#also strangers found my jokes very funny and spun me around

[lilgynt]

if ur autistic go to a rave rn it’s literally unlimited stimming get high? bro goodbye

[chasingpj]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤

pairing: percy jackson x child of aphrodite! gn reader

requested?: yup!

warnings: mentions of underage drinking, one curse word, and mentions of sexual tension

category: fluff, shy boy x obviously interested girl trope

a/n: don't mind me I'm just projecting and I got carried away

you’re not sure what gravitated you to percy more

the crystal green eyes, the freckles over his nose, the disheveled dark curls, or his clumsiness

the first time you laid eyes on him, he was walking back to his cabin after sword-fighting practice

his tan skin gleamed in the sunlight as a hand came up to swipe away the damp hair sticking on his forehead

for an action so mundane, it made your stomach flutter like crazy

and then the beauty of the moment was ruined right when he trips over the steps of his cabin

you heard stories of the kid killing the minotaur, blowing up a volcano, and rumors of being the suspected child of a huge prophecy

yet, he was not immune from tripping over his feet

and you’re sure the dorky charm of that moment made you think, he’s mine

for the next few days, you were determined to approach him

but you didn’t just want to come up to him and introduce yourself; that would be too plain and forgettable

you ended up finding your opportunity during a capture the flag game

silena gave you instructions to distract percy, and you headed over strong, ready to make your first impression while also taking him down for your team

sure, he had water powers and done a bunch of cool things, but your father made sure you were well trained in sword fighting and martial arts even before you knew about the camp

you planned to take him by surprise, and luckily it worked

with ruthless attacks, it didn’t take long for you to sweep him off his feet and knock his sword out of his hand

by pressing the flat of your sword under his chin, you forced him to look up at you, and you peered into those clear green eyes

gods, he’s cute, you thought

“hey,” you said

percy was stunned, not sure if it was because you effortlessly took him down or if it was because you were one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen

“... hi,” he sputtered, gawking for a moment as you offered your hand

you swore you felt sparks when his fingers brush across your palm... even though the contact was a little sweaty

in the distance, you heard the satyrs blow the horn and the roars of celebration from your team

“i should go back to the others. catch you later, ocean eyes,” you flirted

percy’s shoulders tensed up when you blew him a kiss; awkwardly frozen in his place as you waited

“well, are you going to catch it? you can’t just let my kiss fly away.”

percy shifted on his feet, not sure if you were serious or not, but when you held your ground with arms folded over your chest, it was clear that’s what you were waiting for

and so with a flushed face, percy awkwardly grabbed the air in the front of him, and you couldn’t help but giggle

“good, i wouldn’t want it flying to a stranger,” you commented playfully. “you know, i don’t really like this whole outdoor camp life thing, but seeing your pretty face around here makes it a lot better”

“uh… oh, thanks?” he stammered, not having the words to respond

you winked at him before walking off, more than satisfied with your first impression

after that, you were contemplating your next move

children of aphrodite can see all the possibilities in a potential relationship

you were able to see you and percy eating ice cream in central park, holding hands at camp, a shy kiss on your first date

you wanted all of it, and you going to make sure you get it

of course, silena and your siblings were your wing women

if percy was in the strawberry fields, you were picking strawberries beside him

in the fields, you got to know him and his sarcastic humor, which made your crush flourish

you even took sword fighting classes at the same time as him and made sure he was your partner most of the time

whenever you had a chance, you’d affectionately fix his hair or his armor just to hear his shy thank you’s

he’s never had a girl show this much interest in him, so you definitely made him a little nervous, but despite that, he opened up to you pretty quick

sometimes he’d help you out in the stables, and you noticed how he’d fumble with the harnesses or knock things over when you would flirt with him

you loved his reactions so much that you always took it up a notch just to see how he’d react

you suppose the pegasi didn’t make percy’s shyness any better

there were times where he’d shush them, or the tips of his ears would grow even more flushed at a neigh or huff from one of the pegasuses

as the summer came to an end, you gave percy your email and made sure you stayed in touch

you didn’t live very far from one another, but you didn’t dare ask to hangout

you wanted to be asked first!

and you were disappointed when the invitation never came despite the two of you being consistent with sending emails

the year flew by fast, though, and you were excited to return to camp for an array of reasons; percy being one of those reasons, of course

when you saw him for the first time that summer, you were in awe at how different he looked after a year

he was taller, broader, and just more handsome overall

your stomach went into a frenzy when he greeted you with a boyish smile while his hand rubbed the back of his neck nervously because he didn’t fail to notice how, somehow, you were even prettier than he remembered

unfortunately, having the prepare for the war meant you guys were too busy to hang out as often as you did the previous summer

but when you did have time to see each other, it was still fun

there was an unspoken rule between you and percy that any talk about the war wasn’t allowed

it allowed you guys to just bask in the nights where you would watch the sunset while joking around and sharing funny stories

those nights were calm and still; they brought a sense of normalcy amongst the chaos and growing tensions

because of this, percy had sought out your company whenever he could get it

being with you made him feel like time slowed down

inevitably, the battle of manhattan occurred and passed, causing the summer to end with the grief of losing your siblings

while campers arranged the ceremonies to honor their siblings, percy hopped around to help

losing silena as a counselor meant it was time to pick a new one, and to your surprise, your siblings nominated you

you were silena’s right-hand person, the oldest in the group after her, and the strongest fighter, so your siblings felt it was fair that you took the role

but it didn’t feel right to you; the pressure of being a newly elected councilor while still grieving silena weighed hard on your shoulders

after the nomination, you needed time to get away and sit with your thoughts, and you were only there for a moment alone until percy had found you

his eyes studied your somber expression, and he was quick to ask what was wrong

as you poured out all your worries, percy was quiet and attentive

you cuddled up to his side for comfort, and even in your sorrow, you didn’t fail to notice the way he tensed up

finally, when you let everything out, he chimed in to soothe your worries

your expression was a little lovestruck as he said everything you needed to hear, and well, his strong arm around your shoulders definitely helped too

you were so elated that you couldn't help but press a kiss on his cheek to thank him

his flushed face was enough to lift your spirits for good that day

by the time the summer officially came to an end, you could feel that percy’s feelings for you were becoming stronger

the romantic possibilities you envisioned became more apparent, but percy hadn’t asked you out yet

and like, you guessed you could have asked him out, but that wasn't fair in your book

you were already making the first moves; it was his turn to do something about it

then you were sure your mother pitied you because finally, after a few more months of emailing, percy asked if you to go ice skating with him, and of course, you agreed

but then, you concluded that it was more like a cruel joke from your mom because percy never showed up

you waited hours for him before you trudged home in defeat

heartbroken wasn’t even enough to describe how you were feeling

being stood up with no follow up from him made you conclude that he just wasn’t interested and you just needed to move on

it wasn’t until you went to CHB for christmas break did you find out percy was missing

you were crazy worried about him and helped as much as you could to try and find him

when it was confirmed that he was still alive, you were more than relieved

from that day on, you were itching to see him again, and finally, after the giant war, you were able to speak to him

you only said a hello before you got sucked into a game of truth or dare with your friends

the game was self-explanatory; spin the bottle and the person who’s chosen is submissive to the person who spun it

you made up some lousy dares for the first few people until you spun the bottle in percy’s direction

“truth or dare?” your voice was challenging, and a little flirty

percy shifts in his place, “truth.”

“do you want to kiss me?”

“dare.”

“kiss me.”

the instigating coos of your friends made you smile, which contrasted percy’s stunned expression

“never have i ever-”

“that’s not even the game, percy!”

your friends laughed at your interaction, but you were honestly a little annoyed

he liked you; you could feel it, so what was he even waiting for?

“it’s fine. you don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to,” you say with a playful smile in an attempt to hide your disappointment

“shit, i’d kiss you,” leo joked, and you suddenly perked up at the request

a new idea came to your mind

“so kiss me,” you snapped your gaze to leo, a smirk on your face

leo gasped so hard; he choked on his own saliva

while he coughed erratically, showcasing all his shock on his face, you announced, “new rule! you can only give up a dare if someone else in the group offers to take it for you.”

your gaze fixed on leo, “so, are you going to kiss me or what?”

“uh, only if you want to,” he stammered, and you smiled, moving to lean over in his direction

suddenly, percy cut in, “i didn’t give up the dare.”

your attention shifted to him, and you didn’t fail to pick up the jealousy radiating off of him

your stomach flipped with anticipation at the success of your idea

if percy needed a push, you were going to push him

“you’ve given leo false hope then,” you joked, and playfully leo sighed.

“man, so close,” he mumbled.

you bit your lip as you leaned in percy’s direction

you felt his attraction to you; his eyes told you everything you needed to know and more

and before you knew it, your lips were against his

the kiss was short, but for a moment, the world around you was drowned out; you barely heard the coos and cheers of your friends around you

with a satisfied smirk, you pulled away, settling back in your spot as percy’s eyes averted elsewhere, too shy to look at you

you and your friends played the game until you grew bored and found something else to do

because the festivities kept pulling you in one direction to another, the only interaction you had with percy was the occasional longing glance and nothing else

as you escorted a few of your sisters who drank a little too much back to your cabin, you were sure you’d have to wait another day to talk to him

lost in your dismay, you automatically denied piper’s offer to finish the task

it wasn’t until she scoffed did you pull out of your thoughts

“are you kidding? go. i’ll get them back. you find percy.”

“oh yeah. you guys need to do something about that sexual tension. are you gonna date him or what?” another one of your sisters slurred

before you could even protest, you were shooed away by not only piper but by the rest of your siblings too

you stayed in your spot, making sure they had at least made it to the steps of the cabin before you pranced up to percy’s cabin

you figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask if he wanted to go on a walk with you

your knock is followed by a few moments of shuffling before he opened the door

and, whew, you were pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a shirtless percy

“hey." you leaned on the door frame, your eyes trailing down to admire his toned torso

“eyes up here," percy playfully demanded

you were almost hesitant to avert your eyes, but you obliged.

"i wanted to ask if you wanted to take a walk. you know, i just haven’t been sleeping well."

percy leaned against the door frame, amused at the dramatic pout on your face.

“sure, let me put on a shirt firs-”

“oh, you don’t have to. i don’t mind,” you cut him off, and his head tilts back just a little as he laughs

“i’m putting on a shirt,” he declares playfully, and you whine in fake disappointment

on your walk, he told you all the crazy things that happened while he was missing, and even though his stories were a lot more interesting than what you had to say, he was eager to hear about what you've been up to

your conversation persisted as you walked around the camp and as you arrived at the docks, another idea came to mind

suddenly, you cut yourself off mid-sentence, your gaze fixed on the water

“perce, you know, i can’t swim,” you mention, stepping on the wooden dock

“really?”

“really.”

it was quiet for a moment, and percy's expression was laced with confusion as you kicked off your shoes

you didn’t even care that you were wearing designer clothes, running straight off the dock and into the deep lake water

you heard percy yell your name right as your body completely submerges in the water

and it wasn't even more than 3 seconds before percy jumped in, one arm immediately wrapping around your waist to swim up to the surface with you

his baffled expression sent you into a fit of laughter

“what? why did you do that?!”

“cause i knew you’d come and get me.”

percy’s lips curved up into a smile, and you took the time to admire his features in the moonlight

you swore you saw his eyes flicker to your lips for a second, and the action made you hyper-aware of how close your noses were

"kiss me!" you thought in your head as you circled your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer

you could feel his admiration, the accelerated thump of his heart, the fluttering in his stomach that mimicked yours

the kiss you shared earlier was far too short for your liking, and you were already looking forward to the next opportunity to kiss him again

“i haven’t forgotten that i owe you a date.”

you smiled at his words, half-distracted at the proximity of his lips

“so it was a date all along?” you asked, and percy nods, amused

“you know, i was thinking now that there isn’t another big prophecy and the chances of me disappearing again aren’t likely, that, maybe, you and i could-”

“yes! gods, yes.” you cut him off, and percy laughs at your eagerness

you waited too long for the question that you couldn’t even let him finish asking

he isn’t able to say anything else as you pull him into a passionate kiss

it was as if the years of anticipation were being poured into the movement of your mouths

the kiss was long, growing in eagerness until the harpies had ruined your fun and the two of you had to run back to your cabins

a part of you had wished that all of this would have happened sooner

you had plenty of nights where you were stared at the ceiling with conflicted thoughts, wondering if you guys just weren't meant to be, if you somehow made up his attraction to you in your head, or if you should ask him out first and save yourself the potential regret

but when you returned to your cabin full of enthusiastic siblings asking why you were soaking wet and why your lipstick was smudged, you realized you wouldn’t have changed a single thing

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if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on !

