#Stanley's last thought being “I am home” UGH

[babyblankyerror]

Absolutely awful. Thinking of Water Spirit Stan Au, Stanley gets his memories back and slowly realises how much damage him being there is doing to his brother.

He's dead. Why is his brother still holding onto him, nearly past his 60s or something, meanwhile he's here but not really? Giving him false hope, giving him the idea that he can be brought back just by being there...

"You have to let me go, Stanford" he says softly, feeling the solid pressure of his twin brother's forehead against his one. His body beguinning to undo, water droplets leaving him.

"No- Stanley- No" Stanley doesn't think he's ever heard his brother cry like this, it hurts but it's for the best. He offers a smile and simply turns, feeling the water particles divide themselves kn him as he walks to the horizon of the sea. For a moment, he can hear his brothers calling for him, he imagines Shermie holding onto Ford because Ford is always too stubborn and Shermie the most logically emotional one.

For a moment, a terrifying moment, there is nothing for him to sense as his body is gone and he is but one single particle left, he barely has a half a mind to think "I am home" before...it's silence. He stops and ceases to exist.

[fruitcoops]

Could you maybe write a “73 questions with Sirius Black” Vogue one? Or something like that.

Yes! I had never seen these videos before and it was a fun challenge to write. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

The house is large, two stories tall and painted a soft gray with white trim around the windows. Holiday lights have yet to be taken down and shine in all colors of the rainbow from the eaves as the camera crew walks up the front steps. The curtains in the window tremble for a moment, then a dog pokes her head through—she is all-black and curious, and looks quite large.

Dorcas Meadowes knocks on the front door; a moment later, it swings open and reveals Sirius Black. “Hey, guys, come on in! You can leave your shoes by the door inside.”

“Thanks, Sirius.” Dorcas kicks off her flats and follows him inside as he sets a dish towel on the end table and leans against it. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing pretty well. Morning practice was productive and I’m feeling good about our upcoming game.”

“We’re here today to ask you 73 rapid-fire questions while you lead us around. Sound good?”

“Sounds good. You can all come inside instead of freezing on the porch,” he laughs, waving them closer. The door shuts with a gentle click.

“First question: on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”

“Hmmm. A solid seven.”

“Do you have any pets?”

“I do!” Sirius leads them into the other room, where the dog is curled up on the couch below the window; he picks her up and gives her a kiss on the head. “This is Hattie and I love her very much.”

“Cute! If you could do a dramatic love scene in a movie with anyone, who would it be?”

Sirius sets the dog down and thinks for a second. “Aside from my fiancé, I’m going to say James Potter. We would kill it and I don’t think it would be that awkward.”

“What’s the origin of your name?”

“Pretty much my whole family has star-themed names. Sirius is the dog star from Canis Major.”

“Brightest star in the sky, too. What’s one thing people don’t know about you?”

“I’m an introvert. Lots of people assume that I’m super social because of my job, but I’m very quiet in real life.” He walks back out to the entrance and takes the towel off the table, then moves into the kitchen. It’s well-lit and painted a deep, warm red. The countertop is scattered with knickknacks and picture frames—clearly, this is a place people spend a lot of time. Hattie, who followed them in, lays down by the oven with a heavy sigh.

“What’s your wakeup ritual?”

Sirius reaches up and pulls two mugs out of the cupboard. “I wake up around seven am and make coffee while Re is in the shower, then rinse off and get dressed while he makes breakfast. It’s a good system. Want some tea?”

“Sure. What’s your bedtime ritual?”

“I don’t think I have one,” he says as he puts the kettle on and ignites a burner on the stove. “Usually we read or watch a movie, then go up to bed and talk for a while. There’s not a big routine or anything.”

“Sounds nice. What’s your favorite time of day?” Dorcas sits on the other side of the kitchen island while he takes a box of peppermint tea down.

“That’s a tough one. I like the in-between spots, like just after sunrise or dusk. Three in the afternoon is usually pretty chill as well. Does anyone else want a cup?”

There are a few murmurs behind the camera and he takes two more down. “What is one thing no one knows about you?” Dorcas asks.

He raises an eyebrow. “If I told you, everyone would know, and it wouldn’t count.”

“Fair enough. Dream country to visit?”

“Anywhere. I think I want to go to Ireland first, though.” Small wisps of steam begin curling out of the kettle, but it doesn’t whistle.

“Do you ever feel pressure to post things on social media?”

Sirius makes a face. “I used to. Eventually I just got tired of it, you know? The whole point of social media is sharing bits of your life with people and it makes me happy to show off my dog, or Re, or my friends. I post things just for fun now.”

The kettle begins to hiss and he reaches back to turn it off. “Sneakers or skates?”

“Skates.”

“Vintage or new?

“Vintage, especially for t-shirts and sweaters.”

“Who is your biggest role model?”

“Pascal Dumais.” Sirius stops pouring for a moment to look up at the camera. “If you ever get a chance to meet him, listen to what he has to say. You’ll be better for it.”

“Wise words. How do you deal with negativity? Oh, thank you.” Dorcas wraps her hands around the mug and takes a small sip while Sirius passes the other ones to the crew.

“Honestly? I don’t give a shit. It used to really bother me, but I’m happy, I have a job I love, and my family cares about me. Why should I care what people I’ve never met think of me?” He sits on the counter and rests his elbows on his knees, blowing on the hot water.

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

“My dog, Remus, and my family.” There is no hesitation in his voice.

“Not hockey?”

“I’d be devastated if I couldn’t play, sure, but it’s not the central focus of my life anymore.”

“What’s one ingredient you put in everything?”

“Does salt count?” He winces as he takes a drink. “Ugh, burned my tongue. I put salt on a lot of things because I drink so much water that it throws my balance off.”

“What is something you’re completely bored of right now?”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Gossip columns and tabloids in general.”

Dorcas hums in agreement. “What’s your biggest fear in life?”

“Losing my loved ones.”

“Window or aisle seat?”

“Window. Anyone walking by always steps on my foot or hits my elbow if I’m in the aisle. Plus, I get a good view and an easy nap spot.”

“What’s your current TV obsession?”

“Avatar: The Last Airbender, which I’m watching for the third time already.” He shakes his head. “It’s just so good.”

“Favorite app?”

He takes a second to think. “Spotify.”

“Secret talent?”

Sirius looks at her over the rim over his cup. “This is going to shock you. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Hockey.”

“You’re the worst.” Despite her words, Dorcas smiles. “What the most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?”

“Uh, probably going to Europe with some of the guys last year. We had a lot of fun, but it was crazy.”

“I can imagine it was. How would you define yourself in three words?”

“Tall, dark, and handsome.”

“And apparently not humble,” Dorcas teases. “Favorite piece of clothing?”

“Hoodies.”

“Clothing item everyone should have?”

“Hoodies.”

A door opens behind them and the camera turns; Remus walks out of the basement, covered in sweat as he wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt and holds his skates in his other hand. “Baby, have you seen…” he trails off when he sees the group of people in the kitchen. Hattie’s tail thumps on the floor. “Um. Hello.”

“Hey, Remus, how are you doing?” Dorcas asks mildly.

The camera pans out to catch both Sirius, who is laughing quietly, and Remus, who flushes pink. “I’m good. I thought you were coming at ten?”

“It’s ten-thirty, sweetheart,” Sirius says, hiding his smile in his tea.

Remus glances at the clock before giving an awkward nod and walking toward the stairs. “I guess I’ll take a shower, then. Sorry about that. Uh, carry on.”

“What’s a superpower you would want?” Dorcas asks as soon as he disappears.

Sirius shakes his head with a grin. “Uh, teleportation. That would be really cool.”

“What’s inspiring you in life right now?”

“Ah, une grande question.” He thinks, then tilts his head toward the staircase. “Moments like that. And the Stanley Cup, of course.” He reaches back and knocks on the wooden cupboard.

“What cause is closest to your heart?”

“LGBT+ rights, especially trans rights. I’m privileged enough to have a platform and I intend to be loud as hell about that.”

“Good.” Dorcas sets her almost-empty mug on the table. “What’s one thing you’d say to your teenage self?”

Sirius lets out a long breath and drums his hands on the light blue ceramic of his cup. “I would say…it gets better. It really, really does. You’re going to feel super shitty for just a little bit longer, but then I promise you will be so incredibly happy that you wake up every morning and it hits you all over again.”

Dorcas nods, and the kitchen is quiet for a moment. “What’s a book that everyone should read?”

“The Hobbit, by J.R.R Tolkien.”

“What would you like to be remembered for?”

“This is going to sound so corny, but I want to be remembered for just being a good person.”

“That’s not corny. How do you define beauty?”

“Remus Lupin.”

“That’s corny,” she laughs, making him smile. “What do you love most about your body?”

“I’m a big guy, which can be a little bit intimidating, but it means I give really great hugs. I’m sure everyone saw the video that went around a while ago.”

“Cap Cuddles?”

He snorts. “Right. You’ve got Finn O’Hara to thank for that.”

“In your opinion, what’s the best way to take a rest or decompress?”

“Being alone,” Sirius says. “There is literally nothing better than getting home and sitting down with a book or something while I can hear Re doing his own thing and Hattie’s napping. It’s one of my favorite parts of the afternoon.”

“That’s the most introverted thing you’ve ever said.” Dorcas grins and finishes her tea just as a faint beeping noise begins in another room. “What’s your favorite way to experience art?”

“Through music, for sure.” He slides off the counter and walks down the hall, leading them toward the laundry room. He gives the camera crew a look as he pulls dry clothes out of the machine and heads back to the living room. “What? Did you think I didn’t do my own laundry?”

“You lost a sock,” Dorcas informs him, picking it off the ground and laying it on top of his head.

“Thanks, D.”

“What question do people ask that you wish they wouldn’t?”

“Lots of people have asked me when I decided to be gay, which is wrong on so many levels.”

“If you could master one instrument, what would it be?”

“Guitar or piano.” He dumps the load of laundry on the couch and opens the back door, holding it for the crew as they walk out into the sunshine. Hattie weaves through their legs and disappears into the bushes along the back.

“I might have to take your dog home with me. If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”

Sirius mock-glares at her. “Let me have my girl! Um, I would love to have a tattoo somewhere on my arm.”

“This might be a hard one. Dolphins or koalas?”

“Oh, that is hard. Probably dolphins. The ocean is terrifying but those little guys are just having a blast.”

“What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?” Dorcas asks as he picks up a tennis ball and throws it across the yard. Hattie emerges from the bushes and races after it in a blur of black fur.

“An engagement ring.”

“Yeah, it was.” Remus walks into the backyard and kisses Sirius’ cheek before bending down to catch Hattie in his arms. His hair is still damp from the shower. “Hello, sweet girl!”

“Who’s your favorite musician?”

“Queen.” Sirius laughs at her surprised look. “I’m gay, what did you expect?”

“True. What’s your favorite board game?”

“Monopoly.” Remus and Hattie disappear from the frame, but the bouncing sound of the tennis ball creates some background noise and Sirius watches them for a moment with pure affection.

“Favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Least favorite color?”

“Orange.”

“Bowties or knot ties?”

He frowns. “Don’t they all have knots?”

“Smartass.”

“Yep! Uh, regular ties.”

“Bowties are superior!” Remus calls.

“Get your own questions!” Sirius laughs.

“Going off your music answers: records or CDs?”

“I don’t own a lot of records, so I’m going to have to go with CDs. I love the way vinyl sounds, though.” His eyes widen as he looks to the side. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Remus wheezes. “I didn’t need those ribs anyway.”

“For the viewers, the dog just football-tackled him into the grass,” Sirius says, and Dorcas snorts.

“Your hair is famously luscious. Blow-dry or air-dry?”

“Air dry.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, but tea is nice in the evenings.”

“What’s the weirdest word in the English language?”

Sirius laughs. “There are so many. Uh, ‘jeez’ is the one that comes to mind first.”

“What about the French language?”

“Oiseaux,” he says in a crisp accent. “It means ‘birds’, and you pronounce about three of the actual letters.”

“Good to know. Do you prefer dark chocolate or milk chocolate?”

“Dark chocolate.”

“Stairs or elevators?”

“Elevators. I don’t want to walk up three floors after playing hockey for two and a half hours.”

“Summer or winter?”

Sirius bites his lip in thought as they walk around the yard, where small flowers line the fence in beds and colorful pots. “I love summer because I have actual free time to be with my friends, but winter is hockey season. I don’t know, next question.”

“What’s a dessert you don’t like?”

“I’m not a huge fan of caramel. It’s too sticky.”

“A skill you’re working on mastering?”

“Will you ban me from more interviews if I say hockey?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, I’m working on keeping plants alive, as you can probably see.” He taps the nearest flowerpot gently with his foot; it has ‘Harry’ painted across it in sloppy blue letters. “My godson made that for my birthday.”

“What’s the best thing to happen to you today?”

“This, for sure,” he says with a smile. “I haven’t seen you and Marley in ages.”

“We missed you, too. What’s the worst thing that happened to you today?”

He pouts slightly. “Burning my tongue on tea.”

“Hugs or kisses?”

“Hugs! Though I’ll accept kisses from a few very specific people.”

“Do you have a favorite smell?”

He pauses and cranes his neck to look behind the cameras. “Re?”

“Yeah?”

“What shampoo do you use?”

“Uhhh…” There’s a moment of quiet. “It’s something with lavender, I think.”

Sirius turns back to Dorcas. “Something with lavender.”

“How specific,” she laughs. “What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?”

He smiles to himself. “There was a young woman, maybe sixteen or seventeen, that came to one of the games earlier this season. I saw her standing with a puck and went over, and while I was signing it she looks at me and says, ‘you are exactly what I wish my older brother was like’. Turns out, she was bisexual and her brother wasn’t super accepting of her. That was…” He shakes his head. “That meant the world to me. I’ll never forget it.”

“You’ve definitely made a big impact on the community,” Dorcas agrees. “What’s the last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?”

“I watched ‘Soul’ the other night and almost had to pause it at one point to pull myself together.”

“Do you prefer animated movies or live-action?”

“Animated, mostly because I wasn’t allowed to watch Disney movies as a kid, so I’ve been catching up as an adult and they rock.”

“What’s your nerdiest quality?

“I love watching documentaries.”

“Sweet or savory?” The back door creaks a bit as they walk back inside and the camera catches a few frames of Hattie and Remus running around the yard together.

“Sweet.”

“In ten years, you have a daughter. What age do you let her date?”

Sirius gives Dorcas a look. “Whenever she wants to. I’m going to impose curfews and stuff, but I’m the last person on the planet to police her love life.”

“Good answer. What’s a song you can listen to on repeat?”

“Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen. Absolute banger.”

“If you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be?”

“Arthur Weasley,” he says after a moment. “I would love to know what it feels like to get up in the morning and know you’re about to spend another day wrangling our team. It’s a miracle he hasn’t killed us all with his clipboard.”

“How do you know you’re in love?”

“Oh.” Sirius blinks at her in surprise at the sudden topic change. “Well, for me, I think it’s just…being comfortable around someone. Being able to spend time with them without saying anything and knowing you’re safe, no matter what. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

“What are you most excited about at this time in your life?”

A slight smile crinkles his eyes. “Getting married. That’s going to be awesome.”

“Who is your go-to for having a good laugh?”

“James Potter. He’s the best, and I love him.”

“Last question,” Dorcas says, sliding her list into her pocket. “Many LGBT+ people, especially teenagers, have spoken about how you’re an inspiration. Any words for them?”

Sirius hums in thought. “First of all, thank you for being so open and welcoming. I would never have expected the sheer force of people’s love to come through like that when so many people were saying horrible things. Second, to any kids out there who need to hear it: I’m proud of you. It takes a lot to be true to yourself and even if you’re still in the closet, you’re just as valid as the rest of us. Stay proud.”

“That’s a wrap.” Dorcas gives him a quick hug that he happily returns. “Thanks for letting us crash your morning, Cap.”

“Any time. Thanks for tuning in to Lion Pride, everyone!”

[septiembrre]

Brio #4 a hug after not seeing someone for a long time pls

Ruby & Beth come back from a well-deserved vacation, at least 15 years overdue.

I really thought this was the easy prompt out of the bunch. I thought for sure this one would be just 500 words, a neat and contained ficlet. Oh well, it’s 3k. 

I tagged some folks at the bottom, but just because I tagged you doesn’t mean you have to read it, but there’s a note for you down there in case you get around to it. I’m being a brat and posting too much and I know everyone’s busy with their week. Also, what is this hellish October?

Also here on AO3

-----

So I Come To You, My Love

Beth is itchy, impatient ever since they boarded the plane to go home. Or maybe since they made it to the airport… or rather, since she woke up before dawn, her mind racing with anticipation of her 11 am flight.

Ruby had gotten up, wandered somnolent into the kitchen for coffee, and promptly been accosted with the sight of Beth sitting at the kitchen table of their rental with her pile of suitcases fully packed and ready to go. Ruby had rolled her eyes to high heaven and asked aloud for patience.

At this point, Beth was too twitchy to be apologetic, the airport calling to her like a beacon from afar.  

Ruby had known that it was only the beginning.

She had shaken her head as they flew along in their rideshare to the airport,  Beth silent, taciturn, and unable to make any small talk with their cheerful driver asking them indulgent questions about their trip. She had rubbed Beth’s shoulder as Beth sighed, loudly, multiple times in the line for security, in line for boarding. She had watched as Beth’s eyes had darted to the time on her cell and tracked the clocks ticking on the airport walls. 

Again, Ruby had prayed, Heavenly Father, please give me the patience and understanding to not harm Elizabeth Marks, my aforementioned best friend, on this eight-hour flight. Please bring us safely to our journey’s end. 

Eventually, they settled on the plane and Ruby… Ruby needed a break. Beth and all of her fidgeting were giving her friend nervousness by osmosis. They should have anticipated it, of course. That this is how their fabulous, three-week, best-friend vacation was doomed to end -- in an anxious fizzle.

So, Ruby went about her process. She popped her ZzzQuil and put on her Nidra eye mask (or as Annie would say, “her eye bra”). Then, she wrapped herself up the plush blanket she had purchased for maximum airplane luxury, fully reclined her first-class seat, and adamantly went to sleep. 

It’s in this purgatory that Beth finds herself waiting. 

Waiting.

And still waiting.

At first, she tries to watch a movie, and it plays as told on the screen in front of her for two hours. She barely hears a word. Then, she tries to sleep, too. 

But, no dice.

And she can’t exactly complain and blame it on the flying experience when she’s sitting in first class. The trip, an international vacation to France, had already been the fanciest thing Beth and Ruby had ever done. They had taken three weeks off from work to do it and that time was a luxury in itself. So, when Stan and Rio had combined husband-partner powers (HPP as Ruby and Beth had toasted to, giggling on the first flight across the ocean) and surprised them, upgrading their seats to first-class… It had been the cherry on top of the icing on the cake. 

But, despite all the makings for premium comfort, Beth ends up bringing her seatback upright. 

Instead, she passes the time, tapping her heel and staring off into space. 

While she knows rationally it’s not true, it feels like the longest eight hours of her life. The last half of the flight stretches out before her but this experience certainly wasn’t as long as any of her births, or as stressful as even half of the situations they had gotten themselves into while criming these past four years. 

But, Beth doesn’t ever really do well with prolonged absences from Rio. The anxiety of what it meant before -- ghosting, getting cleaved from the business -- is still something they are working to break from the patterns of their relationship, something Rio is still trying to unlearn as being his go-to answer to emotional conflict. 

But, historically it had unfolded the other way around. There had never been a precedent of Beth being the one to smoke bomb out for a few weeks...

Of course, she wasn’t smoke bombing anywhere, slipping away into the ether. This was a long-planned vacation, months in the making, decades in the dreaming. There had been careful plotting to adjust the slack in the printing schedule and there had been deliberate calendering with the children’s summer activities. And well, Rio knew where to find her -- both where her rental was in Paris and where she more permanently lived (with him). 

And it’s not like they hadn’t talked every morning and every night and sometimes in between of these past three weeks

God, she feels clingy and codependent and too much like her teenagers. Ruby had called Stan half as much. 

And she’s still itchy. 

…And kind of oily now?

She keeps scratching at a spot on one of her shoulders, at her palms, blotting at her face.

The people around her are going to think she has some sort of disease.

Except for Ruby, who knows. 

So, Beth sits there, tapping, scratching, sighing into the void of time. 

And it shouldn’t be so much of a surprise when a little more than halfway through the flight, Ruby’s hand emerges from its blanket cocoon to clamp down on Beth’s jiggling leg. Regardless, Beth all but levitates a foot into the air, gasping. 

“Chill out.” 

Beth takes a deep breath and tries her best. 

Then, she blows out a raspberry. “I can’t.” 

Ruby rips off her eye mask, sighing loudly.  “You’re such a newlywed.” 

“That’s the thing,” Beth says glumly. “We’re not even married.”

“Do you want to be?” Ruby looks over at her best friend, brow furrowed. And she wonders for the millionth time the question she won’t actually voice out loud, What did Rio’s dick do to her friend?

Beth looks back at Ruby, then her gaze shifts away, “No--” It comes out in upspeak, like a question and unsure. She swallows, and tries again, “No.” 

Ruby widens her eyes at Beth who cringes, folding into herself. Then, Beth shifts anxiously in her seat, avoiding Ruby’s gaze. “No, I don’t really… care.” Then, Beth grimaces, realizing it obviously sounds like she cares.

“Oh-kay.”

“I just--” Beth starts defensively, “Three weeks has been a long time to be away from home.” 

The trip was wonderful, a literal dream -- one they’ve dreamt of since high school. But, the three weeks have been a long time, for both of them.

Beth continues, “I’d do it again in a heartbeat but now that we’ve been, maybe two weeks next time.”

Ruby nods. “I can’t wait to see Stanley. Ugh, to hug Harry.” She hugs her own arms around herself picturing embracing her son. “Sara…” Ruby purses her lips. “Can stay at her photography camp.” 

Beth rocks in to nudge her shoulder against Ruby’s, chiding. “You missed her.” 

“Let’s just say that I’m glad I took the higher road and got her those damn macarons she wanted.” 

“I’m glad we ended up doing that, too. The kids are going to be thrilled, especially Emma.”

Ruby shakes her head fondly. “I love that child. Forever my favorite nibling.” 

“Yeah, well Sara is my favorite niece, so don’t be too hard on her.”

Ruby scoffs. “She’s your only niece.”

“And you know, she’s had weeks now to think about it. She’s probably feeling very sorry she said all those things before you left.” Beth consoles, reaching over to hold Ruby’s hand. “Knowing Stan, he’s probably worked his magic on her and you’ll go back and be a perfect family again.”

Ruby shakes her head, then turns against the seat to look at Beth, all charm, “So, who’s your favorite nephew?”

Now it’s Beth’s turn to scoff, “You know Annie would kill me if I didn’t say Ben.” 

“Well, she’s not here.” 

Beth rolls her eyes. “You know Benjamin is as perfect a child as they come. But, I never see him anymore. He’s always off with his friends and suddenly too old to hang out with his younger cousins, too cool to hang out with his favorite aunt-- and you know I’m not good with teenagers.” Beth shrugs. “And Harry’s eight and a mini version of Stan. It’s just not a fair fight.”  

 Ruby smiles, pleased, “I’m going to tell Annie.”

“You can’t tell Annie. I told you that under the assurance of secrecy.”

“Bitch, I didn’t give you no assurance.”

Beth sticks her tongue out at Ruby. Ruby scowls at her back. Then, they settle again. 

“You have plans with gang boo? Oh, excuse me-- Christopher…” Ruby trills. “--Since you’re anxious as all get out.”

Beth arches back against the seat, fidgeting again. “I’m not anxious.”

Ruby levels her with a look.

“I’m not.”  

There’s a beat where Ruby continues to stare at Beth, waiting. Beth rocks her jaw and looks away.

“Why don’t you just text him?” 

“I already did when we got on the plane.” 

“So… message him again?” 

Beth cants her head low, letting her hair fall to obscure her face. 

“He’s being… you know how he is.”

“I… do but I’m not sure I want to know what that means.” Ruby pauses, sitting with it. “Oh my god.” She clamps her hand down again, this time on Beth’s wrist. “Does he want you to take naked pictures in the bathroom?”

Beth tries to snatch her arm away, flailing in the seat.

“What if Delta sees your nudes?! Please, tell me you did not do that in that sardine box ten feet away from me, Elizabeth. Marks.” 

“I didn’t. I would never.” 

Someone a row over shushes them. 

Ruby relinquishes her grip to press at her eyebrows. “Y’all are too much.” 

Beth shrugs. “He really liked those caftans we bought at that boutique.”  

Ruby considers that, thinking about how much she underestimated Christopher Aguilar’s capacity to love her friend. Sometimes it just really is too much to think about. “You got a special night planned?” 

“No,” Beth says shortly. 

“Mm.” Ruby nods along. “You know that man’s not going to let you out of bed, right?”

Beth flushes, squirming again in her seat. And she feels awkward talking about it, but, God, she hopes so?

“When are you picking up your kids again?” 

“Tomorrow night.”

Ruby tsks and looks at Beth knowingly. 

“You really don’t want to try to get some sleep? You’re gonna need it. Hell, I’m gonna need it and here you are keeping me up.” 

Beth laughs shortly. “You’re one to talk about not getting out of bed. Stan literally wrote you an ode last week.” 

Ruby smiles, something soft, small, and happy. “He was trying to compete with Paris.” Then she says, playful. “Almost twenty-five years of marriage and I still got it.” 

Beth looks at her friend and opens her mouth looking for the words. She turns to search Ruby’s face and tries to be vulnerable.

Her voice comes out small and a little desperate, “Do you really think he missed me?”

Ruby snorts. “I’m honestly surprised he didn’t show up in Paris to crash our trip. The man’s a genie. A genie with a lot of dinero.”

And it’s flattering, the image of Rio flying across the world to find her. Of course, he had stayed right where she left him -- in Detroit, in the middle of nailing down some business with one of his bars -- while she and Ruby fulfilled the dream they had for twenty years now. 

It was... something, really something to be flush with cash, for all of the people she loved to be rolling in the riches, to have enough to afford anything she wanted. Security -- what a concept.

But, quickly enough she is so greedy. Beth is already calculating when it would be realistically feasible for her and Rio to take time off together for a trip of their own (maybe a beach this time).  

Beth lets out a long, deep sigh.

“B, that man was glued to his phone for any and every picture or text you would send him about what you were doing. He woke up at some god awful time to tell you ‘Good Morning’ and cleared his schedule every day at 5 pm to call you at the end of ours. He missed you.” 

She whispers. “I missed him, too.” 

“I know,” Ruby says dryly. Suddenly, her hand flies up to push the button for the attendant. 

Beth looks at Ruby nonplussed, as the attendant makes their way down the aisle to their seats. 

Ruby eyes Beth sternly. “We still have two hours on this airplane and we are going to make the most of it. It’s still our vacation and you need to hold your shit together.” 

Pep talk over, she smiles wide at the flight attendant and requests, “Two mimosas, please!”

----

It’s more than two mimosas. When their flight finally lands, Beth and Ruby don’t walk in the straightest line up the jet bridge. 

They pause just out of their gate, a big sense of feeling bringing both of them to a standstill. Tipsy, relieved to be off the plane, and home again, vibrant in this feeling of togetherness with each other, they embrace. 

“Thank you, friend.”

“I hate your face.”

“I hate your face.”

“God, I never want to see your face again.”

They loosen their hold, dab at their wet eyes. 

“Thank you for Paris.”

They tear up all over again. 

-----

Once they make it out of their gate, Ruby and Beth stop to use the bathroom. Beth takes the opportunity to smooth out her hair, dab some cold water at her blotchy cheeks, and reapply some deodorant. 

She thinks she’s going to jump out of her skin. 

Ruby brushes her teeth, and Beth inspired does so, too. They apply lip balm on their chapped lips. Beth pinches color into her cheeks, as Ruby laughs, “He sees you on the daily first thing in the morning. Or do you pull a Midge Maisel on him?”

Beth sticks out her tongue. 

