, for his overall build. Still a mass of very skinny limbs paired up with a slightly pouchy gut.

“Jeanette really flipped,” he heard himself say out of nowhere. “I didn’t even know what happened, man, I was still asleep and she was screaming at me in bed. I woke up, y’know, I-I figured it out pretty quick. I tried to tell her. She… she was terrified. She had a flashlight she was gonna brain me with. I said, ‘c’mon, I’m Paul, I’m your husband’... nothing. I was picking stuff up off the dresser and explaining what it was and trying to tell her, to prove it… I’m lucky I even got clothes and the keys. I’m lucky she didn’t call the cops on me.”

He felt Peter’s hand rest on his shoulder, and stiffened up just momentarily. 

“Peter, I…” Ace swallowed. “I’m fucking terrified, okay? I told Paul it was all right, but that’s bullshit. This sucks. It fucking sucks. And not… I don’t care about how I look that much. I just can’t do what I wanna do. I can’t really drink, you won’t let me get high…”

“That’s for your own good, Ace.”

“And I can’t… Jeanette, we… right now, I couldn’t even have her the way I’d wanna. Even if she did believe me, ’s not fair to her. She wouldn’t want me as a chick. I know that much.”

He was twisting the wedding band on his thumb without even realizing it. He’d only been married a year now. He had tried and failed at avoiding groupies, but Jeanette, for her part, had let it go as long as it stayed on-tour. No weird chicks calling at their house. Jeanette had never cared much about his occasional fooling around with Bobby– that had, in all honesty, started before their dating– but girlfriends were another matter. He knew he wasn’t doing her right regardless, but at least he wasn’t like Zappa. He hadn’t had any women he’d see for more than the night of a concert. 

For at least a couple brief moments, before “Beth” really exploded, he’d thought they might settle down a little bit and ease up on the tours, even. Have a kid. It had been an eventuality before, but now that the option was completely off the table, he mourned it. It was a funny, peculiarly feminine thing to mourn. Maybe it was the hormones, or maybe it was the beer.

Either way, he hated giving in like this, hated confessing like this, even to Peter. Self-doubt he ought to be able to chase off with champagne. Couldn’t even do that anymore. All his vices down the drain, sacrificed to the altar of his current body.

Paul had made out so much better than he had. Still had his house and his car and all that, for now. Even had Gene willing to accompany him wherever he needed to go. Play boyfriend to someone who wouldn’t even give it up. He could tell from how tense Paul had been with him that he’d never come close to letting Gene. All Gene was getting out of the arrangement was a little play-pretty dress-up. Gene was such a sucker, in his way. Ace sighed.

“I wanna… I wanna feel like there’s still something I can do just the same, y’know?”

“There is. C’mon downstairs.”

Ace looked at Peter for a long moment, then nodded, getting up from the barstool. He picked the Pepsi up before following him down the stairs.  Either side of the walls held an odd mishmash of paraphernalia– normal stuff like his and Lydia’s wedding, their respective baby pictures, family photos, and then KISS photos and gold albums and a couple newspaper headlines and articles.

“Aren’t you worried I’m gonna pass this on to you?”

“Nah. I’d make too ugly a girl,” Peter said, then laughed.

“We’d need a new band name. Hugs or some shit like that.” Ace traced a finger across his own glass-encased face on one of the photos. “Bill and Sean’d kill us.”

“They would,” Peter said, sounding distracted. The basement was decorated with a tastefulness Ace wasn’t too sure Peter actually possessed. Wood paneling everywhere. Potted plants. Nice, plush furniture. Peter gestured towards the loveseat. “Sit down. Close your eyes.”

Ace closed his eyes, then exaggeratedly puckered out his lips. He felt Peter flick a finger against his cheek.

“Cute, Ace.”

“Be still my fucking heart.”

“Stay there.” Ace heard the creaking of a door, then Peter rummaging around for a bit before that door closed again. “Now hold out your hands.”

“Petey, if you’re handing me your dick, you don’t need me to close my eyes to jerk it off, trust me.”

“Maybe later. Just hold ’em out for me.”

Ace felt the familiar weight of wood against his lap a moment later. He didn’t have to wait for Peter to arrange his hands around the instrument to know what it was.

“Open your eyes.”

A guitar. A beat-up Silvertone acoustic, about the only guitar Peter even had. It was a leftover from early on that had ended up at his and Lydia’s old apartment, that Ace had kept meaning to pick up but never bothered to, and so it had moved with them to Connecticut, stuck in its case in the basement.

“Out of tune, yeah?”

“You’re the last one that played it.”

The tone was still there, at least. Ace tuned it within a minute or two, then messed with the beginning of a solo. Just fooling around. “Paperback Writer.” That had been one of the first songs he’d ever picked out, back when he was a teenager. It was easy. Most of the earlier Beatles stuff was. The intro to “Satisfaction” next– gratified when Peter started to tap out the rhythm on the arm of the couch. The notes were coming out okay. Not beautiful, but okay. Something was off, and he already knew what it was.

“My parents, they wanted me to learn piano.” 

He said it quietly, as though he didn’t expect Peter to answer. 

“How’d you get out of it?”

“I said it was faggy,” Ace admitted. “Everybody in my family plays something. We’re all musicians. My sister and Charlie took piano lessons, y’know, before Charlie got into playing guitar and started music school. But I… soon as I got an electric guitar, and a little Japanese amp, that was it. I was gone. Aw, Jesus, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, Peter.”

“Why not? I wanna hear it.”

“We had a piano in the house, right, and sometimes I’d still try to play by ear a little, but…” he trailed, suddenly helpless. “I couldn’t reach past an octave.”

“Sure, that’s because you never learned how.”

“You don’t get it. That’s how it is right now. My fingers don’t stretch as far anymore. I can play okay, but the feel’s all off.” He handed the guitar back, guilt mingling with the bile somewhere in his throat. Peter was trying. He was trying so damn hard to cheer him up. Why couldn’t he just fake it in front of him? Try and laugh it off, the way he had with Paul? Why couldn’t he fall into the old routines? He shook his head, half at himself. “L-let’s go to 54, okay? You and me. We’ll… we’ll relax, we’ll find that Carol chick, and…”

“Not right now, man.”

“Don’t tell me not right now.” God. His voice was getting more shrill by the second. He took a deep breath. “’M okay. ’M okay. No wife, no money, no band, no dick, no tits, but I’m okay. It’s funny. I don’t cheat on her half as bad as you cheat on Lyd but I-I–”

Peter reached for him. Ace got up, stumbling past him and hurrying up the stairs, heading towards the front door. Peter grabbed his arm before he could open it. 

“Ace, don’t be an idiot!”

“I’m just gonna drive.”

“No!”

Peter had both his arms now. Ace yanked, and yanked hard, but couldn’t pull away. He remembered, sickly, that time on Paul’s front porch. Paul had tried to pin him up against the door. It had been laughable, downright cute, seeing that pretty brunette glaring up at him furiously, standing on his foot like he couldn’t have overpowered her without even trying, if he’d really wanted to–

“Would you stop treating me like a fucking chick?!”

“I’m not!”

“You are. You and everybody else.” Thinking about how Paul had pulled the old Starchild treatment on him made his face burn now. “You think I’m gonna crash?”

“No.”

“Think I’m gonna get drunk and pass out in an alley somewhere?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“If I did that yesterday, you wouldn’t have cared. Do tits count for that much in your book?”

Peter looked like he was about to snap back there for a second or two. But he didn’t. That was surprising. Peter could pop off at anything. Always had some retort. Just like Paul, only there was never any calculation behind his words, just pure reaction. But Peter didn’t say anything, just finally let go of his arms. Ace stood there, and then he shook his head. 

“At least let me get drunk, Peter. Lemme do that much. I won’t leave. You can even have my keys. Okay?”

Peter looked at him for a long moment, and then, barely, shook his head.

“You got a real problem here, Ace.”

“No shit, Sherlock. One more beer.”

“Gimme your keys.”

Ace handed them over. The jangle of the keys had a finality about it. Like a prison. Peter’s expression, disturbed, uncomfortable, seemed to sink in Ace’s soul as he stuck them in his pocket.

“One beer,” Peter said, with obvious reluctance. 

–

Ace only drank half of it. It didn’t taste great when he’d had to twist Peter’s arm to get it. Peter looked like he felt so damn sorry for him that it was annoying, especially when Ace knew Peter was worse off than him with the harder stuff. 

Peter didn’t take another drink at all, just sidled next to him on the couch on the main floor. Ace flicked on the T.V. after awhile, and they watched Columbo fumble through L.A. in silence for twenty minutes or more.

“I’m sorry, Ace.”

“What for?” Ace kept his eyes fixed on the screen. Mr. Clean was demonstrating stain removal for an overwhelmed housewife.

“I don’t wanna hold you hostage. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“’M fine.”

Peter seemed to hesitate. 

“I thought… I thought if you wanna, we could see a movie or something.”

Ace usually took Peter to the movies. Or he had, before they’d gotten big. The two of them on a rare off day from concerts and rehearsals, heading into a near-empty theater in the early afternoon to watch a horror movie. That was their thing. One of their things, anyway. One of the few that only incidentally involved getting drunk when Ace would sneak in a couple liquor bottles inside his trenchcoat.

“I don’t feel that fine.”

“Star Wars is out. You said you wanted to go see that.” Peter stretched. “That guy from Bridge on the River Kwai is in it.”

“William Holden?”

“No, the British guy.”

Ace pursed his lips.

“I thought he was dead.”