[greennightspider]

Teddy Bear (Kili x Reader)

Author’s Note: Just a very fun, light hearted fic! I like writing goofy oneshots full of the unexpected and funny scenarios, so I hope you enjoy!

Summary: You are a stranger, dropped right from your bedroom in the modern world into the middle of Thorin Oakenshield's company. At the behest of some of the more welcoming members like Bofur and Bombur they take you on, and you do your best to prove yourself. Until one habit from your old world comes back to bite you. Or cuddle you, per se. 

Rating: Suggestive, but ultimately fluff.

Tagging: @bewareofmyinside​

Kili x Female Reader

Two weeks into travelling in Middle Earth and you felt like you were getting the hang of things. It was amazing how the things you thought were necessities in the modern world, turned out to mean so little now. And you were surprised at how little you missed it. 

Luckily, before you were thrust into the land of no cellphones, no working plumbing and no UberEats you had actually enjoyed camping rough, tramping, and exploring the outdoors. You were also pleasantly surprised when a lot of the plants you foraged for back home could be found in this wilderness, and so Bombur and the company were very pleased at the new herbs/flavors at mealtimes. You had started to feel like one of the team, and you very much enjoyed their company.

The only thing that was bothering you during your journey was your lack of sleep. It wasn’t due to the cold or the terrain as one would have thought. Yet as the nights went on you found it harder and harder to find rest. You had hoped the different circumstances would have curbed your sleeping routine, but alas no luck.

Even still, there was no way. No. Way. That you were going to admit to a throng of burly men that you still needed a teddy bear to sleep with at night. All of your hard earned respect? Gone. And Thorin had just managed to start looking at you with a normal frown instead of an annoyed frown! No way. It was too embarrassing to ever admit. 

So you resigned yourself to your tossings and turnings, never thinking that your lack of cuddles would one day, get the best of you.

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Kili poked at the fire with his sword, the embers sparking into the night sky. He watched them dance, glad for the cool night air. It was only himself, Dwalin and Thorin left awake, Fili already taking an early night. Kili didn't mind the night watch. Dwalin and Thorin had always been late sleepers and early risers. Kili smiled as he listened to another of Dwalin's battle stories, hoping that one day he would be able to have fierce battle stories of his own. 

However, in the lull of it all the young dwarf heard the crunch of footsteps behind him. The young prince instantly put his hand on the hilt of is sword as he spun around, but his face softened as he saw it was just you.

"Y/N," Kili chuckled a sigh of relief. "You scared me for a minute."

You stood there silently, looking down swaying from side to side.

"Are you alright there lass?" Dwalin asked, turning his head sideways as you seemed a bit..off.

"...teddy..." You mumbled.

"What was that?" Kili tried to lean forward to make out what you said, but no sooner was he leaning forward than inching away.

Kili squirmed under your intense gaze as you bent down, getting closer and closer even as the young prince neared the edge of the log he sat on. Even Dwalin nudged Thorin who was looking out to the mountain and nodded to your peculiar display.

"Uuum, Y/N?"

The young dwarf prince gulped as he stared into those beautiful hazel eyes of yours, his cheeks starting to become rosy. He couldn’t deny it, having you around was definitely a welcome vision after staring at rugged dwarves for weeks on end, half of which were his family. But the way you were staring at him at this moment, so intensely, he couldn’t tell if his body was responding in fear or attraction.

Suddenly you stopped peering, and your eyes lit up with a dazed smile. "There you are teddy, I missed you."

Before Kili could register what that meant, all of a sudden he felt you hoist him off the ground and into your arms.

"I was looking everywhere for you!" You squeezed him to your unbridled chest and swung him around. Kili could do nothing but turn red as you nuzzled to his bristled cheek, helpless as a ragdoll. His arms pinned to his sides, even squirming didn’t help much as you held him in such a strong bear hug, cooing contentedly. In all honestly he was surprised at your strength, managing to lift him with such ease, although your strength was the least of his worries right now. 

As his mouth was inadvertently covered by the sleeve of your coat Kili tried to make panicked eyes at his uncle and Dwalin, hoping for some much needed assistance.

But Dwalin just hollered and burst out laughing at the sight of the young fierce warrior at the mercy of a sleep-walking Y/N. "You go lass!" Dwalin cheered, and Thorin spat out his drink as he watched his nephew get dragged into the night with wild, fearful eyes.

Just as Thorin was about to follow them Dwalin's hand stayed his shoulder. “Leave em be Thorin, I doubt those two younglings will get up to much.” He chuckled. 

"Uh- Y/N?" Kili stammered, as he was dropped onto his back on your bedfurs. For all of Kili's confident flirting, Kili had never actually been in a woman’s bed before. Or been taken to bed before. He gulped as you maneuvered around him, still half over his body preventing him from escape.

Did he want to escape though? Never in a million years did he think Y/N would be so bold, but he still was a male. He watched as the moonlight caressed the nape of your neck, as you held him to your clavicle while you prepped his makeshift pillow. Oh, it had been a long time since he had felt such intimate care and affection.

"Its bedtime now Mr Teddy." You murmured, tucking both of you into the bed. The young dwarf couldn’t resist breathing in your musk, drowning in your scent as it lulled him to relax. Kili was helpless to your sleepy smile, and once again let you cuddle him close to your breasts. He blushed as you snuggled your chin to the top of his head, giving him a small kiss that almost made his heart explode.

"Sleep now Mr Teddy." You murmured, and for once this was a prison Kili never wanted to escape.

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

As the sun peeked over the mountain tops your eyes filtered open,having had the best sleep in weeks. You stretched your arms outwards, reveling in the dawn before hearing a small cough and looking down, to see a young dwarf looking up at you with big eyes nestled to your chest.

"Uhm, morning Y/N." Kili looked up sheepishly.

The shriek that would have left your mouth would have ended up being the alarm clock that woke the entire company, had Kili not clapped his hand over your mouth instantly. You skirted to the corner of your bedmat, Kili still peeking timidly from the opposite side.

"Um Kili, why are you in my bed?" You tried to keep your voice low and unpanicked. Well, in all honesty Kili himself was not an unwelcome sight, and you had more than once caught yourself gawking at the handsome dwarf, in all his 5ft glory. But the fact that you couldn’t remember how he’d ended up here had you more than alarmed.

"Well, I was hoping to ask you the same thing." Kili replied.

"What do you mean?"

Kili rose on his elbows, careful not to see who else was awake. “You’re the one who dragged me here, calling me ‘teddy’?”

“Oh no.” You covered your face with your hands, mortified. 

"Back home I'd always slept with a big teddy bear in my bed, which is like a children’s doll in the shape of a bear.” You tried to mimic the shape with your hands. “I find it really hard to sleep otherwise. But I guess in my sleep I must’ve mistaken you for- oh Kili I’m so sorry I’m so embarrassed."

"No no no its okay." Kili held his hands up. "No harm was done, nothing except having an extra warm bed." He chuckled then winced, instantly regretting his joke in the awkwardness of it all.

“Once again I am so, so sorry.” You held your hands up. “I promise it wont happen again.”

But it did.

The next night you picked him up like a baby, while Bofur and Bilbo who were on night-watch looked on, eyebrows raised to their foreheads, Kili trying not to make eye-contact with either one.

“I’m so sorry Kili I promise I won’t do it again.”

The night after that you still managed to find him while being a sleepwalking zombie, plucking him up in his nightroll, again to Dwalin and Thorin’s amusement. 

“Stop trying to run away Mr Teddy.” You mumbled, tossing him over his shoulder.

“Yea laddy, stop trying to fight it.” Dwallin snorted. “The girl’s obviously picked you for a reason.”

“Its because I look like her bear teddy!” Kili tried to argue over your shoulder, obviously not looking in any shape to defend himself.

The next morning as you awoke with Kili in your arms again, you sighed.

“Kili, I’m so sorry about this, I know it must be annoying.”

The young dwarf gazed at your face with wide eyes, trying really hard not to look at the soft breasts he was pressed up against. “Well there are worse ways to sleep.” He grinned.

You laughed and gave him a small knowing nudge, to which he chuckled.

Kili bit his lip and leaned his head back on the pillow. “You know, Y/N, I don’t mind being your *ahem* your ‘teddy’, if it helps you sleep.”

Your eyes widened, a blush start to creep up your cheeks. “I couldn’t ask that of you. I mean, wouldn’t it be a burden?” You shuffled closer to him, your doe eyes already doing a number on his beating heart.

“Well it would save you from having to hunt for me in the middle of the night.” Kili chuckled, shuffling so that he was eye to eye with you and ever that much closer to your lips. “And its my duty to look after the company, and blushing maidens when they need me.”

“Well, as long as its okay with you, its okay with me.” You uttered softly, inching closer to Kili. 

The two of you slowly closed the gap, eyes lidded, lips a hair’s breadth apart when suddenly the sound of Dwalin banging Bombur’s pot and spoon jolted you apart.

“Wakey wakey!” Dwalin bellowed, walking around the camp before side-eyeing the two bundles of embarrassment that were Kili and Y/N on the ground, looking like two children at a sleepover.

“Aight ya two lovebirds that’s enough for this morning.” He laughed, leaving Kili sitting up flushed trying not to make eye-contact with anyone especially his brother, until he felt a soft, quick kiss on his cheek, and a whisper in his ear.

“Until tonight, my teddy.”

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BONUS: If Fili had been the Teddy Bear

FILI: *marches right up to you* Y/N, I accept your offer. I have talked about our engagement to Thorin, he's said yes, all things going well in Erebor. Thorin just said no children before we take the mountain. *Fili walks away as if nothing has happened*

YOU: *standing there, dumbfounded, mouth agape* We who the what now

[ahh-fxck]

ok but i just saw this AU "My incredibly stupid cat just jumped out of my apartment window after a bird and you caught her in your arms like a baby and looked up, stared me dead in the eye and said "I think you dropped something" and this is geraskier y/y? :D?

Yes! Yes I love this so much! So much that I accidentally wrote five pages about it!

Please enjoy :D It is also here on ao3.

(Also please pardon the no beta, I will come back and edit this but I got excited and wanted to post it!!)

Also also- The song I quote is a real Ren Faire song and is pretty fucking funny if you’re into that kind of thing.

Also also also- Holy shit I am the kind of nerd that will spend two hours researching 500+ year old slang for pussy because I wanted to make a throwaway joke in a fic.

And finally: Yes! I am willing to write more of this if enough people are into it. :) Let me know!

~♡♡♡~

Jaskier threw his leg up on the couch, strumming his lute and singing his heart out. He had just gotten his first shitty apartment for the summer between college semesters, and he was massively behind on practicing for the Faire. August was only a month and a half a way, and he had at least twenty more songs to memorize into his repertoire. It was his first summer as an adult, and he’d finally been allowed to act as one of the wandering bards. 

If all of the girls were bells in a tower

And I was a clapper, I'd bang one each hour

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

If all of the girls were fish in the ocean

And I was a wave I would teach them the motion.

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

The young bard-to-be resumed striding around the room, practicing his struts and flourishes. Nothing less than perfection would do. If he didn’t impress the first week, he would be relegated back to the fairy chorus again, and the fucking leggings itched in the August heat. 

If all of the girls were little white rabbits

And I was a hare, I would teach them bad habits.

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

If all them young ladies was up for improvement.

I'd give them some help with a ball-bearing movement.