As they get ready to move on and Ruby gets a call from Stan, who reports that they are there waiting outside of customs. 

Beth all but runs to the international baggage claim, Ruby trailing behind her, watching her best friend with great amusement and a little secondhand embarrassment but she’s excited, too. They get in line at customs, and blessedly it isn’t long and they don’t have enough to declare. Quick enough, they’re buzzing through the doors that announce no return entry. 

On the other side are escalators leading them up from the bottom-most level -- international arrivals only -- to the ground floor. Beth files in with her suitcases, behind Ruby.

And as they move further up the escalator, they can spot Stan and Rio waiting for them at the top. 

Beth turns to Ruby, “Store on Monday?”

Who nods back, “Store on Monday.”

As they get closer, Beth drinks Rio in and something unsnarls in her soul. He’s in a black t-shirt, his jeans, and a pair of his typically sharp shoes -- dressed for Detroit in June. Her eye zero in on his ink, visible on his neck, the stretch of skin exposed on his arms, his hands clenched at his sides, the scruff on his face. Video has come a long way but, she’s relieved to see him in real detail. She’s relieved that in seconds she’ll be able to touch him, relieved to see that particular warm look in his eyes, the embers in person. 

Beth can’t help it -- a smile stretches wide across her face. It really hasn’t been that long, she’s spent decades without him, but she feels giddy, goofy, effervescent. She could float right up to the top of the escalator, straight into his arms. But, gravity is real and she has to wait her turn.

Ruby walks off to greet her Stanley.

And Beth walks up to Rio. He reaches forward to pull her luggage to the side and she pauses in front of him. The magnetism of the inches between their bodies is electric, more dizzying than the champagne on the flight. He just looks so good. 

He beams back at her, smiling wide. In the periphery of her vision, she can see his hands twitching.

And-- good.

Beth thinks she could fuck him now, drag him into a bathroom somewhere, but all she wants to do is kiss him. 

So, she does. 

She steps closer, brushing her nose with his (and doesn’t that feel new? And absurdly tender?). Her lips touch his. And God, it’s soft and she’s smiling into it, and he is, too. He tastes like the mint tea he probably had after lunch. And she has the brief thought that they’re so… dumb. He’s thirty-nine this year and she’s in her mid-forties and honestly, this is ridiculous for their age. It’s only been days and they had so much phone sex. But, this real-life thing, it feels so good.

It’s overwhelming. It’s perfect. 

Rio curls his arms around her, smart hands sliding down to palm her ass as he brings her as close as possible. Her hands clutch the back of his neck, feeling the skin there, smelling the musky scent of his cologne, as they cling to each other. One of her hands wanders to trace the sharp prickliness of his buzz cut, and the other one of his twines along the nape of her neck. Heat curls deep in her core, flaring with the feel of him. 

Eventually, they part for air.  Beth nuzzles Rio’s scruff. 

Rio laughs loud, head rolling back and shoulders shaking. Gorgeous. 

“Baby,” he looks at her, biting his lip. “You taste like a bottle.”

Beth gasps, insulted. “I brushed my teeth!” 

“Okay, champ.” He kisses her again, short this time. “You gonna be able to make it home?”

Then, she kisses him again, playfully pushing her tongue in his mouth. He’s panting when they part. And she can’t help it, she’s beaming. 

“The question is, are you?”

-----

The fanfiction I read influences my writing so much. The intertextual winks that stood out to me in this one: 

@sothischickshe -- genie word choice ;-)  

@foxmagpie for the word ‘CANT’? Girl, were you the first person to wordsmith this? I think you were and it’s the perfect description for half the things Rio does with his jaw. This time I appropriated it for Beth. 

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Please Don’t See Me - Chapter 13 (out of 14)

Not – not right. Something was wrong, familiar but not familiar and his head was hurting now, his teeth ached and everything ached. His body felt weird, why was it shaking? Why did he hurt? Where was he again?

 He ached all over, like something was gnawing at him. The bone-deep aching seemed to touch every fibre of his being. It swelled in his jaw, where it seemed to throb alongside his heartbeat. He could hear the crunching as bones shifted and reshaped. He let out a pitiful whine.

 “…with me? Can you…?”

 He hadn’t been expecting an answer to his whimpering. Who was – why? Why was he? No, wait, wrong words. Where was he? He felt like he was struggling to wake from a year-long sleep. Wasn’t sure he wanted to wake up, with the pain radiating through him, intensifying for a moment in his back as cracks and pops shuddered through him. But slowly, slowly, that pain was starting to recede, clearing space for other sensations to filter through.

There was hard floor under his hands. Well, kind-of-hands, with long claws that bit into the wood grain. He could feel air rasping in his throat with every breath that shuddered through him. Something pressed a steady weight against his shoulders, large and warm and grounding. A pair of hands steadying him. Something to focus on. He counted the fingers in his head. One, two, three, four, five, six. Six? He counted again, just to be sure.

 “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

 He knew that voice – lower and a little more prim than he remembered from their childhood, but still familiar. The sense of pack-home-warmth-food-safety-protect. Brother. Brother was there. Brother had given him something awful-tasting, and-

“Stan? Can you understand me?”

He tried to respond but his mouth was dry and only another gasp of air escaped him. How did you speak again? He swallowed hard, testing the muscles that felt like they hadn’t been used in ages. Maybe they hadn’t. When he finally did manage to make a sound it was rough and strained, more of a whine than anything. Maybe it was just the wheeze of his Shift finishing, depositing him firmly as a confused human kneeling on the floor. His claws had shrunk into uneven, dirty nails.

“Just – just nod if you can understand me, okay? Can you nod?”

He swallowed again, forcing out sounds through alien human vocal chords. It came out as a croak. “Ford?”

“Yes!” Someone – Brother – Stanford shouted. Too loud, it hurt his sensitive ears and made him wince. He groaned and brought a clumsy hand up to rub at his throbbing temple. Ugh, either he was hungover or partly in wolf mode or both. Probably both, seeing as he couldn’t quite remember where he was or how he’d gotten there.

“Didja… get the number plate of the car that hit me?”

The words felt odd and disjointed – rusty in his mouth – but they were familiar and made his brother laugh, so he counted that as a win. His memory was pretty blurry, but he was pretty sure that his brother hadn’t laughed in a while. No, Ford had been so frustrated and upset, trying to find some…

…cure.

Huh.

“How do you feel?” Ford was asking him. “Besides hit-by-a-car, of course.”

“Well, I can count up to six and remember yer name, so I’m gonna go with ‘better than before’.” He rasped. With each word his sentences were coming easier, falling into a well-worn pattern of practice. He hadn’t spoken in… how long? Why hadn’t he been speaking?

There was movement, and he was blinking over a shoulder – there were arms wrapped tight around him. A hug? Why was Ford hugging him?

Wait, no, Ford often hugged him. Hugged Rebus. Who was him, who was also-kinda-not-quite Stan?

The final puzzle piece clicked into place, and Stan groaned.

“I turned into a goddamned lapdog.”

The last few weeks were a blur – he wasn’t quite sure it wasn’t all a dream, but he remembered glimpses of it. Of having the mental capacity of a spoon. Napping while Brother worked. A sense of protect-danger-keep-guard-fight. God, he hoped he hadn’t attacked anyone Ford liked.

“Yes. You were Warped.” Ford pulled away to dive into techno-babble, one hand still on Stan’s shoulder. Stan looked around blearily at their surroundings – Ford’s lab, it looked like. The last thing he remembered was being in the forest, but…

He pulled his shredded jacket closer around himself and shivered.

“Do you remember the bear that attacked us?” Ford continued. “You must have ingested some of its blood, because you were affected by the same substance that mutated it. One of the symptoms I’ve isolated is cognitive deterioration, which explains why you were stuck in a simpler mindset. That was the main challenge to reverse. Luckily I was able to figure it out in the end.”

“’Course ya did.” Stan mumbled out. Ford was the smart one, of course he would be able to fix him. Ford let out a little, relieved-sounding laugh, eyes fixed on Stan’s arm as he ran his six fingers over an old scar. At least, it looked old, seeing as it wasn’t a fresh wound anymore. Stan didn’t remember getting it. It looked like some huge bear had taken a chunk out of his arm or something.

…oh yeah, the bear.

“It did take me quite some time to develop a cure. You aren’t the most cooperative subject, Stanley – at one point you climbed onto the roof and then were unable to get down for several hours. I thought your fear of heights had faded since childhood?”

Being dangled over the edge of a five-story building helps with bringing back old phobias. Stan very carefully did not say that out loud. Oh, look at that, his brain was working well enough to recall memories of his escapades with Rico’s gang. Whoopee.

Another shiver ran through him. It was cold down here – or at least it felt that way, given Stan’s sudden lack of fur. The only warmth came from Ford. The nerd was constantly in motion as he babbled, putting a warm hand on Stan’s arm or touching his shoulder or grabbing his face to tilt it from side to side and study his eyes in the light. If Stan didn’t know any better he would have thought his brother was fretting.

Fretting over his latest lab rat, maybe. Was that why Ford had – had fixed him? Because Stan was more useful with his brain intact?

No, Ford was probably just feeling guilty about kicking him out while he was in that state. (And of course Ford would get rid of him, Stan was nothing but trouble, always had been, the only thing he was good at was fucking things up.) So, he found a cure. Undo the damage, fix Stan up before kicking him to the curb, so the scientist could walk away with a clean conscience.

Well, screw that. Ford might as well have just booted him out then and there, when Stan’s head was full of bees and he couldn’t remember his own name. At least then he wouldn’t have had to know that he was being rejected yet again.

As if rejection was something new. Heh, story of his life.

“Stanley, pay attention.” Stan felt a hand lightly tapping his cheek, drawing him back to the present. He finally focused on Ford’s face. The nerd looked almost as bad as Stan felt, with wild hair and tired, bloodshot eyes and ink stains on one cheek where he must have fallen asleep at his desk. He didn’t smell too great, either. Like old coffee, unwashed human and rusted metal. The nerd must have been feeling really guilty to put himself so out-of-sorts. “Now, are you noticing anything unusual for either your wolf or human form? Your eyes are still somewhat reflective but that could just be a werewolf trait rather than a Warped trait. You feel hot, you may be developing a fever. Stay here, I’ll get a thermometer – or, do you think you can stand?”

“Why did you fix me?                      

Ford looked as if Stan had slapped him. Shit. Stan hadn’t even meant to speak, but the words had slipped out.

Well, gotta commit now. He shuffled back and folded his arms over his chest, trying and failing to meet Stanford’s eyes.

Ford made a disbelieving sound. “You’re my brother. I couldn’t just leave you like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you felt responsible or whatever.” Stan waved his hand dismissively (and clumsily, because coordination with hands was hard. Too many moving parts.) “But did you ever stop to consider that maybe I didn’t want to be fixed?”

“Why on earth would you want to stay like that?”

“Ya didn’t even have to put up with me!” Stan shouted, flinging up his arms, and Ford’s mouth snapped shut. His chest bubbled with anger. “You could have just – I dunno, sent me off into the woods or something.” And it would have hurt just as much, sure, but Stan wouldn’t have been around to feel that pain. “I woulda been fine.”

“You were an animal-”

“But at least I was happy.” Stan snapped. “When – when yer mind is mush at least you don’t know what you’re missing out on, you don’t know that people don’t want you around, you don’t have to be sad all the time. Maybe I like not bein’ me. Maybe I like not knowing how much of a screw-up I am. Maybe I don’t want to know that I’m JUST ANOTHER EXPERIMENT TO YOU!”

Ah, shit. Way to go, motormouth.

Stan huffed and finally met Ford’s eyes, expecting his brother to look angry at his outburst – and maybe, just maybe, a little bit guilty. He hadn’t expected the aghast look he received.

“Stanley.”                                          

Stan flinched back, suddenly very unsure of what was going on and what Ford’s horrified reaction meant. “What, what did I do?”

“Stan, of course you’re more than an experiment. If – why do you think I worked so hard to bring you back?” Ford leaned forward and grabbed Stan’s shoulders again. “If I wanted a lab rat I would have left you in that form, which now that I say it seems quite heartless and this is really besides the point because the point is that I didn’t. You’re my brother, Stanley, whatever grievances we’ve had in the past. And… and if I’ve made you feel that I would think otherwise I apparently haven’t been a very good brother.”

Stan scanned his twin’s eyes, trying to find some hint of dishonestly – any indication that he was lying. He found nothing. And damn it, now he was even more confused!

“…what was all that talk, then?” Stan’s voice was rough. Lack of practice probably. He sounded like a chain smoker. “The ‘it’s my life’s work to study anomalies’ and stuff?”

“It is my life’s work to study anomalies. What does that have to do with this?” Ford frowned, as if confused. Stan spluttered.

“The – the whole ‘only-not-kicking-me-out-because-of-it’ deal!”

“I didn’t say that!” Ford protested.

“Yes you did! You said it right to my face!”

“All I said was that I wouldn’t be-”

Ford stopped. Blinked hard. Swallowed. Stan could almost see the cogs whirring in that big old brain of his.

“…oh. I can see how that would give… the wrong impression.”

Stan groaned and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to grind out the headache he could feel growing there. “Look, Ford. I just – I’m tired, okay? So you can just say your piece and send me off or study me or whatever. But don’t make me –” He let out a frustrated growl. “Just stop givin’ me false hope, okay? I don’t wanna hear it. I’m just… tired.”

The last word was low and pathetic. God, what was wrong with him? C’mon Stan, get your act together! He was a fucking werewolf for crying out loud, and he was sitting here acting like a kicked puppy. No wonder Ford was…

Hugging him again?                

“Hey, hey hey hey, what’s goin’ on here?” Stan flailed a little in the rib-squeezing grip. His eyes prickled – because he was stupid and Ford was hugging him, Stanley, and Stan hadn’t been deliberately hugged in almost a decade. Tears spilled over without his consent. Thank god Stanford couldn’t see his face.

“I’m hugging you.” Ford mumbled into his shoulder.

“Yeah, I – I get that.”

“It has been brought to my attention that I’m not very good at communicating sentiment through words.” Ford continued. “So, I – I’m hugging you instead.”

“…okay.”

______________________________________________________________________

Ford was beginning to realize that he had – eloquently speaking – fucked up.

When he and Stan were younger they had been thick as thieves. Ford could read his brother’s face as easily as an open book. He’d known when Stan was hurting, or feeling guilty or lovesick or whatever else the knucklehead had seen fit to try and hide. Stan had always been better at reading people but if there was one person Ford understood, it was his brother.

He didn’t know how to read his brother’s face now. Maybe Stan had learned to hide his feelings better, or Ford had simply forgotten how. Either way, Ford hadn’t been able to tell what Stan had been thinking since the man had barged back into his life. His brother had been hurting and Ford hadn’t even had a clue. And now everything he said seemed to make it worse.

So Ford didn’t speak. He hugged his brother tight and didn’t let go.

After another moment Stan hesitantly hugged him back, scarred arms closing loosely around Ford’s back. A shudder ran through him and he sniffed. Then hiccupped. Then sniffed again, as if he were desperately trying to hold back tears and failing.

Ford weighed his words carefully before speaking. “…I don’t want you to leave.”

Stan’s fingers dug into his back as the man stiffened.

“Not because of my research, I mean.” Ford continued. “Honestly, Stan I – I missed you. Through the last nine years. You were such a huge part of my life and suddenly you were gone. I wanted to have my freedom – to go to college and move away from home – but never at the expense of my brother.”

Ford’s mouth was dry. He swallowed and forged on.

“Having you back – even in disguise – has been wonderful. I didn’t realize how much I missed you until I got you back. How much I missed my brother. I was so afraid that I’d lost you forever.”

He forced his voice to not wobble; emotions were well and good but falling apart over that particular scenario could wait. Right now Ford was trying to make a point, he didn’t have time to be distracted.

“I’ll understand if you never want to see my face again but please trust me, I want to keep in touch. I don’t want you to just disappear again. And I most certainly will not force you to do so. Do you understand?”

Stan was shaking. Ford rubbed slow circles on his back, desperately hoping that he was helping instead of making things worse. Stan made a soft affirmative sound.

“…mm hmm.”

“And I worked so hard on curing you because I care about you. Even though I may not be good at showing it.”

“Mm.”

Ford gave a low chuckle. “Plus, I… may have gotten in over my head, just a little bit, with some of my experiments. I’m glad I’ve had you to watch my back.”

Stan snorted. His voice was barely a mumble through Ford’s coat. “A little? On day two I was saving your ass from a bunch of angry cat-birds.”

“Griffins are not cat-birds! They are eagle-lion hybrids. And for your information they are generally non-aggressive unless provoked! I just… got a little close, is all.”

Stan pulled away, chuckling wetly as he scrubbed at his face with a torn-up sleeve. “Yeah, whatever.” He cleared his throat. “Jeez Poindexter, you need to sweep down here. You, uh, got a lot of dust.”

“…sure. Dust.”

Stan’s clothes were unsalvageable at this point – torn to ribbons and stained with blood and dirt and other substances Ford couldn’t identify. Even if they ceased to exist when Stan took his wolf form (which would be an incredible thing, Ford had to investigate its limits and the logic behind it) he had been wearing them for far too long.

Which begged the question…

“Stan?” Ford ventured. Stan looked across at him warily.

“…I don’t like that tone.”

“Why did you stay for so long?” Ford crossed his legs to settle next to his brother, since Stan didn’t seem like he was ready to move. “Not that I haven’t appreciated your company, but…?”

Stan buried his face in his knees and mumbled something.

“Stanley, you know I can’t understand you when you mumble.”

“That’s the point of mumbling.” Stan said a little louder.

“You’re dodging the question.”

“Deliberately.”

“Just answer it!”

Were shoulder punches still safe? Ford risked it, and was rewarded with another snort of amusement.

“Ugh, whatever, nerd. I didn’t really have anywhere else to go so I figured – why not stay for a while? Ya know, in case you needed me to bail you out again.”

“Nowhere else to go?” Ford echoed, mystified. Of course Stan had somewhere to go – he must have had a home somewhere! He even had a car… which, now that Ford came to think about it, seemed rather lived-in. And wasn’t even registered. And there was the fact that his brother was dressed like a hobo. And had a mullet. “…oh.”

“Just shut it, I don’t need yer pity.” Stan rolled his eyes. “Yeah. By the time I got outta that stupid cage I figured ‘hey, might as well stay for a bit’ and you know the rest. Now you got your answer, I’m a homeless bum. Go ahead, yuk it up.”

“I’m not laughing.”

Stan squinted at him suspiciously. And… he looked pretty terrible. Ford was pretty sure that he looked like a mess but Stan was twice as bad. His skin was sallow and waxy and his eyes were sunken in, the skin around them dark like a raccoon’s.

Alright. Priorities. Ford pulled in a deep breath, and let it out.

He climbed to his feet and offered a hand. “Do you think you can stand up? You should take a shower and make sure there’s no Warped blood on you. I have some clothes that should fit you, and then you’re going to eat a vegetable. Human bodies need vegetables, Stanley.”

Stan peered at him. “I’m not actually a human, Sixer.”

“Human or not, vitamins are important. Come on.”

Stan reached up, and then hesitated. “Are, um – you sure you want me in your house? After all the, uh…”

“Deceit?” Stan flushed and looked away. “We’ve both made mistakes. And you can more than make it up to me by telling me about werewolves like yourself.”

“I – I won’t touch anything. Or break anything.” Stan mumbled.

“Except for my door.”

Stan flinched. “That wasn’t – I mean–”

Of, curse it. Ford hurried to reassure him. “No, no, I’m sorry, that was a joke. A poor one.

“…your jokes are terrible.”

“My timing could use work.” Ford conceded.

“We’re such a mess.”

“That’s an… accurate way to put it, actually. But you’ll just have to get used to it, because you’ll be staying with me for the near future.”

“I – what?” Stan jerked.

“You said yourself, you have nowhere else to go. And you’ve certainly been pulling your weight, what with making sure I don’t die. So you’re staying here, for as long as you need. Unless you have any other plans?”

Stan spluttered.            

“Just take my hand already.”

With shiny eyes and a rather red face, Stan did. Ford pulled his brother to his feet.

And then promptly went down again as Stan’s legs gave out beneath him, sending him into Ford and both of them to the floor.

 “…you do remember how to walk, right-?”

“Stupid fuckin’ legs-”

“That’s alright, take your time.”

“Shut up!”

[whoacanada]

Zimbits fic  - ‘I know you are, but what am I?’

Magic AU, inspired by ‘The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina’

Word Count: 3k+

Summary: After the Falconers take the Stanley Cup, Eric begins to notice his life changing in unwelcome ways. Good thing he has a loving partner who would never hide anything from him. 

Right?

Notes: Witchcraft. Nothing too intense, if you’ve seen the netflix show, that���s worse than this.

Crossposted to Ao3

“MooMaw? This is Jack, he’s a friend from college.”

Bitty's grandmother bypasses Jack’s outstretched hand and slaps her hands firmly on Jack’s cheeks, pulling him down to stare him in the eye. She’s small enough Jack has to bend at the waist, but she seems to appreciate his cooperation, even as the rest of the family begin stammering apologies.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jack says, words muffled by the hands squishing his face. She narrows her eyes at him and looks past a horrified Suzanne to Bitty, who is probably bright red with embarrassment. Rightly so.

“You didn’t tell me he’d been touched, Dicky.”

At the time, Bitty had been so horrified he hadn't quite caught the intent of what his grandmother had said. 

“I’m sure the boys are tired, mother,” Suzanne interjects with a forced smile nudging them both toward the stairs. “Dicky, you want to show Jack where he’ll be sleeping?”

In retrospect, Bitty should have seen the signs for what they were.

In the months following the Falconers’ title, and Bitty’s own glorious rise into the court of public opinion thanks to his lack of foresight, life had been good. Then, suddenly, almost overnight, it wasn’t.

Between classes in Samwell and and nights with Jack in Providence, Bitty tries to sleep. When he manages to, he dreams. If they can be called ‘dreams’. Terrible nightmares and beautiful visions come in equal measure. Every night, every nap, he’s given another piece of a puzzle he can’t hope to comprehend. He wakes up more exhausted than when he laid down and most mornings he’ll wake up and stare out the window to watch the sun rise. It’s as much as he can manage — to let nature handle whatever is happening within him.  

Eventually, Bitty can’t sleep at all. By the seventh night, unable to vlog, and eating ice cream straight from the carton in an effort to stay awake, Bitty gives up.

Jack's season is over so Bitty has no guilt about kicking his boyfriend awake.  

"Hnn?" Jack rolls over and looks at Bitty blearily. "Whatzit? Bits?"  

"I can't sleep."

Jack drifts back under almost immediately and Bitty resists the urge to drag him off the bed in retaliation. At least for the time being, he's in this alone.

The extra linens are in the hall closet — Bitty doesn't bother with stealing blankets from beneath Jack's sprawled body, star-fished across the entire bed like he's half-Kudzu.

"Rude," Bitty whispers, tickling behind Jack's knee to make him twitch so Bitty can snatch Señor Bun from where he's being crushed beneath Jack's thigh. He throws on Netflix in the living room, wraps up in a heavy quilt, and spends the rest of the morning regretting his life decisions.

When Jack finally emerges from the bedroom at 6am, Bitty greets him with an exhausted, guilt-inducing, "I can't live like this." Jack, bless him, takes the hint and immediately starts on making breakfast; a real one with omelets and bacon and a noticeable lack of protein powder.

"You should call in," Jack insists when Bitty can barely keep his eyes open long enough to feed himself. "You're exhausted."

"Something's wrong. With me. With the bed. Something. I can't work if I can't sleep. Can't do anything if I can't sleep."

Bitty startles when a fork appears in front of him: a neat, steaming square of egg held patiently by his partner. He doesn’t remember seeing Jack actually cooking, only prepping.

"You nodded off," Jack says, answering a question Bitty hasn’t asked, and he almost misses the look of knowing concern that flits over Jack's features. Empathy at best, sympathy at worst. "Open up. You need to eat something."

"You don't have to feed me," Bitty protests, even as he opens his mouth.

"Started after the Cup? Just insomnia?" Jack continues, cutting another piece of the omelette before feeding it to Bitty.

"Nightmares. Mostly. Then insomnia."

"Hmm."

"What, you think you know what it is?"

"I have an idea," Jack hands back the fork and scoots back from the table, running a hand along Bitty's back as he heads back to the kitchen. “You’ve been under a lot of stress.”

"Hon?"

Jack is quiet long enough Bitty thinks he may have left the room. Instead, when he looks up, he finds Jack intently tapping on his phone.

"You should call in today," Jack repeats, this time as an order, not looking up from the device. "My parents are still in town and Maman has been bugging me about spending quality time with you. Use that spa package the Falcs gave us. Go spend the day with her, see if you can relax. I'll have a new mattress by the time you get back."

"You don't have to do that, it's just me being me. Much as I love your mother.”

"What's the point of having this life if I can't take care of you?" Jack's gaze flicks back up to Bitty, distant, like his attention is suddenly on another matter entirely. “Let me do this.”

Bitty gives in because, really, what else can he do?

Truth be told, Bitty can’t remember all of what happened between leaving the apartment, meeting Alicia (”Oh, you poor thing.”), and ending up back home. 

True to Jack's word, there's a new mattress on their bed: a delightfully plush pillow top that seems to be off-gassing lavender; but the relaxing scent is warring with something pungent and curiously damning.

"Is that sage?" Bitty asks, taking off his coat.

“Smudging. Shitty's idea," Jack admits, sniffing reflexively. "Get out the bad energy. Or something. Worth a shot."

“Oh, here.” Jack hands Bitty a slip of paper, on it, a note written in Jack’s own scratchy hand, is a string of French Bitty is ashamed to admit he still doesn’t understand. “For relaxation. You say it in the shower, before bed, anytime you need to calm down.”

Bitty falls face first onto the bare mattress, and, for the first time in what feels like weeks, he’s out like a light.

“What are we making today,” Jack hands Eric a single egg, eyebrows dancing. “Taking suggestions?”

“You wish, this is for Angelique in the front office. Promise made, promise kept—” Eric splits the egg and a red, bloody yolk drops into the the batter, startling them both.

“Crisse,” Jack curses, snatching the bowl to inspect it before dumping the whole mess in the trash.

“Ugh. No brownies, then?” Eric jokes, trying to calm himself as Jack takes the carton from the fridge and cracks another egg over the trash. This one is fine: a healthy, expected orange. “I’ve never seen that before? I’ve been cooking my entire life, MooMaw had chickens and I’ve never—”

“It happens sometimes,” Jack grouses, breaking normal egg after normal egg before handing Eric the last one still clutched safely in his fist. “Here. Try again.”

“Just throw out the whole mess, hon,” Eric waves Jack’s hand away but the man is insistent. “I’ll go to the market and try a different brand. Maybe this wasn’t the best plan for today.”

“One more, for me,” Jack urges. “I’ll buy more. Just, please.”

“Money is not the issue, here,” Eric takes the blue-green egg from Jack’s palm and cracks it on the edge of a spare bowl. He misjudges the strength of the shell and the whole thing crushes between his fingers, smearing rancid red and black all over the counter.

“Fuck! What’s wrong with it?!”

“…Spoiled.” Jack spits, snatching a dishtowel from the oven. The explanation makes zero sense to Eric, not that he’s level headed enough to think it through when the smell hits him.

“Oh, Lord, I’m gonna be sick —”

“Bath,” Jack blurts, guiding Eric to the sink, tapping the faucet on. “You need to take a bath. Right now. I’ll get the water started.”

“Wait, Jack —”

But he’s already gone.

“I just took a shower,” Eric laments, trying not to look down as he scrubs the gunk from his hands and under his nails. “But I guess this is disgusting enough to warrant another one.”

“Bath,” Jack calls from the bedroom. “No showers. Rinse it off and come in here.”

Jack's got the water running and at least six of Eric's good beeswax 'date-night' candles lit.

"We aren't making rancid egg goo sexy, are we?"

"Of course not," Jack's taking off his shirt which implies otherwise. "I'm gross, too."

"Yeah, you are," Bitty is trying to be playful but there's still red under his nails.

"Get in. You first."