“Hell if I know. It’s supposed to be a good movie.”

“Not today.” Ace stood abruptly. “I gotta piss. Lemme know if Columbo gets the guy while I’m gone.”

Peter nodded. Ace headed for the bathroom (after three and a half drinks between Paul and Peter, he really did have to go), albeit not the main one on the floor. Instead, he went to the master bathroom off from Peter and Lydia’s bedroom. After he’d washed and dried his hands, he pulled the mirrored medicine cabinet open, thumbing through more of Peter and Lydia’s prescriptions. Valium– funnily enough, they both had a prescription for that shit. Some old antibiotics. Peter had some amphetamines and various pain pills too. Nothing especially illicit, though Ace knew that Peter couldn’t ever keep a stash of coke or heroin for very long at all.

He unscrewed the cap of one of the bottles of Valium, tipping two pills into his hand. Should be enough that he wouldn’t give a shit about anything at all for several hours. He was about to take them when the cabinet door swung forward suddenly, just enough that he was forced to really face his own reflection for the first time since brushing his hair at Paul’s.

A girl’s face stared back at him, a girl’s face that didn’t look dissimilar enough to his own to really startle him much. Her complexion was uneven and noticeably quite scarred, her nose was too big, and she had narrow, dark brown eyes and a fat bottom lip. Nowhere near a knockout, but she could’ve still been sort of pretty with a little makeup. But she looked– nervous. Scared. He had never seen that expression on his own face before. It made his stomach curdle.

Was this how things were going to be from now on, if he didn’t get fixed? He’d never stooped to taking someone else’s pills before. He’d never had to. They were always available, whenever he wanted. He’d never needed to steal them, or sneak them, or beg for them. It had never even occurred to him. 

Would he be able to stay with Peter? Or would Peter just put him up in a hotel after awhile? He’d fiercely resented Peter trying to monitor him, but the thought of being left alone was suddenly even worse. He.. he could end up like one of the druggie groupies, just flitting around cheap motels and communes and whatever else. Worse. He might end up selling himself. If he was already begging Paul and Peter for booze and Valium after less than twenty-four hours of not having either at arm’s length… 

His throat felt tense and hot. He leaned against the counter, taking a shuddering breath, and dropped both pills into the sink, turning on the tap before he could change his mind. He barely even heard the knock on the door. 

“Ace? You okay in there?”

Peter. Quickly, he twisted the cap back on and stuffed the bottle back in the medicine cabinet, swinging the cabinet door shut. 

“Everything’s fine! E-everything’s fine.”

He heard the creak of the bathroom door before he saw Peter through the mirror’s reflection, noting absently how even a small, compact guy like Peter looked more intimidating compared to him now. Ace tried to rearrange his expression to something neutral as he turned around to face him.

“You’ve been in here awhile, is all.” Peter’s mouth was pursed. He looked like he was searching Ace’s face. Ace glanced away for a moment.. “I thought you might need something.”

“’M not on the rag.” Ace watched Peter’s face go florid, but somehow, the urge to laugh just wasn’t there. He blinked several times in succession, suddenly aware of how watery his eyes were. The tenseness in his throat hadn’t gone away. “Petey, could you c’mere?”

Peter took a couple steps forward, until he was standing beside him.

“Could you…”

Helpless. So damn helpless. Ace reached over, wrapping his arms around Peter, pressing his face hard against his shoulder. He wasn’t quite crying– the tears didn’t seem quite able to come, but he was on the verge enough that his breaths were hitching, uneven, and it only got worse when Peter’s arms wrapped around his waist in turn. 

“Lemme stay here,” Ace heard himself say, muffled by Peter’s shirt, “please, I can’t, I-I’ll fuck it up, you’re right, don’t leave me, don’t…”

“Who said anything about leaving you?”

Peter’s voice was softer than normal. His hand rubbed circles against Ace’s back. Peter had never done that before. Some sabotaging part of Ace mumbled that Peter was treating him like a girl, just like Paul had. But he knew better. Peter was just treating him like Ace.

“I told you not to worry about it, didn’t I? I won’t leave you by yourself. We’ll take care of everything, I swear. I don’t care how much fucking voodoo we gotta go through.”

“What if I don’t get better? And, and Paul, what’s gonna happen? Petey, I-I can’t, I can’t stay like this, I’m gonna, gonna get into trouble–”

More slow circles against his back. More tenderness than he’d ever thought Peter had in him. Sentimental, hotheaded Peter, who’d given all the guys a long-stemmed rose their first night at the Garden. Peter, who was more into coke and heroin and less into booze than he was, and despite that was trying to protect him. Ace inhaled deeply against Peter’s shirt, smelling sweat and leftover cologne, as Peter answered. 

“I got you. I got you, okay? No matter what.”

“The band–”

“The band don’t matter like you do.”

It was an effort to pull his face away from Peter’s shirt. He looked up at Peter, blinking hard a few times more, letting go of him with one arm while the other found his shoulder instead. Another deep breath. 

“You could really break a girl’s heart, y’know?”

He didn’t give Peter a chance to respond, reaching to cradle his chin in his hand, lift it up like he still needed to, before he kissed him. Not hard or rough, just needy, just wanting. Peter’s kiss back was surprised but fervent, even when Ace deepened it. Kissing him, touching him, came easy as always. Nothing they hadn’t done before a hundred times, and yet Ace had never felt this level of yearning. He didn’t understand it. Tried not to question it. Only a couple hours ago, he’d been messing around with Paul. But it hadn’t been like this, not remotely.

“I better wash up anyway, ’m pretty gross right now.”

“You really did sleep with him?” Peter shook his head, clearly amused.

“I really did. Put it on my tombstone.” Ace’s gaze drooped down to his own bare feet on the tile, and he took a breath. Any minute and Peter would head out the door. Another of their old routines disrupted. If he could only steel himself up one more time… “Hey, Peter…”

“Yeah?”

“You can come with me.” 

Peter looked at him carefully. 

“You’re not asking me to wash your back.”

“I think my front looks a little better right now. I swear I’m still not half as hairy as–”

“Ace…”

Peter wasn’t letting him get away with it. No more jokes. No more messing around. Ace licked suddenly-dry lips, his fingers toying with the hem of his old yellow t-shirt. Make me feel better. Make me feel good. Make me feel okay. 

Make me feel like you always did. Like you can’t help but do. Make me feel worth wanting. 

It was too tall an order to ask out of Peter, or anyone else. He didn’t voice it, clearing his throat.

“I wanna be with you. Do you wanna be with me?”

“Yeah. I do.”

Ace pulled open the shower door, turning on the faucet.

“There’s not much eye candy, I gotta warn you.”

“Lemme be the judge of that, Ace.”

Ace tugged off his shirt. Fuck. He should’ve suggested the bed instead of the shower. This was somehow much more exposing. He had felt a mixture of pity and mild inadequacy in front of Paul, even though Paul hadn’t exactly had any other options. In front of Peter, who, like Paul, preferred his girls tall, blonde, and busty, he bit his lip.

“See? Nothing. I make Twiggy look like Dolly Parton.”

Peter reached over, cupping one breast, lightly tweaking one nipple. Ace didn’t have too much sensation there, really, but just getting touched sent a little warmth through his skin.

“You’ve got enough to grab, that’s all you need.” Peter’s fingers slipped down, tracing the space between his breasts, down to the bit of stomach fat that had crept up gradually over the course of the last few tours, down to his jeans, which he unbuttoned and unzipped. Ace took a breath, smelling the leftover notes of Peter’s aftershave, opting to start on Peter’s clothes instead of peeling off his own, not really taking his time with it. Peter had on an Yves Saint Laurent button-down that paired amusingly with his faded blue jeans. Peter tossed the top behind him, and it landed on the sink. 

“I bet that’s dry clean only.”

“I don’t care,” Peter said.

“Don’t treat me different, okay? I can take it.”

“I know you can.”

Peter kissed him. His fingers returned to Ace’s jeans, helping him step out of them.

“Do you own any underwear at all, man?”

“Nope.” Completely naked now. Peter yanked down his own jeans and underwear at the same time, tossing them aside. His eyes were scouring Ace’s body like there was anything to look at. Rather than give him any more of an opportunity there, Ace stepped into the shower, where at least he’d be obscured by the steam. Peter followed, closing the door behind him.

It was an old routine for the three of them. Him and Peter and Paul. Group showering after a concert. They hadn’t done it as often the last tour or two, but it was still a common enough thing. Stupid shit. Smacking each other with washcloths. Handjobs. Blowjobs. It had never escalated to fullblown sex when it was the three of them in there. But when Paul couldn’t be bothered to show, and they were both high, it occasionally did.

Ace still couldn’t get over being eye-level with Peter. Peter wasted no time, mouth on his, hands roaming his chest, tracing his side all the way down to his hip. The water beat down insistently in a rhythm all its own, soaking his hair and back, hardly getting anywhere else for now. 

“You’re cute, Ace.”

“Petey, I’d be the last girl left in the Coop and you fucking know it.”

“We ain’t in the Coop.” Peter’s hand slipped between Ace’s thighs, and he murmured approvingly. “Shit, you really do need cleaning up.”

“Told you.” Ace took a step back from Peter, just enough to expose more of his body to the showerhead. Peter, meanwhile, reached for the washcloth and soap, and started to lather him up, surprising Ace by starting with his breasts and moving down from there. Despite the warmth of the water, Ace’s nipples were hard. Unsurprisingly, so was Peter.

“What was it like?”