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

As he paced back and forth, he tossed his head to throw a sweat-sticky curl of hair off of his forehead. The merciless summer heat had started early this year, and by June it was in full swing. The windows of his little apartment were wide open, and a standing fan was turning back and forth, stirring lazy eddies in the arid air. Nearby, his elderly cat grey cat, Pipkin, lazed in the cool shadow of the table. 

If all them young ladies was little white kittens

And I was the tom cat, I'd give them new fittin's 

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over-

As he spun with particular exuberance, he landed wrong and staggered onto the cat’s tail. Flailing backwards, Jaskier flew one way and the cat flew another. He hit the floor near the ratty couch with a crash, all the breath rushing out of his lungs. Nearby he heard a ‘bang!’ and then a howl of fury and fear as the ancient screen gave way under her considerable weight. Jaskier’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Pipkin!” He screamed, scrambling over to the window and looking frantically downward. As he scanned the sidewalk for his cat, he saw a man with white hair and golden eyes staring up at him. His hammering heart did a complicated skip as the man locked eyes with him and smirked, gesturing with something in his arms. 

“I think you dropped something,” he called up, his voice a gravelly baritone. In his arms was Pipkin, who had such a look of shock on her face that it was almost comical. 

Despite his terror, Jaskier gave a slightly hysterical titter. Oh shit, it was his drop-dead gorgeous neighbor. “I can’t believe you caught her. Oh Melitele, thank you!” No such goddess existed anymore, but in his upset he had forgotten to drop out of character and used the ancient name. 

Below him, his neighbor’s eyebrows went up. “It’s fine,” he said, but he sounded a little thrown. The cat, recovering from her shock, began to struggle in his arms. She gave a surprisingly deep snarl for such a tiny animal. Lashing out, she spat at her rescuer and tried to claw him. Dodging easily, he fixed his eyes on the little animal and gestured in the air above her. “Hush,” he said, though Jaskier could barely hear him. With a slow blink, the little cat settled down in his arms. 

Jaskier gaped at this exchange from above. When the stranger’s compelling golden eyes returned to him, it sparked him suddenly back into motion. “Sweet goddess are you ok?” Leaning out of the window, he peered down at Pipkin. “Pipkin, you be good! What is wrong with you?! I’ll be right down.”

The big man holding his cat smiled a slow smile, shaking his head. “If you don’t mind, I think I’d better bring her up to you. She’s not going to be very happy when I let her go.” 

Jaskier blinked at him, puffed, and then nodded. He wasn’t expecting guests and his apartment was a mess, but he imagined his neighbor was right. It was odd to see her so quiet, though. Feeling a stir of unease, he called, “Okay! I’m in 503!”

“I know,” the white-haired man replied with a crooked grin. He walked around the side of the building to the entryway and vanished out of sight. 

Struck by a sudden panic, Jaskier slammed the window closed and flew away from it. He began frantically cleaning his apartment. Pizza boxes in the trash, empty soda cans in the recycling, oh sweet goddess his socks were everywhere. “Why am I like this?!” He groaned, running a pile of dirty laundry across the apartment and flinging it into his bedroom.

He’d watched his blisteringly hot neighbor move in less than a month ago to the apartment next door, and since then had become a little obsessed. Not only was he gorgeous, he had some weird habits. He kept odd hours. Sometimes he’d leave around twilight one evening and not show up until noon next day, limping into his apartment with a long, dark jacket on, even in the heat of summer. Others, he’d be out at dawn with a large pack of some sort on his back. Then he’d come back in the middle of the day, looking like ten miles of bad road. Sometimes Jaskier could swear there was blood on the carpet, but every time he’d go back to look later, it had vanished- scrubbed away, or never there?  

He never seemed to mind the noise Jaskier made, either. While other philistines railed at his 3 AM renditions of “Roll Your Leg Over,” banging on the floor and wall of his apartment. On one memorable occasion, they had even sent an exasperated police officer to bang on his door. Never the white-haired stranger, though, no matter how loud he was being. 

Just then, knocking interrupted his frantic cleaning. Dropping the lute onto the couch and swearing, Jaskier ran to answer the door. It was only after he had flung the door wide and the white-haired man had stepped inside that he realized he was still only in his boxers. Mortified, he froze to the floor as his neighbor slipped around him and punted the door shut with his foot. He hadn’t even cleared away all of the empty soda bottles, and he’d forgotten his pants.

The big man glanced at him as he entered and smirked. Cradled in his arms, no doubt getting his black jacket all furry, was Pipkin. She had a vague, dazed expression on her face, but her tail swished calmly as he turned to close the door. When he released her on the floor however, some sort of spell seemed to break. She blinked, spun around yowling, and whacked the man’s thick calf-high leather boot three times in quick succession. Then she sprinted away into the recesses of Jaskier’s apartment, vanishing in a trice. 

“Pipkin!” Jaskier gasped, the shock of seeing his usually friendly cat smack the man jarring him into motion. “I am, so sorry,” he quavered, grabbing a yellow, furry jacket off of the coat hook near the door and wrapping it self-consciously around his waist. “She’s normally very sweet, I promise. Are you all right?!” He looked down at the unharmed boot and back up into shocking golden eyes, bright and intelligent, glittering with amusement. 

“I’m fine,” the stranger drawled, removing silver-studded black leather gloves and putting them into his jacket pocket. Closer up, it was possible to see that he carried something bulky under the black duster, strapped to his back. What it was, however, was unclear. 

“That’s… that’s good, I’m glad to hear it,” Jaskier bubbled awkwardly, at a loss. He couldn’t just bolt for his trousers without introducing himself first, but he didn’t want to introduce himself without trousers. Dithering, he clutched the jacket to his waist and stared with wide blue eyes at the black-clad vision in front of him. Tall, white hair, long black jacket, some sort of… was that biker’s gear? The pants appeared to be leather with thick plates sewn into them, perhaps to protect from road rash. He also had some sort of sturdy leather vest or something peeking through the opening of his jacket. A tingle raced across the back of Jaskier’s arms. Whatever he was, this was no normal neighbor. 

“Want to go grab some pants?” A dry voice cut through his dithering. “I’ll wait.” Bright eyes tracked across the fluffy yellow jacket, the smirk widening slightly. 

“Oh thank you,” Jaskier gasped, fleeing before he even had a chance to think. “I’ll be right back!” he called over his shoulder, vanishing into his bedroom. He blindly grabbed for the first pair of pants he could find in his drawer and staggered into them. They were a pair of high-waisted blue trousers that tied at the back- part of one of his Faire outfits. 

Then he peeked under the bed for Pipkin, who he found in the closet. She was hiding in an empty shoe box, and emitted a peevish growl when he gently fished her out, cooing softly to her to calm her. Once he had satisfied himself that the struggling creature was uninjured, he gently returned her to her nest. Then, too flustered to grab a shirt, Jaskier bounced back out into the living room.

His guest greeted his return with a slightly stricken look, though it was hidden quickly behind a look of guarded amusement. He eyed Jaskier up and down, taking in the thatch of chest hair, the bare feet, the blue trousers. “Cat ok?” He asked, his voice a deep, pleasantly gravelly baritone. 

“She’s fine,” Jaskier shuffled awkwardly, then stuck his hand out. “Thank you so much for being there to catch her. Um. Gosh, I wish I’d met you under better circumstances, you’re really um… I mean.” He stopped, swallowed, catching his breath and reeling himself back in. “My name is Jaskier, it’s nice to meet you.”

The man eyed his hand for a moment that was slightly longer than Jaskier was actually comfortable with, before grasping it firmly. “Geralt,” he introduced himself. “Geralt z Rivii.” 

His hand was warm and held a truly surprising amount of strength; Jaskier very rarely felt someone deliberately being gentle with him, but he could tell the big man could crush his fingers like bird bones if he wanted to. It made Jaskier’s bones feel like they were melting like butter, to feel that strength. “Wow…” he said, eyes wide, then mentally kicked himself. “I mean, uh. Nice to meet you,” he burbled, before trailing off awkwardly into silence, kicking himself the entire time for sounding like an idiot. 

The corners of Geralt’s eyes crinkled as he squeezed Jaskier’s hand delicately. “Nice to meet you too.” Turning, he scanned the apartment, his expression unreadable. “Why did you name your cat Pipkin? That’s… an unusual choice.” 

“Uh… Well, funny story…” Jaskier blushed. Normally, he loved telling this story, but somehow it seems silly and small under that bright gaze. “It’s sort of a play on words. People call their cats ‘pussy,’ so I named her… uh… another word for pussy. An old word. Pipkin.” Damn. He hadn’t even managed to make it funny this time. 

“That joke’s more than five hundred years out of date,” Geralt noted, tipping his head to the side and fixing him with a warm, amused look. 

“How- How do you know that?” Jaskier sputtered, astonished. The slang was from the 17th century, no one outside certain academic circles had any business knowing that. “Are you… do you do the Faire?”

Shifting the pack on his back, which concealed two swords- one silver, and one steel, Geralt snorted. “I really don’t.” 

[scarjarbinks]

(1) The Fool’s Journey: A Star Wars Story

Episode One A Clown, And That's All

Spires of apartments, each ubiquitous in their design, flowed like crude circuits along an ancient motherboard. Following tight alleys in the way a hawk-bat would delicately chase the scent of granite slugs, Vrina—a mauve Mikkian who favored a headdress to obscure his head-tendrils—navigated the dank streets as if guided by intimate knowledge of the sprawling maze.

With his presence masked by way of heel-toe footfall and springing steps, he successfully traversed the ground level of Coruscant without much interference—save, perhaps, the preference of avoiding detritus that would penetrate his worn leather boots.

A cramped alleyway, its stones glossy from fallen humidity, spat the wanderer into the shoulder of a well-traveled intersection. In less time it would take to light a death stick, Vrina arrived at the entrance of Gil's Gab as an intruder of a group that had converged on top of him. He was polite in the way most strangers are: a brief nod or a disingenuous smile. Two Human women and an Iridonian male were already under the influence of some unidentifiable and ostensibly trendy drug.

They kept their wits about them as they spoke with the Trandoshan bouncer. He grumbled in Basic, "Invite only tonight."

With confidence stemming from the ether, the emboldened Iridonian raised his chest and lifted his chin. "I'm—we're friends with Wegil."

"Old myth that all Zabraks know each other." The stiff guardian severed the conversation without another thought.

Vrina broke from the group while the two women fruitlessly argued with their companion. The Trandoshan peered down to the heretofore silent man. "Good evening," the Mikkian bowed his head but maintained eye contact. "I actually do know Wegil, but I'm not too sure how much you believe me after that guy. Do you, erm, have a list?" He searched the bouncer's attire. No tablet, just a DL-44.

"Name?"

"Uh, Vrina Hon. Impressive that you can remember all of those names without, y'know, a list."

"Smarter than most of my kind. Speaking," his eyes reduced by a fraction. "Why is a Mikkian so far from home?"

Vrina crossed his arms and cocked a hip. He was not offended by the amount of venom that laced the bouncer's tone. Most transients would pose the same question for a Trandoshan who appears to have been conned into a low-paying job. "I'm here to perform comedy."

A concave of seedy individuals, each imbibing and shouting. The Mikkian traversed with soft steps through Gil's claustrophobic aisles. Though he recognized very few patrons, some were, of course, impossible to ignore due to their status. Such entities dealt with business practices he would rather steer clear from, yet a pull of his excited consciousness understood when to bow as a show of respect and when to simply ignore them.

Vrina passed the stage where he was to perform and waved at the Ithorian drummer—a talented fellow by the name of Bup Nolot who rattled away upon two snares and three cymbals of various sizes. He appeared too-focused to respond, perhaps intent on keeping a steady rhythm or altogether refused to associate himself with a glorified jester.

The backstage was a small respite from the bombardment of intermingling dialects and languages, though it was only an inch-thick drape that separated him from the rest of the club. He did not expect to be alone. Vrina was meant to open for a favored comedienne dubbed Real by the regulars of Gil's and her absence meant he would potentially have to fill her time slot.