Bitty’s barely settled when Jack slides in behind him, water sloshing dangerously close to the top of the tub, never quite going over. It’s nice. They haven’t done this in a while. Too long. Though, this doesn’t feel much like a romantic evening, more like a disgusting afternoon as Jack loops his arms around Bitty’s torso and holds him tight, murmuring something not quite English, not quite French, in a soothing, but hurried tone.

“Bits?” Jack, breaks for a moment, running his fingers over something on Eric’s hip. “What is this?”

“Hmm?” Eric looks down and finds Jack poking at his birthmark with no small measure of interest. “What?”

“I don’t remember having seen it before.”

“Oh, that darn thing? I’ve had it forever. Usually, I throw a little concealer over it or something.”

“Since when? Doesn't matter. That seems like a lot of effort for a birthmark. It’s not ugly, and I’ve never noticed it before now.”

“Oh, I hate it. I’d get it removed but no dermatologist I’ve seen will touch it. Who knows.”

“Who wanted it removed? You?”

“My grandmother,” Eric sighs, reaching down to poke where Jack’s fingers are resting. “Not MooMaw, Coach’s mother, Grandma Catherine. Apparently, she wouldn’t hold me as a baby because she thought it was a bad omen,” Bitty doesn’t mention how she’d terrorized his poor mother and ultimately ended up banned from the Bittle-Phelps household.

“She sounds like a bitch,” Jack mutters after a moment, catching Eric’s hand beneath the water, lacing their fingers.

“She was,” Bitty breathes, leaning into his boyfriend’s touch as Jack begins whispering again.

Bitty startles, phone falling between the pillows and hitting the floor with a low thud. He can't reach it.

"Of course," Bitty sighs, kicking off the sheets to slide out of bed and start a blind search. He doesn't find his phone immediately, though he does feel a mess of dirt and grime beneath his fingers. "Our cleaning service has not been doing a great job," Bitty complains to himself, finally getting a grip on his phone. "Gonna have to tell Jack — ”

When he pulls back his hand is covered in dust. His phone as well. Far too much to be explained away by a lazy cleaning crew. Or maybe just a lazy boyfriend.

Bitty grabs the base of the bed and pulls, frame squealing in protest of the action, and when he's made enough progress Bitty turns on his flashlight and illuminates half of a good sized ring of something that had previously been directly under his and Jack's bed. It's dark lines of paint, crushed leaves, a puck, and —

"Señor Bun!"

Bitty snatches his stuffed rabbit from the center of the circle and hugs him tight, trying not to overreact about whatever mildly-satanic insanity has been going on beneath him while he sleeps. Bitty snaps a photo of the scene and texts it to Jack with a succinct message of 'Please tell me this is you'.

"Don't you lie to me, Mister," Bitty whispers, dragging the bed back to cover the symbols like somehow covering it back up will make it go away.

Jack's reply is immediate.

‘Oh you found it’

[…]

‘Happy Halloween?’

“Bullshit,” Bitty growls, clutching Bun tight. “You hate Halloween.”

He texts Jack as much.

“Bits, look at me,” Jack holds his gaze firmly, though he’s attempting to be playful. “We’re going to do some word association, alright? I’m going to say some things and you just answer with the first thing that pops into your mind.”

“Okay,” Eric laughs. “If we must.”

“Alright, let’s start now. Ready?”

“Sure.”

“Dark Lord.”

“Voldemort.”

“Coven.”

“Jessica Lange.”

“Uh, how about ‘familiar’?”

“Overly,” Eric winks.

This isn’t the answer Jack seems to be looking for.

“Fuck,” Jack sighs.

“Me?” Eric chirps, earning a playful, halfhearted shove in return.

“Easy --”

“You.”

“Shut up,” Jack tugs Eric into his lap and snuggles him tightly. “Game’s over.”

“Well, you are. Easy, that is,” Eric laughs between kisses. “You did this to yourself! With your spooky wordplay.”

“You really are clueless, aren’t you?” Jack mumbles, pressing his lips to Bitty’s neck.

“Ouch,” Bitty swats his boyfriend’s arm. “Unnecessary.”

Jack dodges the comment and goes quiet, his lips still against Bitty’s skin as if someone has pressed a pause button on their evening.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Jack says finally. “About me, and I really don’t want to scare you.”

“You cheatin’ on me?”

It’s the first thing that pops into Bitty’s head and he feels foolish for even saying it aloud when Jack snorts and shakes his head; which Bitty feels more than sees.

"Fuck no. Not in a million years. This is different. When I turned 16, I had to make a decision,” Jack awkwardly maneuvers around Bitty to stand them face-to-face. "I got lucky, because of my parents, their standing, but I . . . you know I'm not like everyone else, right?" Jack says, resting his hand on Bitty's cheek in what he probably intends to be a comforting gesture. “The others?”

“You’re . . . talking about the draft, right?” Bitty hazards.

Jack frowns, expression far too sober for Bitty to play this off as a joke, and holds his other hand up, revealing a small, violet flame cupped in his palm; so small and quaint it could be mistaken for a party trick. Bitty doesn’t even hear Jack’s warning as he reaches out to touch.

“What! How are you doing that -- Ow!”

“It's fire, bud,” Jack chastises, immediately checking the burn. 

“Because purple fire is normal,” Bitty sticks his finger in his mouth and glares at Jack before the weight of the moment catches up to him. “How did you do that?”

“I’m a member of the Church of Night.”

“Which is what.”

“I have supernatural abilities.”

"So, you're, like, a witch, then?"

“Give me your finger,” Jack tugs Bitty’s hand from his mouth and kisses the burn before whispering something against the red skin. The pain vanishes alongside the mark, which is not the most troubling part about the moment they're sharing. “Warlock,” Jack corrects, swiping a bit of stray saliva from the corner of his lip. “Try again,” the light dancing in Jack's palm is back, larger and terribly enticing. “Go on, Bits, it won’t hurt you, now that I know you’re just gonna go for it.”

Bitty reaches out a second time and Jack doesn’t recoil as the purple flames, cool to the touch, grow larger and dance between Bitty's fingers.

“You’re taking this really well.”

"This doesn't seem so scary," Bitty admits, leaning into the half truth as he pulls back to check his skin for any burns; Jack makes a fist, extinguishing the flame.

In another world Bitty actually possesses the confidence he's pretending to exude. In reality, he's low-key terrified; fighting off an existential crisis and trying to keep his composure as the man he loves tells him not only that magic is real, but that he himself is some kind of witch, and not a fun one. He’s something much more traditional that Bitty has not been raised to be comfortable with.

"Pyrokenisis is difficult," Jack defends, sounding like his old self again. "Most don't attempt it until they have years of experience with conjuration."

Just like that they're back to normal. Jack's air of mystery vanishes as he petulantly snaps another flame into existence, this one almost white and much larger. Bitty has flashes of his freshman year when a Quinnipiac d-man doubted the strength of Jack's slap-shot and Jack 'accidentally' cracked a pane of glass on the next shift.

Classic Zimmermann ego.

"Not just a hockey prodigy, then? Kind of a big deal off the ice, too, I bet," Bitty teases, hiding his fear behind humor as Jack goes pink and the flame falters. "You ever cursed anyone?"

Bitty watches Jack's left eyebrow twitch.

"Who was it?"

Jack's lips thin, though Bitty can tell the gesture isn't in irritation at being caught. The man is fighting a smile.

"It doesn't matter. Anything that happened was deserved."

"In that case, I have a lot of questions?" Bitty says once he's rediscovered his voice.

"And I'll answer all of them," Jack insists, bravado vanishing as he sags with relief. "Soon. Promise. Everything and anything you want to know."

"Have to admit, I'm a little intimidated," Bitty steps into Jack's space and allows himself to be pulled into his boyfriend's arms, trying not to tense. "Silly me, thinking I was the only secret you were hiding."

"I can have secrets. Makes me interesting." Jack runs his hand along Bitty's back.

“Makes you stressed,” Bitty counters.

“Also true.”

"What does all of this mean for me?"

"I don't know, yet. Still trying to figure that part out."

Bitty takes a moment to think about his life, then grabs Jack’s hand and drags him to their bedroom. He leaves Jack standing in the doorway to grab the corner of the bed frame and drag it sideways, revealing the madness beneath.

“Explain.”

"It's a protection ward." Jack doesn't miss a beat. "I laid it down after the egg incident. Didn't want to risk anything happening."

"To me."

"To you." Jack affirms, walking across the room to kneel and nudge a stone back into shape. "I have enough wards on me the only person who can hurt me is me, evidently," Jack looks up, apologetic. "I was worried about all the attention on you."

"If it’s for protection, does that mean people want to hurt me?"

Jack licks his thumb and smears something that could be ink. Or paint. Its viscous, a dark color Bitty can't identify and doesn’t want to examine too closely.

"One would be too many for me," Jack answers, wiping his hand on his jeans. "Better safe than sorry."

"Okay, so," Bitty kneels down beside his boyfriend and points at an off-white lump in the leaf pile. "Is this a tooth?"

The sheepish look is back.

"Euh, yeah, don't worry, it's one of mine."

"Oh, that doesn't make me not worry, Sugar. Not reassuring at all,” Bitty toes a leaf over the tooth, hiding it from view. “Don’t recall much human bits in the ‘good magic’ column.”

Jack flashes a smile, like they’re sharing a secret. Which, Eric realizes, they are.

“This isn’t like tv, bud. Though it doesn’t do itself any favors in the way of aesthetic, I’ll admit that much.”

“Can you…show me, um,” Eric nudges a leaf with his socked toe. “Some more? Maybe?”

The smile on Jack’s face is as wide and bright as Bitty has ever seen.

“Yeah, bud, I’d love to.”

[shandidellamorte]

~StarChild Assassin Side Story 6~

An Ace/Tommy origin story! Requested by @misslivvie and @cptnruski! Enjoy, my babies~!! =3

~Shandi

Ace and Tommy think back to how they first connected~

A COMET REDISCOVERED

Tommy woke up to Ace’s side of the bed being empty. He frowned and looked at the clock. 3:25 am. Insomnia was striking again it seemed. He caught a glimpse of his lover outside, leaning against the balcony having a smoke. He sighed. He’d been trying to get Ace to quit but it looked like it wasn’t taking. “Ace?” He went out to the balcony and pressed his cheek against Ace’s bare shoulder. “Can’t sleep again?” Smoke escaped Ace’s nose. “Just lettin’ some thoughts escape, Baby Boy..you..us~ Remember when we met?” Tommy laughed softly. “’88. I’ll never forget it~” It had been a long time since they reminisced together…

~JUNE 1988~

Ace was in desperate search for a new direction. It had been a year since Stanley left him..and a mere month since Frehley’s Comet decided to part ways. The only friend he felt he had left was Petey-Cat. After the band’s separation Peter had let him into his world. For the next few months his life revolved around nothing but drugs, alcohol and sex. Eventually it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. 

~SEPTEMBER 1988~

“Heeeey Petey-Cat~!!” Ace drunkenly stumbled into Peter’s office while he was fucking Vinnie. Again. Peter slammed his fist against his desk in annoyance. “God fuckin’ dammit, Ace!! Can’t you knock?!” Ace giggled. “Yeeeeah I could..but it’s too much fun catchin’ ya off guard! Mind if I join~?” He winked at Vinnie who shot him a look of disgust. Peter was glaring daggers now. “I swear to fuckin’ Christ if you don’t get outta here..” 

“But I wanna know what you think about me ownin’ a casino!” 

“I think it’s another one of your ridiculous drunken fantasies.” 

“What if I cut you in for half? We could be partners!” 

“If you wanna talk business come back after you’ve sobered up.” 

“Ugh..yeeeeah fine..” 

Ace rolled his eyes when Vinnie’s moans resumed as he closed the door behind him. 

Later that night Peter’s bodyguard Bruce escorted him back. When he opened the door Peter was sitting at his desk, clearly in business mode. Vinnie was sitting on the edge of the desk with his legs crossed and holding a glass of wine. “Business talk, Baby Doll. Scoot.” Ace kept his eyes on Vinnie’s swaying hips as he walked past. “Mmm..how come you always get all the hot ones, Petey-Cat~?” Peter’s expression didn’t change. “Why don’t we focus here? Tell me about this ‘plan’ you’ve got.” Ace grinned and sat down in the chair. He started eyeing the open bottle of wine but Peter grabbed it and placed it on the floor next to his chair. “Don’t even think about it. Start talkin’.” 

“Well geez it’s nothin’ complicated. Just wanna bring a high-class gambling joint to my Bronx y’know? We find a nice big building, clean it up good, make it nice an’ flashy to draw in all the suckers..and we split it all right down the middle!” Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Do you even have any money left?” 

“Relax, will ya? I got enough to go halfsies on a building.”

“What about labor? Employees?” 

“Maybe you can spare some guys for that? Y’got plenty.”

“Fair enough. I’ll make some calls.”

“So we got a deal?”

“Listen to me, Ace. I’m only doin’ this as a favor to a friend. Cause I’m tired of you always lookin’ so pathetic. So don’t take advantage of my generosity. If I find out you’ve been cheatin’ me..and I will find out if you are..then you’ll be takin’ an involuntary nosedive off the Brooklyn Bridge. Am I makin’ myself clear?”

“Yep. Crystal.” 

~NOVEMBER 1988~

It had been a long arduous process but through combined efforts Ace’s dream was ready to become a reality. Construction was complete. Employees were hired. Advertisements were placed around town, in the newspapers and on tv. Towards the end of the month Wild Aces was officially open for business.

 Ace and Peter watched from the two-way mirror in the upstairs office as the doors opened and the people poured in. It was a pretty damn good out for an opening..and hopefully through them word would spread to other places outside of the Bronx. Peter was actually pretty impressed. Vinnie came in with a bottle of champagne. “It’s really crazy down there, baby~ I’d say your opening is a big success~” He opened the bottle and filled three glasses. “Oh yeah. Bruce says there’s some guy asking about a job. Really desperate too. He wants to know if he should throw him out.” Peter moved to go but Ace stopped him. “Lemme handle this, Petey-Cat. I gotta exercise some of my authority here too y’know.” 

At the bottom of the stairs Bruce was standing in the way of a guy with the curliest head of blond hair Ace had ever seen. His clothes looked pretty worn but other than that..he was actually quite a looker~ “C’mon! Just let me speak to someone in charge! All I wanna do is ask about a job!” Bruce was clearly losing his patience. “And I told you that you can’t come up here! Do I have to beat it into your head?” Ace cleared his throat loudly. “Ease up there, Brucie. Don’t go threatenin’ customers, hah? Is there something I can do for ya, kid?” 

“Mr. Frehley!” The guy pushed past Bruce to meet him halfway up the stairs. “I..I saw an ad for this place in the paper and I couldn’t believe it was you who owned it! I had to come see for myself!” He reached into his faded leather jacket and pulled out a tarnished medallion shaped like the Frehley’s Comet logo. “I’m a huge fan of your music and I..would love to have the opportunity to work here for you.” Ace frowned. That was the last thing he wanted to be reminded of right now. “You do know we broke up right? Months ago? The Ace you’re lookin’ for doesn’t exist anymore, kid. Try your luck somewhere else.” He went back upstairs without another word. He needed a fuckin’ drink.

Ace figured that would be the last he’d see of that blond poodle-haired kid. He was wrong. He would come around at least a couple of times a week hoping for another chance, and every time he would get turned down. It didn’t take long for Ace to notice he was wearing the same clothes every time. 

He was starting to feel like shit. 

When he didn’t come back the next week, Ace went out to look for him. For two hours he searched with no success. He was about to give up when he spotted that familiar head of hair out of the corner of his eye. He was leaning against the building across the street with his head bent low, playing and old beat up guitar for pocket change. 

Now he absolutely felt like shit. 

Ace made his way across the busy street to watch the kid play. The melody was definitely from a Frehley’s Comet song, he just couldn’t remember which one..or he didn’t want to remember. “Any change you can spare would be appreciated, sir..” the kid said without looking up. “I think I can do better than that for ya~” He immediately stopped playing. “Mr. Frehley..?” 

“Just call me Ace, kid. All that ‘Mr. Frehley’ stuff is makin’ me feel old~”

“I..I can’t do that! I respect you too much!” 

“Alright if that’s how you wanna play it~ What’s your name?”

“Tommy. Tommy Thayer.” 

“Why don’tca come back with me, Tommy? I think we need to have a talk~” 

~DECEMBER 1988~

Tommy had turned out to be a poor, struggling musician with no family and nowhere to call home. Ace couldn’t stand the thought him sleeping on the streets, especially during the winter. With all the money he’d made from the casino’s profits Ace was able to buy himself a fancy penthouse apartment, and he invited Tommy to stay in one of his guest bedrooms. “Make yourself at home, Tommy boy..my house is your house~ Now we just need to get you some nice lookin’ clothes and you can start your job~” On the verge of tears, Tommy threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Thank you..thank you so much! You have no idea how much this means to me!” 

“Heh..I think I’ve got an idea, kid~” 

“I’m..not really that much of a kid. I’m 27.”

“Well I’m 37..so that makes you a kid to me~” 

Tommy blushed. “S-sure..if you say so~” 

Things were going really well until Christmas drew closer. That was when Tommy noticed Ace growing more and more distant. On the 23rd he made an announcement to the employees that the casino would be closed until January 2nd. They were all equally as confused as Tommy. He didn’t think Ace would turn down the chance to make holiday profits. Something about this just didn’t feel right. When they returned to the apartment Ace silently went into his room and locked the door. He didn’t come out for the rest of the night. 

In the early hours of the morning the sounds of a guitar roused Tommy from his sleep. He pulled on his favorite pair of flannel pants and went to investigate. Ace was sitting on the couch playing. With the exception of a plucking few wrong chords, probably from being drunk or high, he sounded amazing. Knowing Frehley’s Comet’s discography inside and out Tommy instantly recognized the song. 

Rip it out, take my heart, You wanted it from the start You got it now, so goodbye, So rip it out, watch me cry 

He sounded so sad and broken, Tommy found himself crying. He desperately wanted to just run over to Ace and hug him. He wanted to hurt whoever was responsible for making his idol hurt so badly. The playing soon stopped when Ace was too upset to go on. To hell with it. He went into the living room and sat on the couch, wrapping his arms tightly around Ace’s shoulders. “I’m sorry..” 

“Heeeey Tommy booy~” Yep. Ace was definitely drunk. “Did I wake ya..? Ahhh ‘m sorry..but I’d get used to it. I fuckin’ hate the holidays..” Tommy looked up at him. “Why?” Ace leaned his head back and heaved a heavy sigh. “I had a boyfriend.. He was fuckin’ beautiful and I worshiped him. I met him when he came to one of our performances back in ‘85. He ended up fainting and I ended up fallin’ hard for him. We moved in together..we were plannin’ to get married...then it all went to shit. I’m sure he was fuckin’ cheatin’ on me but I never found out the truth. Last year he left me for some creepy rich asshole..right around Christmas time.. Holidays were fun for us y’know? Sure, he was Jewish and he didn’t do Christmas but he’d celebrate it anyway with me. For me. I never…fuckin’ understood what I did to make him not..love me anymore..!” Tommy hugged him even tighter as he cried. “No..it’s his own fault. He had something perfect and he let it slip away. Wherever he is..he’ll be miserable because he doesn’t have you.” Ace forced out a laugh. “Y-you’re sweet, kid..but look at me..I’m washed up. I’ve got nothin’ to offer anyone anymore..” 

“I am looking. All I see is someone I admire..someone I idolize in pain..and I just wanna help to make it stop..” He felt Ace’s hand press against his back. Those rough fingers felt good against his skin. The first kiss was brief and uneasy. The second, longer and more passionate. By the third, Tommy was on his back with Ace’s tongue exploring his mouth. Tommy shivered as Ace’s hand slowly worked its way into his pants. 

“If you want me to stop…” 

“Don’t..I need you, Ace..please..”

~PRESENT DAY~

Wait..THAT fuckin’ happened? Why don’t I remember?!” 

“You were probably too drunk to remember..” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tommy stared out at the city skyline. “I was too embarrassed..and I didn’t want you to regret it..” Ace wrapped his arm around Tommy’s waist and pulled him close. “I don’t regret anything between us..not now..not ever~” They shared a soft kiss and a tight, loving embrace. 

“I love you..my Space Ace~” 

“Love ya too, Tommybear~” 

~END~

[thelastspeecher]

Been talking a lot about Emmett lately, and I was inspired today to write something starring everyone’s favorite twelve-toed nervous boy.  So, here’s Emmett in the Superhero/villain AU, accidentally using his powers to control his dad.

              “Emmett.”  Emmett looked up from his comic book.  His dad stood in front of him, visibly furious.  He swallowed nervously and set the comic book down.

              “Hi, Dad.”

              “Wanna tell me why you weren’t at boxing?” Stan demanded.

              “I was,” Emmett lied.

              “Then how come when I stopped by to surprise you and your sister, you weren’t there?”

              “I left early.”

              “I showed up early,” Stan said, crossing his arms.  Emmett looked away.  “You gotta stop skipping, kid.”

              “I don’t like it,” Emmett mumbled.  Stan let out a sigh and sat next to Emmett on the couch.

              “I know.  And that’s fine.  Your Uncle Ford didn’t like it, either.  Neither did I, when I started.”

              “Wait, really?” Emmett asked.  Stan nodded.

              “I hated it.  But my dad kept making me go.  It was the only good thing he ever did for me.  I had to learn how to protect myself and Ford.”

              “I don’t want to go.”

              “You need to learn some self-defense skills.”

              “You never made Danny or Daisy learn how to protect themselves.”

              “They didn’t get picked on as much as you and Emily.”

              “I don’t get picked on.”

              “You came home from school with a black eye last week.”  Stan sighed. “Your ma and I made complaints and everything, but schools don’t like stopping bullies.  That’s why you need to learn how to do it yourself.”

              “I already do ballet-” Emmett started.

              “And that’s good.  I’m proud of you,” Stan said.  “Ballet is tough.”  He put a hand on Emmett’s shoulder.  “But it’s not gonna do squat to protect you.  What are you gonna do if someone comes after you or Emily?  A fancy jump?  Some sorta twirl?”

              “Dad, I’m not gonna go anymore,” Emmett said firmly.  Stan scowled at him.  “I mean it. I don’t care how much you look at me with that face.”

              “And I don’t care that you don’t want to.  It’s for your own good.”

              “Dad-”

              “When you were five, and you hated broccoli, do you think I let you not eat it, just ‘cause you didn’t like it?  No. I made sure you cleaned your plate. This is the same thing,” Stan said. Emmett jumped to his feet.

              “You can’t make me go!” Emmett yelled.  Stan slowly stood.

              “Don’t take that tone with me.”

              “Even if you keep signin’ me up, I’ll keep skippin’.  Even if ya drop me off, I’ll leave.  I don’t want to do it anymore!  It’s- you might think it’s good to force me to do something I don’t like, but it’s not!  I hate it!”

              “Emmett-”

              “Do you really wanna do something Grandpa did?” Emmett asked.  Stan’s face went red.

              “That’s it!” Stan rumbled.  Emmett froze. “Go to your room.  Now.”

              “But-”

              “Now,” Stan growled.  “I’ll figure out your punishment for talking to me like that later.”  Emmett stormed off.  He passed Emily on the stairs.  She didn’t bother to pretend she hadn’t been eavesdropping.

              “Emmett, that was bad,” she whispered.

              “I know.  He needs to stop makin’ me go to those stupid lessons.”

              “No, not-”  Emily grimaced.  “You know how much Dad hates Grandpa.  Why’d you compare Dad to him?”

              “Yeah, well, he should stop doin’ stuff that Grandpa did,” Emmett muttered.

              “I can hear you,” Stan said loudly.  “Emmett, go to your room.  Emily, go…weed the garden or somethin’.  Do some chores.”

              “Okay, Dad.”  Emily glanced at Emmett warningly before heading downstairs.  Emmett stuffed his hands in his pockets and finished going to his room. He slammed the door shut.

              “Don’t slam doors!” Stan shouted from downstairs.

              “Ugh!”  Emmett threw himself onto his bed, burying his face into his pillows.

              I hate this.  I hate it.  I just wish Dad would throw himself off the tallest building he could find.

              A door downstairs opened and closed.

----- 

              “Emmett Stanley McGucket!”  Emmett jerked instinctively at the sound of his full name being shouted from downstairs. The movement left a large streak across the math sheet he had been working on.

              “Great,” he muttered.  “Ma’s home.”

              Dad definitely told her what happened.  Now I get to hear the second part of the riot act.

              “Emmett!  Get down here!  Now!” Angie yelled.  Emmett reluctantly shuffled out of his room and down to the first floor.

              “Ford, hold him down,” a voice said.  Emmett paused at the foot of the stairs.

              Uncle Lute?

              “I am holding him down,” a second voice snapped.  “At least we finally got the dampeners on him.”

              Uncle Ford, too?  There was a crash from the kitchen.  What’s goin’ on?

              “Where is that boy?” Lute’s voice asked.

              “I don’t-”  Angie stormed out of the kitchen.  She was still in her villainy duds, but had removed her cowl.  She spotted Emmett by the stairs.  “Emmett.  Come here.” Emmett felt a gust of wind push him towards the kitchen.

              “You’re not gonna let me go on my own?” Emmett asked.  Angie scowled.

              “I’m not takin’ any chances.”

              “Ma, I know that I skipped, and you’re angry,” Emmett started, following her into the kitchen.  “But-” He froze.  Lute and Ford were struggling to hold Stan down on the ground. His uncles had clearly been fighting to restrain Stan for quite some time; both their clothes were singed, and Ford had a bruise beginning to form on his cheek.  “Wha- what happened?”

              “You tell me,” Angie snapped.  “What command did you give yer father this time?”

              “Command?  I-” Emmett’s blood ran cold.  He stepped a bit closer to look at his father’s eyes.  His pupils were dilated, the sure sign that he had been commanded by Emmett.  Emmett swallowed.  “I- I didn’t mean-”

              “I saw him runnin’ ‘round town,” Lute said.  “He seemed a bit off, so I got a closer look and saw his eyes.  Knew right then it was yer handiwork, Emmett.”  Emmett covered his mouth.  “What?”

              “I wanted him to jump off the tallest building he could find,” Emmett whispered.  “I was just- I was angry at him, I-”

              “Yes, yes, this is important information,” Ford interjected.  He narrowly avoided another punch from Stan. “But I think it can wait until after you free Stan from your command.”

              “I don’t know how.”

              “That’s not an option right now,” Angie said firmly.  Emmett looked at his mom.  “Fix it.”

----- 

              It took fifteen minutes for Emmett to reverse the command, upon which he was promptly sent to the living room, so that the adults could discuss what they were going to do.  Ten minutes after that, Emmett got called to the kitchen again.  He joined his parents at the table, not making eye contact with either of them.

              “Uncle Ford and Uncle Lute are gone?” he asked quietly.

              “Yes,” Angie said.  She clasped her hands.  “Emmett…”

              “I didn’t mean to!” Emmett wailed.

              “Hey, hey,” Stan said, reaching a hand out to Emmett.  “It’s okay, kiddo.”

              “No, it’s not.  I- I was mad and I- I wanted you to jump off a building and-”

              “Why weren’t you wearing the power dampeners?” Stan asked.

              “I couldn’t find ‘em.”

              “Yeah, you’re pretty good at losing them.”

              “I’m so sorry, Dad!  I didn’t want you to get hurt!  I just have mean thoughts sometimes.”

              “Everybody does,” Angie said softly.  She let out a sigh.  “But yer thoughts are awful powerful, honey.”

              “I didn’t mean to!” Emmett repeated.

              “It’s okay, sport.”  Stan grinned, but it was clearly forced.  “It’s kinda my fault, anyways.  You got my silver tongue.”  Emmett looked away.

              “Now’s not the time, Stanley,” Angie said quietly.  Stan sighed.

              “Right.”

              “Emmett, yer goin’ to be punished,” Angie said.  Emmett nodded.  “But we’re goin’ to take the fact that it was an accident into consideration.”

              “It’d be better if I didn’t have any powers at all,” Emmett mumbled.