“Sex with Paul? It was nice. He kept going at it like he still had a dick. Wore himself o–ahh.” Peter had chosen that moment to get rid of the last remaining evidence of that escapade. Ace’s thighs twitched as the soft cotton washcloth was replaced by Peter’s hand again, hips rocking slightly forward with each curious move of his fingers. Ace took another step back, then another, until his back was to the wall. “No, c’mon, c’mon, I just don’t wanna fall in here.”

“I won’t let you fall.” Peter’s other hand was steadying his shoulder. Quick laps against his neck, a couple stray kisses, all washed away, but Peter’s main focus, thankfully, was fingering him. He wasn’t nearly as cautious as Paul had been, starting out; he seemed to know almost on instinct how much Ace wanted to be filled. Plunging into him, crooking two, three fingers inside him– Ace was grunting against him, tugging him in by the shoulder, pressing their bodies in as close as he could, Peter’s hard-on against his leg a welcome promise.

“Fuck, Peter…” It hadn’t taken long to find that perfect rhythm. He was soaking, every touch felt like an electric shock, the headiness of the steam making him almost dizzy, legs wobbling, leaving him grasping Peter desperately as he groaned out his release. Peter was smiling. 

“I never get tired of seeing you come, man.”

Ace was panting too much to respond at first. It hadn’t been as intense with Paul. Maybe it was just the heat of the shower, and being upright. Maybe. All the warmth was still right there, pooling in his stomach.

“Come on. I’ll let you. Right now.” Ace could tell his words were soft, maybe a little tinny. He didn’t care, looking around for something to brace against. The shower was pretty big, but all he could bear down on besides the wall was the little bar for washcloths, right below the niche for soap and shampoos, and the bar on the door. Peter could probably manage to hold him up for awhile, if he had to, but that wasn’t all that was concerning him. Nerves, that was all, nerves and– wanting something to stay a little closer to the same, even when nothing else had. He turned around, facing the wall, spreading his legs a bit more, knees slightly bent. 

“You’re filthy,” Peter said, want and amusement in every syllable. Ace grabbed the washcloth bar with one hand, his other hand against the blue mosaic shower tile. He could feel Peter’s hand on his hip (and a cursory grope of his ass) as he angled into position. He turned as Peter nuzzled against his neck, meeting him for a wet kiss before Peter started to enter him.

Oh. Oh, fuck. Ace gripped the bar like a lifeline. Nothing like fingering. No comparison. Nothing like anal, either. Peter was taking it slow– Ace knew he was– but Ace’s breaths were coming in short bursts as he was filled, a weird, pinching kind of pain at first edging out the pleasure of it. Peter felt absolutely massive, closer to the nine inches he’d always claimed than Ace had ever believed. For a second he almost thought it was going to be too much for him. He pressed his forehead on the tile in a bid to keep his focus, keep from buckling. But the more he let himself relax, the more that pain ebbed. Peter’s first few thrusts were shallow, only building up when Ace began to groan in earnest.

“All right there?”

“All right. ’S all right.” His toes twitched. Peter had hit some spot inside him, one that made the pleasure suddenly burst firework-bright. He cursed loudly, fearful he’d slip, and now both Peter’s hands were on his hips, warm, wet, and firm.

“Steady, Ace. You got it.” Peter’s breath was hot against the back of his neck, all the encouragement Ace needed. Another couple thrusts left Ace reeling in a heady haze of need, the tiles blurring out in front of him as he came again, with no warning but a few more gasps.

“Peter, you haven’t–”

“It’s okay.”

“Keep going, keep going. I can take it. Hurry.”

Ace could feel Peter’s hesitation. Peter actually let go of his hips for a second or two, though he hadn’t pulled out.

“Ace, you don’t gotta worry about pleasing me.”

“I wanna please me, too. One more.” Ace could feel a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth, as he burst into his next request. “Cat, I wanna see you.”

“Turn around.”

“I will, once you get your dick out of me.” 

Peter complied. Ace was already wobbling as he turned, the sudden emptiness leaving him with a cold, funny feeling, but Peter immediately worked him back into position, pressing him against the wall, trying not to lose any more momentum. Facing Peter, that needy, wanting look on his face, the dark brown eyes heavy with something Ace hadn’t ever deigned to name before. Facing Peter was really facing himself, his body, everything. Whether he stayed like this or not. Whether Paul did. 

Peter urged one of Ace’s legs up, hoisting it around his waist. Ace had seen it before, out of Peter and Paul both, but he knew he was always too drunk to ever fuck a woman like this, holding her there while they were both standing up. But balanced on one leg himself, even with his other heel firmly against the shower wall– he was buckling already, and Peter hadn’t even entered him again yet. All his previous confidence about himself, about Peter, was starting to dissolve as he tried to reach for that bar again, eyes wide. 

“Jesus, I’m gonna fucking fall–”

“You’re not. Hold onto me. I’ve got you.”

“Thought I was Baby Elvis.”

“Dammit, Ace, would you stop that shit? I love you.”

Ace’s eyes went huge. His whole body froze, leg suddenly stiff and straight, the only sound the spray of the shower.

“Peter?”

“You heard me. Now hold on.”

“No, no, wait–” Ace’s wobbling started back in earnest, as bad as when he was in the heels onstage, the floor too slippery, his heart beating an off cadence. He was wet all over, juices dripping between his legs, twinges of soreness already making themselves known; he was far too aware of every unfamiliar inch of his own skin. All that was really familiar was Peter.

Peter. Gray-haired, explosive Peter. Peter who’d put him up. Peter who’d gotten high with him, slept with him, done orgies with him, supported him. Peter who he’d come to when he needed someone.

The band don’t matter like you do.

Peter was still looking him right in the eye, forthright as ever. Only the tightness of his lips betraying him now. Ace lunged forward, grasping Peter’s shoulders, tight, secure.

“Peter, listen, you…”

“You don’t have to say it back.”

“I do if I mean it.”

Even with Peter steadying him, he was already about to lose his balance again. Leaning against him this heavily, heights the same, it was easy enough to kiss him, easier than it had ever been before.

“I love you, Peter.”

Make me feel good. 

Make me feel like you always did.

Maybe like you always will.

Peter kissed him back. Over and over, a hot furor of lips crushing against lips crushing against skin. Ace felt himself get lost in it, melded there with him, before Peter began to thrust. It didn’t take long. The first thrust and Ace knew he was nearly gone, and apt to fall; with a shaky breath, he let Peter lift up his other leg, wrapping it around him. Pinned there just by Peter alone. Another thrust– Peter was cursing, crying out– Ace thought he felt something– then, as his vision blurred with his own orgasm, all he could feel, all he could touch, was that sensation, better than coke, better than alcohol, overwhelming his body with oneness, wholeness, secure and free.

– 

Ace barely remembered anything after that. Peter helping him out of the shower. Falling over, as he’d predicted, but at the sink instead of inside the shower. Then, then, he must’ve passed out from the heat of the shower and their fooling– 

No. Not fooling around at all. 

The room before him wasn’t Peter and Lydia’s bedroom, anyway. It was his parents’ old apartment. He was sitting in front of their piano, on the piano bench, next to a man that wasn’t quite a man. Someone with a lion’s head and a man’s body. Marbas. 

“You’re rather quick. You’ve completed the ritual, and yet, you didn’t know what it entailed.” Marbas smiled, exposing rows of long ivory teeth. “I had expected no less, given your occupation.”

(so we did it?)

His voice was coming out strangely, hazily. Like a fade out at the end of a song. It took real effort to speak at first.

(all i had to do was sleep with a guy, right?) 

“You had to give yourself up. Offer all you possessed.” Marbas reached over, touching Ace’s ear– Ace tried not to flinch. “Your body, of course, but a virgin sacrifice is only a portion of the requirement. You had to give him your heart as well. Willingly. To be trampled or treasured.”

(i had to love him. that’s what you mean, isn’t it?) 

“In a fashion. You’ll return to yourself in time.” 

Ace didn’t have to glance down to know he wasn’t back to normal yet. His wedding ring was still slightly loose on his thumb. But he nodded anyway.

(paul, is he gonna get back, too? if he does the same thing?)

“If that’s his desire.”

(you mean it’s not?)

“Stan has a poor grasp on the things he wants. He’d rather yearn for them from a distance than have them.” Marbas shrugged broad shoulders. “But you don’t fear your desires.”

(no)

“Even as they destroy you.”

Ace swallowed. It was suddenly hard to meet Marbas’ golden gaze.

(i do okay.)

“You’ll lose everything you have. All your comforts, all your pleasures, traded in for a bottle and some powder. You’ll crawl on your knees for a measure of recognition that’s already passed you by.”

(why are you telling me this?)

“Because it doesn’t matter. You’ve made your decision already.” Marbas grasped his left hand– Ace started to jerk it away, but the demon was too quick, tugging the thick silver wedding ring off his thumb, placing it back on his forefinger. It hung there loose for several seconds, and then the ring began to get hot, that heat spreading from the metal through his finger through his hand through the rest of his body, as painful as that electric shock, as his body shifted, warped, changed– 

He woke up hours later on Peter and Lydia’s bed, face soaked with sweat, body restored. Peter was there, already awake, and sitting up. Still naked, Ace noticed wryly. Just like him.

“You did it.”

Ace sat up. The ring on his finger glinted just slightly in the light. Jeanette. Marbas. Paul. He’d got it all back. He’d have to tell Paul how to end it. But for now, just for now, he took Peter’s face in his hands, pressed a kiss to his lips.