A knock on the wall behind him. With his eyes still glued to the audience, Vrina greeted Wegil with a click of the tongue. "Looks like I'm the headliner."

A copper-hued Zabrak approached the Mikkian from behind. He joined Vrina in scanning the sea of flushed faces and spitting lips. "Do you have enough material?" The low-scratch of his voice collided with the amount of noise that polluted the club.

"Eh, well," the comedian took in a sharp breath and crossed his arms. "Let's just hope that they don't remember the first five jokes from last week. Anybody I have to worry about?"

Wegil frowned. "In what way?"

"You know. Pirates, ganglords, politicians. Anybody notable?"

"Only you would rope a politician in with pirates. Since you mentioned it, sure." The Zabrak leaned to the left and gestured a nod outward. It was as if a beacon shone from the center of the crescent-shaped bar: an antsy male Human nursed eight ounces of scarlet liquid with hunched shoulders. He kept his head down, uninterested in those who took residence next to him yet kept a subtle conversation with the barkeep.

Vrina shook his head. "I have a feeling he wasn't invited."

"He's certainly found his way in here, though. He hasn't said a single word to anyone other than the bartender, one of his own kind. I would prefer not to deal with any acts of speciesism tonight. You and Bup are the only two who can see the entire club wall-to-wall."

The Mikkian thought back to the drummer's intense focus and exhaled. "So you'll pay me for my services of doing twice the work as a comedian and taking on an additional role as a spy." He sucked on his teeth, head bobbing while mentally creating an addendum to the first half of his set.

Wegil clasped Vrina on the shoulder and forced eye contact. "I'm not paying you extra for the simple task of paying attention. If anything or anybody suspicious worms their way in…" The club owner paused and drew his head away. "Try to work in a joke about me. I won't take it personally."

"You're acting as if that wasn't half of my set. Right, understood, but what about covering for Real?"

With a sniff, the Zabrak pulled away and nodded twice. Soon, the Mikkian was once again left alone and felt the weight of the near future pressing into his skin like the heat of too-many suns orbiting a desert planet.

Vrina did not have much time to prepare for the amount of improvisation thrusted upon him. The emcee of the night, a stocky Rodian, hyped those who were listening into an enthusiastic applause. After a lengthy introduction presented in choppy Basic, he introduced the Mikkian. As they exchanged the microphone, the reptilian whispered a few words of encouragement: "If you are not funny, I will take over. No problem." He backed away with two thumbs up.

The initial warm-up dragged on as expected with very few individuals chuckling and pulling the attention of their friends to the stage. With more eyes on him, he began to feel at ease. "Everyone's heard the buzz around the eff-ess-ess, right?" He pursed his lips and made eye contact with as many who cared to pay attention. "A federation of only six systems. What an arbitrary number! How are we supposed to check if that's even correct when they won't give up who the systems are?"

For the first time all night, the Human at the bar spun his stool to face the comedian. Though the lights had been dimmed, he could make out a few key features: jet black hair and a matching beard. The Mikkian did not hesitate to continue. "If they were really trying to be intimidating, they might as well have said six-hundred. Sixteen would instill more terror for a terrorist organization!"

A quarter of the audience responded with a lukewarm chuckle—Bup's drumline accompaniment made sure the comedian's jokes never truly fell flat. A figure entered his field of vision to the right. One passive glance drank in the sight of Wegil who did not seem to find any of the Mikkian's jokes humorous in the least.

It was time for his improvisation muscles to be flexed. "Well, you want to keep the numbers small, I guess. Zipping around in taxis would be more cost efficient than buying fuel." A tight grin appeared on the Human's face. Vrina prevented himself from paying too much attention to him. "No need for a base of operations either, really. Just rent a hotel room or, perhaps, meet at a club."

A movement in the back caught Vrina's attention. The Human exited from the bar to the bathroom, pushing his way past a drunk Twi'lek who gestured unkindly to the man. The energy of the room became dense and the once idle chatter fell away to usher in silence. It was as if he had captured the attention of every single patron.

His throat closed, but he knew that, as a comedian, there could never be dead air. "Everybody here knows our lovely host, Wegil, yeah? Let's be honest, of everyone on-planet, he would be the one to house the eff-ess-ess. Watered down coolers to keep them drunk and drain them off their coffer, ill-tempered Trandoshans to keep an eye on their credit pouch." Vrina began to wonder how much of his material was rooted in truth. The Zabrak unwound from his position backstage and navigated through the back. "Safest place in all of… All of—"

A pressure settled into Vrina's skull and he promptly returned the microphone to its stand as Wegil approached the bathroom with a drawn blaster, one bouncer trailing behind him. The Mikkian hurriedly waved a good-bye to Bup as the audience began to boo them both. His lungs inflated as he twisted through the narrow tunnel behind the stage and was forced to stop by way of another Trandoshan bouncer.

"You need to finish your, what is it, comedy," the hulking figure encroached on Vrina's personal space. "If you can even call it that. Wegil's already sent the credits to your account, so I'd recommend—"

A blast shook the lobby and a wave of truncated screams pinched the Trandoshan's focus. With the bouncer's lowered guard, Vrina slipped through what little space the corridor offered and sprinted toward the stage-left exit. If his movements were deft enough, he could remain under the cover of darkness for long enough to join the growing crowd of patrons that also attempted escape.

Rubble could be made out from within the thick plume of smoke that emanated from the bathroom. Vrina slowed to a stop and examined the situation. Two bodies writhed on the ground and another was motionless. He took stock of who was left in the club: half of the patrons, the remaining bouncers… The bartender was already gone.

As the smoke began to clear, Vrina approached the center of the lobby and squinted at the bodies on the ground. A familiar skull-shape, horned and round. He debated whether he should usher the Zabrak out to safety or—

Vrina was lifted from the ground by a pair of scaly, calloused hands. The Trandoshan heaved the comedian forward and watched as he rolled over a table and barreled into several chairs. Broken glass stuck to the Mikkian's simple outfit, a few shards hid in exposed skin.

"He infiltrated our place of business," the bulky reptilian guard sneered and stepped forward. Vrina attempted to straighten himself to a seated position. Two more bouncers slunk in from the corners of the club and approached the Mikkian as well. "And staged an attack!"

"I—what? Me?" Vrina rotated his torso to face the other Trandoshans and experienced a sharp pain in his ribcage. "Ah, dosh." He seethed and grabbed his side. "H-how could I have set off an explosive if I was up on the stage?"

The main Trandoshan signaled the others to stop. He looked down at the pathetic Mikkian with racing eyes.

"Also, whoever did that is doing all of you a favor. Now, listen to me," he exhaled as the guards began to close in once again. "You are all much too talented of warriors to be stuck in here all day catering drunkards. What have you been doing all this time? What's your motivation?"

There was a moment of hesitation, though his gaze never fell away from Vrina. For a moment, there appeared to be a modicum of empathy that flashed in the Trandoshan's eyes. "We've been waiting to tear someone apart."

The Mikkian flinched and swung both palms to defend himself. A gasp from the Trandoshan as a gust of wind knocked him off of his feet. Vrina's brow furrowed but there was very little time for him to ruminate as the remaining bouncers enclosed him with clawed hands outstretched.

Several bleats of a small caliber blaster sounded from the debris-laden corner of the club. Either bouncer roared when struck in their armor, another in his arm. With their luck pressed, they each drew their heavy blasters and scattered to find cover from upturned tables. Vrina spent this time erecting himself to his feet and so did the once-fallen Trandoshan.

Now careful of his enemy, the bouncer kept his distance with two fists balled and ready for use. Vrina blinked and did the same, though both palms were flat and directed in the same fashion as before. No matter how many times he mentally willed himself to throw wind, nothing as exciting occurred. He began to doubt that it had ever taken place—a trick of the eyes, an anomaly of a pressure shift within the building.

While he was distracted processing the anomaly, the firefight behind him resulted in the dropping of both guards. A bright voice shouted: "Duck!"

Without a second thought, Vrina shrunk to the floor and watched as the second of two red bolts struck the remaining bouncer in the center of his forehead.

For a one brief moment, the Mikkian considered snatching the DL-44 from the Trandoshan's holster to take charge of the situation, to feel as if he were not helpless. The same voice called to him with an edge that convinced Vrina the scenario was not quite over. "Are you armed?"

"N-no."

"Well, why not?"

Vrina turned to face the same Human he had been instructed to spy on earlier. Almond-shaped eyes and well-groomed, about the same height and body type as he was, though somewhat more muscular. "So I should, erm, get a blaster?"

The man rolled his eyes and turned the heel of his weapon toward the comedian. It was a feeble blaster with slender design, uniform in color, but did not seem to reflect a sheen. A perfect weapon to conceal. "I assume a Jedi would know how to use one of these."

"A—" The device was shoved in his hand and the mysterious man excused himself to fetch the much more powerful DL-44 from the fell bouncer.

"It's probably a good thing they didn't know how to handle one of these, huh?" Sucking his teeth, the man looked down the unmodified sights and nodded. "I mean, I barely know how to use one of these, sure, but they were just awful."

Vrina straightened his wrist after acclimating to the surprising weight of the small blaster. "What exactly did you just call me?"

The man threw a humored side-eye at the Mikkian. "C'mon. It'd be nice to have someone who knows what they're doing by my side."

"But… I'm—oh, dosh." He watched the Human step away while offering a tight hand signal that meant nothing to the comedian.

Kept crouched and insecure, Vrina trailed behind the Human with the blaster limp and pointed to the floor. In the many patrons' effort to escape, they had made quite a mess: shattered cups and plates, food tracked under heel, abandoned death stick cartridges. The unconscious form of Wegil caused the Mikkian to pause his trail.

"Do you know him?" The Human kept his weapon pointed to the only way in or out. An expectation of being ambushed was palpable. "You have to let me know now if this is someone worth saving. Like, now."

The truth bit at Vrina's tongue. He wanted to be honest and admit that he knew very little about the Zabrak, but the fear that he would be tracked down by a vengeful conduit of illicit affairs forced his hand. "Yeah, he's worth it." The man gave him a signal to fetch the club owner.

Calling out in just above a hushed voice, "I'm surprised we haven't run into the see-ess-eff."

"Right." Vrina heaved Wegil up and balanced him on his feet. "I-find-it-surprising…" He growled while ushering the unconscious body to the door. "How-heavy-people…" A moment to catch his breath. "Actually are."

The man ignored his sentiment. "We have one shot. I'm really going to need you to muster all the strength you have." He slipped a rod-shaped comlink from his jacket pocket. A pleasant chirp sounded when he began to transmit. "Rokkna-1, critical mission failure. Resort to plan-B, but with the pick-up coordinates of Plan-A."

A woman sighed as a response. "Always with the plan-B. Copy, Rokkna-2."

The individual identified as Rokkna-1 turned to Vrina and flashed a grin. "Don't worry, the mission failure wasn't exclusively, entirely your fault."

"I didn't think it was. Wait, was it?"

"Ready up your friend."

With a shake of the head, the Mikkian stood Wegil upright and braced him. "Where are we going? What's happening?"

The whirring of an incoming shuttle paired with sirens that belonged to that of the Coruscant Security Force. "You'll be back in time for breakfast. On five."

Vrina's heart rattled in his chest. Under his breath, "Dosh."

The feminine voice called in, but the sound was muffled while the comlink was tucked in the man's jacket pocket. "Clear, Rokkna-1."

"Nevermind—FIVE!" The Human set off through the front door with large strides. His shoulder checked the door and swung it open with enough force to allow his new companion the chance to exit the building's threshold and into the dark street.

A shuttle with seamless and bulbous edges hovered several feet above ground, its ramp already dropped and open for entrance. The bearded man hopped on board with an effortless bound but fell to his knees and spun to help the Mikkian and Zabrak aboard.

The excited but passive ambiance of each street in the intersection was interrupted by the aggressive whine of hidden speeders. Rokkna-1 demanded the Zabrak first and Vrina agreed, shoving the body onto the ramp with one final expression of strength.