              “Don’t say that,” Stan said.  “Yeah, yours are a bit tough.  But we’ll figure it out.”

              “If you say so.”

              “And in the meantime…”  Stan looked at Angie.  She nodded. “We’re gonna make you switch schools.” Emmett gaped at Stan.

              “What?”

              “The school yer at right now isn’t equipped to handle someone with yer abilities,” Angie said.  “That wouldn’t be a problem, except that ya keep losin’ the dampeners.”

              “I don’t-”

              “I know ya don’t mean to.  But after today, we have to start makin’ decisions ‘bout what’s best fer you and everyone around you.  So we’ll be sendin’ ya to Sycamore Grove.”

              “Wh- the high school for villains?” Emmett squeaked.  Angie and Stan nodded.

              “I’m not happy about it,” Stan said quietly.  “But it’s what needs to happen.  The teachers there are used to students with powers like yours.”

              “It’ll be fine, sweetie,” Angie said gently.  Emmett hung his head.

              “If you say so.”

              “I do have some good news for you,” Stan said.

              “What?”

              “We’re gonna pull you out of boxing lessons.”  Emmett’s head whipped up.  He stared.  “I still think it’s good for you.  But you’re already dealing with stuff, and being forced to do somethin’ you hate isn’t gonna help.”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  “I know that from experience.”  Emmett nodded.  “Go to your room while we talk about your punishment.”  Stan looked around the kitchen.  There were a few scorch marks on the walls and floor, and a chair had broken. “And while we clean up.  Man, I made a mess.”

              “Pretty sure it’s technically my mess,” Emmett said.  Stan rolled his eyes.

              “C’mon, kid.  How many times do I have to tell you – if you can get outta being blamed for something, take it!  Even if it’s technically your fault.”  Emmett quirked a small grin.  “Now, go to your room.  We’ll come get you in a bit.”

[itsmalachitenow]

Fire and Ice; a Stan x Rosalyn Fic

Dark skies. Pouring rain. A cold, howling wind that bent the trees and scattered debris.

This was the setting of the Great Hero Rosalyn’s latest battle: A violent, valiant attempt against corruption, ultimately cumulating in the triumph of justice itself. The ghosts terrorizing Tenel had been slain, the route to Madril was out of harm’s way, and the day was saved.

This was a terrible idea.

Rosalyn staggered along the side of the road. A string of battles like this would’ve been hard enough on her body under normal circumstances. But with the storm going on around her, not even her umbrella was protection enough against the elements. Her breathing was labored, her tread was slow, and her eyes were squinted against the rain.

The others had warned her about going out in weather like this. She, on the other hand, boasted that justice did not stop just because the weather was bad. “A Great Hero must fight evil, rain or shine! Besides, it’s not even that bad out there. Just a drizzle, really!”

Now, with a fever burning in her skull and her clothes plastered to her body with rain and sweat, the Great Hero was beginning to regret her bravado. But it would be fine; just a little farther back to Tenel, and she could rest. Everything was going to be-

“Augh!”

She tripped over her own feet and stumbled, hitting the ground hard. Her parasol landed beside her in the mud. She tried to stand, and found she didn’t have the strength to. I might be in real trouble here, thought Rosalyn, but the thought was distant and echoing, like the last splash a skipped rock makes against the water as it sinks. And she was sinking now; as the hero stared dully at the gray skies above, she felt the mud pulling her further down.

Or, maybe it was just the fever making her see things. She didn’t know. It didn’t seem that important. All that Rosalyn wanted to do now was close her eyes for a little while. Surely that would help—yes, she could rest here and make the rest of the trip as soon as she was feeling better. With any luck, the rain will have stopped by then.

Just for a little while. Let me rest.

She closed her eyes…

“…syn…”

Off in the distance, someone was calling.

“….salyn…!”

The Great Hero made a face. She didn’t like this voice, though at the moment, she couldn’t quite remember why.

“Rosalyn!”

“Ugh…” She grumbled, letting her eyes squint open. A pair of black pants and dark boots was standing in front of her. Before she could get a better look, she was being scooped up into a pair of strong arms. Her eyes shot open and she began to struggle. “Hey--!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Hold still, you cow! It’s hard enough trying to get you out of that mud as is!” The Great Evil King Stanley Hihat Trinidad XIV was scowling at her. Now she remembered why she disliked this voice so much.

“Put me down,” she mumbled, attempting to shove at him. But he just tightened his grip and began walking towards Tenel.

“Be quiet. It looks like you have a fat head as well as thighs, deciding to go out and fight in this storm. What the hell were you thinking?”

“…was doing my job,” was all Rosalyn could manage. She glared weakly up at the Evil King carrying her. “At least I can think things through…cheap parlor trick…”

“For once in your life, will you shut up?” growled Stan. “Here I am, risking my evil reputation to save your puny life, and all you do is try to fight me!”

“…pffff…” Even in her fevered state, Rosalyn let out a faint, breathy laugh. “…what reputation?”

“Well, at least we know you’re not dying. You can still kill a joke just by telling it.” Stan kicked a rock in the road and continued his stride. “Just…close your eyes. Try to rest. I know it’s hard for you to process anything that isn’t your next meal, but try.”

“Fuck you, too.” Rosalyn did close her eyes, but not because Stan was telling her to. The Evil King’s arms were warmer than the mud, and the exhaustion of a day of fighting was getting its second wind in the battle against her consciousness.

She drifted off to sleep.

--

SNORT.

Rosalyn jolted awake in a cold sweat, looking around wildly for the noise. She was in a bed, with the covers pulled over her and the damp cloth on her forehead hitting the ground with a thwap.

…and there beside her was Stan, slumped in a chair and snoring away.

She stared at the sleeping Great Evil King; even in her fevered state, she could see a trail of drool sliding down his cheek.

“Charming,” she muttered.

“Bwah!” Now it was Stan’s turn to jerk awake, nearly falling out of the chair. His eyes were wide as he spoke. “What happened? Is she dead? I…”

But as they fell on Rosalyn, they narrowed. “…oh. You’re awake.”

“What’s going on?” demanded the hero. “Where am I? And where are…” Rosalyn blinked, a thought occurring to her. She slid back the covers and her fears were confirmed. “Where are my clothes?!”

It wasn’t like she was naked; she had a large black shirt on, and a pair of boxer shorts. But she hadn’t undressed herself—someone had stripped her down and washed the mud away. Rosalyn pulled the blanket up to her chest, wide-eyed and furious. “You—you fiend! How dare you undress a lady when she’s uncon-”

“Oh, please.” Stan straightened himself up. If she wasn’t mistaken, he looked almost offended. “As if I’d stoop so low! We’re in Ari’s house—his mother and sister scrubbed you down and got you into some clean clothes.”

The hero was taken aback. A second glance around the room confirmed that yes, this was Ari’s house. His bedroom, in fact. “…oh…but…these are way too big for Ari. Even his dad wouldn’t fit in a shirt this big. Whose clothes are these?”

Stan’s ears flattened, and he looked off to the side. “…they’re mine.”

“Oh.” Rosalyn was flustered. What were you supposed to say when you were lying in bed sick, dressed in the clothes of your most hated rival?

It seemed she wasn’t the only one feeling awkward; Stan cleared his throat and stood from his chair. “I should go.”

“Hold on.” The outburst of energy she had was draining rapidly—she could feel the fever settling back over her. But there was something she had to know before Stan left. “…why did you save me?”

“What?” Stan looked at her like she had sprouted wings. “You’re delirious, woman. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes I do.” Even propped against her pillows, Rosalyn managed to glower at him. “That’s what you did. You said so yourself earlier—you were risking your reputation to get me home alive. Why?”

Stan opened his mouth to answer her. Then he closed it again. It went on like that for a few seconds—open, close, open, close, gesture wildly, like he couldn’t find the right words to say. To Rosalyn, he almost looked like one of the puppets the travelling entertainers used in their shows whenever they came to Madril.

Finally, the Great Evil King’s expression settled into a scowl. “…are you serious?” He turned his head away from her, crossing his arms. “You could have died out there. Not even in a proper fight, but to some stupid storm.”

Stan looked at her from the corner of his eye, and his voice dropped to a murmur. “…and then where would I be?”

“What?” Now it was Rosalyn’s turn to look shocked.

Her response only seemed to infuriate him. He rounded on her, eyes blazing. “You’re mine! You’re my rival! Nobody else is allowed to kill you but me, Rosalyn! Not a storm, not ghosts, not Beiloune, not ANYBODY!”

Stan was panting. “…and I’m not about to let them. Not now. Not ever. …that’s ‘what.’” His expression was a mixture of anger and…something she couldn’t place. Pain? Jealousy? Worry?

Was the Great Evil King worried about her?

Was she hallucinating? Was the fever still making her see things? Rosalyn couldn’t seem to form a response. The heat of the sickness was making it hard to move or think. “…I…”

Stan rubbed his forehead, letting out a frustrated growl. “Ugh. I need to leave—Ari’s mother will be thrilled that you aren’t dead, and she can bring you something to eat.” He strode towards the door.

“…wait.”

The Great Evil King, who had never before heeded the loudest of yells and pleas for mercy, was stopped in his tracks by the weakest of whispers.

“…don’t go…”

He turned back to the bed. Rosalyn stared through half-lidded eyes, her trembling hand outstretched for him. “…don’t go. I don’t…want to be alone.”

For a moment, Stan did nothing. Then, the floorboards creaking under his boots, he walked back over to the bedside and sat down. Her hand shot out and grabbed clumsily for his. He let her take it, eyes widening in surprise as she gripped it.

“I hate this,” she muttered. “The one person nearby, and it’s the one I swore to kill someday.”

“Frigid as usual.” Stan got a smirk, his large hand closing around hers and stroking it with his thumb. “How can someone so cold have hands this warm?”

“Heh. Maybe it’s the fever, genius.” Rosalyn got a dry grin, before sneezing heavily and covering her mouth with her other hand.

“Ugh.” Stan wrinkled his nose. “That’s just disgusting. You’d better be grateful I pulled you out of that mud.”

She laughed again, softer this time. Her eyes slid closed and she breathed out a sigh. “…my hero.”

The pair of them stayed that way for a while; Rosalyn slowly falling back into slumber, and Stan at her side, holding her hand as she drifted.

When she was finally resting easy, Stan let go of her hand. He could leave now; she would be asleep for a few hours, at the very least. Yet, he found himself sitting there and continuing to watch her. The way her chest rose and fell with her breathing, the way her eyes moved beneath their eyelids…

Not really knowing why, he reached over and brushed a strand of wet hair out of Rosalyn’s face with his thumb. This was all new territory for him. Really, if it were anyone else, he would have been irritated.

…but, it was strange. With her, he didn’t mind at all.

[faithambr]

Waves #VegasStrong!

(Author’s Note: So my original plan was to write this story based on Anna’s emotions in church, but after what had happened on October 1st, 2017 where a man had killed 58 people and wounded many more. I was going to post this during Kristanna week, but life got in the way. So after hearing the Golden Knights play in the Stanley Cup, I’ve decided to finish this and post it. Yeah sure there isn’t even a mention of the Golden Knights here, but that team has been there for our community since the tragedy of 1 October. Plus this story is based on that day I personally went to the hospital to donate. “Oceans/ You Make Me Brave” by Caleb and Kesley. I played that song for the entire day. Thank you for reading this note and enjoy reading the story. End Note: Photos on the left are mine and the ones on the left and middle were from Facebook.)

Previous prompt based on this tragedy

“Mom,” Laura said as she waited patiently at the front door, “when are we gonna go grocery shopping?”

“Just a minute.” Anna breathed as she jotted down the grocery list onto the notepad.

“Mommy!” a voice echoed down the hallway. “James took my doll!”

“James!” Anna replied while she placed the list in her purse. “Give Antonia her doll back.”

“Okay.” James replied.

“Now please get ready!” Anna had sighed as she stood alongside with Laura.

“Yes, Mommy!”

It took the family about 20 minutes for them to head to the 99 cent store. While they were heading that way, Laura made the suggestion to buy stuff that they could donate to one of the police stations nearby. Anna agreed and then told her to write down a list of things that they could donate.

“Mom,” Laura began just as her mother had parked the family van, “so I am taking Elizabeth and Antonia with me?”

 “Yes.” 

“Okay.” Laura sighed just as everyone else was getting out of the van.

“Alright kids,” Anna called to her children surrounding her, “Charlie, Robbie, and James are with me. Elizabeth and Antonia, you’re with Laura.”

“Okay.” Antonia giggled as she held onto Laura’s hand. “C’mon Laura, let’s go.”

“Hold on Missy.” Anna warned Antonia.

“But Mommy.”

“No but’s.”

“Mommy,” James pulled on her arm for attention, “can I sit in the cart?”

“Honey, you’re too big to ride in it.” Anna stated as she locked up the van. 

“Ahh.” James hung his head low, as he began to walk with his family. 

Once they all had gotten to the entrance of the store, Anna handed Laura the list of donations that they were going to buy.

“Now make sure that you get everything on that list.” Anna reminds her daughters as they parted ways.

“We will Mommy.” Elizabeth had answered for them. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Okay.” Anna smiled at her three girls.

“Alright now can we go?” Laura stated.

“Yes, you may.” Anna answered while Laura and her sisters went on their way down the aisles.

“So Mom,” Charlie folded his arms against his chest, “what do we need to get?”

“We need some milk, cereal, and some snacks.” Anna pulled out the grocery list from her purse.

“Oh.”

Sure enough, the Bjorman family was on off buying things from the 99 cent store. Anna was making sure that the boys were listening to her directions, while Laura was busy corraling her two sisters away from the all of the toys in the toy aisle. She knew that it was tough to be the oldest out of her family, yet she was willing to put up with her brothers and sisters, only because she loves them no matter what. After shopping around for the things that they needed, they all met at the checkout station, ready to go home and get some extra sleep. 

“Mommy, look at what we got!” Antonia smiled as they all met up at the checkout station.

“Cool baby.” Anna smiled, while waiting in line.

“We got some blankets, snack bars,” Antonia began to name off the items in the cart, “rmane noodles, toilet paper, Laura’s tampons...”

“Antonia!” Laura covered her sister’s mouth while feeling her own blush creep up her neck.

“It’s alright.” Anna tried her best not to giggle in front of her family.

“Thanks Mom.” Laura blushed.

“You’re welcom.”

“Hi there,” the cashier smiled, just as the family began to place the items onto the counter, “did you find everything alright?”

“Yes.” Anna answered while fumbling through her purse to find her wallet. 

“Alright,” the cashier finished up with the last transaction, “you’re total is going to be $56.36.”

Anna smiled at the cashier while she swiped her card on the machine. 

“Have a good night.” the cashier called out, just as Anna and her kids were heading out the door with their carts in tow.

“You too.” Anna replied while trying to maintain the kids.

“Mom,” Robbie asked as they got near the van, “can I play video games tonight?”

“No.” Anna ahd answered firmly, making Robbie to be a bit annoyed.

“Why?”

“Cause I said so,” Anna remained firm at her word, “and it’s getting late. Plus Dad needs his sleep. You got it?”

“Yes Mom.” Robbie shrugged his shoulders as everyone was getting the groceries into the van.

After everyone had gotten into the van, Anna simply smiled at her children saying that she was happy to see them all on their best behavior.

“Thanks for taking us Mom.” Laura smiled, making mother smile even more. 

“You’re welcome.” Anna sighed as she began to back the van out of the parking space.

Anna was sure glad that she was able to spend time with her children. However, she hopes and prays that she would continue on spending time with her family. 

*Ring*

*Ring* 

*Ring*

“Ugh.” Kristoff grumbled as he turned on over to face his alarm clock. He couldn’t even believe that he had to be up for yet another twelve hour shift. He knew that the massacre had happened that Sunday night, he would have to work long hours, with only few breaks in between. So far the breaks that he got were used mostly to sleep and reenergize for the next shift.

“Hmm...” he could hear his wife stir in her sleep.

“Just about two hours ago, Anna had gotten home after taking the kids to get some groceries at the store. Now here she is, sleeping in their bed. Oh how he just wanted to stay there, hold her, kiss her hair, and never let her go.

Yet he has to go. He has to go and do his job.

“I love you.” Kristoff kissed his wife’s forehead, just before he got out of bed to start his day.

“Good morning Mommy!” both James and Antonia had squealed out as they climbed on to the bed.

“Oh good morning.” Anna yawned as she sat up on her bed. “Why are you two up so early?”

“Laura told us to wake you up?” James rolled his eyes.

“I see.” Anna stated.

“Now I’m hungry.” James mumbled with his stomach growling.

“Alright you two go and bug your sister for breakfast.” Anna teased, making James grin from ear to ear.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Anna winked.

“Okay,” James exclaimed as he scrambled on off the bed with Antonia in tow, “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, too.” Anna smiled as she stretched her arms out while in bed.

“Hey Laura!” she could hear her son shout out from the hallway. “Mommy said that you have to make me breakfast!”

“Ugh!” Laura called out from the kitchen. “Mom, is this true?”

Oh James. Anna thought as she was busy petting herself ready for the day. You and your silly little antics.

“Yes,” James stated proudly as he sat at the kitchen table, “Mommy said so.”

“Really?” Laura rolled her eyes as she poured her brother some milk and cereal.

“Yep.” James nodded, just before he saw their mother standing at the doorway.

“Oh really?” Anna quirks an eyebrow at him. “I don’t remember telling you to tell Laura to make you breakfast.”

James’ face flushed with embarrassment.

“Seriously James!?!” Laura began to look annoyed with her little brother.

“I was hungry.” James argued.

“Well you could’ve asked.” Laura countered back as she stopped pouring the milk into his cereal.

“And?” James protested.

“And then Laura would’ve made you a nice bowl of cereal.” Anna finished the argument between the two. “Now you two eat breakfast and get yourself ready for the day.”

“Yes Mom.” they both chanted back while she went onto making herself a cup of coffee.

“And if you two continue on arguing about this,” Anna warned, “you both will be grounded. Got it?”

They both nodded at her warning.

“Great,” Anna smiled as she walked past Laura with her coffee mug in one hand, “now is everyone else ready for the day, today?”

“I think so.” Laura answered.

“Alright.” Anna took a sip of her coffee with a smile. 

As Anna was enjoying her cup of coffee, she couldn’t help but notice how her life has gradually changed within the past few days. Her husband’s past homecomings have been few and far between, mostly because of his job. However, whenever he did come home, it was mostly for him to catch up on his sleep. Since now that her husband was busy doing his job, Laura had no choice but to step up to the plate and help her mother in any way she had to. She smiled at the thought of her husband coming, to actually spend time with their family and not have to sleep during that time. Her body was aching for his touch, his lips caressing over her own, and all she is wanting for him to come home.

“Mom,” a voice had snapped her out of her dream, “are you doing okay?”

“Oh,” Anna blinked several times, “ah sorry.”

“Ya Mom,” Laura whispered in Anna’s ear, “you zoned out, almost like you were gonna give Dad the bedroom eyes.”

“Oops.” Anna blushed crimson.

“It’s okay, Mom.” Laura smiled. “I know that you miss him.”

Anna gave her daughter a grateful look.

“Just finish up your coffee.” Laura added as she handed her mother a chocolate muffin. “Oh and here’s your breakfast.”

An hour later 

She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe that her children were having a wonderful time, singing along to Veggietales being played on the van’s loudspeakers. She wasn’t even expecting her kids to be on their best behavior while she was driving. I guess that they may have actually listened for once. she thought.

“So Mom, can I go and hang out with Savannah tonight?” Elizabeth called out from the back of the van. 

“No,” Anna reminded her while keeping an eye on the road, “it’s a school night and you need to finish up your homework.”

“Okay.”

“Mommy,” James had called out from his car seat, “how much longer?”

“About fifteen more minutes, James.” Anna breathed while trying to keep her eye on the road.

“Okay.” James smiled as he looked out the window. “Mommy, can you play the Oceans song?”

“Yes I can.” Anna pressed the button on the radio to play the song.

“ You call me out upon the waters The great unknown where feet may fail And there I find you in the mystery In oceans deep my faith will stand “

Anna began to feel a wave of emotions within her heart, as she exited the freeway. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t drive on the freeway while looking at the strip out in the distance. She didn’t want to take a look at the valley ahead, without having to tear up. Yet she had to. She had to drive her kids to the destination up ahead. She had to be the strong one in th family. She had to make sure that the kids were going to have a great time, even if all they were doing was donating food and water to one of the local hospitals in the area. 

She wants to teach the kids the importance of a community coming together, during a time of great need. However, she wanted to teach her children that they should always donate, volunteer, and at least do something to help the less fortunate. Therefore, she hopes that her children would learn from this experience and remember it for the rest of their lives.

 “ And I will call upon your name And keep my eyes above the waves When oceans rise, my soul will rest in your embrace For I am yours And you are mine”

Her emotions ran higher than she expected, as she exited the freeway onto Las Vegas Blvd. She gripped the steering wheel as she thought about the concertgoers that won’t be coming back alive. Instead, they’ll be heading home with their loved ones carrying them in pieces. She figures that some of the family members may carry them on flights back home, while others may stay and remember them for who they were.

“ Your grace abounds in deepest waters Your sovereign hand will be my guide Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me You've never failed and you won't start now “

She cringed at the thought of the evilness behind it all; she knew that the man behind it all was nothing but pure evil. Him killing innocent people and ruining countless lives was nothing but pure evil. His plans were definitely well thought out and yet no one would ever know the true reason why he did that.

“As your love, in wave after wave Crashes over me, crashes over me For you are for us You are not against us Champion of heaven, you made a way for all to enter in”

As they turned right onto Las Vegas Blvd, Anna could feel her tears forming. Keep it together, Anna. she thought. You can do this. Just be brave for the kids. She knew that she had to be brave for her kids on the outside, yet she was about to crumble on the inside. She didn’t want to show her emotions, only because she wanted her kids to know that the world would be a safe place. However that all changed once they had all gotten close to the tragedy. 

“Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders Let me walk upon the waters Wherever you would call me Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander And my faith will be made stronger In the presence my saviour (you make me brave)”

“Mom” a gentle squeeze on Anna’s forearm was all that took for her wall to crack and crumble. She openly cried over it all. She couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t hide the pain, anger, and frustration that was building up inside. She couldn’t be the strong one for her family; she had to be the weak one. She has to show her emotions in front of her children. She has to show that it’s okay to be hurt and afraid of the unknown. 

“Mom.” a voice had echoed through her ears and into her heart. “It’s going to be okay.”

As Anna turned her head to face Laura, she could see tears streaming down her daughter’s cheeks. She gave her daughter a teary eyed smile as she continued on driving down past the “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign.

“I know.” Anna whispers to Laura. “I know.... I just..... I can’t believe that it happened.”

“Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders (you make me brave)

You call me out beyond the shore into the waves

You make me brave

You make me brave

No fear can hinder now the promise’s you made.”

She felt like time had stood still, once they had stopped at the intersection of Russell and Las Vegas Blvd. She could see news stations, from all over the world, parked along the streets with their gear ready to go. She knew that this tragedy was making headlines, but she didn’t expect the news to spread like wildfire. She cried softly over the thought of Kristoff being there during that time and how he had to save lives, with the risks of putting himself in harm’s way.

“Mommy.” Antonia cries out from her car seat. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Daddy is busy right now.” Laura had answered, knowing that her own mother wasn’t able to. “Remember he’s a police officer. He has a job to do.”

“Oh.”  Antonia sniffles a bit. “I miss Daddy.”

“I do too.” Laura had tried her best to smile. “But he’ll be home soon.”

“I want Daddy!” Antonia wails, making Anna’s own heart shatter into pieces.

“I know.” Laura cooed, trying her best to calm her baby sister down.

“My soul will rest in your embrace.

For I am yours

And you are mine.”

“Daddy will be home soon.” Anna had finally managed to choke out as she turned onto Russell. “Daddy will be home.”

It took both Anna and the kids about an hour to get to the UMC Trauma hospital. At first Anna was planning on driving to Sunrise hospital, but then that all changed when a nurse told her that they couldn’t take anymore donations. So then Anna went back to the van and drove on off to UMC hospital. However, the GPS on her phone took her somewhere else. Finally after doing some redirection on her phone, Anna was able to figure out how to get to the hospital.

“Alright kids,” Anna cheers as she continued on driving down the right direction, “are you ready to go out and donate some stuff today?”

“Yes!” both Elizabeth and Robbie had chanted while everyone else was napping in their seats.

“Good.” Anna smiles brightly while she was keeping an eye on the road.

“Mom,” Elizabeth asked, “how much longer?”

“Not very long.” Anna reassures Elizabeth as they had gotten close to their destination.

“Yay!” she could hear her daughter cheer.

She knew that Elizabeth couldn’t wait to donate all of the stuff that they had bought the night before. She also knew that they would have an amazing time with her. She just wishes that Kristoff could be there with them.

“Hey Mommy!” Robbie had called out as he pointed at his window. “I think that I see Daddy!”

“Oh honey,” Anna’s smile had faltered a bit as she pulled into UMC, “that’s not Daddy isn’t working at the hospital today.”

“Where’s Daddy at then?” Robbie gave her a sorrowful look.

“I don’t know baby.”

“Is he gonna be home soon?”

“Yes.” Anna breathes just as she saw a blonde mop of hair walk on by.

That can’t be him. she thought. There’s no way.

“Mom,” Laura snaps her mother back into reality, “where are we going to park?”

“Hmm....” Anna bit her lip as she drove around the parking lot. “I’m not sure.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth had pointed out the window to a parking lot, “how about over there?”

“Where Elizabeth?” Anna squints her eyes against the sunlight.

“By the trees, Mommy.” Elizabeth had insisted as she continued on tapping the glass. “Over there.”

“Okay sweetie.” Anna sighs as she went straight into that direction.

“Mom,” Charlie began as Anna was pulling into a parking spot, “where are we gonna donate all of this stuff.”

“To the hospital silly,” Robbie had answered for their mother, “remember, Charlie?”

“Oh.”

“Yep.” Anna winks just as she parked the van into the parking spot. “Alrighty, so here’s what we’re going to do right now; Mom is going to find out where we can drop off our donations, while you guys wait here.”

“Okay.” they all had chimed in as she got out of the van and went on her way.

It took Anna bout five minutes for her to find a person in-charge, to ask where she could drop off her donations.

“Just drop it off at the United Blood Service station over there.” the woman had pointed Anna to that direction.

“Okay thank you.” Anna yells back as she rushes on back to the family van. “God bless you! Have a great day!”

“You too!” the woman waves as Anna had made it on back to the van.

“Okay kids,” Anna huffs as she pulled open the back doors to the van, “get on out here and help me carry all of this stuff.”

“Okay.” they all had stated while they were hurrying on out the van.

One-by-one, all of the kids were given a donation item to carry. Laura was in charge of carrying a small case of water, while Elizabeth was holding onto some cereal boxes for the kids to eat. Both Charlie and Robbie were in charge of carrying bags of canned goods (like soup), while the twins were carrying small bags of small blankets for the people to use for comfort.

“So where are we going exactly?” Laura gave her mother a confused look as they walked across the street.

“You see that truck?” Anna pointed out at the truck up ahead. “That’s where we’re heading.”

“Cool.” Antonia smiles, her own eyes filled with excitement. “I can’t wait to help out people.”

“Me too.” James had stated proudly as he walked with his twins hand-in-hand.

“Oh my,” a young woman had clapped her hands cheerfully, once both James and Antonia had reached the donation station, “what do we have here?”

“Donations.” Antonia had answered shyly, while the rest of the family had shown up. “Mommy bought some stuff to donate . My twin brother and I have blankets.”

“Oh my goodness,” the young woman had knelt down to their eye level, “you did get some blankets.k People sure do love blankets.”

“Yep.” James nods while the lady took their blankets and set it on a table nearby.

“Hi there,” Anna smiled at the young woman, “we have more stuff that we would like to donate.”

“Awesome.” the lady smiled brightly as the children were handing over the donations to the volunteers. “You guys are so awesome. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” Laura smiles warmly.