“We did it, Petey. Me and you.”

[roadtogracelandx45]

Little White Church| 1| Elvis

@ohnoitsthebat @prettyinpayne @thatbanditqueen @ginghampearlsnsweettea

word count: 1,544

Summary: Dick Roberts wasn’t surprised that his stepdaughter ended up back with the Presley family nor was he surprised that she was in the arms of Elvis who was slowly making a name for himself.  He is dead set on taking her back home to help her mother out with the kids and maybe get another child on her but Gladys steps in and makes an offer that he really can’t refuse. 

Elvis x Sylvie 

Could be tied into Burnin’ Love or not we will see. 

Rated M for adult content and mentions of sexual assault and abuse. 

Part one of two 

Dick Roberts Sr pulled to a stop in front of the apartment buildings where his stepdaughter Sylvie was staying with Elvis and his family. He had finally tracked her down, it had taken him almost a year to do. And he was finally going to take her home and have her be the stand-in wife and mother that he needed her to be. That's one of the reasons why he married Elaine in the first place because she had a daughter. 

 However, his son, who after he found out that she had left had been firm in staying silent about where she had gone and if he had heard from her or not. 

A small truck pulled in front of his police cruiser and parked, followed by a tall skinny boy getting out of the cab followed by his stepdaughter who grasped his hand and pulled her out of the cab and into him. 

The boy bent his head and pressed a kiss to her lips before shutting the truck door. Dick felt a surge of anger go through him and he went to throw open the cruiser door but stopped himself, once he had married Elaine, he had gotten possessive and wanted to keep his wife and now stepdaughter to himself but he also had to keep up appearances and send Sylvie to school.  

And now he knew he didn't want to cause a scene with students coming home from school, it could only end up badly for him. He had already been on thin ice in Atlanta because of the rumors on why Syvlie missed school for almost a year and he didn’t need this making its way back to them either.  After she had run away with Dickie’s help, they launched an investigation into why. The whole situation put him in the spotlight and they asked a lot of questions. 

The boy paused and looked at the cruiser and Sylvie followed his gaze, her fingers stopping short of his wrist, her panic was almost instant. “Baby? What is it?” He asked his free hand catching hers to finish guiding it down, “Is that?” 

She nodded her head unable to speak. 

 "Sylvie, baby go inside and get Daddy," Elvis ordered, putting his body between the two. 

"E, no." She said, her knuckles were turning white from how tightly she was holding onto his hand. 

"Sylvia, go inside and get Daddy and Petey." He ordered causing her to squeak and move away from him quickly but she wasn't as fast as Dick was and he caught her arm and pulled her to him.

 He hadn't expected though that she had learned to defend herself since the last time he had seen her. The heel of her palm came up and collided with his nose and he let her go cursing and grabbing his bloody nose.

The singer felt a surge of pride for his girl who quickly disappeared into the apartment building, the pride turned to anger as he turned to face her stepfather. 

"You need to leave, she isn't your concern anymore." 

"Of course, she is my concern, she is my daughter." 

"No, she isn't." There was so much control rage in Elvis's voice that Dick almost stepped back from him. 

"She is my concern." Elvis had told Sylvie when they first started dating or whatever it was that they were doing that if she ever said that she was ready to marry him, he would."You hurt her, you r*ped her."

"All lies. She wanted it."

"She was 16! She was just a girl! She is still just a girl." 

"Son," Vernon said, coming out of the apartment followed by Petey, Gladys, Grandma Dodger, and Sylvie, the latter going over to Elvis's side. He pulled her into him, "You should have stayed inside baby."

 "No, I don't want him to hurt you." She was trembling from head to toe, and for the first time since she had been back with them and he truly understood the fear that she had of Dick. 

"Everything is okay." He assured as  Vernon put himself between his son and girlfriend and Dick.

"You need to leave."

"Or what?' Dick taunted as more bystanders stopped and started to watch the scene, suddenly not caring that this could ruin everything. 

Elvis was already getting attention from his clothes and the song that was released on Sun Records recently. And Sylvie was getting attention for her good looks and she hated it. 

Both of them together were gathering rumors. 

Those rumors were the reason why Dixie and Elvis broke up, the former girlfriend picked up a fight with Sylvie and it scared her to death, she couldn't even fight back.

"You can't even provide for your family."  Sylvie tightened her grip on Elvis's shirt to keep him anchored next to her. She was terrified that Dick was going to kill Elvis, he had threatened to kill Dickie for helping her when she was in labor with David.

She had been alone and terrified. "I may not be able to but at least she is loved and cared for here. Where were you when she was having your child!"

Gladys studied the girl and Elvis,  she could see the terrified look on Sylvie's face and how she clung to him. She knew that the girl was the only one that she would ever trust with her son and she had known that since the first day that the two were around each other and he was only whole with her being there. And had been since he made sure she was included with him and the boys and she trailed behind them, with the teddy bear that she had since birth dragging in the dirt behind her.  

The same bear that was resting against her pillows on her and Elvis's shoved-together twin beds. Something that at first infuriated Gladys because she didn't want them having sex under her roof but she settled once she realized that it was mostly for Sylvie's comfort, since she had been closer to Elvis, the nightmares had happened a lot less and Sylvie had been sleeping through the night.  There were still moments where she missed Andie and David, moments that not even Elvis could bring her comfort. And with all those thoughts in her head, Gladys sprung into action. 

“Wait, wait!’ Gladys shouted as she pushed away from her nephews and to where Vernon was between Dick and their son and Sylvie, "What if, what if,’ She paused trying to catch her breath, "She stays here, and marries my son. And when Elvis starts making more money singing, we pay you.”  

Dick knew that as much as Sylvie was worth to him being a stand-in wife and mother, she was more trouble than that and she was better off here away from him and his family. “Fine, how much?” He demanded not taking his eyes off of the couple. The girl whispered something to Vernon who nodded his head and urged his son to take the girl into the safety of the apartment.

“On top of that, she wants you to leave Davey and Andie in her care. She doesn’t want Andie going through what she did and Davey is her son.” Vernon said in a tone that he picked up from Colonel Parker, a tone that left no room for fights.

 The Atlanta police chief rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, he knew that Elanie was pregnant again, and if any luck it would be another little girl, so she could replace Sylvie and Andie, “Fine. Let’s talk.’

"Elvis, take her inside now," Gladys demanded, her eyes going from the man standing in front of her to her son and now future daughter-in-law. 

"Mama." Sylvie protested. "Sylvia Grace." 

"Come on baby," Elvis whispered, pulling her away from the truck and towards the apartment building. Dick thought for a split second and pulled his gun firing a shot into Sylvie's lower back causing the girl to scream and collapse. 

There were shouts from the surrounding areas to call the police and the ambulance. Others in outraged that Sylvie was shot. Everyone had to come to the conclusion that Sylvie was a sweetheart and they all adored her. Some were questioning her taste in men but still loved her. Another gunshot was mixed in with their outrage and shouts as Vernon and one of the Presley cousins tackled the man to the ground.  The sudden flood of surprise at what he just done flooded him and he started laughing. 

He honestly hoped he killed the bitch. All problems would have been solved then. 

[butterflyintochains]

First Winter In Vancouver

After a long and eventful 2024 season, Gabriella decides to stay home in Vancouver over the end of the year. Longing for two months uninterrupted with her boyfriends, Elias Pettersson and Quinn Hughes. The newest World Number Eleven is happier than ever, content to be a girlfriend for a while, and relax with her little family. Even better, she's finally going to be attending her first ever Canucks Game soon!

tw: anxiety, some elements of sexism, some slight bigotry, and some usual people being idiots. Nothing too heavy, but just so you're aware.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The jet lag took a few days to iron itself out. Riyadh to Vancouver flights should be illegal in so many ways. But, Gabriella is happy to be home in Vancouver, the city she has fallen head over heels for so quickly. She has her cats, her dog, and her boyfriends, so what's not to love about this place? Gabriella wakes up at nine, alone in bed, not ideal, but she knows why. Arwen leaps up on the bed next to her, she says. ''Good morning, baby.'' Of the quartet, Arwen is her alarm clock. She gets up, and goes for a shower. After that, she brushes her teeth, does her hair, and gets some makeup on. Her clothes for today are black skinny jeans, a Lacoste polo, and one of her tennis cardigans. Arwen and Atticus follow her down to the living room, where there's a note from the boys on the coffee table.

For when you get up, Ella. The cats and Finn are fed, we're at morning skate, we love you. Elias and Quinn.

Gabriella nods, and smiles, touching her necklaces. Quinn's emerald and Elias' sapphire never leave her neck. She grabs some breakfast, and eats while watching some TV. Legolas leaps up onto her lap, Daenerys not far behind him. ''Hello, my little loves, I missed you too.'' Finn, the trio's adorable new Aussie Shepherd puppy, sits at her feet. The pets have been lovingly named 'The Whistler Zoo' on social media. ''Hello to you too, Finn.'' Gabriella looks up at the shelves for their awards, her trophies from Dubai, Rosmalen, and Tokyo sitting pride of place. Her runner up trophies from Toronto and Beijing right next to them. She did so well this year. There's also her tennis bags to sort out, but that can wait.

After breakfast, she laces up her boots, and puts her coat on after calling an Uber to take her to Thunderbird Centre. It's rare that she has nothing to do of a day, and she wants to spend it with her boys. They arrive, the driver says. ''There you are, miss. That'll be 12 dollars.''