With the CSF seconds away, the transport shuttle began lifting away from the ground. The pilot spoke through the comlink, but there was too much distance for the Mikkian to make out any one word. The Human disappeared inside of the hull for a handful of seconds. Vrina's chest seized as if a deadly poison had finally taken hold of him.

With the ramp now several feet above his head, he could just barely jump to grab on. His feet kicked the air, his fingers without a decent grip. The first round of blue bolts swept by him but missed by mere inches.

"Hold on, friend!" Rokkna-1 returned with a silver can in his right hand. He activated the device and rolled it off the ramp while extending an arm to lift Vrina onboard.

As soon as it struck the ground, the canister popped and began to spray a viscous white smoke to obscure the underside of the ship; flashes of blue looked like lightning trapped in dense clouds. Once the Mikkian had been pulled in and was comfortable enough, the ramp inhaled and sealed with a pressurized click.

[cosmicsunsett]

911 Week 2020, Day 4: “Do you believe me?” + love

Read it on AO3

Los Angeles, September of 1979

It was unusual on Fridays to have so little movement in the store, Bucky thought.

Faithfully fulfilling his part-time job, Buck thought he couldn’t have found a better work, not only for his love of music, but by the conditions to which he had moved in to Los Angeles. To leave his hometown had been harder than he anticipated and planned ever since he was a teenager, inspired by dreams shared with Maddie of leaving his parents’ house to build a new life, find out what he wanted and who he was.

Puffing out his cheeks while he scratched his beard, he shook his head when he heard the voice of his older sister warning him that he needed to ground himself and stop daydreaming about a place where everything was perfect and people were good by default. Buck knew that sometimes his own heart deceives him, and that he preferred to believe in the kindness of people, but he also wasn’t an idiot. Before becoming a guest in the Grant Nash’s residence, Buck went through situations he’d pretty much love to erase from his memories forever. Still, he used to joke with Maddie, saying that he had this thing, which allowed him to sense the energy in people.

And it wasn’t exactly because of that that his eyes were attracted to the familiar singing of the bell when a man entered the record store.

Don’t go breaking my heart by Elton John played low on his earphones while he cleaned one disk shelf until his eyes returned to the person that just came in, the unfamiliar man’s pace was calm as he walked the main aisle. Embarrassed, Buck caught himself trying to memorize the smallest details of the stranger. Well defined jaw, unruly beard, brown hair tamed with gel, and hands inside his jeans pockets, jeans that highlighted well his…

Well Buck, not the proper time.

Especially when those brown eyes, which were curious before, now stared at him.

“Hi.” Buck blurted, suddenly nervous.

“Hi.”

A moment of silence followed their exchange before the man arched one eyebrow.

“What?”

“Are you buying anything or what?” Buck crossed his arms under the constant stare from the man.

“Well, with this reception I’m not sure.” The man shrugged, smiling a certain way that, on Buck’s eyes, was a tad arrogant, very different from those eyes, that shone with a silent defiance, outshining some of the curiosity that was still there since he entered the store.

“Dad!” A kid’s voice flooded the silent store. Buck observed as the boy walked with utmost happiness to the man he was just now talking to. Looked foolish, but at that moment a open smile appeared on his face. “You were taking too long! We came to fetch you.”

A smiling lady soon entered following the small kid, but she moved her attention from the Diaz boys to Buck’s isolated presence near the record players.

“Good afternoon, feel free to look around.” Buck greeted, approaching the woman and shaking her hand.

“Apologies for this nosy kid, he enters everywhere as if it were his own.��� She laughed, gesticulating towards Eddie and Chris.

“Which one?” Buck gave the lady his best innocent smile as he watched the other man’s expression turn skeptic and slightly enraged a few meter away. For Buck’s own joy, the lady next to him laughed, conscious of Buck’s sass.

“Oh, both. But I’m already used to it.”

“Abuela!” Eddie’s eyes widened while Chris laughed, hugging his father.

“Isabel, it’s a pleasure meeting you.” Isabel smiled at Buck, oblivious to her grandson’s drama. “When we have more time, I promise that Edmundo and I will be back to buy some records.”

“Oh, please, I’ll be around to help you. It’ll be my pleasure!” Buck approached the kid, almost completely hidden between Eddie’s legs. He crouched to Chris’ height. “Same goes for you, kid. Chris, right?”

The boy nodded and smiled wide, making Buck feel an intense affection for him.

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Buck.” The blond could feel evaluating eyes over his head, but his attention was a hundred percent on the little sunshine in front of him.

“It’s a funny name,” Chris laughed, leaning against his crutches and briefly pointing to Buck’s face. “Did you get hurt?”

“Chris.” Eddie’s voice resounded around the store with a warning, but Buck only chuckled.

“It’s ok, Buck is a funny name. And this,” he touched his own forehead next to his eyebrows, “it’s a birthmark. And hey, you wanna know what? You can come here any time and listen to any music, or even just to talk, okay?”

“Okay, very well, you’re going to miss your class and no one here wants that. Let’s get going. Don’t forget to say goodbye, okay?” Eddie tousled Chris’ hair affectionately.

“Bye, Buck!” Chris said, loving all the attention the adults were giving him, “I’ll come back!”

Eddie sighed, closing his eyes. Buck’s own met Isabel’s, who only shrugged.

“Oh, I’m counting on it. A high five!” Buck stretched out his hand and smiled  sweetly when Chris high fived him. “That’s it kid, I’ll see you soon.”

Isabel went ahead with Chris, both waving a last time to Buck, who was observing them with a smile, utterly infected by this entire family sympathy.

Well, almost the entire family.

His wide smile diminished a little, turning into an almost malicious little thing as he held a look with those brown eyes. He could even rival it with the arrogant smile that Eddie gave him not long ago.

“Goodbye, Buck.” Eddie deflected his gaze, going in the direction of the exit.

“See you, Eddie,” he shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes still resting on the figure, that, save one last look towards Buck, exited the store without turning back, leaving something inside Buck that he would only find out later.

-

As the party globe spun slowly on the ceiling, the flashes of colorful lights danced around the floor and the walls of the almost empty nightclub, illuminating briefly the place that normally was swimming with people. That was one of Buck’s favorite places. He remembered with a small smile the rare occasions when he and his friends managed to meet up and come to this nightclub to drink, talk and dance after a long day at work.

However, his smile became faint, becoming more melancholic as he thought that the nightclub would be an appropriate place for a meeting with a friend, masking as a potential date. His blue eyes, priorly excited and anxious, gazed woefully at the table that he had prepared for himself and Eddie. He sighed, remembering earlier in the week when he surprised his best friend in his own house.

“So,” Buck let it slip, maintaining his face as neutral as possible, a far contrast from his heart, which was beating so strongly, he could hear it if he wanted. “I was thinking-”

“Dangerous, Evan.” Eddie smiled while drying the plates Buck was passing him after he finished washing them.

“Shut up,” Buck laughed, nudging Eddie with his shoulder. Gulping drily, Buck tried to pay attention to the glass jar he lathered under tap. “Are you free friday night?”

“This friday? I think so, yeah. Why?” Eddie creased his brows, clearly not missing the way Buck’s ears became tinted in pink. His eyes rested a little longer than they should on Buck’s birthmark, a weak spot for all the feelings Eddie was useless trying to dodge for more than a year. “Do we need to bury someone?”

Buck whined, laughing while giving Eddie the jar, who promptly caught it and dried it clean with a dishcloth.

“Can you take me seriously for only one instant, I’m trying to say something serious, Eduardo.”

Eddie poked Buck hard on the hips, bringing up a laugh from Buck.

“Go on.”

Buck gulped again, preferring to stare at the glass in his hands as they apparently are more interesting than the hazelnut eyes staring at him intently. He knew his own face was hot, probably blushing, especially when he recognized, on the background, Our Love by Bee Gees playing on the old radio of the small kitchen at the Diaz’ household.

“I wanted to know if you…” Buck sighed, rolling his eyes and throwing the cautious he didn’t have with other people in moments like this away. But Buck knew pretty well why he was walking on eggs on that moment.

It wasn’t just an occasion. It wasn’t just any other person.

Buck could be a cheesy person, but deep inside he knew Eddie was his one. To discover this love, fight against it and coexist with it for so long, even knowing about the obstacles, didn’t make the feeling disappear. It only grew and grew until it became unbearable sometimes to stand by his friend’s side.

“Buck.”

You alone are the living thing that keeps me alive

And tomorrow if I'm here without your love

You know I can't survive

Only my love can raise you high above it all

His blue eyes pursued Eddie’s calloused hand, which, now, was covering his own full of foam. He knew his best friend was only trying to calm him, but the intention had another result.

“Do you want to go out with me friday night? I mean, we’ll still go out on Thursday with everyone else, but on Friday would be… only you and me.”

If Buck tried to specify how long it took for Eddie’s eyes to leave his own, he wouldn’t be able to say. Even knowing his best friend as well as the palm of his own hand, for the first time Buck couldn’t decipher the feelings behind Eddie’s expression.

Eddie’s hand hesitated over his, pulling away for a moment before Buck almost broke the glass he held while he reached for Eddie’s hand back.

“Listen, listen” buck squeezed his hand, pulling Eddie close, “I know, alright? I know you, Eddie Diaz, and I know a little about your story and I respect it. I know you and Shannon are still married and I know that you respect your marriage and I don’t want to interfere-”

Buck was surprised to see Eddie scoffing, almost incredulously.

“Buck, you’re interfered since the first time I saw you in that record store.”

He didn’t know how to respond.

“I… sorry?”

Eddie shook his head, his smile turning more intimate, private, the one Buck loved the most, because he liked to think that smile was one that Eddie only ever smiled on moments like this between them.

“Don’t be. But Buck, you know that I… Chris-”

“Eddie, you know I’d give my life to that kid and I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt him. He’s my favorite Diaz, after all.” Buck smiled as he remembered the three of them listening so some records on the living room after dinner. “I wouldn't dream of ending up destroying anything, but I just…”

Eddie knew. He knew, every day, even when Buck wasn’t with him, Eddie could see on that moment what he and Buck try hard to hide from one another, and from themselves. It took a long time for Eddie to escape the auto denial bubble, and that Buck and he were more than simply best friends with a greater intimacy. But damn, after a year, that feeling, ever since that pair of blue eyes faced him from the back of the record store, Eddie had to deal with that certainty, even if he tried to destroy it by pulling away from Buck, ignoring him, denying him, fighting against what he feels when Buck catches his eyes, how he laughs when telling a horrible joke, when he seems confused by the malicious comments their friends say about them, when he cries observing the commercials on the TV, when he closes his eyes, immersed in the song in his headphones or simply when he carries Chris and dance with him throughout the entire house.

Eddie tried and failed by missing that he was falling in love with Buck, but it was there. As clear and pure as daylight. And he knew the feeling was mutual, because the love that Buck gave to others was difficult not to notice.

But them… they were something else. Both always knew, but had never taken a step foward.

“Eddie Diaz, are you with me?”

Eddie blinked, snapping his attention to the tall man in front of him, apparently very nervous, because he begun feeling his hand being tightened, now also full of foam.

“It can be what you like, a date or a date between friends, we can go to the nightclub, just the two of us, drink and talk about nothing in particular.” Before he could notice, Buck begun speaking faster, “I don’t even know why I said that, I completely respect you, Eddie, I know how it’s hard and new to you, damn, even to myself, but look, you know what? We can totally-”

“Okay.”

“-go out with Chris an-”

Buck choked, his words interrupted  with surprise. His blue eyes wide, almost as scared as when Eddie and he would go to the cinema with their friends to watch some horror movie.

“It can be whatever I want, right?” a nervous grin bloomed on Eddie’s lips, “A date or-”

“Of course! Yes, of course.” Buck nodded frantically, licking his lips suddenly, his heart threatening to spill from his mouth. “Wait, Eddie, are you sure?”

Smooth, Evan. Very slow and smooth.

“No, but what the hell. After all, it can be whatever I want, right?” Eddie came closer, the height difference forcing his hazelnut eyes to look from Buck’s pink lips up to the crystal blue eyes again, staring intently. “What we want?”

“Well, what I really want right now is to kiss you.”