As the Bjorman family was helping out with the donations, the young woman began to ask some questions.

“So do you guys live here?” the woman asked Anna.

“Well,” Anna answers, “we’ve been living in Henderson for about seven years.”

“Oh.”

“The kids love it here.” Anna sighs.

“I see.”

“Mommy,” Robbie tugs at her arm, “I wanna go.”

“Not yet.” Anna gave him a look.

“Okay.” Robbie sighed.

“Hey Mom,” Charlie calls out from outside the donation tent, “there’s a guy holding a sign offering free hugs and prayers.”

“Cool.”

“Can I go and talk to him, Mom?” Charlie had asked.

“Go for it.” Anna smiled as she watched her boy go and talk to the man.

“I wanna go, too.” Robbie pouts up at his mother. “I wanna go and say a pray for Dad.”

“Hmm....” Anna looked around at her other children. “How about this, we all go and say a prayer for Dad, okay?”

Sure enough, Anna had quickly escorted everyone else to the man with the sign nearby.

“Hi there,” the man quickly gave all of the kids a high-five, “what can I do for you today?”

“Can we pray with you?” Charlie asks.

“Sure,” the man answers, “what would you like to pray about?”

“Daddy.” James stated, in which the man gave them a confused look.

“My husband’s a cop.” Anna reassures him. “He was there that night.”

“Oh.” the man whispers.

“Can we pray now?” Laura smiles as she held her hand out for her sisters.

“Yes.” the man answered while the family began to bow their heads and pray.

Later on that night

“Kristoff?” Anna murmurs as she rolls on over to face a shadow standing at the doorway. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” she could hear her husband say as he shuffle about in their room, “get some sleep, Anna. I’ll be in shortly.”

“Hmm...” Anna mumbles, knowing that he’ll have to be up in the next few hours.

She knew that he would have to go back to work, yet she longs for him to be home. Just be safe, Kristoff. she thought, just as she felt the bed shift with the added weight fall right behind her.

“Anna,” her husband yawns as he pulls her close to his bare chest, “are  you doing okay, love?”

“I’m doing fine.” Anna snuggles deep into his scent. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” he kisses her from behind the ear.

“The kids and I prayed for you today.” Anna breathes while trying to hold in her emotions.

“Oh.”

“They wanted to so badly,” Anna sniffles a bit, “since they’ve missed you so much.”

“I’m so sorry.” Kristoff cooed, allowing her to spill her tears.

“But they were so great today.” Anna continues. “They helped out with donations, they prayed over a lot of people, and hugged many more, too. You would’ve been so proud.”

“I am.” he whispers as he rubbed her arms for comfort. “They did an amazing job today.”

“Yes they sure did.” Anna turns around to kiss him delicately.

They continued on laying in bed, basking in each other’s embrace, until an idea had popped into her head.

“Anna,” Kristoff mumbles as he felt her move around a bit, “what are you doing?”

“Praying.” she answers, feeling her tears form.

Slowly, he had arose from his slumber, wrapping his arms around her, and gently rocking her in place. He knew that she was trying to be strong, yet he wanted her to let go. He wanted to tell her that everything will get better, yet he prayed for the courage to tell her. He could feel her finally crumble in his arms, as he gently kissed the top of her crown. He prayed for all of the victims that were affected by the tragedy. He prayed over his colleagues, both local and nationwide. He softly listened to her words of prayer, while she was slowly breathing.

“Can I tell you something?” he finally manages to say to her.

“Yes.” she breathes as she looked up at Kristoff.

“They are in a better place now.” he kissed her nose. “A lot of the survivors are on the road to recovery and I’m going to be okay. They gave me some time off to grieve and spend time with you.”

“Oh.”

“I love you.” Kristoff said as he settled back into bed.

“I love you, too.” Anna yawns while she relaxed into his arms.

They know that it would take some time for their hometown to heal, but for now the need to readjust to their lives, pray for their loved ones, and feel the wave of emotions go through them.

[fight-me-wyatt]

Richie Tozier ~ I'm Not Even Sorry

Request/Prompt: “I’m not even sorry” from  @cxxl-gall  Thank you! 

(Just clarifying that, she did in fact DM me and ask to change from mike to Richie (which is 100% okay), so that you don’t think I slipped up!) 

Ship: Richie Tozier x fem!reader

Summary: the reader is heading home from grocery shopping and Richie runs into her - literally- and ends up asking her out slyly. 

Type: fluff. (I think?) 

Warning: Only warning would be swearing. And sexual innuendos. What did you expect. It’s Richie. 

Word count: 2295 (including A/Ns)

Hope you enjoy it. Let me know! 

(not my gif, credit goes to @imultifandomstuff !)

Y/N POV 

The full paper bags in my hands were very full, and I could only just see over the top. I adjusted them slightly and sighed, starting to make the long walk back home. 

 The rhythmic sound of my worn out sneakers hitting the pavement with each step calmed me down from the awkward encounter I had had at the small corner store. 

 I had managed to give the shopkeeper the wrong amount of money and not realize it until he pointed it out, and responded to him saying “come back again” with “you too, love you, bye.” I didn’t even realize until the lady behind me chuckled, and by then it was too late… So.. I just left. All of this in front of several other customers waiting in line. Oh and how could I forget about dropping one of the bags on my way out the door. 

 I shook my head in embarrassment and focused on the bright blue sky and the very few clouds in it. I started humming to the tune of ‘Africa’ by Toto, finally in an okay mood. Better than okay. I was feeling good. 

 Well, I was, until I heard the sound of bikes being peddled, and a boy screaming something along the lines of “She was really fucking hot, and she kept staring at me. She definitely wanted to get in my pants! I mean who wouldn’t!” 

I also managed to hear the reply of another boy, who said, “Richie, she was old enough to be your mother, and she was probably staring at you because you kept spraying food everywhere when you spoke. Literally no one wants to get in your pants.” 

 I chuckled slightly at the response, and tried to see where they were, so I could cross the road without being hit. All I could see was carrots, apples and cabbage blocking my view. 

I thought about why the name Richie rung a bell. It was when he yelled back to the other boy that it clicked.

 “Just because you’re jealous that my sexiness reaches out to all ages, you fucking Jew, Stanley.” 

Richie Tozier. Trash mouth Tozier. Kind of funny and kind of cute… Not that I’d ever go there. I’d heard and seen him and his group of friends around school. The losers club, they called themselves. 

That must be the rest of the losers club on the bikes, as I could hear chatter and laughter. 

I decided to wait until they had gone past, so that I could cross the road, and not get run over. That would’ve been embarrassing. I tapped my foot to the beat as I hummed to myself. I was just getting to chorus when I heard a higher pitched voice shout out. 

“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING RICHIE!”

 I turned my head so I could see partly between the carrots, to see Richie on his bike, looking behind him, coming right at me.

I yelped and tried to move out of the way, but I stumbled over my lace. Richie’s bike hit the curb and he went flying over the handlebars, and landed on me, tumbling us both to the ground. 

I groaned, having hit the concrete hard. I looked up to see Richie staring at me with a slight grin on his face.

 “Jeez. Y/N. I barely know you, and yet here I am… On top of you. Not that I mind of course. I’d be happy to do it again sometime.”

I groaned and shoved him off me.

 “Get off me, pervert. Besides, you’re the one who fell for me. ” I rolled my eyes and sat up, dusting myself off. “Next time, watch where you’re going, asshat.”

 I started collecting the fruit, vegetables and other food that had rolled away and out of the bags that I had dropped when I got run over by Richie. I blew my hair out of my face with a scowl. One of the bags had ripped making it harder to rescue the food. Miraculously, only three eggs had been broken. The fruit was a tad bruised, but easily salvaged. 

With my back turned away from Richie, I wondered if he had moved. I could still see the rest of the losers club standing in the middle of the road with their bikes, waiting and watching with curiosity.

I had a pounding headache and my back was definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. I searched for the last apple on my hands and knees. I was sure I brought five, not four. My elbows stung. Stupidly, I had put them out, as I fell backwards. As I sighed, about to give up, I heard a satisfying crunch. 

My face and mood both turned even more sour. I turned to face Richie, and he smirked at me as he took another bite out of MY apple. 

That little shit. 

“you know, I’m not even sorry.” He said slyly.

I clenched my fists. 

“Oh trust me, Tozier, you will be soon.” I threatened.

He frowned slightly, then shook his head.

“No, I don’t think so. You see, Y/N, I think it’s the universe telling us to get it on.” He winked, and I noticed for the first time that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. 

They must’ve fallen off when he crash landed.

 “Ugh.” I rolled my eyes, a look of disgust evident on my face.

I paused, thinking. 

“Wait, how do you know my name?” 

 He looked taken aback for a second, before regaining his usual cocky demeanor.

 “You sang. At the school concert. And since then I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” He said, sappily, and mockingly, so I took it as a joke. 

What I didn’t realize was that he was serious. 

 I scowled harder before smiling sweetly. I grabbed his glasses from where they lay a short distance away. I placed them gently on his face, while he just stared at me in confusion and awe. I reached behind me and grabbed something he couldn’t see. I leaned forward, until our faces were inches apart. His breath hitched. 

“You know… Since you took that apple from me… ” I said in a soft voice, tilting my head slightly. 

Richie simply smirked. This poor boy. He had no idea what was coming.

 “.. You really… OUGHT TO TAKE AN EGG AS WELL, JACKASS!” I smashed the egg, that I was holding behind my back, on top of Richie’s head, and it ran down the sides of his face, which had a look of fear, surprise and shock on it. 

The rest of the losers club burst out laughing, whooping, cheering and clapping. I grinned and stood up, bowing to my audience. 

 I didn’t notice Richie slip a piece a paper in the unbroken bag as I awkwardly waved to the losers club. I picked up my bags awkwardly and narrowed my eyes at Richie suspiciously. 

“Were you always holding that pen?” I asked him, wondering where he had gotten it from. 

Richie shook his head and pointed in the general direction of Eddie.

 “Uuhhhh n-no I had it in my pocket… Because Eddie had asked me to look after it while he reorganised his fanny pack.” He said smiling slightly, but he looked almost afraid.. 

I nodded, content with his answer.

 “Maybe you should learn how to actually ride a bike, trashmouth.” I said to him before I continued on my way.

 I could hear the losers club laughing as I walked away, with a quiet “shut up” from Richie.

 - 

I got home and let myself in. The door was unlocked, despite no one being home, as my parents were very trusting and didn’t believe anything wrong could happen in little old Derry. 

I sighed, dropping the bags carefully onto the counter. I shook my arms out; they had almost gone to sleep after carrying the heavy bags for so long. 

I turned on the radio and Michael Jacksons 'Billie Jean’ was playing. I proceeded to sing and dance around the kitchen as I put away the shopping. I cleaned up the broken egg shells and washed the dirty vegetables. 

 After everything was put in its proper location, I peered into the bag to make sure nothing was left. I frowned in confusion. 

At the bottom of the intact bag was a business card of some sort. I pulled it out and read the front and snorted with laughter. 

In neat, typed out letters, it read: 

 ###-####-#### 

My friends call me Richie, 

But you can call me tonight, hot stuff. 

 I turned it over, still giggling to myself, to see a hand written message scrawled on the back. 

This one read: 

 Y/N - if fate lets it happen, maybe you could call me, 

And I’ll pay you back for the apple (and the egg) 

By taking you out for a date?

 - Tozier 

 I smiled and shook my head. This goddamn boy was gonna make my heart stop - whether it be because he runs me over again, or if he keeps being cute and funny, I don’t know, but I knew it would happen one way or another.

 I sat down on the couch and stared at the phone, then Richie’s card, then the phone again.

 “Fuck it” I whispered.

 I strode over to the phone and dialed the number. After three rings, it was picked up.

 “Hello, this is the Tozier residence, you’re talking to Maggie.” The voice on the other side of the line spoke confidently.

I didn’t say anything for a few seconds before kicking into gear. 

“Uh, yes, hi, hello, Mrs. Tozier. Is-is T- is Richie in? I’m a classmate and I -uh need to talk to him about…. Class…”

 “Sure thing, sweetie, I didn’t quite catch your name sorry?”

 “Oh, uh, Y/N, Y/F/N, sorry.” I responded.

 “Okay, Y/N, I’ll go get him for you.” 

The line went silent for a while and I started to debate whether or not to hang up when I heard his voice again.

 “Y/N? I-I didn’t think you’d actually call…” He sounded almost shy for once…

 I chuckle quietly, “yeah, well, I had to ask: do you really carry a bunch of business cards with pick up lines and your number on them!?” 

Richie laughed “well duh, how else am I going to keep up with demand?”

 I scoffed “oh, yeah, I’m sure, so I assume the woman on the phone was your secretary, and not your mother the phone before? How many do you carry on you at once anyways?”

 I could almost hear Richie blush through the phone. He stammered, trying to respond.

 “Uhh… I.. Um.. Yeah, totally.. Ha, ha.. Uh I carry about ten most days. Gotta limit the ladies ya know? I used my dads typewriter and the photocopier down at the library..”

I let out a long, low whistle. 

“Wow. You’re really holding back, aren’t you. Only ten per day.” I laugh, and twirl the phone cord around my finger. “I suppose the old library ladies have a couple of their own cards that they got from you, don’t they?” 

Richie chuckled sheepishly “oh, you can bet on it. So, ah, did you - did you read the other side of the card?” 

I smiled and flipped over the card, rereading the handwritten note.

 “Yeah.. I did.” I said softly. 

Richie’s breath caught in his throat “well-” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat “well, uh, did you- did you think about it?” 

 He sounded so nervous… So I decided to tease him a bit longer. 

“Yes. Yes I did. For a while actually.” I said cool and easily.

 “Oh my god Y/N! Just, do you want to go on a date with me or not? Because I really like you, and you’re killing me here.” He said in an outburst that surprised me.

 I stood there grinning like an idiot for a few seconds, before his voice brought me back. 

“Y/N? Hello? … Hello?” 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, sorry, got a bit distracted. Well, I WAS gonna say yes, but now I’m not too sure…” I said dead seriously, trying to get payback. 

His voice sounded dejected when he finally responded “Oh.. Okay… Well then, bye, I g-” 

I quickly cut him off before he could hang up.

 “Richie! Richie - wait! I was joking. I would love to go on a date with you. Because ” I took a deep breath “because I think I like you too… But you have to promise not to run me over with your bike OR ditch me for one of the library ladies” I laughed softly, waiting for his response.

 Richie laughed “Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N, you really had me going there…. And although those are some pretty high expectations of me, I think I can manage, so… I promise.” 

In the background I could hear Mr. Tozier call out “language, young man!”

 “Sorry, dad.” Richie called behind him, before returning to me.

 “Does tomorrow afternoon work for you?”

 “You bet your ass it does, Mr. Fate.” 

“See you then, Miss. Apple.”

 A/N: My first character imagine! I’m not sure if I like it or not… 

I enjoyed writing it though! 

Please send in some prompts or plots with a character/cast member guys! I haven’t done any stranger things ones yet. Xx 

After some difficulty I have managed to make my paragraphs work again! (thanks @cxxl-gall )

[pennywise-side-blog]

Reddie First Kiss Headcannon

(( I am so sorry in advance for this, I'm still new to making Headcannons!! I just thought this idea was, like, super cute?! ))

- Richie and Eddie are hanging out in Richie's bedroom one day.

- Eddie lies on his back discussing plans they have with the other Losers later that week.

- Richie sits beside him listening to him talk and a feeling of joy washes over him.

- Richie leans down, Eddie mid-sentence, and kisses him on the lips.

- Richie's face turn red, seeing how he had done something so compulsive.

- Eddie's cheeks are a faint shade of pink as he stares up at Richie, wide-eyed.

- A large smile washes over Eddie's once blank face.

- Eddie leans up and wraps his arms around Richie's neck as the two giggle with glee.

- Richie's once red cheeks have now faded from embarrassment to happy-pink-cheeks.

The Two Decide to Finally Tell Their Fellow Losers,

- Richie and Eddie walk up to their friends, faintly holding hands.

- Eddie looks at Richie with red cheeks. He darts his eyes toward the Losers hinting that they should say something.

- Richie finally speaks up, "he-HEY, Everyone..."

- Beverly is the first to turn to face them, she greets the two with a smile.

- The rest of the Losers Club turns to see the two holding hands as Eddie awkwardly waves at them with his free hand.

- A silence falls over the Losers Club, but they quickly break the silence.

- Beverly rushes over to the two with a huge smile and open arms, "GUYS!! OH MY- WOW!!"

- The other Losers follow behind Beverly and greet their friends with love and acceptance. (( "CONGRATS!!" "It's about time!" "We're so happy for you!!" Can be heard from the group )).

- The Losers Club shares a large group hug of love and caring to support their friends' new, relationship.

- Eddie and Richie look at each other and smile widely. (( This went better than they could have ever imagined! They hoped their friends would be happy, but never this happy!! )).

- Happy laughter is heard from the entire group.

Their New Relationship Leads to A LOT of Hangouts Between the Couple,

- LOTS OF DATES

> Movie Dates (( Imagine them holding hands during the movie and Richie sneaking little Kisses on Eddie!! ))

> Walks In the Park (( They Hold Hands the Entire Time. Richie killing bugs to calm Eddie down, too cute!! ))

> Cute Little Gay Picnics In the Park (( Eddie packing them lunch and spreading out a blanket for them to sit on, awWwWe!! ))

> Stay At Home Dates! (( Just them holding hands under a blanket while watching a movie, Richie falls asleep on Eddie's shoulder ))

> DOUBLE DATES!! (( Just Ben and Beverly out on the town with Eddie and Richie and they all have milkshakes or some shit [RICHIE AND EDDIE GET ICE CREAM AGAIN OMG] )).

- sLeEpOVeRs!!

> Richie and Eddie stripping the sheets and blankets off Eddie's bed and making a HUGE pillow fort dead-center in the living room!

> Horror Movie Marathons that last until dawn!! (( They watch Killer Klowns from Outer Space and the boys just kinda look at each other with that "Um - That's too familiar..?" Look, priceless!! )) (( Richie freaking out at the Teen Wolf movie and hiding under the blanket while Eddie just laughs really loud. Richie backlashing with The Creature from the Black Lagoon [Cuz that thing is nasty and Eddie would be afraid of it for sure] )).

> Comedy Movie Marathons where Richie knows every word to every movie. (( Idk why but I feel like Richie would love The 'Burbs?? ))

> Eddie and Richie sneaking into the kitchen at 2 A.M. for snacks (( Richie would totally shatter something because he would want to be funny instead of sneaky )) (( Maybe they'll restock on Popcorn? Soda? Brownies Eddie's Mom Made? Just snacks!!! )).

> The Boys stay up all night and crash at dawn because of a Sugar Crash (( 😂👏🏻 ))

> Richie cracking jokes at Eddie's mom (( Eddie slightly nudging Richie with a quiet "Beep Beep, Richie!" )).

> Richie and Eddie singing along to every hit on the radio because THEY KNOW EVERY WORD OMG! (( Richie totally went through a Michael Jackson faze )).

- They Have Normal Hangouts with the Losers, but

> Richie and Eddie sit slightly to the side holding hands.

> They both sneak kisses when no one is looking because LOVE IS GROSS 😝

> Eddie and Richie constantly share stories about their love life? (( Stan the Man is like please for God's sake shut the fuck up omg!! ))

- The Losers Club totally has a tradition of Saturday Morning Cartoons at Eddie's house.

- Richie always begs Eddie to help him with his homework.

> "UGH!! C'mon, Eds!!!! I need you!"

> "Richard, I know you can do it! NOW STOP COMPLAINING AND GET YOUR ASS TO WORK!!"

> " *pause* my Cute ass?"

> " *blush* Shut up..."

- Eddie and Richie totally ride their bikes together for fun (( Richie always turns it into a competition no matter what )).

- (( More Cute Couple Stuff I Can't Think Of ))

Of Course, The Bullies Have Something to Say,

- The Losers are standing in front of their lockers in between bells one day, talking like they always do. (( Richie and Eddie are slightly away from their fellow Losers, not by much but enough to notice )).

- Henry and his gang approach the Losers. Henry slams Eddie against his locker, causing him to fall to the floor and smashes Richie's glasses to his face, making him lose his footing slightly.

- The Bowers Gang begins dropping crude comments like "faggots" and "who's the girl here?" and "y'all are a disgrace to our fucking town!"

- (( Patrick stands behind Henry feeling very sad and insecure. In truth, Patrick loves that there is a happy same sex relationship in their school [something he wished he had]. It's hard for him to hear his "friends" saying such rude things, but it's harder for him to go against Henry. [Patrick really likes Henry, but has never been able to admit it to him face to face. He knows that Henry would never be in a same sex relationship because it would make him look week. He couldn't be the biggest, baddest guy in school if he isn't seen to be getting the most tail!]. So, Patrick stands behind the group silently being sad. ))

- Richie has taken a knee beside Eddie, checking to make sure he is okay.

- Henry stands over the two, snickering at their "weakness".

- Bill has had enough and steps in front of Henry. Bill lets out another "Yuh-Yuh-You suh-suh-suck, Buh-Bowers!!"

- Henry is embarrassed as his cheeks turn bright pink and he puffs up his chest. Henry begins storming away from the group, leaving his Gang behind him. (( Patrick hurries behind Henry and catches up with him before the rest of the Gang. Belch leaving the Losers with one last disgusting burp )).

- As the Bowers Gang takes the final corner out of the Losers' sight, Bill lets out a huge breath of air he had been holding in. The Losers behind him begin celebrating (( Beverly hugs Ben, Stanley and Mike share an extreme high-five, Richie and Eddie look at each other and begin screaming and hugging with joy at their victory )).

The First Time They Say I Love You,

- After countless weeks of harassment at school, Eddie has finally had enough of it.

- He and Richie are talking on the phone.

- Eddie's loud sobs can be heard through the line, "RICH?! WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS TO US?! WE HAVE NEVER DONE ANYTHING TO THEM!! I-I-I-Uh A-Am Hav-Having an Asthma Attack!!"

- Richie hates hearing his boyfriend in such distress.

- Richie tries cheering Eddie up, "C'mon, Eds!! They - um - just hate us cuz they ain't us, you know?"

- A faint laugh is heard through the phone, "Rich, you always know how to cheer me up!"

- Richie smiles at the phone hearing his boyfriend has been put into a better mood, "Of course I do, Eds. It's because I love you."

- Silence is coming from both sides of the line.

- Eddie sits up in his bed staring aimless into his room with pink cheeks.

- Richie's face turns completely red and he begins panicking inside his head, "BEEP BEEP RICHIE!! WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!? IT'S TOO SOON, RICH!! WHAT IS HE THINKING?! WHAT WILL HE SAY?!"

- The Silence continues on.

- Richie decides to break the silence, "Eds, I-I-Uh-"

- Eddie interrupts him, "I LOVE YOU TOO, RICH!!"

- Richie's cheeks become slightly pink (( compared to the previous deep red )), "Yo-You do - I MEAN - Of course you do, that's why I said it!"

- Eddie begins laughing into the phone at his boyfriend's apparent embarrassment, "I really do love you, Rich."

- Richie smiles at his phone hearing these words, "Me too, Eds and I'm so glad."

🌈 And They Really Do Love Each Other and No One Can Take That from Them 🌈

[grownups-are-the-real-monsters]

Take It To The Limit

Chapter 3: Seasons In The Sun 

Summary: Richie and Beverly might be a little homesick. Eddie is persuaded to face his feelings. Bill tries to do something about his. And Stan just wants everyone to be happy. 

Ships: Reddie, eventual Stenbrough, Benverly.

Word count: 1,808

Richie would say he did this carefully if Beverly asked but really he didn’t give his safety a second thought as he balanced his feet on the arms of the backseat chairs. He stuck his body out of the sun roof and threw his arms out to his sides, the wind rushing over him, he needed this. Now, as if this wasn’t enough, a large trunk moved into the lane next to theirs and Richie smirked. He did his best to look at the driver and pump his arm a couple times over. Until, the driver pumped his arm and the loudest honk was sounded. Richie laughed with his success and threw his head back as the truck sped away. 

“I’m not paying for your hospital bills, Tozier! Get in!” Beverly shouted as she slowed down and Richie begrudgingly bent down and crawled back in and over to his seat. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He bit his lip and reached over to grab the map, opening it every which way and looking over it. “We’re ten inches away from the next gas station!” 

Beverly rolled her eyes and turned the wheel. “Be serious.” 

Richie’s smile was wiped away in an instant. “Ok, we’re five miles away.” He shrugged and stuffed the map back onto the dashboard. He kicked his feet up and lounged back in his seat, hovering his arm out the window. 

“Are you still mad at me for saying The Rolling Stones were better than the Beatles?” Beverly sighed as she gave him a small grin but her companion only shook his head and bit at the skin around his thumbnail. She quirked her brow as she kept her eyes on the road. “Ok.” She sighed and drove on to the gas station.  

“It’s just...”

Beverly waited for him to continue. 

“This feels wrong without everyone else.” Richie shrugged and looked off at the road. Beverly nodded.

“I know what you mean....I planned this for all of us. I’m kind of bummed too.” She sighed and Richie straightened with interest. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” She asked and Richie nodded vigorously. 

Beverly got them to the gas station but turned back the way they had come from once they pulled out of the parking lot. 

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

“How much do you miss me???” Richie squealed annoyingly, Eddie held the phone away from his ear for a moment before returning once it was quiet again. As he did so, Stan refilled his glass of sparkling water. He smiled at him. 

“Not at all.” He shrugged even though Richie couldn’t see him and sipped the water with his act of indifference. 

“Now, I know that’s a lie. And you shouldn’t lie like that Eds. I could die out here and those would be your last words.” Richie chuckled and Eddie rolled his eyes. 

“That’s not funny-”

“Ohh that reminds me of a dear song, I know you love-” 

“Richie, I swear to God if you sing that song, I’ll kill you-”

“Goodbye to you my trusted friend. We've known each other since we were nine or ten. Together we've climbed hills and trees, learned of love and ABC's, skinned our hearts and skinned our knees-”  

“Stop! You know that song gives me the heebie-jeebies! I’m going to hang up!” Eddie shouted but with a tinge of laughter that just encouraged Richie more. 

“Goodbye my friend it's hard to die-”

Eddie hung the phone up with a grin on his face, shaking his head and expecting another call not too long after this one. He glanced up to find all his friends staring at him with that expression of expectant that he hated. He scowled and sipped his water. 

“So, Eddie we were planing to watch-”

“When are you and Richie going to start dating?” Ben interrupted with an eager face as he leaned on the counter and Eddie choked on his water. Stan shot his head round and slapped his arm with a scowl. 

“We agreed on being subtle Ben! That was not subtle!” Stan huffed and hid his face. Ben frowned and seemed to second guess his burst but it was too late to do anything about it. 

“We don’t like each other like that.” Eddie growled and Stan gulped. “I’m sick of you guys bothering me about it, ok? It’s not going to happen. I don’t like him like that.” Eddie looked ready to burst. 

Bill glanced from him to Stan. “We’re s-s-sorry Eddie.” He rolled his lips together and reached over to pat his shoulder. Stan nodded from behind him. Eddie shrugged his hand off and fled away from them. Mike frowned. 

“We c-c-can’t assume things. We can’t rush them.” Bill shrugged and they all nodded. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll go get him.” He pushed himself off the stool and in the direction Eddie had gone. 

Eddie sat on the edge of his bed, looking almost nervous when Bill walked in and stopped at the doorway. He knocked awkwardly on the doorway just to make sure Eddie wanted him to come in. And when the small boy shrugged, he walked in and sat on that desk chair. “So...you’re mad?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think I like Richie?” he narrowed his eyes and Bill wanted to vomit. 

“Well, I-I dunno. The way you l-l-look at him or maybe your guy’s f-fa--flirting.” Bill felt his eyes sting as he regurgitated all the reasons Eddie liked someone that wasn’t him. 

Eddie pursed his lips. “That’s just- It’s not flirting.” He scowled and shifted in his seat while his cheeks went red. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being g-ga-gay, Eddie.” Bill desperately ached to get that sad look off Eddie’s face. The smaller boy didn’t look too convinced. He just shrugged and looked off into the corner of his room. “If it helps...I think I am too.”