She pays him, and smiles. ''Thank you, sir.'' She gets out of the car, and hoists her bag onto her shoulder before heading inside. She hopes practice is open today. The place is still a bit maze like to her, but she finds the rink. The boys are working hard on some drills, Gabriella sits down in sight of the benches, trying not to draw too much attention to herself. She's already in awe of the synergy between Elias and Quinn on ice, it's as if they can read each other's thoughts. There are still so many members of the team she doesn't know. She met JT, Thatcher, and Brock in Toronto. Brock, Dakota, Conor, and Nils came to Wimbledon. But, that's about it. Tocchet says, in full coach-mode. ''Good work, boys! Petey, beautiful handling, keep it going.'' He addresses the rest. ''Six laps and go shower!''

After training is over, Gabriella goes to meet the boys in the common area. Elias greets her first, zipping his team jacket up before hugging her. ''Hi, Angel.'' Elias says.

Gabriella leans up to kiss him. ''Hi, sweetheart.'' She asks him about their boyfriend. ''Where's Quinn?'' Elias kisses her cheek, and goes to grab some lunch. ''Media duties.'' They sit down at a table together, and talk while Elias eats. Finally, Quinn comes through, face lighting up. ''Good to see you, Angel.'' He leans over to kiss her. Gabriella never feels quite right just kissing one of them. ''Good to be here, honey.'' Quinn goes to grab some lunch, and sits with them both. Gabriella also hugs Brock and Conor. ''You guys looked amazing out there today.''

Brock flashes her a big smile. ''Thank you very much, Ella.'' Dakota asks her. ''You comin' to the game on sunday?''

Gabriella helps herself to some tuna and salad with a small portion of pasta. Daniel would kill her if she wasn't eating regularly. ''Yeah, I'm very excited!''

JT promises her. ''We'll make sure to win it for you, Ella. The Sharks won't stand a chance.'' Gabriella laughs, and eats her lunch. Truth be told, her excitement is mixed with more than a little bit of dread. The other ladies will be there too, it's them she's afraid of more than anything. Not that her boys will get to know that. Elias and Quinn introduce her to the guys she hasn't met yet. ''Fil, this is our girlfriend, Canadian number one tennis player: Gabriella Lemieux. Ella, this is my d-partner, Filip Hronek.''

She politely shakes his hand, she's heard good things from Quinn about Hronek. ''Good to meet you, Filip.'' Elias introduces her to his linemates, Danton Heinen and Daniel Sprong. ''Good to finally see who these two always talk about.'' Teddy Blueger jokes.

Gabriella laughs, sitting back down at the table. ''That's what my friend, Felix, said this summer when we were at Wimbledon. You can all call me 'Ella' if you want, by the way.'' She's blown away with how nice and respectful they all are to her. Treating her as a friend right away, and asking her about her tennis career.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night before gameday, the trio are fast asleep in bed, Gabriella curled up with her head on Elias' chest, and Quinn's arms around her waist from behind. Their pets all asleep in their beds as well. Gabriella's hand tightens around Elias' shirt, rousing him from sleep. The house is quiet, Quinn is in a deep sleep, but Gabriella is breathing quickly, He gently strokes her cheek, bringing her out of whatever nightmare she was having. ''Hey, Gabriella, it's okay, what was it?'' He whispers to her, hoping Quinn doesn't wake up. Gabriella blinks a few times, drying her eyes. ''Just a bad dream, Elias.''

Elias asks, wanting to know what's causing her such pain. ''What about?''

Gabriella says, sniffling. ''It's so stupid. But, we were all hanging out after the game, and the wives and girlfriends of the others would not stop calling me a 'whore' and a 'slut', saying I was a 'freak' for dating both of you.'' She stops to breathe, her mind racing a mile a minute. ''And, you two weren't there, so no one stopped them.''

Elias kisses her forehead, helping her calm down. Somehow, Quinn is still asleep, but, not even a bomb exploding could wake him up. ''We'll have a talk with the boys, angel, we won't let anyone hurt you, promise.''

Gabriella whispers. ''Thank you.'' In time, they get back to sleep, joining Quinn in slumber again.

They have a slower morning, relaxing together with their pets and a movie. After lunch, the boys go for a pre-game nap, and Gabriella walks Finn. She so wishes Leylah and Bianca were here, for familiar hands to hold during the game. The boys come down in their game suits. Looking unfairly handsome. Gabriella will be getting ready a bit later. ''Okay, babe, we'll see you later.'' Quinn says, hugging her tightly, and kissing her. ''Can't wait to see you, angel.'' Elias says, and kisses her. Gabriella says to them, holding their hands in hers. ''Play well, stay safe, don't get in trouble. I love you both, and I'll see you very soon.''

They say in unison. ''We love you too.'' They go out to the car together. Gabriella uses the two empty hours to check some work emails, some stuff from her sponsors, and an early form she needs to fill out about her early quarter schedule. All of that can be done later. So, after a quick dinner, she goes to wash her hair, and put some makeup on. She opts for black tights with a black collared pencil dress and her leather jacket with heeled boots. ''Here goes nothing, kids.'' She says to their pets.

She gets an Uber down to Rogers Arena, finding herself intimidated by the sheer size of the place. She takes the ticket and pass out of her purse, and gets into the concourse. She grabs some water and a chocolate bar - the one sweet thing she allows herself. Gabriella goes to find her seat, in the family and friend section. She texts Daniel, in need of her second-dad.

Gabriella: Danny, I'm at the game, and I'm scared.

He texts back, the boys must have filled him in on her dream last night.

Best Coach: Deep breaths, kiddo, you're going to be fine. If anyone says anything to you, you tell them every way they're wrong, okay?

Taking deep breaths, Gabriella nods to herself, and texts back.

Gabriella: Will do. Love you, Danny.

He replies quickly.

Best Coach: Love you too, kiddo.

The other wags file in with their kids and some Canuck parents. Gabriella gives some of the ladies a shy smile. It's so strange, she's so confident on a court, nothing can bend her, and even less breaks her. Here, she's unsure and shy. Surrounded by people she's certain hate her and all she represents. ''Ella! Hi, Ella!'' JT Miller's daughter, Scarlett, runs up to her, bringing her out of her head. ''Hi, Scarly, you've gotten big since I last saw you! And, I love your braid, did mama do it for you?''

Scarlett nods. ''Uh huh, it's your braid too!'' It is her braid, the braid she wears her hair in for tournaments. ''She insisted on it, so did Scotty.'' Natalie says, sitting next to her. ''You look pale, are you okay?''

Gabriella nods. ''Just a bit... nervous being around the team's families, I'm not exactly... normal, y'know?'' She says, she likes Natalie, and trusts her too. ''Depends on how one defines 'normal', sweetie. My normal and your normal are different. Yours is Elias and Quinn, and that's okay.'' Gabriella nods, and admits while watching the boys skate out for warm-ups. ''I just don't want you all treating me differently, I get enough of that from the press, and I'm sick of it.'' Michela Myers says. ''Well, with us, you're part of the family.''

The game gets underway, Gabriella singing the national anthem with the kids. Brock gets them on the board early, Gabriella cheers for her friend. Halfway through the first, Quinn wires a pass to Elias, who takes the shot from the circle. ''That's my boys!'' Gabriella cheers for them. Late into the period, JT and Danton both notch goals to close the period 4-0. ''Liking your first game so far, Gabriella?'' Brock's girlfriend, Bella, asks. Gabriella nods, finishing her chocolate. ''Yeah, totally different vibe to tennis matches too.''

The second period begins, and the team increase their lead quickly with a goal from Quinn to make it 5-0, and another from Teddy not too long after for 6-0. One of the Sharks scores late into the period for 6-1. During intermission, the announcer for the arena says. ''Tonight, Canucks Nation, we have a very special person in this arena. World Number eleven and Canadian number one: Gabriella Lemieux!'' Her face flashes up on the jumbotron, Gabriella stands and waves to the cheering crowd. Taking her seat again with shaking legs.

The third is a bit dry until the tenth minute, when DeBrusk nets a beauty to open scoring for 7-1, and another one of the Sharks scores another for 7-2 a minute later. ''Come on, boys.'' Gabriella says. In the dying minutes, Elias scores on a breakaway to close the game 8-2. ''That was amazing.'' Gabriella says to Natalie.

Natalie laughs, watching Scarlett take Gabriella's hand. ''Yeah, something tells me Quinn and Elias insisted they win for you.'' They go backstage together with the other ladies. After media is over, Natalie and the kids run over to JT. ''I love the braids, girls, did mama do them?''

Scotlyn nods excitedly. ''Yeah! Now we look like Ella!'' Gabriella laughs, informing her older friend. ''I'm touched, really, I am.'' Elias and Quinn come in, lips puffy from what must have been a post-game kiss of their own. Gabriella kisses them both, and says. ''Fantastic game, my loves.''

Quinn says, smiling brightly. ''All for you, angel.'' Elias keeps his hand on her back, and says. ''They never stood a chance with you here.'' Scarlett asks her daddy. ''Uhm, daddy, why did Ella kiss both Huggy and Petey?'' Gabriella grips Quinn's hand and Elias' bicep tighter.

JT says to the little crowd of kids who have congregated around him at Scarlett's question. ''You know how I kiss mommy because I love her?'' Scarlett nods, JT says. ''Ella kisses Huggy and Petey because she loves them. And, Huggy and Petey kiss because they love each other, and they love her.''

The boys help their shaking girlfriend sit down. ''How can she love both of them, daddy?'' Scotlyn asks.