Buck 1, Smoothness 0

“Buck!” Eddie shoved the taller man slightly, shaking his head when he caught a glimpse of the wide smile growing on Evan’s face. “You can’t be real.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll always go slow for you, don’t worry. Just, well, you know, it slipped.” Buck laughed, pulling Eddie in for a hug, melting when, after a few seconds later, Eddie’s arms circled his hips. “Everything on its time, alright?”

Eddie didn’t answer, but his arms brought Buck’s body closer yet, resting his face in a prefect fit under Buck’s neck, forgetting for a moment of the world around them and feeling good for listening to his heart instead of his head for the first time in a long while.

Evan checked his watch and sighed, thinking that after two hours from the agreed meeting time, Eddie had probably forgotten.

Or after the great disappointment his best friend suffered yesterday, he realized that he wasn’t ready. That it wasn’t the right time. And as he remembered the pain and hurt embed on Eddie’s eyes when their gazes met, he knew it would be a bad idea to keep pressing on something that maybe would be for the best to continue as it was.

Even if his heart broke into pieces when Buck though how much he wanted them, how he wanted Chris. Bitterly, he looked to the backdoor of the nightclub and he flinched as he remembered of the exact moment yesterday, sitting together with Hen, Chim and Maddie on the sabe table as he sat today. Almost involuntarily, he could feel the familiar pull of Eddie’s eyes over him, even in a room full of people, dancing, drinking and smoking.

As he snorted a laugh next to Maddie while chatting, the beer bottle that came to his lips never arrived at its destination when Buck lifted his eyes up and stared as a familiar figure came walking by the side door of the nightclub.

“Oh, finally arrived the real reason for Buck’s eyes to outshine the globe over our heads.” Chim joked, laughing with Hen, who followed his intense gaze at Eddie’s direction as the man tried to dodge the people on the dance floor.

“This ain’t a nice surprise!” Maddie smiled while greeting Eddie when he approached the table, looking apparently uncomfortable with the Night Fever’s noise that echoed around. Buck smiled, remembering Eddie mumbling the other day when he invited him to meet up with their friends.

After everyone greeted Diaz, he approached Buck, who was still sitting, his azure eyes almost shining under the colorful lights. Eddie always thought he was being discreet while admiring Buck’s obvious beauty, but everytime, it felt like the floor under his feet moved on its own accord when he let himself stare at the details most people didn’t notice in Buck.

And, well, in Buck’s opinion, to be the target of such a powerful stare as the one he was receiving now, and had received over a long time, was a privilege. It wasn’t intimidating, like how it felt when they first met, but it was close to feeling…

Desired. Truly.

“Buckley.”

“Diaz.” the taller man stood, pointing to the empty chair next to him and Maddie on the table.

“What’s this? Preliminaries?” Chim asked, whispering over Maddie’s ear, and she nudged her boyfriend with her elbow.

“I should have pressed Karen to come with me, at least that way I wouldn’t have to be the third wheel.” Hen pointed out bitterly before taking a sip of his drink. Chim and Maddie exchanged a smile before both set of eyes turned to Buck, who cleared his throat and weaved his hand through his blond curls, almost messy.

Ignoring the small murmurs next to them, Evan leaned closer to Eddie as he sat down.

“Want anything to drink? To eat?”

“A beer would be great, thanks.” Eddie smiled pleased for the beer that Buck opened for him, “So, Bobby bothered you a lot today? He doesn’t stand your late arrivals much, from what I know.”

“Oh, please, Buck only needs to give him the puppy eyes and Pops forgives him like that, easy.” Hen replied, aware of the fact that friend got twenty minutes delayed at the fire station that morning. And by the huge smile on his face that same morning, she suspected the reason why.

Well, the reason was practically sitting next to him. With teeth showing off on a beautiful smile, darker skin and brown eyes.

“Hey, and Chris’ science project? How did it go?” Buck turned his attention back to Eddie as they fell into their own little bubble.

“With the extra help he got, he couldn’t have gotten a better mark. Buck, he was almost jumping when I went to get him from school. Showing off his big mark to all his classmates.”

Buck laughed, enjoying the image of his little man happy with his conquest.

“I can’t imagine from whom he got that exhibicionism.” Buck joked, and Eddie rolled his eyes, not missing Buck’s sass, “Really, I don’t know why you complain so much when I invite you out, I know that deep inside you like it”

“I just…”

“live home. Living the exciting life of an eighty years old man.” Buck added, sipping his bear.

“I may be a eighty years old man, but at least I don’t wear flare pants.”

“Hey! They are trending, okay?” Buck shoved him with his shoulders, laughing in unison.

“I spent too much time dodging from this kind of fun, that I simply forgot how one lived aside from taking care of one’s son and working. After I enlisted, my life became my obligations and-”

“Eddie,” Buck placed a hand on the man’s thigh, trying to calm him. “I know. You are an amazing dad. And luckily for Shannon, an amazing husband. And unfortunate for me.”

Eddie didn’t answer, he only stared at Buck in answer, knowing full well of the implications of his best friend’s words. He could imagine what was going through in that blond head, and he couldn’t even count on his fingers all the moments that they could have taken the next step, but Buck never tried to push the limits, even if both knew that Eddie and Shannon were getting closer and closer to a divorce. Eddie hadn’t spoken that morning with Buck about it, but his (still) wife was arriving Los Angeles on the next morning for a chat.

Eddie opened his mouth to reply, when the Disco Inferno echoed on the background, together with the excited shouts from the people on the dancing floor.

“Ok, let’s go, Maddie, it’s time to show what we a capable of.” Chim pulled his girlfriend by the hand when they rose from the table.

“Don’t hurt yourself on the dancing floor, Chim.” Buck said mockingly, and Hen cheered him with her drink. Turning to Eddie with a invitation to dance on the tip of his tongue, Eddie’s eyes got caught to a distant point, far from the dance floor and close to the bar.

Curious to see what had caught Buck’s attention, Eddie made to turn his face, but was stopped by two large familiar hands on either side of his face, preventing him from turning.

“What’s happening?” Eddie frowned, confused while he stared at the shocked eyes of his best friend, before they turned back to him, “Buck, what is it?”

“Eddie, I-”

The older man pulled out from the hot squeeze of Buck’s hands and turned to see what had happened to have gotten Buck so disconcerted, until he saw it, and on that second, he regretted it.

Far away on the dance floor, even through the darkness only illuminated by the colorful lights blinking on and off, Eddie could have recognized that flowery dress anywhere. Male arms were a contrast against the yellow tone of the dress as they circled around the waist he had memorized for almost thirteen years of marriage. They looked like any other couple around them, dancing and kissing happily.

Meanwhile, Eddie felt his heart drop to his stomach.

Before Buck could react, his eyes widened to see Eddie stand up and march towards the bar, where Shannon and the unfamiliar man were dancing closely.

“Eddie, Eddie! Wait!” Buck followed, ignoring Hen’s protests as he tried to catch up with his friend, but it was difficult to dodge so many people on a crowded space.

Only a few steps before Eddie could reach them, but Buck managed to intervene, pulling the man by the hand to his direction, completely aware of the powerful tugs Eddie was doing to free himself. Until that finally both managed to exit from the side door of the nightclub, being greeted by the chilly fresh air of the night.

“What the fuck was that, Buck?” The expression on Eddie’s face was furious, and if it wasn’t from the firm hold Buck had on his arms, he would have already turned back inside. “Let me go!”

“No, Eddie, I know full well what you plan to do, but please, don’t do it. It’s not worth it.”

“And so what? I’m not worth it?” Eddie shouted in the middle of the almost deserted street, aside from a couple of youngsters smoking next to the nightclub’s corner. Finally managing to get off Buck’s grip, he panted for air, but his heart was far from being tight. He wasn’t going to cry, he didn’t want it. “I was trying, Buck, trying really hard for our marriage, and she was betraying me all this time and I-”

“Eddie-”

“No!” Eddie took two steps away when Buck tried to come close. “I’m tired, Buck. I even thought we could have tried again, who knows, maybe we could have gone traveling, or tried having another child, I don’t know.”

Buck gulped dry, nodding as he felt the chilly breeze touch his face. He hated seeing Edde like that, completely defeated as his eyes shone, betraying the tears his friends tried to hold back.

“I wanted to do it because deep inside I knew it was the best thing to do” Eddie scoffed, running a hand down his face. Biting his lips, he shook his head. “In the end, you’re right. I placed my happiness so low and I only hurt myself. I placed us both last, and for what? And Christopher? I only ended hurting my son and you.”

“No, Eddie, is not like that.” Buck answered, trying to catch Eddie’s eyes even when he looked far away from Buck. “ You wanted what’s best for your family, and I get that, and I support you. This was not your fault, none of what happened is.”

“So why don’t I feel any better?”

Buck opened his mouth but promptly closed as he watched as the sorrowful hazelnut eyes stared back. His shoulders slumped, brown hair sticking out in every direction due to the breeze, alike Buck’s. Eddie searched for answers Buck couldn’t give. And it hurt, it hurt seeing someone he loved being wounded.

“I’m an idiot.”

“Wait, Eddie-”

Buck followed Eddie quickly as they distanced themselves from the nightclub.

“I’ll give you a lift.”

“I think I prefer walki-”

“Look, I’ll give you all the time you need. And your space. I won’t pressure you. I promise.” hesitating, Buck cupped Eddie’s cold hand with his. “Just, please, let me take you home.”

Eddie’s expression told him he would clearly fight to contradict Buck’s request, he seemed ready to pull away and leave, but he was too tired to do much. So, he let himself get gently dragged to the green beetle car that was parked only a few blocks away.

After a few minutes, both were parking in front of the Diaz’ household. The silence was immense in the beetle, but soon Eddie’s fingers searched for the latch on the door. Before he could leave, Buck asked, voice almost a whisper.

“Tomorrow’s not a good idea, huh?”

Eddie looked at him confused before he closed his eyes, clearly remembering their ‘date’. His stomach folded into itself as he remembered the scene at the nightclub, and he didn’t have energy to stay close no anyone.

Not even Buck.

“I’m so sorry,” he averted his eyes, not bearing to see the sadness on those blue eyes he had learned to love in so little time.

“Hey, I need to keep the hope up for us, right?” Buck smiled, barely reaching his eyes. “Give Chris a kiss for me”

Eddie nodded, opening the car door and leaving.

“And Eddie?” Buck waited Diaz to turn around and face him. “You know where to find me. You’re not alone.”

Not trusting his voice, Eddie climbed up to his house. When he closed the door behind himself, he smiled sadly as he heard the faint sound of the green beetle fading away, leaving only then the tears to fall, submerged by the darkness of his house.

Shoving his thoughts away, Buck rose and walked towards the exit. His fingers were ready to pull the power lever and close the place when his eyes betrayed him, falling on the side door. His heart almost dropped from his chest when he saw a figure entering the empty nightclub, his hesitant steps coming his way.

“Eddie?” Buckley walked to the center of the dance floor, recognizing the curves and traces of his best friend, soaking wet, probably because the rain was heavy outside the nightclub and Buck hadn’t notice. The eyes he admired so much, now puffy and wet and he was sure it weren’t from the rain. “Are you okay?”

Brown eyes stared on only a few steps away. Eddie flicked his eyes away for a moment, briefly sparing his attention fo the table set for two behind Buck before they flicked back to the blue pair that were set on him. Eddie approached, seeming smaller and different from the usual Eddie Diaz he knew and loved.

“Evan…”

Buck waited.

And waited until the other man’s shaking voice echoed over the room.

“And if one day you realize that I’m not enough for you?”

Oh, Eddie.

Buck gulped dry, closing the distance between then until he felt the warm breathing of his friend against his. He closed his eyes as he felt a cold and wet hand cupping his face, and smiled as he felt the familiar carressing on his beard, so alike the gentle touch of Chris when Buck told him stories.

Opening his eyes, he tried to transmit truly what his heart longed to tell Eddie all the time.

When he smiled.

When he played with Chris.