Eddie’s head shot up and he stared daggers at him. “Really?”

Bill nodded with a small reassuring grin as he got up to sit next to his first friend. “Yeah, n-n-no big deal.” He shrugged. 

Eddie’s eyes went gentle again. “How did you-how did you know?” 

Bill rubbed his eye and grinned. “My first crush was Spider-man.” He chuckled and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh too. 

“Really? Peter Parker?” He bumped his shoulder and Bill shook his head. 

“Shut up.” He laughed harder and soon they were both hysterical. 

“Funny enough...I think you were probably mine.” Eddie’s chuckle faded whereas Bill’s stopped dead in his throat. Eddie didn’t seem to notice. 

“It was only when were kids and it’s really dumb.” He chuckled but Bill felt that stab his stomach. Dumb. He took a deep breath and willed his leg to stop bouncing. 

“Can I tr-tr-try something?” Bill asked and Eddie looked at him with confusion. 

“Sure.” He shrugged and Bill leaned forward and smashed their lips together, putting his hands on Eddie’s cheeks. His stomach inflamed with nerves and Eddie let it happen for a few seconds before pulling away with wide brown eyes. 

He took a few wheezy breaths and Bill almost panicked but Eddie was able to calm himself down without an issue. “I have to go.” Eddie shot up and went darting for the door. 

“But this is your house!” Bill got up and ran after him. Eddie stopped for a minute, considering that statement but then just shot out of his home, blowing past their friends. 

Bill slowed to a stop and Mike, Stan and Ben gave him confused looks. Bill took a deep breath and looked down at the floor. He put his face in his hands and Stan took it upon himself to stroll over. 

“What ugh...what happened?” He asked softly as he plopped down next to his friend. Bill glanced up, meeting Stan’s eyes that were calm and gentle. 

“Nothing...I’ll f-f--fix it.” Bill dismissed him and stood up, taking off. Stan watched him go and looked towards Ben and Mike. 

“Guess we should get out of Eddie’s house then?” Ben asked, getting up and the three of them left. Stan felt compelled to do something. 

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

So Stan paged Beverly. He knew she cared around her pager and would most definitely have it on her. And luckily, she got to a phone not long after he beeped her. 

“Alright, what was so important that Richie can’t be around?” She asked as she crossed her arms from behind the gas station. She twirled the payphone cord and kicked at a rock. 

“Hey....Has Bill ever mentioned a problem he might have with Eddie?” Stan jumped right into it and Beverly nearly choked. 

“Why? Did something happen?” She asked with nerves and Stan made an indifferent sound. 

“Eddie was upset at us for bringing his possible feelings for Richie up and Bill went to talk to him but Eddie stormed off like ten minutes later. Bill seemed really off...” Stan frowned with concern. 

Beverly sighed and slammed her fist down on the booth. “Listen....just hold off on doing something. Ok?” She asked hoping Stan would listen. She was not about to spoil the surprise but she needed to make sure she could talk to Bill before anyone else. 

Stan seemed like he didn’t entirely want to agree with that. “Ok....but are you sure?” 

“Yes, Stanley. Tell the others I said-”

“Hi, yeah got it.” Stan hung up but he hadn’t sounded more than just a little indifferent. Beverly wrapped the phone cord around her hand until her skin was edged with white and red. She sighed and unraveled it, hanging up the phone and darting back over to where Richie was filling the gas tank. The nauseating green and white lights reflected in his hair. 

As she looked over him, she decided she never wanted to have to withhold information from her friends again....except she would most likely have too again. She groaned and put her hand on the small of her back, Richie glanced up as he hung the gas nozzle back up. “Cramps?” He teased her. 

“You’re the physical embodiment of a period cramp, Rich.” She shot back with a smirk and he gasped, slapping over his heart. She took the chance to climb back in the car and turn it on, the radio filling the space. 

Richie came round and sat in the passengers side, immediately fiddling with the radio. “I’m a little nervous....”

Beverly didn’t much feel up for talking about this so she pretended to be oblivious. “About...?”

“What if Eddie says no?” Richie asked, clearly embarrassed and Beverly wondered why she’d been cursed with such a friendly personality. 

“He’s not going to say no, Rich.....Here play your Zeppelin CD.” She dug it out from the glove box and tossed it to him ,he gladly took it. Shockingly, Richie remained pretty silent for a lot of the night. Apart from the occasional mumbling of lyrics and tapping on the window. 

those who wanted to be tagged: @wintersember @474118

[not-so-lonely-star]

Not So Straight Golden Boy (1/2)

Word count: ~7,000 Rating: T+ Summary: Corbin Harvey has always had a small manageable crush on Kent Parson. Unfortunately for him, that crush remains neither small nor manageable once he stumbles upon Kent naked in the locker room. A/N: So I may have written 15,000 words of Kent and an OMC... oops. Anyway I have everything pretty much written and just need to edit the next chapter. I should have it posted on Monday. Thanks for reading/liking/commenting! A03

Harvey wanted to go home. He’d been at the rink since 6 am and he was literally five minutes away from murdering someone. He should’ve told Audrey no when she asked him to take over her shift. Of course he’d said yes because he’s a dumbass and she was having a kid, but still.

He was doing the final walkthrough before locking up when he noticed the lights on in the locker room. Harvey sighed and walked in, one of these days the cleaning crew would remember to turn out the lights. Harvey rounded the corner into the room and immediately froze.

“Naked Kent Parson!” he said, hands flying up to cover his eyes.

“You can just call me Kent.”

“Oh my god,” he said. “Oh my god Kent - Mr. P - Kent Parson,” he stumbled over his words. “I am so sorry, I was just coming in to shut off the lights. I had no idea someone was still in here.”

“It’s fine man,” Kent said, and he sounded weird - a little sad maybe.

Not that Harvey would really know what he normally sounded like in person since he was fairly certain Kent had never said more than hey to him as they passed in the hallways before - but still. Harvey wanted to look at him, see if he really was sad but the three second long glance he’d gotten of a toned, tanned, wet bare chest a moment ago had him squeezing his eyes shut behind his hand. 

“You don’t have to keep covering your eyes you know.”

“But you’re naked!” Harvey said before he could stop himself. God he was making a fool of himself.

Kent huffed out a sound that was probably supposed to be related to a laugh. “Bro, I’ve got a towel on.”

Harvey slowly lowered his hand and yup that was definitely a towel draped low across Kent Parson’s hips. He was sitting down in front of his locker, legs spread looking for all the world like he belonged on the cover of a magazine instead of in a smelly gym locker room hours after the game ended. Harvey had never really been into hockey players per say.  He didn’t have a crush on any of the Aces - seriously seeing the mess they always left for the cleaning crew nipped it right in the butt. But Kent Parson - well even Harvey could appreciate a body like that.

“Okay, well now that I’ve made a fool of myself,” Harvey said, backing towards the door. “Can you just turn the light out when you’re done?”

Kent Parson nodded and stood, grabbing his clothes from his locker. And Harvey figured he was being dismissed. Just before he made it out of the locker room he turned back towards Kent.

“Hey,” he said, tapping a hand against the locker room door frame. “Good game tonight, I really thought the Falconers had you there for a second.”

Parson’s shoulders stiffened and Harvey wanted to apologize but he wasn’t sure what he’d said wrong. Before he could say anything Kent mumbled thanks and began getting dressed, movements jerky and mechanical.

Harvey’s best friend, Tara, was under the impression that being a rink manager at the arena the Aces used was a glamorous position where he could talk to the Aces everyday. The reality of it was that he’d never so much as had a real non-work related conversation with any of the Aces until he walked in on Kent in the locker room. The following day when he’d been back at the arena for his own shift he’d expected things to go back to normal - him occasionally passing Kent Parson in the hallway receiving a nod or, if Kent was in a chatty mood, a hey in greeting.

So he was more than a little shocked when, instead of passing one another in the hallway like usual, Kent approached him fifteen minutes before Aces practice was set to start.  

“Hey man,” Kent said, “Sorry I didn’t catch your name last night, I was pretty messed up after the game.” The way he smiled when he said it made Harvey think he was supposed to smile back, maybe make a joke, but the way Kent’s eyes didn’t catch the smile made him hesitate.

“Corbin Harvey, I go by Harvey,” he said, extending a hand. “Daytime Pepsi Arena manager.”

“So official,” Kent said, shaking his hand. “I’m Kent, but I’m fairly certain you already knew that.” Kent winked, but it seemed mechanical, more of an ‘I should wink here’ rather than an ‘I want to wink here’.  “So Harvey, if you’re the daytime manager, what were you doing here last night?”

Harvey pulled his hand back from Kent’s grip before the other man could feel the clamminess of his palm. “I was covering Audrey’s shift, since she was having a baby.”

Kent quirked his head at Harvey. “Brunette, about this tall,” he said, with his hand outstretched a couple inches shorter than Kent. “Black hipster glasses?”

“Yeah,” Harvey said, unsure where Kent was going with this. He shifted out of the way as a gaggle of Aces came clomping down the hallway, several of whom thumped Kent on the back as they past.

“She didn’t look pregnant.”

“Oh,” Harvey said, “Her partner went into labor right before Audrey’s shift last night so she obviously left to be with her - which left me with a 16 hour shift.”

“Her partner?” Kent repeated as though he’d never heard the word before. And god Harvey hoped Kent Parson wasn’t going to be a dick about this because that would definitely ruin the fantasy he had going in his head after seeing him wet and half naked last night.

“Yup,” Harvey said firmly, daring Kent to be a dick.

“Cool. Tell her congrats from me,” Kent said.

The tightness leached from Harvey’s shoulders as he smiled. “Yeah, I’ll let her know Kent Parson sends his congratulations when she comes back to work.”

“You can call me Kent you know.” Kent smirked and patted Harvey on the shoulder. “Anyway I better get to practice, see you around.”

Over the following two weeks he saw Kent Parson a total of six times, and each time Kent at least smiled at him, and sometimes struck up a conversation. It was weird, but in a good way that Harvey was definitely not going to question - especially when it gave him something to look forward to while he was taking long shifts during home games to cover for Audrey.  

When Harvey was walking by the locker room one afternoon he heard one of the showers running. Harvey walked into the locker room and towards the area with the showers. He rounded the corner into the shower area and was confronted with Kent Parson’s perky, bare naked ass.

Harvey yelped and turned around swiftly. “Oh my god - I’m so sorry,” he said, feeling a strong sense of deja vu.

The shower squeaked off and a moment later Kent was standing before him, towel wrapped around his waist. “We have to stop meeting like this,” he said with a bright carefree smile.

“I’m sorry,” Harvey repeated, using all his willpower to keep his eyes from roaming down Kent’s bare chest. “I thought someone left the shower on - you’d think by now I’d have learned to announce myself before just waltzing into the locker room.”

“It’s cool,” Kent said, snagging another towel from the rack and messing his hair with it. “I’m used to a being naked around a bunch of guys.”

Out of context the statement would definitely be odd, but Kent was obviously used to sharing the locker room with plenty of other people. Kent started walking from the shower area back towards his locker with Harvey trailing behind him.

“Well that’s good at least,” Harvey said, as Kent began rifling through his locker. “I’m pretty sure I’d be nowhere near as chill about it.”

“Spend a season in a hockey locker room and you get used to pretty much anything.” Kent said, slipping his boxers on underneath his towel, before dropping it to the floor. Harvey swallowed hard. “You ever play hockey?”

Harvey shook his head, snapping his eyes back up to meet Kent’s. “Nah,” he said, clearing his throat, “I can’t even skate.”

“What?” Kent froze, jeans only halfway up his thighs. “You’re joking right?”

Harvey smiled sheepishly and shook his head.

“OH MY GOD,” Kent said, yanking his pants on the rest of the way. “Grab a pair of skates from the rental booth and get your ass on the ice, I’m teaching you right now.”

Harvey rubbed his scruffy chin. “Well there’s a youth figure skating class that starts soon,” he said, which wasn’t true in the strictest sense of the word since there was a solid hour left before the kids would start showing up, but Kent didn’t need to know that.

“Ugh,” Kent sighed melodramatically, “Alright Harvard you nerd.” He pulled on a shirt and reached into his bag to pull out a phone that was even older than Harvey’s. “Here give me your number.”

“Did you just call me Harvard?” Harvey asked, reaching for Kent Parson’s phone automatically.

“Yeah,” Kent smiled and bumped his shoulder, “If you’re going to learn how to skate you’re going to need a hockey nickname.”

Harvey bit down on the smile trying to break free as he plugged his phone number into Kent’s flip phone. Harvey handed him his phone back and tried not to die of embarrassment just thinking about a Stanley Cup champion watching him try to skate.

Harvey’s phone began buzzing in his pocket. Before he could move to pull it out Kent spoke.

“There, now you’ll have my number too,” he said with a smile so big Harvey wondered how he could’ve ever thought that the smirk he offered the media was the real thing. “See you around Harvard.”

Harvey forgot to program Kent’s number into his phone, and that evening he got a text from an unknown number that said Spice world channel 42.

6:17pm : What? Is this Kent Parson

6:17pm: Um dude you can just call me Kent 6:17pm: and yess obv

6:19pm: Oh, did you mean to send me that text?

6:19pm: yeah b/c spice worls is on channel 42 rn and you’re missing out 6:20pm: world*

Harvey smiled down at his phone and flicked on the T.V. He was thankful Tara wasn’t home yet because there was no doubt in his mind that she’d be teasing him ruthlessly.  

6:23pm: Okay I turned it on. I’ve actually never seen this.

6:23pm: Oh my goddddd 6:23pm: First he says he doesn’t know how to skate 6:23pm: then hes never seen spice world 6:24pm: whats next you’ve never

The next text didn’t appear for three and a half minutes - not that Harvey was keeping track, but still that seemed like an inordinately long time for the short message that followed.

6:27pm: had cotton candy

6:28pm: Now that is something I have done 6:28pm:    :)

He watched the rest of the movie with Kent - well not really with him, but close enough since they texted throughout the entire thing. Tara didn’t come home until the credits had long since rolled and he was still smiling like a dumbass at his phone.

“What’s got you so happy,” Tara said, plopping down onto the couch beside him.

“Nothing,” Harvey said, glancing at the goodnight text Kent had sent after the movie ended.

“That smile’s not nothing.” Tara leaned into Harvey and stole his phone, ignoring Harvey’s halfhearted attempts at getting it back. “Is this the real Kent Parson?” Tara asked, holding up his phone as evidence.

“Yes,” Harvey said, trying to reach the phone to pull it out of her hands unsuccessfully.

Tara put her hand on his head to keep him at a distance and scrolled through the texts with her other. “Oh my god,” she said, “You used emojis.”

“No I didn’t,” Harvey said even though the evidence was in her hands. He lunged towards his roommate who - for being so small - was way too skillful at wrestling out of his grip.

“Yes you did,” she laughed and stood before throwing him his phone back. She put a pale hand to her chest and sighed. “My little Corbin, growing up.”

Harvey threw a pillow at her.

He and Kent texted randomly following their shared movie night and every time his phone buzzed he had a dopey grin on his face that he couldn’t seem to help. They still talked when they saw each other in the hallways, but Harvey didn’t bring up the texting and neither did Kent. It wasn’t as though it was a secret, but it wasn’t not a secret either.

Almost two weeks after they started texting they still hadn’t gone ice skating yet due to a string of away games and excuses from Harvey when the Aces were home. Harvey was sitting in his office one afternoon when one of the custodians came in.

“One of the Aces is looking for you.”

Harvey stood, tamping down a stupid smile. “Okay, do you know where he is?”

“Conference room three.”

Harvey thanked him and bounded out of his office down the hall towards the conference rooms. Why Kent would want to meet him there he had no idea. When Harvey opened the door to the room he froze for a second, double checking that he hadn’t stepped into the wrong room accidentally.

Harvey felt a little dumb when he realized he was in the right room - just because he and Kent texted now didn’t mean that there weren’t still work related things some of the other Aces might want to talk to him about.

He smiled and stepped into the room, greeting the dark haired Ace waiting with his back to him.

“Hey, are you Harvard?”

Harvey rubbed a hand across his jaw before stepping forward. “I’m Harvey,” he said, offering a hand.

“Jeff Troy,” the guy said, shaking his hand.

“What can I do for you?” Harvey asked, using his customer service voice.

“So I may have stolen Kent’s phone after he was being a jerk and I may have seen how much he texts you,” Jeff said. “So I sort of wanted to meet you because I’m a nosy asshole and Kent’s my best friend.”

Harvey was confused, what was he supposed to say here? Don’t worry I’m not trying to take your best friend away, I just kind of really want to kiss him. Um no thanks.

“It’s good to meet you,” he said instead.

“I should’ve known you’d be a fucking giant. How tall are you? 6’3” 6’4”?”

“Uhh,” Harvey said, nearly getting whiplash from trying to follow Jeff’s train of thought. “Like 6’6” I think?”

“Wow so like substantially taller than Parser, that’s cute.” Jeff smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re listed in his phone with a heart after your name by the way.”

Hockey players chirped each other, Harvey knew, maybe that’s what Jeff was doing in a very weird way that was making Harvey’s heart beat double time. The door to the room banged behind them and Harvey turned towards it.

“What the fuck are you up to Swoops?” Kent said when his wild eyes landed on Jeff.

Jeff put his hands up in supplication. “Nothing, nothing. Just talking to your good friend here.” He winked at Harvey and slipped past Kent out into the hall.

Kent watched him go for a moment before turning towards Harvey. “Seriously though, what did he say to you?”

Harvey looked down at Kent. He hadn’t realized how much taller he was until that moment - he was always taller than people but Kent was so small. He’d probably fit perfectly under his arm. Harvey shook the thoughts from his head, these were definitely not things he should be thinking about ‘straight golden boy’ Kent Parson.

“Nothing really, he just introduced himself.”

“He didn’t try to tell you embarrassing shit about me?” Kent looked up at him, cheeks tinged pink.

He shook his head with a smile.

Once Kent was assured that Jeff didn’t embarrass him too much, he coerced Harvey into making plans with Kent to go skating on Friday. He couldn’t put off learning any longer. He’d already pushed it back as much as he could and he didn’t want Kent to think he didn’t want to hang out with him. He just prayed he wouldn’t make too much a fool of himself.  

On Friday afternoon he stood by the front entrance to the building, awkwardly waiting for Kent to arrive so he could let him in. It was locked for maintenance all afternoon, even though the crew wouldn’t be arriving for at least an hour.

While the thought of spending an hour alone with his growing crush intimidated him, at least there wouldn’t be anyone else there to witness his humiliating attempts to learn how to skate - well anyone other than Kent freaking Parson - two time Stanley Cup winning champion.

Oh god. He was so screwed.

Harvey was contemplating turning out all the lights and pretending he forgot when he saw Kent’s Mercedez pull into the parking lot. Harvey watched as Kent leapt out of the car and shot him an enthusiastic grin before hopping up to the door.

“Hey,” Kent said as Harvey opened the door and locked it behind him. “Are you ready?”

Harvey groaned and snagged the pair of skates he’d left out of the rental box as he followed Kent to the rink. “If you mean do I feel like I’m about to vomit - then yes, I’m ready.”

Kent threw his head back and laughed. The sound made Harvey’s heart jump. There was a blast of manufactured icy air as they pulled open the door to the rink and made their way to a bench to slip on their skates.

Kent was already laced up and snapping a picture of his skates with his phone before Harvey even had his shoes off.

“Instagram,” Kent said conspiratorially. “Hashtag can’t get enough of this.”

“Is your phone even capable of instagram?” Harvey said, attempting to chirp him, though the way his hands were vibrating on the laces lost a bit of the effect.

Kent glanced up at him and shifted a little closer on the bench so their knees were touching. “Hey,” he said bumping Harvey’s shoulder gently, “It’s really not as scary as it seems Harvard. You’ll be fine. I’ve got you.”

Harvey finished lacing his skates and shot Kent a tremulous smile. He took a deep breath. He could do this, he worked at an ice rink for god's sake.

Kent stretched out a hand to help him up. Harvey clasped Kent’s hand and heaved himself up off the bench. He could feel his own erratic heartbeat through his palm and dropped Kent’s hand as soon as he was standing. He only hoped Kent had chalked up the rapid pulse to his fear of skating. He should’ve worn gloves.

Harvey took one wobbly step, almost falling and he wasn’t even on the ice yet. Harvey held onto the wall with a death grip as he stepped out onto the ice, afraid his feet would slide out from underneath him any second.

“Okay,” Kent said turning to smile at him. “You want to have a back and forth movement like this.” He skated away from Harvey slowly before stopping sharply and coming back towards him. “Now you try.”

It probably would’ve been smart to pay attention to what Kent’s legs were doing during the demonstration instead of ogling his ass, but it was a little too late for that now. Kent skated a little ways again and Harvey made a point of paying attention this time. Once Kent was back by his side Harvey pushed off the wall to try for himself.

He skated semi-successfully for two long strides before the edge of his blade got stuck in a divot and he went flying. He would’ve crashed down onto the ice had it not been for the strong sure hands catching him and righting him easily.

Harvey’s face flushed at the feel of Kent’s hands on him.

“You alright?”

Harvey nodded, “Yeah this is harder than it looks. And it already looks hard.”

Kent drew his hands back and Harvey felt the loss keenly. “I could grab one of the kiddy cones for you to use,” Kent said with a teasing smirk.

“Oh hell no,” Harvey said. “This is already humiliating enough.

“Well I guess my hand will have to suffice then,” Kent said, wiggling his fingers in an invitation.

Harvey’s heart thudded loudly and he wished he’d thought to turn on the stereo system throughout the rink. As soon as Harvey grabbed Kent’s hand the other man began leading him around the rink. Harvey stumbled on his skates and leaned heavily on their clasped hands to keep himself from falling.

After the fifth near fall he apologized to Kent, surely this wasn’t how he wanted to spend his day off.

Kent smiled up at him and either Harvey had fallen and was hallucinating or Kent just squeezed his hand. “I don’t mind,” Kent said shrugging. “You do kinda suck at this though.”

“Hey,” Harvey said indignantly, “Not all of us can be professional athletes. I would totally kick your ass doing something else.”

Kent raised an eyebrow. “Challenge accepted.”

Harvey lost his footing for a second and used both hands to cling to Kent, before righting himself. “Just tell me the time and place and you’re on.”

Kent guided them slowly around the curve, still keeping a tight grip on Harvey’s hand. “Have you ever roller bladed before?” Kent asked as Harvey tripped once more. “Because it’s kind of similar to skating.”

Harvey shook his head. Growing up he’d only been invited to an roller rink once, it was over an hour away from his house and his parents hadn’t been able to drive him. “I was more of a skateboarder than a roller blader.”  

Kent smirked at him. “Oh my god I can totally see it now. Cool as fuck Harvard Harvey skating around-”

“You do know Harvard isn’t my name, right?”

Kent waved him off, “Skateboarding in the parking lot after school. I bet you had a bunch of people drooling after you.”

Harvey shook his head, “Nah,” he said. “I was kind of an outcast. People either ignored me or picked on me. There wasn’t much in between. My roommate Tara was pretty much the only person who spoke to me up until college.” Harvey felt like he’d dragged the teasing happy mood down. He smiled and flexed his bicep. “I wasn’t born with these muscles.”

Kent laughed and squeezed his arm with the hand Harvey wasn’t holding with a deathgrip. “Damn,” Kent whistled and Harvey was going to die. “You lift.”

Harvey winked at Kent in an attempt to appear unaffected by the hand still wrapped around his upper arm. At that moment Harvey must’ve skated too wide because suddenly Kent was tripping and using the hands on him to try to regain his balance. Unfortunately for Kent, Harvey wasn’t nearly steady enough on skates for their roles to be reversed and both of them went crashing down to the ice.

Their legs tangled up in a heap and the cool ice started to dampen Harvey’s jeans. Kent was shaking and for a moment Harvey worried that he’d gotten hurt. A second later he realized Kent was laughing. He was laughing so hard no sound escaped him and Harvey felt himself start to chuckle in response.

“What’s so funny?” Harvey asked, trying and failing to detangle himself.

“I don’t think I’ve fallen skating without being checked in ten fucking years,” Kent managed to get out between guffaws. Kent wiped at the tears escaping his eyes and stood with an easy grace that would never come to Harvey no matter how much time he spent on ice. Kent extended a hand and Harvey took it gratefully.

They began skating again and while Harvey wasn’t necessarily getting the hang of it, he wasn’t jolting them every two seconds with a near fall. A few minutes later Kent broke the comfortable silence that had stretched between them.

“That’s actually how I got into hockey,” he said.

“What?”

“Bullying,” Kent explained. “I was bullied pretty bad as a kid. After coming home with a split lip and black eye for the third time since school started one fall, my mom enrolled me in a youth hockey group. She thought it might at least make the other kids lay off me a bit.”

Harvey’s heart ached picturing a scrawny blonde kid getting beat up. The bullying he’d enduring as a kid had been more of the verbal kind, though he’d had his fair share of black eyes too.

“That plan totally backfired on her though,” Kent said with a small laugh. “Hockey taught me how to fight, so instead of only me coming home with a black eye there’d be two kids all bruised up…. It was better after that though.”

Harvey squeezed Kent’s hand and hoped he wasn’t crossing a line, but when Kent’s technicolor eyes met his, he smiled.

After skating, Kent cajoled a cold and sore Harvey out to eat. (Harvey would be embarrassed to admit it took very little persuasion on Kent’s part). They ended up at a food truck a couple blocks from the rink.

“The veggie slider is really good here,” Kent said, stepping up in line to order. “Hey Charlie my man, can I get two veggies and…” Kent turned to Harvey, “What’re you getting Harvard?”

“Oh um,” Harvey said. “You don’t have to order mine for -”

Kent waved a hand at him dismissively, “My treat dude.”

“Uh the dirty joe,” Harvey said, picking the first item he saw on the menu.

“Good choice,” the guy in the truck said, taking the cash from Kent as he went into the back to grab their food. “So Kent,” he said with his back to them as he slapped a couple patties on the grill. “How’s the cat doing?”

“She’s good,” Kent smiled. “You’ll never believe what she did yesterday morning,” he said, launching into a tale involving Kit somehow managing to open Kent’s fridge and knock nearly everything from the shelves. Harvey smiled as he listened to Kent talk and marveled at how easy it was for the man to make friends.

Harvey had never been particularly popular, even once he was out of high school he’d only had a small group of friends in college - sure they were close, but he’d always wondered what it’d be like to be someone who came into a party a stranger and left everyone’s friend. He suspected Kent was someone like that.

Once they got their food Kent led them over towards a bench and plopped down in the middle. Harvey sat beside him and eyed his burger, regretting his choice as soon as he saw how ridiculously messy the burger/sloppy joe combo would be.

“So Harvard,” Kent said in between bites. “How’d you end up in Sin City?”

Harvey balanced his plate on his lap and leaned forward to take a bite of his burger, grease and sauce slipping out the back and plop plopping down onto his plate. “Um,” he said, trying to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, “I grew up just outside of Vegas in Henderson. I moved to California for school and lived there for a couple years after I graduated, but,” he shrugged, “my grandma wasn’t doing too well so I came back home almost three years ago now and have been here ever since.”

“How’s your grandma now?” Kent asked softly.

“She passed on a few months after I came home.”

Kent wrapped his fingers around Harvey’s wrist and squeezed. He opened his mouth, about to apologize Harvey knew, but he cut him off.

“Jeez bullying, dead relatives, I’m really doing a good job with the small talk today.”

Kent smiled at him and released Harvey’s wrist, taking a big bite out of his burger. “Well it could be worse,” Kent’s eyes lit up mischievously. “You could have ordered the messiest food in the world and be trying really hard not to be a slob but actually have food on your nose.”

Harvey swiped at his nose with the back of his hand, cheeks heating.

Kent laughed, “You definitely just made it ten times worse.”

Harvey groaned. “Well feel free to leave me to my shame. It was nice being friends with you while it lasted, I had hoped to make it to hanging out at least twice but…” Harvey smiled and shrugged in a what can you do sort of gesture.