Gabriella explains in a child friendly way, the same way she did for her nephew back in Montreal when he asked her about how this worked. ''Some people want one cookie with their milk, just like your moms and dads do. Some want two, just like myself, Quinn, and Elias do.'' She hopes the kids understand this analogy, it worked on Mathieu. Little Tristan Myers says, seemingly getting it right away. ''Oh, okay, cool!''

After some time with the team, the trio drive home together. Gabriella needs to get herself a new car at some point, she sold her car before the move, and it's high time she gets a new one. Once home, the boys eat, and they get into comfortable clothes. Atticus leaps up onto Gabriella's lap after she sits on the couch. ''Hello, baby.'' She says, scratching him behind his ear as he likes. ''Well, tonight went better than I thought it would.'' Quinn says, crashing in an armchair with Legolas in his lap.

Elias nods, playing with Finn on the sofa next to Gabriella. ''It did, that 8-2 win was so much better than I expected.'' Gabriella nods, and says. ''Perfect score for the game too. I'm also glad nobody was mean to me tonight.'' She admits as Arwen and Daenerys curl up next to her.

Quinn says, seeming pleased with that. ''Good, you deserve to be treated with respect, and nothing less.'' Elias adds, leaning over to kiss her on the head. ''I'm glad you feel safe at our games.''

They head to bed together, this time Gabriella rests her head on Quinn's chest, he's always warm and his heartbeat calms her down. While Elias holds her from behind, he's the tallest, and the biggest of them. They are both her comfort and safety.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of days pass, the boys are on a four game roadtrip to Colorado, Minnesota, Chicago, and Detroit before a homestay. So, Gabriella is alone at home for a while with their pets. She deals with her emails, filing her first quarter schedule to the tour: Melbourne, Doha, Dubai, and the Sunshine Double. Then, she drags her tennis bags out of the closet to sort through them. She takes her unstrung racquets out, and unwraps the grips. Daenerys seems to like playing with her discarded grip tape. ''Is that fun, Dany?'' She pets her youngest cat on the neck as she likes. The racquet frames will go in the sink later. She tests some sharpies, and chucks them all out. Her tennis clothes go in the laundry hamper, her shoes go in the coat room. Her mini skincare kit will be refreshed, as will her mini first-aid kit. Thankfully, her water bottles are in the kitchen cupboard, and there's no food or energy bars left in the bags. She finds her good luck charm section. She carries four good luck items on her: her first racquet, a family photo, a small Montreal flag, and her nana's rosary. Those stay put. Finally, some dead tennis balls. ''Finn, come here, boy!'' She calls their puppy over. ''Finn, see this, buddy?'' She asks him, holding a tennis ball, he gets excited. ''Go, fetch!''

He runs after the ball, and dutifully brings it back to her, with a small bark that startles Atticus. ''Good boy, Finn!'' Fetching has been the hardest trick for him, apparently because of his breed. Gabriella gives him a small treat. She plays fetch with him for a bit longer. Atticus gives a miffed meow, Gabriella gives her eldest a kiss. ''I love you too, Atticus.'' He's her little star, the cat that she saved, and that saved her.

That takes her until after lunch, then, she takes Finn out for a walk to the local park. The cats are strictly indoor cats, so she loves getting this time with Finn. It's getting colder now, and frosty. Gabriella wants to enjoy this first winter in Vancouver, she'll not see true winter again until next year. It'll be late spring in Australia right now, and heading into summer. She snaps a stick from a tree, and waves it in front of Finn's little face. ''Finn, ready, boy?'' He excitedly pants, and barks. ''Go and get it!'' She throws it for him. He runs off to retrieve it, and drops it at her feet. ''Good boy, Finn.''

A bit up the path, a little girl says to her mom. ''That puppy is really cute, mommy.'' Gabriella clips the leash back on, and walks Finn over to the little girl. ''Can I pet him, miss?'' The girl says.

Gabriella nods happily. ''Of course you can, he's called Finn, what's your name?'' The girl gently pets Finn, and says. ''Emilia, miss.'' Gabriella smiles. ''My name is Gabriella.''

The mom says. ''You don't sound like you're from around here.'' Gabriella says, chuckling at Finn loving the attention. ''I'm from Montreal, I moved west this past summer. I love this city already.''

After their little outing, they return home. Finn goes for a little nap in his bed. Gabriella looks into a good car from a local dealership. She's lucky she doesn't have a sponsorship from a car brand yet, so she has her pick of the crop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella goes down to the dealership the following day, dead set on a French brand of some sort. The owner of the dealership points her in the direction of a really nice and affordable Peugeot hybrid in a rich red. She test drives it around the parking lot, and it drives really well, the seats are comfortable. There's plenty of room in it for the three of them or the pets if needs be. So, she returns to the front and says to the dealer. ''I think this one is perfect, sir.''

He smiles, and says. ''Very well, Miss Lemieux, right this way.'' She goes to sign the papers, and gets the key in hand. And, she's out of there with a brand new car for herself. Once home, she shows the animals the new car. ''Like it, Arwen?'' She asks her eldest girl. Arwen meows.

That night, after the team's 3-2 overtime win against the Wild, she updates the boys over Zoom call while in bed. ''Got myself a car at last, so that's finally sorted.''

Elias asks, smiling through the screen at her. ''Good, what kind of car?''

Gabriella says, sipping her water. ''A deep red Peugeot hybrid. Kind of looking for them to sponsor me, actually.''

Quinn nods, and asks her, in bed next to Elias in their hotel room, making Gabriella really want to fly to St Paul. ''Rogers recently signed you as well, didn't they?''

Gabriella nods, and yawns. ''Yeah, after I made the final in Toronto.'' After some time to talk, they sign off, and get to sleep. Gabriella never feels quite as comfortable on her own as she does with the boys in bed with her, but she's too tired to stay up any longer. There was once a time when sleep was difficult for her, not anymore, thank God.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys are still away on their roadtrip a couple of days later. And, Gabriella has a sit down interview at Rogers Arena with Elliotte Friedman for Sportsnet. She had no idea they were so interested in her until a few days ago. She's had to give plenty of interviews over the last year during her climb to the top fifteen. So, she dresses nice, does her hair and makeup, and drives down to the arena for the interview. She's escorted to a vacant media room, and she meets Elliotte, who greets her with a handshake. ''Hello, Gabriella, how are you?''

Gabriella smiles and says, sitting down. ''Great, how are you?'' Elliotte says, he seems polite enough. ''I'm good, thank you.'' Elliotte does his bit for the cameras. ''So, I'm sitting here with the current Canadian Number One, and newest World Number eleven tennis player - Gabriella Lemieux. Firstly, how does that feel to hear?''

Gabriella laughs, and says. ''It feels surreal, not gonna lie, but I'm so proud of having gotten here. It's nice to hear it, think of where I've been, and where I still can go.''

Elliotte asks her, getting on the subject of tennis right away. ''I suppose we should start at the beginning, how did you first find tennis?''

Gabriella thinks for a moment, and says. ''I was four and a half years old, and the same way we all do, really. Watching tennis matches, and going 'I want to do that! Can I do that?', my parents said yes, and bought me my first tennis racquet for my fifth birthday. I'm a december baby, and that was all I wanted.'' She smiles, and adds to her answer. ''I still carry that little racquet with me in my bags as a good luck charm.''

Elliotte asks her about her childhood heroes. ''Who did you look up to growing up?''

Gabriella says, shifting in her seat. ''Serena Williams is a huge inspiration to me, I remember watching her and wondering; how the hell does she do it? How is she that good? Maria Sharapova as well, she was just so intense. They were before my time, but Graf, Hingis, and Seles inspired me as well.'' Gabriella also remembers her male inspirations. ''Lleyton Hewitt and Daniel Nestor - my coach - also were favourites of mine.''

Elliotte says, nodding. ''I think Serena is an inspiration to everyone. And, how did this partnership with Nestor come to be?'' Gabriella says, that memory sticks in her mind. ''At a tennis tournament when I was seventeen. We got to talking, and he agreed to be my coach as soon as I was eighteen.''

Elliotte asks her, the bond between Gabriella and Daniel is famous by now. ''How important is that relationship to you?'' Gabriella says, smiling brightly. ''Incredibly. I wouldn't be here without him. The only people I'm closer to than him are my family and boyfriends. He's my friend, my second-dad, my confidant, my port in a storm.'' Elliotte asks her, after some talk about her rise in the rankings. ''Now, this was all very quick, because until this past January, you hadn't played a professional match in nine months.''

This is where things get sad for her. ''Yeah, I needed that time off, though.''

Elliotte gently asks her, passing her some tissues across the table. ''Take me back to then if you want to.'' Gabriella nods, and thinks of how to get her story in order. ''Okay, so, I had been with my ex-boyfriend for just over three years, since I was eighteen. We lived together and everything, he played soccer in Montreal.''

Elliotte asks her further. ''What happened there?''

Gabriella gives a sad smile, and says. ''I had just gotten back from our tournament in Miami, this was in 2022. He was meant to pick me up, but he wasn't there. I found out he was cheating on me, and was with his side-piece from a neighbour. So, I packed his shit up, and locked him out of the apartment. He came to get his stuff, and I was in bits inside, and that's when my spiral began.'' The tears are starting already, this is the pain that will never leave her, even after years with her boys.

Elliotte asks her, a sympathetic look on his face. ''What was going on with you after that, Gabriella?''