When he mocked Buck for his stupid jokes, only to make him smile. Or even when he say the green beetle was too small for a man almost two meters tall like Buck.

When he tried to hide is sigh when Buck hugged him, most times without his consent.

When he got angry and fumed in spanish as he tried to cook, or when they thought about minor things.

When he noticed a stranger on the record store he worked at months ago.

“I love you, Eddie. And I think this feeling inside me will never leave.” Buck murmured, hugging the man’s waist. “You are more than enough. You and Chris are family.”

With his hand still cupped on Buck’s face, Eddie pulled him even closer, touching their foreheads together. Eddie could try naming what it felt like being surrounded by the huge arms of his best friend, isolated inside an empty nightclub while the rain poured outside, yet all seemed wrong.

But safety and trust was everything Buck gave him, and so, he meant to retribute for a long, long time.

Aside from that special word. His head was still swirling with the three words spoken by Buck with such an ease, so different from even himself, who holds them closer yet to his chest. The heavy feeling only grew.

“I have your back, Eddie.”

“I have yours.”

Buck squeezed Eddie’s arm, as if nothing else mattered aside from that moment. A few moments go on like this before Don’t go breaking my heart started playing on the amplifiers and Buck laughed low against Eddie’s temple, feeling the wet locks of his hair against his lips.

“What?” Eddie asked, suddenly curious to know what was going through Buck’s head.

Slowly, Buckley swayed them from one side to the other, and Eddie let himself be taken away, hugging and being hugged in return, smiling genuinely for the first time after what occurred last night.

“Don’t go breaking my heart, you take the weight off of me” Buck sand under Eddie’s ear. “Come on, Diaz, gimme what you got.”

Eddie tried to ignore the baits Buck was leaving, until the taller man swirled him around, making him laugh surprised with his dance moves. It wasn’t the first time that he observed Buck dance, but alone, it seemed that Buck would let himself act more foolish than he normally would act. He observed in ecstasy his friend close his eyes, laughing and singing, moving his hips awkwardly before opening them again and sing the chorus line from Elton John’s song.

Woo hoo

Nobody knows it

When I was down

I was your clown

Woo hoo

Nobody knows it

 “Hey now, I know what you’re thinking, it’s not nice.” Buck pulled him back by his hand, making Eddie laugh freely. Diaz’ arms enveloped his large shoulders, letting himself be guided by the lyrics of the song and Buckley moves, feeling his own breathing against the neck of the taller man. “I know you have talented moves, don’t you hide it.”

“You are way more talented than me, I would say.” Eddie said sarcastically, laughing at the contrasting expression on the face of someone so tall and strong that more looked like a seven years old boy mentally.  

“Right from the start, I gave you my heart” Buck hugged Eddie again, getting back to following the song’s beat together, wishing more than anything to freeze this moment.1 The feeling took hold of him when his best friend chanted the following words from the song.

“Do you believe me?” Buck asked, holding Eddie on his arms.

“Oh-oh, I give you my heart.” Eddie answered singing against Buck’s face, swinging from one side to the other, letting himself act foolish and enjoying the moment. Like he had thought so many times before, tomorrow’s not promised. When he felt Buck’s laugh, he smiled, fool and in love.

But today, on that rainy night as Elton John echoed around them and Buck was in his arms, it was all he could have wished for.

[homeworldrunawaysau]

But That’s Just How The Story Goes

Summary: Steven Universe Gem AU- Rubellite meets a Young Thomas Ships: N/A. Platonic all around. Warnings: Gem Corruption, fighting, mild peril/distress??, weapons, some almost-crying.... Yea no this is cute as heck for the most part.   

Gainesville, Florida, 1996 -

Thomas was playing outside his house, enjoying his summer vacation at his aunt Patty who lived by the beach and was having fun when he heard a strange, loud, scary noise in the distance. Now, being six years old, his curiosity greatly outweighed his fear of the unknown and the dangers of running into it with no plan, so that’s exactly what he did.

When he got to the source of the noise Thomas found the strangest and scariest thing he’d ever seen, and before he could even comprehend the monster before him, he saw someone jumping at it, attacking it and keeping it from going any further where it could hurt people. So naturally, Thomas came closer to get a better look at the action.

Rubellite has been fighting this beast for hours, but it was very durable and nearly impossible to dissipate. He hasn’t faced that many corrupted gems before, most of them sticking to beach city where Rose Quartz resided, but he’s had some experience! This shouldn’t be so hard!

Just as he was about to attack it with his katana again, he noticed a young human approaching him and the beast, looking awed and amazed, and seemingly unaware of the risk he is putting himself in, and he rushed towards the small child, intending to tell him that he needs to leave. But the monster jumped high and landed in front of him, blocking his way and standing between him and the boy, and letting out its demonic, unsettling shriek.

“Out of my way you weird, stinky, octopus thing! I need to save that human!” Rubellite protested angrily and rushed past the monster to the young boy.

The monster roared with what seemed to be indignation and flailed its tentacles in the air in rage, demanding Rubellite’s attention.

“Go red guy! Defeat the monster!” Thomas cheered happily from where he was sitting at a fairly safe distance.

“That’s not my name, and you need to get out of here! It’s not safe for you!” Rubellite answered as he finally reached the boy.

“But you’re here, so I’m safe right? You can stop the monster!” Thomas said with the conviction of someone who was saying that the sky is blue, to him this stranger was a hero, and heroes stopped the bad guys and protected the innocent. It was crystal clear.

Rubellite was impressed by how brave this kid was but even more shocked that he trusted this strange red person with a katana to not only stop a giant monster but also keep a small human safe. He knew there was no talking this kid out of staying to watch what was probably a very entertaining show for him, so instead he gave him a dazzling smile and spoke with his usual confidence.

“You’re right, my small friend! I can indeed protect you from this foul beast, but I must ask that you stay where you are! Sit tight and don’t act recklessly, and all will be well. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah! Now go defeat that thing, because it's coming for you!” Thomas exclaimed excitedly and pointed behind the hero’s back, where the monster had started running towards him.

Rubellite quickly raised his katana and whipped it at the monster as he turned to face it, the blade bending to form a kind of whip, and then he spun it fast above his head until it became more of a lasso.

“Holy Smokes!” Thomas yelled, having witnessed just about the coolest thing ever in his 6-year-old little life.

“Time to finish this!” Rubellite announced, determination clear in his voice, and if anyone were to look in his eyes at that moment, they would see his fear over the possibility of failure, because if he failed it wouldn’t just be him getting hurt, it would also be this young boy whom he promised he would protect.

With a grunt of effort, Rubellite tightened the lasso, causing the monster to let out a desperate roar, almost sounding like a cry for help. Like it’s begging. For mercy? For Rubellite to finish the job? He wasn’t sure, but it shook him to his core for some unknown reason. Deciding he’ll dwell on it later, he kept pulling the lasso tighter and tighter until finally-

*POOF!*

Thomas clapped his hands loudly and excitedly, rushing towards the hero. “That. Was. AWESOME!” he yelled excitedly.

Rubellite laughed at the child’s enthusiasm. “I’m glad you think so, little friend. But there is still one last thing for me to do to ensure that you and every other citizen is safe from this foul beast!” he allowed himself to slip into his dramatic and charming persona, now that the worst was behind him.

But just as he picked up the corrupted gem to bubble it, he saw what, or rather who, it was.

That Navette cut gem was not only undeniably a Heliotrope, the red dots that nearly overtook the entirety of the green gem, even though Heliotropes are only supposed to have a few red dots and be predominantly green, made Rubellite absolutely certain that he had just fought and poofed his own brother.

“Oh, Bloodstone… I’m so sorry,” he whispered, fighting back tears and choked sobs as he held the gem, running his fingers over it for a few seconds. He always knew that some, if not most of the corrupted gems were Crystal Gems, but knowing it in his head and seeing it with his own eyes were two very different things.

“Are you okay, mister?” the child’s voice suddenly snapped him out if his thoughts, and he took a shaky breath. ~Get it together Rubellite! This kid thinks you’re a hero, if you cry in front of him he’ll be worried and scared!~ he scolded himself and took a deep, slightly more stable breath this time, before turning to Thomas with another charming smile, though his eyes shined with unshed tears.

“Of course, young adventurer! I’m absolutely fine, just a little tired from the fight. But it’s over now. Well actually-” he paused for dramatic effect and demonstrated the bubbling process to the young boy

“Now, it’s over!” as he tapped the bubble and saw it disappear, he knew that his brother would be safe with the crystal gems, which made him feel a little better.

“That was so cool! How did you do all those things? Are you magic?” Thomas started asking a lot of questions and Rubellite smiled fondly.

“Tell you what kid, you answer a question from me, and I’ll answer a question from you. Is that alright?”

“Okay!”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Thomas Sanders. What’s your name?”

“My name is Rubellite!”

“What? That’s not a real name!” Thomas laughed as if Rubellite told a very funny joke.

“Oh yeah? Well, what do you think my name is?” He asked Thomas with a small smile.

“Hmm… Ronald?”

“That’s not it. Try again.”

“Robby!”

“Not that either.”

“I’ll find out, you’ll see!”

“I’m sure you will, Thomas.”

“But wait, are you really magic?”

“Kind of. I’m from another planet if you call that magic.”

“You’re from space? No way!!”

“Yes way! Okay, next question. How old are you?”

“I’m six years old!”

“Oh my stars! That is very young!”

“Oh yeah? How old are you?”

“I’m thousands of years older than you, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah right! Nobody is thousands of years old!”

“Maybe no human is, but I’m an alien, remember?”

“So you’re really thousands of years old? That’s amazing! How long have you been on earth? Did you know a lot of old-timey people? Oh! Is your name Romeo?”

“Romeo? Like the characters from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet?”

“Yeah!”

“How does a six-year-old know Shakespeare’s plays?”

“My aunt Patty likes to read it out loud a lot, sometimes out of nowhere. She also told me he lived a long time ago, so if you were here at that time maybe you knew him and he named his character after you!”

“That is a nice thought but if that were the case the play would have been called Rubellite and Juliet. Say, that doesn’t sound half bad…” Rubellite chuckled lightly.

“I don’t believe it! I know you have a real name! Rubellite is just like your hero name, right? Like Spiderman! his real name is Peter Parker!”

“You like comic books?”

“Yeah! I like superheroes! They’re so cool and brave, and they’re never afraid to help and they have lots of friends!”

“You know, I happen to know a team of superheroes myself. You could say I’m one of them.”

“Really? Who are they?”

“They’re called the Crystal Gems! They fight to protect the earth from monsters and evil aliens.”

“But, aren’t you an alien?”

“Yes, but there are good aliens and bad aliens, just like there are good and bad humans. The Crystal Gems are the good aliens and they fight anyone who threatens the earth because they left their planet to be free. Here on earth, they can be whoever they choose to be!”

“Wow! So you wanted to be a hero?” Thomas looked hopeful and curious.

“Not always. When I first came to earth, I was very young and very different. All I wanted was to be myself, to be allowed to exist. My planet didn’t like who I am, but Rose Quartz, the leader of the crystal gems, told me that I am exactly who I need to be because I’m who I choose to be.”

“So when did you become a hero?”

“When we started fighting for the earth. Our planet wanted to destroy the earth with all the gems who left to live in it, but we stopped them! And now we stop these monsters as well.” Rubellite explained with as little detail as possible, as to not frighten young Thomas, though his voice faltered a bit, no longer feeling comfortable calling his fallen friends monsters.

He always thought that if he kept referring to them as monsters, fighting them would be easier, but it’s not. He now knows it’s never gonna be easy for him.

“So wait, how long have you been on earth for? We’re you here before Shakespeare?” Thomas was still wondering about that part, there was no way he was around before Shakespeare, right? He lived like, a million years ago!

“Oh much longer! I’ve been on earth for almost 6000 years!” Rubellite said proudly, knowing Thomas will find this impressive.

“Wow! I can’t believe it! You’re so old!”

“That’s one way of putting it, I suppose.”

“Well, do you like Disney movies? Even though you’re so old? I like Disney but everyone tells me it’s just for kids because it’s cartoons.”