Kent handed Harvey a napkin and smiled. “Nah bro, you can’t get rid of me that easily. This is the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

Harvey wiped the napkin across his nose and glanced at Kent surreptitiously. He wondered for the first time if having a ton of friends meant not having any close ones. He wanted to be there for Kent, if the man let him.

The following Friday Harvey went out clubbing with Tara. It had been far too long since either of them had been to a bar, according to her, and Harvey had learned a long time ago that it was best to agree with her, especially when it came to alcohol.

He and Kent had gotten the chance to hang out a couple more times since they went ice skating, with Harvey bribing Leo, the mechanical tech, to watch things for him so he could take his lunch when Kent did. Introducing the guy to his sister in exchange would definitely be worth it, especially since he’d been planning on doing so anyway.  But tonight he wanted to let loose and release the sexual tension he’d been carrying around with him ever since he’d caught Kent naked in the locker room and maybe make out with a cute definitely not straight boy.

They were out at a not-not-gay bar that was at the edge of the strip and usually populated by a mixture of locals and tourists alike. He and Tara were scoping the bar for cute guys when she dragged him out onto the dance floor.

“Don’t look now but there’s a hottie at two o’clock,” she said, pointing in a direction that was most definitely not at two o’clock for either of them, but Harvey wasn’t about to call her out on it.

“For you or for me,” he asked, not turning to look at the guy.

Tara’s grin turned predatory as she slung her arms around his neck and ground her body into his. “Me, definitely.”

Tara’s method of getting guys to approach her often involved dancing seductively with Harvey while making bedroom eyes at the guy and/or completely ignoring him until he cut in. The first time she did it Harvey was certain his presence would scare the other guy away, but time and again it worked, so either Harvey gave off super gay vibes, or Tara dancing was hot enough that they were willing to risk being punched in the face for a chance with her. Harvey thought it was the latter.

For him, on the other hand, dancing with Tara - while sexy and fun - scared off more guys than it attracted, especially when they were at a place like this where it wasn’t guaranteed any guy there was gay. He didn’t mind though, he needed at least two more drinks before he was willing to find a guy for himself anyway. So for now he wrapped his hands low on Tara’s waist and ground their hips together in time with the music.

Tara shifted them both until he was standing where she had been, presumably facing the guy whose attention she was trying to attract. Tara leaned forward, and to anyone watching them it probably looked like she was nibbling on his ear.

“The guy on the far right of the group in the back by the bar. Tall, dark haired and fucking built.”

Tara spun quickly in his arms so her ass was pressed up against his crotch and dropped low before pulling back up in a slow sensual move that would likely have sent any straight man in the room’s heart racing. She tilted her head back and looked up at him as though she weren’t at all interested in anyone else. Harvey glanced away from her to search for the guy she was talking about, swaying with her to the music all the while.

His hips stuttered and he lost the rhythm for a moment as he caught the gaze of the guy she undoubtedly had her eye on.

“That’s Jeff Troy,” his voice sounded high pitched and weird. The music was suddenly too loud as his gaze shifted from Troy to the man standing beside him. Kent wasn’t looking at the dance floor, his face half hidden as he whispered furiously in Jeff’s ear, but even with the obstructed view Harvey was positive it was him.

“Like from the Aces?” Tara asked, whipping her gaze back toward the men. “Oh my god I didn’t even recognize him.” They both were horribly off beat by now and Harvey dropped his hands from her waist completely. No point in keeping up the pretense.

“Want me to introduce you?” he asked, stepping away from the sweaty pulsing bodies on the dance floor.

“Oh my god,” Tara said again, covering her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing he probably thinks I’m some crazy fan and like stalking him or something oh my -”

Harvey put his hands on her shoulders to calm her and fought the urge to smile at the knowledge that the stoic woman wasn’t so unruffled after all. “Relax Tara,” Harvey said, “Jeff is a pretty chill guy and he definitely won’t think some random person dancing with another guy is stalking him.”

“Oh you’re totally right,” Tara said, face flushing, “This is so embarrassing. Leave me, save yourself and let me stew in my shame.”

“Oh my god Tara,” Harvey said laughing. “Just come meet the guy.”

Tara looked about ready to flee, but Harvey took her hand and began weaving his way through the crowd, leading her over towards the handful of Las Vegas Aces at the bar. By the time they reached the Aces, every one of the guys had their eyes on Tara, including Kent, which definitely didn’t make Harvey’s stomach sink a little or anything.

“Hey Harvard,” Mottler said, bumping his fist. Ever since he’d started talking to Kent, the other Aces had seemed to suddenly notice Harvey's existence. “How’s it going man?” Mottler’s voice was slightly slurred and he was rather openly ogling Tara, not that she even noticed. Her hand was wrapped around his in a vice like grip and her eyes were locked onto the floor before her.

“Good, good.” He glanced at Kent and the man looked pissed. Harvey had to fight the urge to duck away from his gaze. “How’re you guys doing, celebrating the night off?” He went to release Tara’s hand, but she just squeezed it harder. Kent’s gaze flicked down their hands before back up to meet his.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kent asked low and venomous. Harvey shrunk back.

“Um,” he flicked a glance at the other Aces before looking back to Kent. “Dancing with Tara since this is a club?”

Kent’s face twisted into a scowl and Tara side stepped closer to Harvey. Without a word Kent turned on his heel and stormed off into the crowd. Jeff, finally shaken from his trance called after Kent before turning to them apologetically.

“Sorry,” he said, as the other Aces returned to scanning the club. “He already wasn’t having a good night since we’re headed to Providence tomorrow to play the Falconer’s Sunday, and well,” he shrugged gesturing to Tara and Harvey in a way that had Harvey’s buzzed brain struggling to catch up.

“We’re not together,” Tara said, releasing her death grip on Harvey’s hand. And Harvey was Confused with a capital C.

“Oh,” Jeff said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I’m Jeffrey Troy.”

“Oh shit, sorry,” Harvey said, “This is my roommate Tara Marsden. Tara, Swoops.”

Tara reached out to shake his hand and let her fingers linger longer than Harvey thought necessary, though it didn’t seem Swoops minded. When it seemed like Tara and Troy were content to stand there staring at one another indefinitely Harvey cleared his throat.

“So what’s up with Kent?” he asked, hoping he sounded casual.

Jeff shook himself before elbowing Mottler. “Yo man, go find Parser and tell him to stop being an asshole and come meet Harvard’s roommate. ”

Mottler nodded before disappearing into the crowd. A few moments later he returned with a chagrined looking Parson in tow.

“Sorry,” Kent said to Harvey’s shoes. “I was in a pissy mood and I didn’t mean to take it out on you, or your friend,” he added, glancing at Tara and offering her a small smile. “Can we start over? I’m Kent Parson,” he said, reaching out a hand.

Tara took his hand graciously and shook it. “Tara Marsden.”

After introducing himself, Kent turned to Harvey and pulled him away from the group a bit. “I really am sorry Corbin.”

Harvey jolted at the use of his first name, but before Harvey could assure him it was fine, Kent continued on.

“I have impulse issues and I need to learn to reign in my temper and apologize when I screw up. I have to own up to my own issues and stop lashing out when other people act in ways I don’t expect,” he recited as though it were a script. He sent Harvey a tentative grin. “It only took half a decade of therapy to get to this point.”

Harvey clasped Kent on the shoulder and offered him a smile. “We’re good Kent.”

Tara and Jeff had been chatting almost non-stop since they’d been introduced, but after getting a couple more drinks, Harvey touched Tara’s elbow to interrupt, because he was really in the mood to kiss a cute boy and that was a dangerous thought to be having when standing less than two feet away from Kent Parson.

“Wanna dance?” he asked, trying to tell her with his eyes that he really really needed her to say yes.

Tara could read his look better than anyone. He could read hers just as easily and she desperately wanted to keep talking to Jeff but he knew she would say yes anyway.

That is, at least until Jeff interrupted. “You should dance with Parser,” he said, eyes lighting up with mischievousness. “Because he sucks at dancing and could definitely use some guidance.”

Harvey turned to glance at Kent, whose face was flushed a deep red, whether from alcohol or embarrassment Harvey couldn’t tell. He smiled at him, “I could teach you if you want, return the ice skating favor.” Harvey shrugged.

This was possibly the dumbest idea he’d ever had. He was just thinking that he needed to get further from Kent and now he was inviting the other man closer. Luckily the kind of dancing Kent would want to do was not the kind of dancing he’d been doing with Tara. Still, his only hope was that Kent would say no.

“Okay,” Kent said with a shrug before walking out onto the dance floor without waiting for Harvey to follow.

“You good here Tara?” Harvey asked.

Tara rolled her eyes at him good naturedly and gave him a firm shove towards the dance floor. Harvey’s heart thudded anxiously as he made his way through the pulsing shifting bodies through to the center of the dance floor where Kent was doing something that was probably considered dancing in some cultures.

Kent’s eyes lit up when he saw Harvey and grabbed his hand to pull him closer.  Kent’s hand was warm and his smile happy and Harvey’s heart gave a traitorous ba-bump. He was in trouble.

“Okay big guy,” Kent said, releasing Harvey’s hand. “Show me your moves.”

Harvey let the music flow through him and began dancing how he would when he went out with the straight guys he’d been friends with in college - keeping a safe amount of space between himself and Kent.

Kent watched him for a moment before doing a weird shuffle-jig that looked a little too much like how the characters in Charlie Brown danced. Harvey smiled unabashedly at the ridiculousness of the moment. He was in a club with Kent Parson who - while perhaps the hottest human being to roam the planet - was the most unsexy dancer Harvey had ever seen. He almost wondered if Kent danced with exaggerated awkwardness on purpose.

“What are you doing?” he asked, half shouting to be heard over the music.

Kent stopped the weird up and down hand motion he’d been doing and stepped closer to Harvey. Harvey tried to backup, but he bumped into someone and was jostled from behind.

“Hey, if you don’t like my dancing then teach me.” Kent’s eyes were sharp, flashing gold in green.

“Well just do what I’m doing,” Harvey said, letting his hips swing to the beat, exaggerating the motion for Kent to copy.

Kent shook his head and stepped even closer, so he and Harvey were nearly touching. Kent tilted his head up to look at him and wrapped an arm loosely around his neck. Harvey couldn’t breathe. He was going to die of sexual frustration in the back of a Vegas nightclub with Kent freaking Parson as his witness.

Kent pulled slightly on the back of his neck and Harvey ducked down to oblige him. Kent leaned up on his tiptoes and he was going to kiss him - Harvey was sure of it. Kent was going to kiss him in the middle of a crowded club. He sucked in a shaky breath, eyes already half lidded in anticipation.

But instead of closing the gap between their mouths, Kent diverted his path and spoke directly into his ear. “I want you to teach me how to dance like you were before.”

Harvey wasn’t sure he’d heard Kent right, he was kind of drunk and his brain was slow to catch up. How would he be helpful in teaching Kent how to dance with girls? He started to ask how, before Kent dropped down off his tiptoes and swung his other arm up around Harvey’s neck and began moving his hips only slightly off beat.

Instinct took over and Harvey’s hands dropped down to Kent’s waist, guiding him so they moved together, delicious and slow. And maybe he had no idea what was going on but he didn’t care because Kent was in his arms.

They danced together, Kent slowly getting better at staying on beat and Harvey slowly getting bolder. The rest of the room melted away as he thrust his hips forward, grinding them together with Kent’s. Kent’s fingers drifted up to scratch through his hair and Harvey was on fire. Kent’s face flushed with pleasure as they moved together, his lips parted almost in invitation and it took everything in him to remember that Kent was straight and no matter what the two of them were doing together tonight on the dance floor nothing would change that.

Kent dropped low and stood slowly, body brushing against Harvey’s enticingly. When their eyes met Harvey stepped back out of Kent’s embrace hastily. He was hard. He was dancing with a straight man and he was rock fucking hard. Harvey felt a wave of embarrassment wash up over him. He mumbled something about air and ran.

Part Two

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 42 - BOS - BosDone

Wow. I have not wanted to completely ignore a Buffalo Sabres game this much since the depths of despair last season. My wife and I were getting back from a dinner when I looked and saw the score was 2-0 Boston and the second period had hardly begun. I proceeded to take care of my sick wife thinking to myself: Am I going to turn on this game? Would I be a bad fan, unworthy of the blog I’m writing to not turn on this game? I told myself I would watch the third period and whoopsy I forgot. This game had moments late in third but was there any part of it that was can’t-miss television… when the World Juniors Final is also an option? I’m not saving that for the P.S. today: this WJC Final was actually a profound win-win-win as one tweeter pointed out. If the Finnish win, that’s our boys UPL and Laaskonen; if the USA win, PATRIOTISM! Third win: Canada didn’t even medal so eat that. UPL got some big time attention and it is so awesome to have a Sabres goaltending prospect get attention… ugh, I just remembered the goaltending narrative I was trying to push going into this Boston game… ugh… do I have to talk about the Sabres game? Can I get like one or two free spaces this season? Shit, I’m going to talk about it. Gee, it seems Buffalo is just Bos-done at this point! My friggin puns aren’t even landing right now. The Sabres are only in a playoff spot as I write this because the Habs lost! The playoff odds just dropped below 50% didn’t they? UGH… can Jeff Skinner resign already so I have something else to talk about?

This game started off with a little wrinkle to keep you watching. Chris Wagner cleaned up a Bruins rebound and thought he got the goal. It got called back for perhaps the most obvious goaltender interference you’ll see this season. Then about ten minutes later Chris Wagner picks off Rasmus Dahlin’s most egregious defensive zone turnover yet and shot it past Linus Ullmark before he had a chance to see it. You might think, oh, might there be an opportunity for the Sabres to respond? Nope. What about on the powerplay? No, you’re funny. Not only nope but the refs put their whistles away until late in the third when it most benefited the Bruins to take em out. David Backes scored a goal in the second in his first game back from suspension because the Hockey Gods enjoy our suffering. Not only that but Ullmark looked bad on that goal. He said afterward: “I guess I didn’t hide the cookie well enough.” Dear lord, Linus, if I did not have your sense of humor right now I do not know how I would’ve wrote this friggin blog right now. That’s all that really needs to be said about the second period. The third is when the visitors finally showed some life. Well… with less than three minutes left. Rasmus Ristolainen got the puck in the neutral zone on a Bruins line change and walked it in like this game wasn’t a train wreck in its concluding act. He put one high on Tuuka Rask and killed the shutout unassisted. Most of the Sabres shots in this final frame came in this last 2:38 of the game as Sabres fans thought maybe this wasn’t a complete disaster. It was and the Sabres lose 2-1 to Bos-done and looked awful doing it. Remember when the Sabres were winning close games in November like a top 5 team in the NHL? Oh yea, those were the days, eh?

So what did we learn? Either goaltender is going to struggle when they got jack-shit for goal support. Sure, Ullmark didn’t look immaculate for most of this game but geez, guys: one goal he didn’t see because it was a turnover 4 seconds before it was in his net and the other was well… him feeling like jack-shit. Speaking of Jack: has this game proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jack Eichel is the Buffalo Sabres? There are too many retired numbers for a club 49 years without a Stanley Cup but Jack could retire now and get his number raised to the rafters. If Eichel was in this game tell me he wouldn’t have scored. Tell me, you coward! You can’t because he would’ve: the guy likes to score in his hometown Boston more than New Englanders think Tom Brady isn’t a shitty human being. How many times during this game would Jack Eichel have turned it around? A tying goal in the first, a response goal in the second, a fucking tying goal in the third, a fucking game winner in OT with a fist bump into the air like he just won the fucking BEANPOT! Holy shit, he would’ve scored two goals by himself and changed the atmosphere entirely! Luckily we now know he’s skating again so whatever it was he’s near returning. I’m going to the Devils game on Tuesday praying he’s back for that because somehow Devils games never go well for Buffalo. What else did we learn? Casey Mittelstadt maybe a good top line fill-in for Jack more than Rodrigues. Hmm, we’ll sit on that one. What else… Secondary scoring is still shitty shitty shit. Ah, I hate that actually have something to say about that.

So I’ve read at least three articles, one from WGR and at least one from Die By the Blade that maybe this theoretical trade before the deadline for a second line center or winger who can score isn’t dead-on-arrival strategically. Yes, I am on record as saying I would prefer not to give up one of the first round picks for a guy who might only play second line center until Casey Mittelstadt becomes Casey Mittelstadt. The kicker there and through all these articles on the matter is that Jason Botterill knows he’s not using one of those firsts for anyone who isn’t under team control for 3+ years and young. With each passing loss I feel more and more inclined to hop on the bandwagon cheering for that trade. Honestly I’m beginning to wonder if they don’t make this trade if their playoff chances are Bos-done. This Sabres team has a great first line and fourth line most nights, the middle six not so much. Not every role demands a trade to be filled, there are guys in Rochester who will fill gaps, but we got to be pulling for that trade now. There is no stretch between now and the deadline that looks easy. This time next week the Sabres will be in Western Canada, tell me the Pacific Division leading Flames aren’t licking their lips to cook up bison meat right now.

Yes: like, comment and share this blog, even in the shitty times. That’s what we’re all about here: taking a New Look at the Sabres. I am going to end on a fun note: we’re in the second half of the season now and with that comes “If we met in the Playoffs” for each Eastern Conference team. So this playoff series could actually happen if the Sabres can get there. The Bruins: they’re all bark no bite. Boston is a one line show and although that one line show is currently doing better than Buffalo’s one line show, the Bruins have a penchant for playoff failure. If Sabres meet Bruins in the playoffs, first round or not, they’re putting the B’s aging defense in the retirement home. Brad Marchand and Rasmus Ristolainen would almost certainly throw hands in a playoff series and I for one relish the yet unseen playoffs Jack Eichel destroying playoffs Tuuka Rask. Could you imagine what Captain Jack beating his childhood team in the playoffs would look like? If Jack didn’t spring wings and fly like a Red Bull commercial in this series it would be unbelievable. Sabres in 7! Oh, that felt nice to write. Happy New Year one last time; I hope this year sees fewer of these games and more November-type Sabres games.

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Canadians whining about the World Juniors is now one of my favorite January traditions.

[a-mist-in-the-trees]

My Favorite Beauty and the Beast Things

Review: Beauty and the Beast (2017)

                       ·         Note: will update this once it comes out on DVD and I can add gifs.

·         To start off, I genuinely think this is the best Disney remake yet, it keeps the heart and best moments of the original while improving the story, developing the characters even more and making it its own with a few new moments.

·         It's always difficult adapting an originally animated feature into live-action, technicalities and such that are sometimes impossible since you can do literally anything in animation and it's rarely questioned. In addition, this is a fairy-tale, logic and reality isn't 100% there. So some random character tendencies are glossed over a bit. They really improved the overall story with filling in a few plot-holes, little details that wouldn't have made sense in a live-action version. They brought a good measurement of realism while still keeping the beloved enchantment of the original. Adam was given a little more a back story, as well as Belle, and brought alittle bit more weight of the impending curse by taking away everyone's humanity if all had failed.

·         The opening was very orchestrated and well-narrated in explaining some of the plot holes away, but I still prefer the stain glass, it was so beautiful with David's gentle voice narrating. Although, it was nice actually seeing it play out. <3

·         Audra McDonald is queen. Right next to Julie Andrews.

·         The enchantress just barging in cause it's odd that a prince would answer his own door. A+ to Stephen Chbosky & Evan Spiliotopoulos.

·         I loved how even in the beginning of the film, we don't see Adam's real face until the end with Belle, with all that rococo make up and such. Just beautiful details.

·         The script was very well written, with its foreshadowing and subtleties especially.

·         I didn't know about anyone besides a few cast members (Emma, Josh and Luke) so it was ever a surprise when I saw Stanley and Audra at the beginning and Ewan and Ian at the end. :)

·         "....athletically inclined."

·         I understand the criticism with Emma's voice being "auto tuned." I personally wouldn't say auto tuned, maybe a little too unnaturally polished but I would give her some slack. She's not a professional singer, it's just softer in comparison to Paige O'Hara's Broadway experience. I do think it was better than having another singer on top of her acting, although debatable as that is, I think that would've been less well-received than what she gave us.

         "Busy?" "...No."

·         "It is love we must hold onto / Never easy, but we try."

·         I like the addition that Belle is an inventor, it really adds a good sweetness and endearment to her and Maurice's relationship and it doesn't overshadow her character as a whole. She still mostly loves books.

·         The placement of belle and her father's house was a little odd though, just in the middle of the square like that, I'm sure Gaston wasn't the only one to step on her cabbages, accidentally of course.

·         "...his little wife. UGH!"

·         I loved the small addition of Maurice getting Belle a rose, that's a nice nod to the original version of the tale by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont and it does come back around more logically when Belle takes Maurice's place in the dungeon.

·         Even the wolves felt more like their own characters, I really love the theory that they are the castle guards.

·         Oh my gosh, the castle was so ridiculously rococo, I couldn't stand it! <3

·         "Forget you? Everything I am is because of you."

·         Emma's Belle was very well-done. In her acting, she brought a bold confidence to Belle. She's a lot more assertive in her actions and of course, headstrong, in addition to Belle's kindness and bravery that we all know and love.

·         I was very surprised how Belle replacing her father in the dungeon scene was written, it was very different but I won't say better and I'll explain why. I liked how different they were, again partially separating itself from the original but still paying tribute to it. LA: Belle is more physical in her sacrifice, pushing Maurice out of the cell whereas A: Belle was more decisive and made a deal and gave her word that she wouldn't leave. That took a lot of courage and I'm not preferring one over the other because that's impossible, just acknowledging how different the two are even while they're the same character. I guess, I relate more to A: Belle's decision making where LA: Belle's quick-witted actions I look up to. Because of how that scene was orchestrated, it also bleeds into the differences of LA: Belle beating Lumiere with a stool and devising a plan to escape as soon as she got to her room and A: Belle making a deal and being given a tour by the beast on the way to her room as sad as she is. I feel like the original made more sense in that regard, but that's just me.

·         Love how Belle asks him to come into the light and he doesn't so she brings the light to him.

·         "Forever can spare a minute."

·         I loved that the feather duster was also an enchanted flying bird, that was a beautiful and elegantly magical surprise.

·         The effects of the magic mirror were a little too small which made it look weird to me.

·         I felt that Be Our Guest was a little too focused on Lumiere and explosive with him flipping and dabbing everywhere (yeah, I caught that), just not as colorful as the original, but I do understand with how much detail they put into the set and costume design that an exact replica might've been too expensive to animate, which fits since it's not meant to be a carbon copy of the original anyway. ·         As much as I would've loved to see Human Again in the live action version, Days in the Sun was incredible. Plus that would be a lot of enchanted objects to render.

·         "Days in the sun / Where my life had barely begun / Will I have leave you?"

         "How in the midst of all this sorrow / Can so much hope and love endure."

·         "I can feel a change in me. I'm stronger now, but still not free."

·         All the little subtleties really made this remake shine.

·         I was a little disappointed that the "Gaston trio" all looked the same and didn't have their different colored dresses but never mind... ;) and the girls do have their own individual patterns in you look close enough.

·         I was surprised that Gaston actually went with Maurice to see about the beast, he did start off as an okay guy...but then he ties him up...

·         "You need to help me. You need to stand."

·         "...Okay, I'm older."

·         The addition of the enchanted book was interesting, but aside from helping with belle's back-story more, felt a little unnecessary or just one too many magical items given by the enchantress. (She really wanted to torture the beast, didn't she?) But I do like that it was a nod to the Enchanted Christmas sequel where Belle gives Beast a book. :3 I still love the song Stories so much and the animation!!!

·         "These were the borders of my life / In this crumbling, dusty attic / Where an artist loved his wife / Easy to remember, harder to move on / Knowing the Paris of my childhood is gone."

·         "Let's go home." ...and then he just melts. :3

·         I never thought the addition of the back-story for Belle's mother and how Beast acts (his mother as well) would affect the tale so beautifully. It never crossed my mind how much of a deeper connection that would establish for the two of them until that scene with the book came on screen. Just beautiful writing, I can't say anymore without crying. (Trust me, I've cried enough over the perfection of this movie already.)

·         One of my favorite scenes: The Beast and Belle eating dinner and reading their books together at the table like they're already married. Just...happy sigh. :3

·         Chip is adorable, I liked that they gave him an older voice.

·         Josh Gad was brilliant as always.

·         Luke Evan's Gaston was well executed and just not in looks. (Points to Lucy Bevan for casting!) I liked that they gave him alittle more depth as well, with being in the war and a little more cruel than in the original, again bringing more realism and makes him more grounded as a true villain..or just a monster as Belle said.

·         They even made Lefou a more prominent character than just the villain's sidekick I love it so much! He had such a redemption arc and realized HE can do better than Gaston. ;-) 

·         "There's a beast running wild, there's no question / But I fear the wrong monster's released." I like this too much. Chills.

·         "We don't like what we don't understand / In fact, it scares us / And this monster is mysterious at least." Wow.

·         Belle and Adam's relationship was well fleshed out more. They have such adorable banter! It was brilliance. I loved how they related to each other through books. It creates a better basis for their relationship. Even though I also love how belle taught beast how to read, they're just two different types of relationships. Good relationships, but different. 

·         He just gives Belle an entire library because he doesn't like her taste in books! Like oh my gosh, Adam... you beast.....wait.

·         As much as I loved the library scene in the LA version, I can't get over how sweet the original is, just look at how happy the beast is because she's happy! :3

·         The emphasis on the Beast's very expense education and him being widely read does well in this version making him relate easier to belle and makes more sense in general I guess but I would argue for the sake of the original, which does have the 10 years stamp on it, that the Beast even said himself in Human Again that it's been so long since he's last read anything. If the last time he did read was when he was still human at 10-11 with how much of a despair and depression he fell into after being cursed, I would say it's understandable and it helps him and Belle form a connection with her patiently teaching him. How to read and fall in love.

·         "I never thanked you for saving my life." I love this line cause of how much it can have a double meaning.

·         "I saw her in the ballroom and said we should have a dance tonight, I'd never imagined she'd say yes!" HAHA! AWWW!!! :333333

·         I see nothing wrong with the dress, it was beautiful. It flowed very nicely and I loved in the scene, the animation of the golden flecks being added to the hem. That ear cuff was dope too.

·         As much as I love you Emma Thompson, I'm sorry but you don't hold a candle to Angela Lansbury. But you still did very nicely. :)

·         "Can anyone be happy if they aren't free?"

·         One thing that bothered me a bit was how it seemed they made Belle feel so bad whenever she tried to leave the castle, even towards the end with her father. Like, really? That never felt like an issue in the original.

·         All of Evermore. Thank you Alan Menken, and Dan Stevens.

·         "Waiting here, fore evermore..." and the long zoom out with the last shot being Belle riding away still in her dress and then sudden black and the ORCESTRA! :D So perfect.

·         “I set her free. I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for all of you.”

·         WHY DID MISS POTTS TAKE AWAY THE BEAST LINE AT THE END!!! IT WAS SO POWERFUL, EVEN IF WE ALREADY KNOW HE WAS SUPPOSED TO SAY "BECAUSE I LOVE HER", UGHHHH!!

·         I prefer Gaston using a knife instead of a gun when fighting Beast, the stab was more imitate. Also, three gun shots, geez!

·         The ending was a little off to me. I kept waiting for Belle is say I love you and then the last petal fell and everyone froze but the enchantress just waltz in and is like "I'll just fix everything now." Like, what?! I thought they were going to pull an evil frozon-hans card and just leave it there but whatever. I don't know...maybe I'm ruminate over it a little more but that's just how I feel about it at the moment.

·         [From: destielydia.tumblr.com: You know what I LOVE about the transformation scene? Adam waits for Belle to come to him. He just stays where he stands, he stays still because he doesn’t want to scare her. She is the one who takes the first step because he still gives her a chance to go away. That’s how much he respects and loves her. But you can see everything in his eyes - how much he wants to finally touch her gently with his real human hands, finally, and not to be worried about hurting Belle. His eyes have some true excitement in them and love and I’m crying I love Adam and Belle."]