Gabriella says, turning her grandma's ring on her finger. ''I started having major depressive episodes, to the point of having to force myself to do basic things like getting out of bed. Panic attacks. I wasn't eating properly.'' She also goes into the hardest part of it all. ''I also started waiting for the people in my life to leave me. I started wondering 'how much longer will I have with Daniel? With my friends? My family?' That's something no one tells you about being cheated on, everyone you love becomes suspicious to you.''

Elliotte asks her, still gentle in his tone. ''How did that affect your tennis? Because you were still winning matches, right?'' Gabriella nods, and swallows some water. ''Yeah, I was. But, I was playing to escape my head, to knock myself out at night. I wasn't playing out of love, I was playing out of fear. Fear of my mind, fear of everything.''

Adjusting his seating position, Elliotte says. ''When did you realise you needed help? When was it that you decided to step back for yourself?''

Gabriella gives a hollow laugh. ''Daniel sat me down, and said; ''you're not well, we need to get you into therapy, we can't keep going like this.'' And, I broke down, and agreed to the hiatus.'' She continues. ''So, I got an exemption to go on medication, started therapy, and announced my indefinite hiatus from tennis in spring 2023.''

Elliotte says. ''You had this outpouring of support from your friends on Team Canada and Team USA, how did that feel to receive?'' Gabriella says, tearing up again. ''It felt amazing, you know? Seeing Leylah, Bianca, Denis, and Felix in particular telling me they love me, hoping I came back healthier. I just felt so overwhelmed with it.'' Elliotte asks her about the hiatus. How much those first days off hurt her, how her cats got her through it all. ''I picked up baking and crochet over my break, I also got into house plants. I'd skate, go for walks, take care of the cats. It was good to slow down, by summer I was feeling so much better.''

Elliotte then asks her. ''When did your therapist and Daniel decide you were safe to train again? It sounds to me like tennis became a kind of drug for you.''

Gabriella nods, and admits to him. ''Yeah, it did, I had to give my tennis gear to my parents and everything to avoid the temptation. I was using tennis to hurt myself.'' She thinks for a minute or so. ''I think it was around October when I was allowed to train again, Danny and I got back together in Toronto, and we got on with easing me back into tennis.''

Elliotte asks her, he's spoken to hundreds of hockey players about this. ''What was the hardest part of training camp for you?'' Gabriella says, not needing to think much. ''Learning to play out of love again, re-discovering my love for tennis, why I chose this sport when I was little.''

Elliotte segues into december of last year. ''Then, you come here in December 2023, and fall in love with Quinn and Elias, you go into this season, and become our nation's best tennis player.'' Gabriella smiles brightly, and nods. ''Yeah, it still feels undeserved sometimes, but I'm better at shutting those feelings down now. I'm just happy to finally be in a good place again, with my friends, family, and boyfriends.''

To finish the interview after some talk about her moving west, the trio's life together, and their pets, Elliotte asks her. ''What advice to you have for young athletes going through mental health problems?'' Gabriella says. ''Cultivate a healing environment, you can't get better in the place you got sick. Know when to ask for help. Mostly just trust those around you, there is help, it is open to you, and things will get better.''

Elliotte says, earnestly and kindly. ''It has been a great pleasure to talk to you, Gabriella. Good luck on 2025 and beyond, hopefully you'll be a slam winner when I next see you.''

Gabriella smiles, and says. ''I hope so too. Thank you so much, Elliotte.''

After that, she spends some time at Rogers Arena before going home to the animals. That interview might just be the first really good one she's ever given.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her birthday comes and goes on December 10th, with cake and gifts from her people. A relaxed 24th birthday all things considered, but she'd have it no other way. Then, the trio get shopping for Christmas decorations and a nice tree for the house. They have a vacant corner in the living room that will be perfect for the tree. They arrive at the tree place, and find a perfect one. ''You're a bit later than most families.'' The manager says, as he readies to cut the tree down for them.

Quinn explains. ''It was Ella's birthday four days ago, we don't wanna mix the two events up.''

Elias nods, and says. ''Yeah, our girlfriend deserves her birthday being special.''

Gabriella says to the manager of the place. ''Not always fun having a December birthday. Could never really do anything at school because we'd be decorating for Christmas.'' The manager nods, and says, finishing wrapping their chosen tree up. ''I can understand that, my wife's birthday is on Canada Day.''

They pay up, and load the tree into the car, before driving home to put it up. Then, the fun part. They spend all day decorating the tree and the house. Once done, they crash on the couch together with their pets. Finn looks fascinated with the tree. Atticus curls up in Gabriella's lap, always a mama's boy. ''Like the tree, Atticus?'' She asks her eldest, who purrs contentedly. ''How about you, Legolas?'' The ginger tabby meows. Elias asks Arwen. ''Ready for our first Christmas and Hanukkah, Arwen?'' Arwen purrs, the bell on her collar jingling as she settles down.

Quinn gets back from setting the menorah up, and snuggles with Daenerys. ''How about you, Daenerys? Excited?'' Daenerys chirps as her dad pets her ears. Finn barks, wagging his little tail. ''I think Finn is excited anyway.'' Quinn says.

Elias laughs. ''Yeah, I'd say so.''

Gabriella looks up from petting her feline sons. ''Seems like it, doesn't it?''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a team Christmas lunch at the arena, the team host an annual family skate. Private, with press banned from the place for the whole day. As with other meals, Gabriella eats lightly, wanting to be in fighting trim as soon as New Year rolls around. She laces up her skates, and looks to her boyfriends. ''We ready?'' Elias and Quinn nod, and help her to her feet. They hit the ice together, and skate out before everyone else can make it to the rink. To the surprise of some of the other Canucks, Gabriella is a really good skater. She's sure on her feet, and elegant to boot. ''Didn't know you could skate so well, Ella.'' Conor says.

Gabriella laughs, and comes to a stop on the blueline. ''My mom taught me when I was little.'' Veronique Lemieux is a figure skating coach, and made sure her children knew how to skate. ''This got me through some rough times.''

The family skate goes incredibly well, the other ladies mostly looking after the kids, who invent little games to play on the rink. Gabriella remembers something, she grabs two of her racquets and a ball, and says. ''Anyone up for some ice tennis?''

JT asks. ''Wouldn't that get dangerous?''

Gabriella shrugs. ''Not necessarily, no. Any takers?'' Brock steps up, looking confident in his skating abilities if not in his tennis ability. Gabriella lets him serve first, using the red line as a net of sorts. He serves, and Gabriella returns with a softer forehand. They rally back and forth for a little bit, treating this as a super tiebreak. Which, eventually, Gabriella wins 10-8. ''That was incredible, Gabriella.'' Tocchet says from behind the bench.

Gabriella tidies her things away, and they get back to family skating time. ''Thank you, Mr Tocchet.''

After that, the trio get home, and relax with some hot chocolate and Christmas movies for the rest of the day. Gabriella is desperate to savour this time with her boyfriends. She's got four weeks until she flies to Melbourne for the Australian Open. Four short weeks of time with her two loves. And, she's gonna make them count for something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christmas Day rolls around quickly, Gabriella wakes up warm, her head on Elias' chest, listening to his heartbeat. Quinn's strong arms wrapped around her from behind. It's snowing outside already, something Gabriella doesn't get to see very often anymore. It's nine in the morning. Elias opens his bright blue eyes, and smiles down at his girlfriend and boyfriend. Both of them are so incredibly precious to him. ''Merry Christmas, darling.'' He says to Gabriella.

She gently leans up to kiss him on the lips. ''Merry Christmas, sweetheart.'' This must wake Quinn up, the deepest sleeper of the Whistler Trio. ''Merry Christmas, babe and angel.''

Elias says to his boyfriend. ''Merry Christmas, Wolverine.'' He ruffles Quinn's wavy hair. Gabriella squeezes his hand on her hip. ''Merry Christmas, honey.''

They get about their day, dressed in fluffy socks, sweats, and Christmas sweaters. After pancakes and hot cocoa for breakfast, they dig into their gifts. Quinn gets a special hockey stick from his family with his name, captaincy, number, and Norris win engraved on it. Elias' family have personalized a varsity jacket for him with his three team logos on the sleeves. Gabriella has been gifted a special plaque with her current titles engraved on it from her family, with plenty of room for more. After opening some other gifts, they give their pets some presents. Then, their gifts to each other. Elias has gifted Quinn a new Rolex watch, and Gabriella the prettiest sapphire bracelet and earrings. ''Thank you, Elias.'' Quinn kisses him. Gabriella also kisses Elias. ''I love them, thank you.''

Quinn has gifted Elias a rare Vaxjo Lakers jersey with his name and number on it, and Gabriella a leather bound journal with a wonderful message from them both in the front. ''That is incredible, Quinn, thank you so much.'' Elias hugs him tight. Gabriella leans over to kiss Quinn. ''That's lovely, Quinn, thank you.''

Gabriella has went for something special for her boys. For them both, paintings of their career achievements so far by an artist friend of hers in Italy. ''And, there's these too!'' She hands them an envelope. Inside are grounds passes and tickets for next year's Canadian Open in Montreal. ''This is incredible, Ella, thank you.'' Quinn kisses her cheek. Elias nods, drying his eyes. ''Wow, even my Worlds gold. Thank you, alskling.'' He kisses her other cheek.

They stick some movies on while they have lunch. The afternoon is for relaxing, then, they get the salmon ready to cook for dinner. The thing about having three athletes in this house is that diet plans are pretty much set in stone. Elias gets the salmon ready, Quinn is on the vegetables, and Gabriella adds the finishing touches to her fruit pie - a recipe from her aunt. They sit down to their first ever Christmas dinner together. ''You know, I never once imagined I'd be here, having an amazing Christmas with two men who I love so much.'' Gabriella says.

Quinn chuckles, and says. ''Same, I never thought I'd find two people who I can't be without, but here I am.''

Elias nods, it's an odd little life they're building together, but he'd have it no other way. ''As a kid, I didn't think it was possible to love two people at once, I'm so happy to have been wrong.'' They get dessert done, and relax for the night with the cats and Finn. Then, at eleven, it's off to bed. They snuggle up together in the usual way, and drift off together as always. In a house full of love, full of happiness, full of hope. If there's anything they've learned over this past year, it's that love can be best with three.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, this took me a while to figure out. I've never written a throuple before, so it's a new dynamic for me to negotiate. I'll be going back to the social media format soon-ish. But, I was desperate to write a traditional story with these three, and winter is really the only time they all get together at home, so it was a good excuse to have them all in Vancouver.

Enjoy!

[unclewileys-bahblog]

hi hi hi i wanna be first!!!

couple you make us a hatchetfield ship duo pref mlm and preferably really problematic!!!

if not just anything you wanna make!

i’m so happy you guys made one!

YEAH!! YOU GOT IT >:3 I’m happy we made one too! ^^

Gays under the cut!

Name: Peter Spankoffski, Pete, Petey, Micro-Peter

Age: 18

Gender: Transmasc, Agender, Sunsetgender, Owlboy

Pronouns: They/them, Suns/sunsets, It/it’s, H*/h*m, Ve/vem, Owl/owls, Feather/feathers

Sexuality: Gay, Asexual, Panromantic

Species: Human

Ethnicity: Mixed

Source: Hatchetfield (NPMD, TGWDLM, BF, Abstinence Camp)

Roles: Comfort alter, OCD holder, Hyperfixation holder, Academic alter

CisIDS: Jewish, Mexican, Dark brown hair, Brown eyes, Tall, Slender/Skinny, Crooked teeth, Bad eyesight, Nearsighted, Clumsy, Autistic, OCD, Hyper-talkative, Younger brother

TransIDS: TransAMAB, TransJapanese, TransHardOfHearing, TransShota, TransAge (12), TransHarmless, PermaHappy, TransGreenEyes, TransHarmed, TransStalked, TransAbused, TransGroomed, TransHappyChildhood, TransSeviGenderDysphoria (more), TransBPD, SugarCookieScentian, TransFictional, TransWolfTongue

Paraphiles: Somnophilia, Mesophilia, Thanatophilia, Sadist, Biastophilia, Plushophilia, Aptophilia, Hybriphilia, Autozoophile, Dacryphilia

Other Labels: Monogamous, Grey wolf therian

Faceclaims:

Name: Theodore Spankoffski, Ted, Teddy, Teddybear, Theo

Age: 31

Gender: Cisgender male, Transwomanwaymale, Hellzanic, Unholylexic, Coffeecoric

Pronouns: He/him, Hy/hym, H*/h*m, Sh*/h*r, Coffee/coffees, Bastard/bastards

Sexuality: Bisexual

Species: Human

Ethnicity: Mixed

Source: Hatchetfield (TGWDLM, BF, The Hatchetfield Ape Man, Abstinence Camp, Hey, Melissa!, Time Bastard, Daddy, Workin’ Boys, Forever And Always, Honey Queen, Killer Track)

Roles: Sexual alter, Hypersexuality holder, Vocal stim holder, Organizer, Work alter, Addiction holder

CisIDS: Jewish, Mexican, Brown hair, Mustache, Brown eyes, Older brother, Autistic, ADHD, Social, Talkative, Tall, Coffee addict, Lazy eye, Dyslexic

TransIDS: PermaHorny, TransAgeFluid (20-29), TransHazelEyes, TransAccent (jamaican), TransBlack, TransNeurotypical, Trans🍇ist, TransMurderer, TransStalker, TransGroomer, TransAFAB, TransNocturnal, TransZombie, TransDead, TransVivisectionDeath, PermaBruisedKnees, PermaBlackEye, TransFujoshi, TransNPD, TransBPD, TransASPD

Paraphiles: FictoMAP, MAP, FictoZoo, Drakophilia, Taphophilia, Sadomasochist, Haemotophilia, Raptophilia, Poképhilia, Jeuliephilia, Maiesiophilia, Emapihtophilia, Pyrophilia, Dacryphilia, Spectrophilia

Other Labels: Ambiamorous

Faceclaims:

Hope you enjoy these little guys! And feel free to add/remove, or just change anything about them!

- Mod Eddie

[ripgray-moved]

character stat framework

name: Peter Graham. nickname(s): Pete, Petey, Gray, Stonesy. age: 18/19 ( depending on timeline ). birthdate: 1st November. species: Human/demon hybrid. gender: Male. preferred pronoun(s): He/him. romantic orientation: Biromantic ( heavy female lean ). sexual orientation: Demisexual. parents: Annie Graham, Steve Graham. siblings: Charlie Graham. significant other(s): Verse dependent, main adjacent is @miadeareye color(s): Brown. hair color(s): Black. body build: Skinny, slender. height: 6'0

Tagged by. @triicksters ( thank you! ) Tagging: @scarednotscary / @wickedslip / @cripplemagics / @dcmur3 / @mafiarebelled / @timerevolt / @inseparableduo

[lemlillianlemon]

*log 1, December 1st, 2023, log proctor: Director Tech. {{UPDATE}}*

-log start-

ERROR: IMAGE NOT FOUND

Name: Lewis Cardell Cardigan

Age: {unknown}

Height: 5'6" (167 cm)

Eyes: red

Hair: brown, curly

Glasses: thick frames, thick lenses

Notes: treat with caution, can and will bite, don't touch without asking, treat as a superior treat with respect, he has seen more than everyone at this damn branch. And for God's sake stop calling him "Lemon"!

Dr. Lewis is a shorter skinny man with curly brown hair, brown eyes, and glasses. He has more experience than I do in the field and has endless patience. He has horrible luck and is as flexible as Gumby. He has the wisdom of something immortal and the humor of a twelve year old. His mind is sup-

*end log*

**AUDIO RECORDING: START**

My file is missing most of its contents. Hi, my name is Lewis and I'm what you would call, a director, here at the USDPP. I started here as a simple intern, sharpening pencils, fetching coffee, organizing desks. The meaningless, tedious tasks. Everything changed when I was bringing coffee to a meeting where my bosses were talking about a talking toaster that insults whomever comes across it. Me being the moron I am, said something. I still remember the looks they gave me when I said: "Why don't you give him some food or clean out his crumb tray?". They all looked at me like I was crazy, and yet, they still tried it. From then on, if they had a problem they were stuck on, they would come to me and ask for my opinion on it. From an intern I became a junior researcher. After I was put onto a field team to hunt a werewolf, I was sent out into the middle of Alaska. Ironically it's my home state, yet, I've never been in this part. The werewolf we were hunting was a young boy. My supervisor said that if he didn't turn back or control himself, they would force him to. Now I don't know what they meant and I don't care. I wasn't going to let it happen anyways. When the boy started turning he ran through the woods our camp was at. The poor boy was scared and didn't know what was happening to him. When I saw the poor thing he was caught and hurt, so I did what anyone would do if a dog gets hurt. I approached him and gently helped him before ruffling his fur and loving on him. He turned back into a human after I kissed the tip of his nose like I would with any puppy. The poor boy couldn't have been any older than twelve and he was sobbing when he became human and he clung to me like I was his life line. The poor baby was freezing cold and scared out of his mind. He's my son now, his name is Petey. He's a sweetheart and I love him. That was six years ago, my puppy is now a fully grown wolf and now I'm mad about it because he's taller than I am. After I turned Petey human I was promoted to Senior Researcher. Four years later, A vampire was causing a bunch of problems. No one knew anything about this vampire, only where he would be. When we set up camp I found him digging through the medical supplies for blood bags. This vampire couldn't have been older than sixteen. I had to pick up the poor kid so he wouldn't hurt himself in an accident with all of the iron and silver around him. His name is Hugo and he's my other son now. Petey and Hugo are best friends. They do everything together. I became a director after an incident with time travel, the devil, and a golden fiddle. A long story short is that I beat the devil in a competition and the devil gave me his golden fiddle. My boys love it, they love to play songs on it. Today Lead Director Tech told me that I was giving an orientation to the new recruits. There's seven of them. To the normal world two are famous serial killers, one is a cop from Portland, one is an angel of the Lord, one is a time traveler, one is a british detective, and one is the british detective's impulse control. Their names are confidential but I assume you already know who they are yes? Good. The seven boys each have their own brand of talents, each talent is good for the department. It isn't the first time I've given this orientation, but I've had run-ins with this crowd. The two serial killers and the angel have tried to kill me before (I don't blame them, I was causing a bunch of trouble), the cop has tried to arrest me, the detective knows exactly who I am, the detectives impulse control knows who I am as well, and the time traveler is the reason why I had to beat the devil in that competition. I had to take a deep breath so I don't make things worse for myself more than they already are. "Hi, welcome to the United States Department of Paranormal Phenomenon. No we are not the SCP foundation but we are their sister department and we also have the same goal. You seven, already know me. But you would know me as Lewis, please, call me Lemon."

**AUDIO RECORDING: FINISHED**

You work for the United States Department of Paranormal Phenomena, where you deal with stuff ranging from a harmless talking toaster to world ending eldritch abominations. Today you have been tasked with giving an orientation class to the new recruits.