I love this as well, it’s a wonderful parallel to the dance scene when Belle offers her hands to him and lets him come to her.

·         I think Emma did wonderfully originating her role as Belle. Paige O'Hara and Susan Egan gave their blessings so if you didn't like her, go enjoy the original animated feature.

·         Ewan, you stole my heart at Moulin Rouge! So you were golden..or is he brass?

·         "How would you feel about growing a beard?"

·         Oh my, that growl...I can just imagine how many dirty fanfiction is written based on that moment.

·         The addition of the new songs were wonderful. :)

·         The costume and set design was just magnificent and so beautifully detailed, I have no other words.

·         Also I'd like to point out how wonderful it is there are two interracial couples in this movie with at least three more movies featuring them coming out this year. Yay.

·         Why is no one talking about Belle's wedding dress at the end though?! It's so beautifully and simply white with all the freakin' roses on it!!?!!?!!?!

·         As for a note on the gay moment at the end, I am so happy that all I saw previewed for this before seeing it in theaters was the teaser trailer cause they blew it way out of proportion. I mean, it's pretty obvious that LeFou is gay right from the beginning, the Stanley moment was cute and funny and then the literal 3-second moment that brought them together was cute. That's all I have to say.

·         Personally, some of the minor continuity errors that people analyzed from the original, I didn't give a whole lot of attention to because it's simply a fairy tale. (how belle lifted the beast onto her house after being attacked, why the villagers didn't know they have a cursed prince, the Eiffel Tower, etc.) That's almost like saying, "oh, why is Tarzan riding a high wheeler in the jungle? That's so impractical!" It's just a form of imagery for the scene but I digress and in spite of that, the corrections really improved the characters and helped form a complete story.

·         I love how they brought Celine Dion back to sing an end credits song, it's so nice. :)

·         Even the end credits are stunning!

I just really hope they reconsider not keeping the songs in the Mulan remake. Even if, as Chris Weitz said [http://www.hypable.com/disney-cutting-songs/], it is easier to do animated musical Disney movies, the new Beauty and the Beast proved that you can do it and do it well. Which is more than I can say for the Cinderella remake they did in 2015. The casting was spot on but if you take away what made the original the classic that it is, it won't be received kindly.

[animationnut]

To Gravity Falls, From Piedmont: Chapter 26

Summary: It’s a long way until next summer. Until then, Dipper   and Mabel share their daily antics and life problems with their lifelong friends and attentive great-uncles through an endless string of   e-mails. Distance makes the heart grow fonder after all, and there’s no place Dipper and Mabel love more than Gravity Falls. Note: I didn't finish it in time but have an April Fools chapter.

                                                    Chapter List

To: GF Crew (10+ contacts in this group)

From: Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick)

Subject: Good morning

The sun is shining, the sky is blue, birds are singing and to top it all off, it's Saturday. I hope everyone has a great day. I know I will.

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Dipper Pines: Who are you and what have you done with Wendy?

Robbie Valentino: No. No, no, no. no.

Pacifica Northwest: If anyone comes near me today, especially the lumberjack, I'll sue.

Gideon Gleeful: I've never been able to prove she was the one who filled the Tent of Telepathy with bats last year…

Soos Ramirez: And the horror begins. I think I'll lock the Shack up for the day.

Stanley Pines: Oi, don't even think about it! Don't let her scare you. I never once closed the Mystery Shack on this stupid holiday.

Mabel Pines: Oh, yeah, it's April Fools Day!

Dipper Pines: So I'm gonna go ahead and gather from your reactions that Wendy is Gravity Falls' ultimate prankster on the first of April.

Fiddleford McGucket: She's crazier than a one-eyed loon with no feathers.

Robbie Valentino: You know all the pranks she pulled during the summer? Yeah, she goes on a spree this day. No one is safe.

Candy Chiu: I think I have spotted her first victim!

Grenda Gosling: Yeah, we were in town and saw that Blubs' and Durland's police cruiser was filled with ping-pong balls and the outside is covered with duct tape.

Dipper Pines: Is she crazy? She can get arrested for that!

Fiddleford McGucket: Only if they catch her. Which they never do.

Robbie Valentino: Aw man, she's already loose.

Stanford Pines: This is one tradition I am fine with missing out on.

Stanley Pines: This is the first year I can laugh at you losers instead of keeping on my guard.

Mabel Pines: This is going to be interesting!

Dipper Pines: Or someone might die.

Pacifica Northwest: Hasn't happened yet, so we're probably due.

Candy Chiu: Good luck everyone!

Grenda Gosling: We're gonna need it.

Grabbing a dark green towel from the linen closet, Robbie shuffled towards the bathroom. He took a moment to pause near the staircase and holler, "If Wendy shows up, don't let her in!"

"But she's such a nice girl," his mother returned, voice drifting from the direction of the kitchen. "Are you fighting?"

"Today? Heck yes. It's April Fool's Day! I don't want to see her until tomorrow."

He spun on his heel and stormed into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He turned on the water and stepped under the hot spray, his muscles relaxing slightly from the soothing sensation. He squirted his shampoo into the palm of his hand and started working it into his raven strands. Every little noise caused him to jump and yank back the curtain to glare at the firmly-shut door.

"I hate this holiday," he grumbled. He shuddered as he recalled what she had done last year—shaving his hair into a rough version of a buzzcut. He had been very tempted to retaliate by cutting off her hair, but feared her revenge.

After a few minutes lathering and rinsing, he cut off the water and stepped out of the stall, using his towel to dry off. He rubbed at his damp hair, freezing when a clump of hair fell over his eye. Straightening, he hastily scrubbed the steam off of the mirror and stared at his reflection, dumbstruck by the tangled purple locks of hair that now dominated his head.

"Mom! Did Wendy come over before I woke up?!"

"No, hon, she came yesterday when you were out! She said you still had one of her CDs!"

This wasn't technically a lie, since Robbie was still hoarding a few of the music discs he had borrowed. The fact that it was the perfect excuse to gain access to the bathroom and tamper with his hair products caused agitation to swell within him.

"Wendy!"

To: GF Crew (10+ contacts in this group)

From: Robbie Valentino (EternalDarkness)

Subject: I hate this

1 Attachment (Photo File)

Yeah, she got me, ha ha. I hope you're having a good laugh, Wendy. You're paying to get this fixed.

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Mabel Pines: It's a good colour on you!

Dipper Pines: At least it's not pink.

Robbie Valentino: My only solace of this monstrosity.

Pacifica Northwest: Did you not look at your shampoo before you used it?

Robbie Valentino: It looked the same!

Fiddleford McGucket: And one of us has been hit. The war has started.

Stanford Pines: Is this day always as dramatic as you are making it out to be?

Fiddleford McGucket: Yes.

Stanley Pines: It's a good look for you, punk.

Robbie Valentino: Ugh. I hate everything.

Adjusting the collar of his blue tuxedo, Gideon appraised his appearance critically for a moment before giving a nod of satisfaction. He reached for his container of gel, dipping his fingers into the clear substance and beginning to massage it into his hair.

When the white blonde strands were coated, he picked up his comb and raked it through. His brow furrowed when it refused to move through his hair and tried pulling it out, only to discover that it was stuck.

"What the—?"

He suddenly thought back to Wendy's frighteningly cheerful e-mail and his heart dropped to his stomach. Gideon walked out of the bathroom and into the living room, where his father was reading his newspaper.

"I don't suppose you've seen Wendy this mornin'?" he said with a calmness he did not feel inside.

"No, but she came by yesterday," said Bud cheerfully. "Dropped off some hair gel for ya. It's nice to see that ya have such nice friends." He looked up and his smile twisted into a perplexed expression when he noticed the plastic comb trapped in his son's thick hair. "Is that a new trend or somethin'?"

"Or somethin'," returned Gideon, his left eye beginning to twitch. "Excuse me for a moment."

To: GF Crew (10+ contacts in this group)

From: Gideon Gleeful (LilGideon)

Subject: This ain't funny

1 Attachment (Photo File)

If I have to shave my head so it's as bald as a newborn babe I'm going to have a relapse. Wendy girl, you can mess with my business, but you cross a line when you sabotage my hair. I will have my revenge.

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Robbie Valentino: Check your hair products, people.

Grenda Gosling: Dude. If you go bald I won't be able to look at you. It'd be too weird.

Stanley Pines: It's not easy to look at him now, don't see how losing his hair would make any difference.

Gideon Gleeful: I'm not in the mood for your insults, Stanley. I have a crisis to fix!

Mabel Pines: Some dish soap will get that right out. Leave it in for an hour and keep your hair in a towel. Rinse it out and wash with shampoo.

Dipper Pines: She has gotten numerous items stuck in her hair. She's the expert.

Gideon Gleeful: You're an angel, Mabel.

Stanley Pines: Don't get creepy.

Extending her right hand, Pacifica inspected the rose-pink polish coating her nails, searching for any imperfections. Deeming it acceptable, she blew lightly, hoping to speed up the drying process. She had to pamper herself these days, her parents refusing to let her continue with her daily salon trips.

"Pacifica!"

Rolling her eyes on instinct at the sound of her father's demanding call, she returned, "Yes?"

"We're going to the country club for breakfast. Hurry and get ready."

"Okay."

Swinging her legs over the edge of her bed Pacifica stood and went over to her wardrobe. With the hand that held dry nail polish she opened the door to study her fashion choices. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of her silk shirts, frilly dresses and pleated skirts knotted together. Thinking that perhaps she was imagining things, she yanked off a cream cashmere sweater from its hanger. A slew of clothes followed after it, trailing like a chain.

"Actually, I'm going to stay home," she managed to shout, anger just barely being contained as she stared at her wrinkled and (as far as she was concerned) ruined clothes. "I have nothing to wear."

Oh, she is not going to get away with this.

To: GF Crew (10+ contacts in this group)

From: Pacifica Northwest (GravityFallsPrincess)

Subject: Oh no she didn't

1 Attachment (Photo File)

The first couple of pranks she pulled were funny, but this is so not cool. Do you know how much these cost? If I see a single tear or hole you're paying for a replacement. I hope the Shack pays you enough for silk and cashmere!

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Stanley Pines: I can vouch that there is no way Wendy will be able to replace your fancy European clothes.

Soos Ramirez: Maybe a nice pair of socks.

Stanford Pines: How did she manage that one?

Pacifica Northwest: I don't know! I've been home all morning and my clothes were fine last night.

Candy Chiu: Don't you have a special sleep routine? With headphones and a noise machine?

Pacifica Northwest: …yes.

Dipper Pines: So you didn't check your clothes this morning?

Pacifica Northwest: Oh my gosh. There is no way she snuck into my room in the middle of the night to do this infantile prank. That is beyond creepy and in fact illegal.

Stanley Pines: Good luck proving it.

Gideon Gleeful: She's like the phantom of April Fools Day.

Pacifica Northwest: She's going to pay for this—literally and figuratively.

Slinging his bath towel onto the hook, Dipper approached the tub. The pranks his friends were currently enduring very much at the forefront of his mind, he eyed the showerhead suspiciously. Leaning forwards he twisted the nozzle and watched as blue-dyed water spewed, creating bright swirls on the porcelain before going down the drain.

Rolling his eyes, Dipper tightened the belt on his green bathrobe and threw open the bathroom door. "Very funny, Mabel. You're cleaning—"

He was abruptly cut off as something soft and squishy slammed into his face. The force of the blow sent him stumbling backwards a few steps, spluttering in surprise. Mabel, who had been crouched next to the doorway, stood straight and burst into laughter.

"April Fools!"

Dipper gingerly rubbed at his face, staring at the white cream that coated his fingertips. "What is this?"

"Shaving cream."

"You couldn't make it whipped cream?" he demanded, grabbing his towel to scrub at his face.

"We were out. Shaving cream is funnier, anyway."

When his vision was clear, Dipper took a quick glance around the bathroom. Globs of shaving cream covered the floor and there were blue stains on the wall and floor of the shower. "You're cleaning this up."

"Fine," agreed Mabel, still grinning.

Dipper followed his sister downstairs and into the kitchen, idly picking spots of cream out of his hair. Mabel opened the cupboard door beneath the sink and removed the cleaning products she needed, setting them on the floor. Deciding to get a drink before she started her task, she straightened and grabbed a glass from the dishwasher. She moved over to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher. She filled it with Mabel Juice and took a sizable gulp.

"Ugh!"

She coughed it out, mouth twisting at the strong, foul, bitter flavour. She nearly dropped the pitcher of pink juice in her haste, but managed to set it clumsily on the counter as she raced to rinse her mouth. "What the heck was that?"

Dipper pumped his fist victoriously. "Yes! I was hoping to get you first but hey, I'll take it."

"Did you put salt in here?"

"Not in the juice directly. I replaced the sugar bowl with salt."

Mabel spat out a mouthful of water and turned to stare at her twin in horror. "Do you know how much sugar I put in Mabel Juice? You could've given me salt poisoning!"

"Even if you had swallowed, you wouldn't get salt poisoning," said Dipper in amusement. "It takes a lot more than that."

Pouring her ruined beverage down the sink, Mabel admitted, "That was a good one."

"So was yours. I didn't even stop to consider the drinking powder in the showerhead was a red herring."

"I wasn't sure if it would work, so I had a backup. I figured you would be on your guard today."

"At least I only have to worry about you," said Dipper with a grin. "I'd probably be hunkered down in the Mystery Shack's bunker if I had to face Wendy being on the loose."

"I wish we were there," said Mabel wistfully. "I could totally be her sidekick."

"Geez, talk about a team-up straight out of a nightmare."

Mabel's phone buzzed in her pocket and she smiled widely, yanking it out and tapping on the notification. "Wendy strikes again," she cheered. "She's really the Queen of April Fools."

Dipper moved from the kitchen table to peer over her shoulder. "Poor Soos. He didn't stand a chance."

To: GF Crew (10+ contacts in this group)

From: Soos Ramirez (QuestionMarkDude)

Subject: She got me, bros

She put superglue in my hat. I don't know how she did it. I set it down for a second and Melody didn't see her come in. She's got superpowers or something. I am impressed.

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Dipper Pines: I am very glad all I had to deal with is a shaving cream pie to the face.

Mabel Pines: And Mabel Juice sabotaged with salt.

Fiddleford McGucket: We are not so lucky.

Robbie Valentino: Next year I'm crashing at your place. Yo, good luck getting the hat off Hamster Dude.

Soos Ramirez: Thanks! Did the dish soap thing work for you, Gideon?

Gideon Gleeful: Oh yeah, it worked like a charm. But how are you going to remove it if the glue is on the inside, where you can't access it?

Mabel Pines: You could try cutting a small hole and putting the dish soap through there!

Soos Ramirez: I'll give it a shot, hambones. I'm sure Melody could rip it off if that doesn't work.

Dipper Pines: Oh man, I'm hurting just thinking about it.

Stanley Pines: It's your own fault. Not paying attention and leaving your personal items unattended is just you begging to be pranked by the Red Menace.

Soos Ramirez: Who?

Dipper Pines: Wendy, Soos. Wendy.

Giving a soft snort of amusement at Soos' plight, Stan minimized his e-mail window on the laptop. He stood and started for Ford's cabin, arms stretching over his head. "Hey Ford, Wendy finally got Soos. She put superglue in his hat, can you believe—?"

When he stepped into Ford's space he paused, eyebrows flying upwards. His twin was sleeping on the worn cot, fully dressed and his phone resting on the floor beside him. Stan shook his head and was about to retreat to his own room when a sudden idea struck him.

"April Fools Day, huh?" he mused to himself, a wicked grin stretching across his features. He went over to the hope chest nailed to the ground and eased the lid open. He found the sewing kit and removed a thread and needle. He quietly approached the edge of the cot, studying the trench coat Ford always wore, and got to work.

It wasn't an easy task, since he knew Ford could jolt awake at any moment, a habit developed after decades trapped in the portal. But Stan moved quickly and silently, traits learned after years as a criminal and con-artist. When he finished he backed away, surveyed his handiwork, and grinned.

"Ford!"

Stan's bellow instantly startled Ford awake. "What is it?!" he shouted, attempting to sit up and suddenly finding himself falling straight to the hardwood floor of the boat. "Ouch!"

The grogginess from his abrupt wake-up call rapidly faded, allowing him to take in his surroundings. Stan stood over him cackling and Ford found that he could not move his arms. Staring down at himself, he was stunned to discover that his trench coat had been sewn shut with black thread, his arms criss-crossed over his chest and sewn into place.

"Stanley!" hissed Ford, struggling to rip his arms free but the thread keeping them firmly locked down. "What is this?"

"Come on, I couldn't pass up an opportunity to prank you," snickered Stan. "I can't believe you actually fell asleep."

"You're right, it is my fault for thinking you would act like an adult and ignore this immature holiday," said Ford with a scowl. "Get me out of here."

"Nah, I don't think so. I'm sure you've got scissors in here somewhere. Have fun." Stan took out his phone and snapped a picture. "I'm gonna go post this on the Internet."

He left the room, leaving Ford to shout furiously after him. He skipped up the stairs and onto the deck of the ship, enjoying the bright blue sky and spring weather. He habitually turned to check on the sails, eyes immediately locking on the leather wallet duck taped to the top of the mast.

His wallet.

"Poindexter! You're a jerk and a hypocrite!"

To: GF Crew (10+ contacts in this group)

From: Stanley Pines (StantheMan)

Subject: My prank is better

2 Attachments (Photo Files)

It's Ford's fault for falling asleep and it's my fault for leaving my wallet unattended. But clearly I'm way better at this April Fools thing. I didn't exert myself to pull it off.

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Mabel Pines: Good thing you're not afraid of heights any more!

Fiddleford McGucket: I didn't know you could sew, Stanley.

Soos Ramirez: He's made a lot of exhibits with just a needle a fabric!

Fiddleford McGucket: How's it going with the hat?

Soos Ramirez: Not so good.

Gideon Gleeful: You climb that and you'll throw out your back. Film it.

Stanley Pines: Shut up, Gideon.

Dipper Pines: Where's Grunkle Ford?

Stanley Pines: Probably still stuck in his coat. He has access to scissors.

Robbie Valentino: You know, Wendy wasn't all that devious until she met you.

Dipper Pines: Oh yeah, he's a bad influence.

Mabel Pines: I wonder why Wendy isn't conversing with us.

Pacifica Northwest: She's probably killing herself laughing.

Candy Chiu: Actually, she just got her next unfortunate victims.

Robbie Valentino: Who?

Grenda Gosling: Photo File (Click to view)

Fiddleford McGucket: Are those…handcuffs?"

Candy Chiu: We were eating ice-cream at the diner. One moment we had our freedom and the next we were wearing metal bracelets chaining us together. Wendy was nowhere to be found.

Grenda Gosling: Girl I love you but I can't stay likes this forever. I don't want to sit through your violin lessons.

Candy Chiu: I completely understand.

Soos Ramirez: Maybe Wendy is part phantom.

Stanley Pines: She's probably lost her mind by this point.

Dipper Pines: Hold on. She got Robbie, Pacifica, Gideon, Soos, and now Candy and Grenda. Which means the only person she hasn't gotten yet is…

Fiddleford McGucket: Time to batten down the hatches.

Pacifica Northwest: Just activate the security system. She won't be able to set one foot past the gate.

Stanford Pines: Stangetmeoutofhere

Stanley Pines: There he is. Fine, I'll get the scissors. Good luck, McGucket. You're going to need it.

Pacing across the smooth floor of the security booth, McGucket kept casting paranoid glances at the monitors. There were about half a dozen screens, each showing segments of the sprawling mansion. Everything was currently silent but that did not set McGucket at ease. There were several dozen windows Wendy could utilize to gain access to his home and the cameras didn't catch all of them.

After a few minutes of intent perusing something caught his eye. On the monitor that showcased the front drive, he noticed something tired to the front gate, flapping in the wind. He stared at it for a moment, knowing very well that this could be a trap.

"This is my home, gosh darn it!" McGucket finally declared. "I won't be intimidated on my own soil!"

Before he departed from his mansion he grabbed a frying pan from the kitchen to defend himself if need be. He walked slowly across the rolling green yard, eyes shifting about in search of anything suspicious. When he reached the gate it was to discover a green piece of flannel tied to the bar.

"What in tarnation?" he muttered, brow furrowing.

Looking past the gate, he could see more strips of the fabric lying in the dirt, creating a trail. McGucket began to follow them, apprehension growing when he was being led into the forest. After a while he finally reached the end, seeing the final piece of fabric nailed to a tree.

McGucket had to back away in order to stare up the tall looming oak, eyes widening when he spotted his banjo tied to one of the top branches. He gaped for a moment before letting out a sigh of resignation.

"Dangnabit. That little missy crossed a line."

To: Payback Seekers (10+ contacts in this group)

From: Fiddleford McGucket (OldmanMcGucket)

Subject: Uprising

1 Attachment (Photo File)

Come on, y'all. We can't let her get away with this. We've got plenty of time to strike back before the day is over. Who's with me?

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Dipper Pines: You know, I'm surprised McGucket is the one inciting the revolution. I totally thought Pacifica would be out for blood.

Pacifica Northwest: I don't like getting my hands dirty. But this time I'll make an exception.

Soos Ramirez: Dudes, I'm in. I tore some skin off when I finally got my hat free.

Robbie Valentino: Wendy's terrifying when she's mad.

Fiddleford McGucket: Well, I'm mad too. Mad as a hornet that I had to retrieve my banjo from a tree. It's time to dethrone the April Fools Day master.

Robbie Valentino: …all right. I'm in. She definitely has it coming.

Gideon Gleeful: She won't know what hit her.

Candy Chiu: What will hit her?

Grenda Gosling: Water balloons!

Stanford Pines: Certainly a classic, but I'm sure you can get more creative.

Grenda Gosling: Balloons filled with horseradish!

Stanley Pines: Syrup!

Gideon Gleeful: Glue!

Candy Chiu: Paint!

Robbie Valentino: Egg yolk!

Pacifica Northwest: Slime!

Soos Ramirez: Mayonnaise!

Mabel Pines: Pink glitter!

Dipper Pines: We don't really have a score to settle with Wendy, but I casually make the suggestion of vinegar.

Stanford Pines: Yes, that ought to do it. Perfume might also work. She doesn't like sweet, flowery scents.

Fiddleford McGucket: Get all the balloons you can get your hands on and start filling them up! We'll meet at the hardware store in two hours. As Tyler would say, git 'im!

Leaning against the check-out counter of the hardware store, Wendy scrolled through her e-mails as she waited for the cashier to bag her items. She had felt the continuous buzzing as her friends conversed but had been too busy executing her pranks to check her notifications. She smirked at the rants and vexation aimed at her, satisfaction and pride swelling within. They were mad, sure, but they would all get over it eventually.

"Another April Fools dominated," she said with a laugh.

Taking her plastic bags from the cashier, she whistled as she walked outside. She froze upon discovering most of her unfortunate prank targets gathered around the front of the store, buckets in hand brimming with colourful balloons and mouths twisted in wide mischievous smiles.

"Aw shoot," hissed Wendy, realizing that this errand her father had sent her on was a complete trap. "Betrayed by my own flesh and blood."

"We've suffered your pranks for years," cried Robbie. "We won't stand for it no more!"

"Do you know how much its going to cost to dry clean my clothes to get the wrinkles out?" demanded Pacifica, raising a substance-filled balloon threateningly.

"The prankster is gonna get pranked!" cheered Soos.

"These handcuffs will not hold us back!" declared Grenda, her and Candy hoisting two balloons out of their bucket.

"Let's see how ya like gettin' glue out of your hair," sneered Gideon.

"On the count of three!" called McGucket.

Wendy flung her arms over her head, dropping her purchases in the process. She would not argue, because she could admit to herself that she deserved payback and was impressed that they were actually striking back. Her bravado was not so strong when the projectiles started striking her, substances of differing consistencies splattering over her body.

"Ugh! Wait wait wait!" she half-laughed, half-shouted, ducking her head as a mix of egg yolk and mayonnaise dripped down the side of her face. "What the heck did you put in—ow! Watch the face!"

"This is really therapeutic," said Pacifica with a grin, hitting Wendy's waist with a red paint-filled balloon.

"I feel better already," said McGucket cheerfully, hitting the redhead's cheek with pink glitter.

"These are from Mr. Pines," called Soos and Wendy soon found her hair and back coated with a sticky liquid.

The onslaught eventually ended and Wendy slowly unfurled herself from her defensive stance. She looked down at her body, which was almost completely covered in a mix of substances. She could identify paint, glitter, egg yolk and mayonnaise staining her clothes and skin, but wasn't sure what the other gunk was.

"Okay, what's in my hair?" she asked, gingerly tugging on her ginger strands.

"Mostly glue and syrup," replied Candy.

"And a little bit of horseradish," added Grenda.

Wendy sniffed her wrist and held back a gag. Rising above even the strong odour of paint was the manufactured sense of roses. "Oh my gosh, did you use perfume too?"

"It was Ford's idea," said McGucket with a smile.

"Dang. Everyone's in on it, huh?" Wendy took off Dipper's cap and shook it out. Unable to hide her grin she said, "Okay, this was pretty good. I wasn't expecting it."

"We should have done something worse, but we didn't have much time left," drawled Pacifica, gesturing towards the setting sun.

"I guess I have a tendency to go too far, so I'm pretty cool with the fact you didn't shave me bald when I was sleeping," said Wendy. "Sorry."

"You didn't physically maim and/or brutally traumatize any of us, and we got our revenge, so I think we're all satisfied," said Robbie, slinging his hands in his pockets.

"All is forgiven," said McGucket cheerfully. "It is April Fools Day after all."

Wendy rummaged through her jean pocket and pulled out a slim key, which she tossed to Candy and Grenda. "I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but I'd rather not wake up with fish heads by my pillow."

"Ooh, that would have been a good one," mused Candy, unlocking the handcuffs and flexing her wrist in relief when it was freed.

"Pretty creepy though," said Grenda, wrinkling her nose.

"I need a shower. Several showers, actually." Wendy grabbed her bags from where they rested on the ground. She gave her friends an affectionate salute and said, "I'll see you later, dorks. Thanks for making this a rad April Fools Day. I enjoyed myself."

"Can't wait until next year," quipped Gideon.

"It won't be a one-sided battle any longer," promised McGucket. "We'll give as good as we get."

Wendy smirked. "Bring it." She caught sight of Soos straying from the group and turned her head, eyes widening at the video camera he retrieved from a tripod resting on the sidewalk. "Oh, you did not."

"Mr. Pines really wanted to see it," explained Soos. "So I had to catch it on video."

"Heck no. He sees physical proof and he'll never let me forget it for the rest of my life. Gimme the camera."

She charged towards Soos and he hastily tossed the camera towards Gideon, who caught it. "Scatter!" he hollered.

With a lot of jeering and laughing, the group took off down the street. Covered in foul-smelling substances, hair hardening and sticking to her skin and clothes, Wendy grinned. "You're all a bunch of losers!"

To: Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan); Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn); Stanley Pines (StantheMan); Stanford Pines (Highsixer); Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick)

From: Soos Ramirez (QuestionMarkDude)

Subject: We got her

1 Attachment (Video File)

I got her a couple of times for you, Mr. Pines!

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Dipper Pines: Oh shoot that looks disgusting.

Wendy Corduroy: You should have seen the shower afterwards. I think I spent more time cleaning it than myself.

Stanford Pines: You were a very good sport about it.

Wendy Corduroy: Sure. If you can't take what you dish out, than don't dish it out at all. Though I'm gonna have that perfume stench clinging to my skin for a while. Thanks.

Stanford Pines: Any time.

Mabel Pines: How much glitter is still on you?

Wendy Corduroy: A lot. Did you have to make it pink?

Mabel Pines: Of course!

Stanley Pines: Ha! This is the best thing I have ever seen! How'd you like the syrup?

Wendy Corduroy: It was sticky and a pain and I'm beat. I'll talk to you dorks tomorrow.

Dipper Pines: Night!

Mabel Pines: Nighty night!

Stanford Pines: Goodnight, dear.

Stanley Pines: Night, Creature From the Deep.

Wendy Corduroy: Aw, shut up.