“Are you kidding? I love Disney! It’s so magical and fantastical and beautiful! And it is not just for little kids, thank you very much! They are wonderful animated movies and they are entertaining for every age. Even for aliens who are thousands of years old.”

“Really?!”

“Absolutely!”

Rubellite saw the sun was starting to set and he turned to Thomas. “well Thomas, it was nice meeting you but I think it’s getting a little too late for you to be outside, and you don’t wanna worry your parents.”

Thomas looked very sad, he didn’t wanna say goodbye to his new friend yet. “But I still need to guess your name!”

Rubellite frowned at the little kid’s sad expression, but then he got an idea.

“Well, I suppose because it’s getting late and you’re so tiny-”

“Hey!”

“It would be irresponsible of me to let you go home all by yourself. So maybe I can walk with you till you get home and you can try to guess my name. How does that sound?”

“That sounds fun! But what if you also try to guess my favorite Disney movie?”

“Alright, it’s on!”

And as the two started walking towards Thomas’s house, despite everything that had happened that day, Rubellite felt truly happy.

[act-addict-actors-matchups]

@lcst-at-5ea said,

Could I have a matchup please? I'm kinda short, I have dark eyes and short, straight black hair in a pixie cut. I'm a pretty chill ambivert, and I like art! I like to think that I'm funny, haha, but I'm also a massive procrastinator. I don't really have a type, other than dumbasses. I love them. I LOVE cuddles!! I'm obsessed with pirates, and I like acting and mythology, and drawing. I'm a Taurus, a Ravenclaw, and I'm an INFP, I think. Also, I'm a minor!

✧ Thank you for requesting a matchup, love. Stay safe and positive! 💞

✧ WARNING: there will be spoilers about Tenma’s backstory in ‘How You Two First Met’ part. Read at your own risk.

I’d match you with: . . .

➜ HOW YOU TWO FIRST MET ; Your first encounter with each other was in your elementary school. You weren’t close with each other though. In fact, he didn’t even know you existed back then. You, on the other hand, knew the name Tenma Sumeragi. I mean, who wouldn’t? Even from such a young age, it was possible to see his face on TV. His acting abilities were far from normal for a boy in his age. From his gestures to his facial expressions to his voice, everything was as good as it could be. So, needless to say you were not surprised when you heard that he got a major role for his class’s play for the the school festival. Something you were very excited for. Not only you were going to be free from some of the classes, you’d also get to see a play. Basically two birds with one stone. Even from such a young age, you were interested in the art of acting. So it really wasn’t that surprising when your friends found themselves getting dragged to somewhere near the stage the school put out. You really wished your class would do a play too but sadly, that wasn’t the case. After a while, the play started and you found yourself getting sucked into the story. That was until a boy with orange hair got to the stage. Tenma Sumeragi, to be more exact. You’ve seen the movies he was in before so you excitedly waited for him to say his line, just like everybody else did. To your surprise though, he was standing still, his purple eyes full of fear and panic. The red curtains closed on the other children who were on stage, indicating that the play was not to continue. A disappointed sigh escaped from your lips as everyone around you started to murmur about the poor boys accident. If you haven’t clearly seen the look in Tenma’s eyes, you would be probably whining just like everyone else. You really didn’t want to leave the school without checking up on the boy so you ran towards one of the cotton candy stands, leaving your friends behind and confused, and purchased two fluffy, sweet confections. With both of your hands full, you tried to make your way towards the backstage. It was now nearly empty, with a few students still talking with each other and some teachers. Your eyes immediately locked on the boy who was sitting on a box, head hung low. His orange hair covered his face but there wasn’t any people who could have that bright hair color. Putting on a smile, you ran towards the boy and sat down on the floor, giving him a little hello. The boy looked at you without saying anything and looked back down, clearly ignoring you. Getting up, only to sat down next to Tenma, you offered one of the cotton candies to him. His eyes shot back at you, surprised to receive something from a total stranger to him. Regardless, after hesitating for a second, he took the spun sugar confection from you, mumbling a thank you. You two ate the cotton candies in complete silence before you grabbed his hand and dragged him outside. On the way, he was shouting at you out of surprise, asking you what you were doing but you didn’t pay any mind to him. That day was spent going from one activity to another with each other. After that day, even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was stuck to you like a glue at school. He would occasionally come and visit your classroom on the breaks and you two would spend the entire break together or sometimes, you were the one who visited his classroom. With the blink of an eye, you two were very close friends, best friends even. Yeah, after graduating from elementary, you went to different middle and high schools but Tenma, despite his hectic schedule would always make time for you. You knew about the stage fear he developed, so in your second year of high school, when he told you he was going to try and get over his phobia, you were delighted and gave him your %100 support. Needless to say, you were given a ticket from the first row to Water Me!, his first stage play since elementary.

➜ PERSONALITY COMPATIBILITY ; Did you say you love dumbasses? Here, you can have him. Jokes aside, since you didn’t include that much of your personality, I’m going to base this part on your MBTI. I hope you don’t mind. Tenma is what you would call a 'tsundere.' He is a confident, arrogant boy who is not afraid to tell other people what he thinks but despite that cocky and self-centered attitude of his, he often feels pressured by the success of his parents and fears of disappointing them. Most INFP’s don’t just want to find a partner– they want to connect. So when Tenma tells you about his worries, which is harder for him than usual people, it’s your duty to make him feel safe and welcomed. Make him feel like he can tell you everything. Since he generally has trouble connecting with other people, he appreciates it and it means so much for him more than you can guess. INFP’s respect their partner’s independence, which is very important because Tenma is definitely not your usual high school boy. He’s always auditioning for a movie or a series, maybe even a commercial. On top of that, he has both school work and theater. Needless to say, he is a very busy person. Sometimes, this can lead you two not seeing each other for weeks, only some texts here and there. The reunion is always something you can look forward though. Don’t worry about being a procrastinator because Tenma will constantly remind you do to the things you have to do. Maybe he’ll even put a prize at the end, something like “If you manage to finish your assignments until Friday, I might take my precious time to come and visit you.” Listen, I know Tenma’s generally easily flustered but if he is able to say "You want attention that bad? Then practice a kiss scene with me." without any problems then he can easily say the former. No I don’t take criticism.

➜ SHARED ACTIVITIES ; Public and Tenma don’t exactly go well together since his face is basically everywhere so your dates are usually indoor ones. From watching each of your favorite childhood movies to making plans for the future, although the later is usually only when he’s particularly feeling soft. Movie nights are a classic for at-home dates, but one way to give it a particularly fun and connective spin is to pick out movies that mean something to each of you. For example, you take turns watching each person's favorite movie from when they were ages 5, 10, and currently. It's a great way to learn more about each other and can spark some interesting conversation and rediscovered memories to share. Planning for the future gives you something to look forward to, makes you feel more in control, and can make you feel closer as a couple because you're spending time thinking about a shared future together. You can also make other kinds of plans. For example, what if you spent an evening thinking through what you want to be doing one year from now, five years from now, and 10 years from now? You can write down what you come up with so you can reflect on it later. You love cuddling?? Ask this boy for some! He will try to be smug about it but deep down, he just wants to feel you close too! His arms would wrap around your shoulders, his chest pressed firmly against the muscles of your back. Slowly he would rub his hands up and down your arms, warming your skin, yet leaving more goosebumps than there had been previously. He wouldn’t always insist on conversation, it‘s enough for him usually to just have you in his arms. Both of your breathing would start to grow steady with sleep. Before you knew it, both of you were in the dreamland in each other’s arms.

➜ ZODIAC COMPATIBILITY ; Tenma’s birthday is on June 21th which makes him a Gemini. This pairing of consecutive signs frequently works out because the two share similarities by season, while still bringing different elements to the table. Taurus and Gemini are spring signs, and when they combine forces, we can discover a lot about how the world works and why life blooms on this planet to begin with. Both of you are content with time spent away and time spent together. Try using this cycle to your advantage. Know when to nurture each other and when to give each other space. By putting your best effort into this, you can strengthen your relationship ties. Taurus should not give up or get annoyed with Gemini for having too much flexibility in their mind. Taurus needs to be patient when possible and comfortable being more decisive. Neither of you can manipulate the other. Work to compromise and balance out your strengths. In a healthy Taurus-Gemini relationship, this combination will be a major team. They both have strong mental focus and, together, they can accomplish whatever they want. Bring about world peace? Sure! Bring about the world's end? Sure! They have the skills to link up and become truly united without feeling as though they are losing themselves.

[saveyourblood]

Stolen Dance | Ch. 3

Summary: “Maybe this was a pipe dream, a delusion you’d soon awake from or a phase you’d outgrow. You didn’t really care. For a brief moment in time, you were in love. That’s what you chose to care about. That what you made matter.”

The one where you’re a paramedic, he’s an FBI agent, and the time you spend together is borrowed.

Notes: 15k+ in and I still ain’t done. I’m like an annoying cockroach that lives under your fridge.

Word Count: 5k

Song: Someone to Stay - Vancouver Sleep Clinic

Warnings: starts out cute, ends up kind of dark. Mentions of kidnapping, trauma, usual CM warnings. 

_____________________

Clearing out your apartment was easier than you thought it would be; turns out, ever since you got back from Syria, you didn’t have much in terms of belongings. Being a soldier, you learned to pack light. You supposed you never made it out of that mindset. 

Saying goodbye to your parents was surprisingly easy. Of course, your dad couldn’t really argue, him being six feet under and all. You hoped he approved, wherever he was. Like your mom said — he’d want you to move on. 

Your mom managed to keep it together until the two of you were standing in the driveway, saying your ‘final’ goodbye. You caught her wiping away a few tears.

“Come on, mom, don’t cry,” you begged, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m just proud of you, honey,” she assured. She pulled away, setting her hands on your cheeks. “I’m a little sad, but mostly, I’m proud. I know this wasn’t an easy decision for you.”

“I’ll text everyday, and I’ll call you at least once a week,” you said. “I’ll be back for the holidays, too. And hey, maybe I’ll bring Spencer.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.”

You smiled and hugged your mom one last time. You got into your jeep, waved goodbye, and pulled out of the driveway. Only then did you let a few tears of your own fall.

They weren’t out of sadness, per se; you could feel the chapter ending, was all. You didn’t like endings. You didn’t like to say goodbye. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Spence,” you greeted warmly. You were standing at a gas station somewhere in Western Missouri — about halfway to Virginia.

“What are you doing up so early?” He asked. You could hear the sleep in his voice.

“Oh, shit, did I wake you up?” you said, feeling guilty. “I’ll call you back in a few hours.” 

“No, it’s okay,” he promised. “I like talking to you.”

You smiled again. “Do you like seeing me?” 

“Of course I do.”

“Can I take you out to breakfast Friday morning?” 

“How can you do that if you’re in Colorado?”

Your smile widened. “I never said I was in Colorado.”

“...You’re in Virginia?” He asked, confused.

“I’m on my way,” you answered. “I’m in Missouri now, so I should be there in two days.”

“Two days..?” He thought aloud. A moment of silence passed. “Oh my god, Y/N, are you driving?!”

“Of course I am,” you replied. “What else did you expect?”

“That’s over 1,500 miles!” He shouted. “Something could happen!”

You leaned against the jeep. “Like what?” “Anything! Your car could break down, your reservations could fall through, you could get kidnapped…”

“Spencer,” you said, cutting him off. “I lived in a warzone for 3 years. I can handle a 25-hour road trip.”

“Where are you? What’s your specific location in Missouri?” Spencer asked. You could hear shuffling.

“Does it matter?” “It does matter, because I’m gonna catch a flight,” he said. 

“No you are not!” You laughed. “I am fine, Spencer. I’m not letting you waste a couple grand on a last minute flight to Boondocks, Missouri.” He sighed. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“I have hotel reservations in Nashville,” you chuckled. “I should be there no later than 7 tonight.”

“And if you’re not?”

“Then I’ll call you,” you answered simply. “And if I don’t respond, I just gave your team a case. You’re welcome in advance.”

“This isn’t funny, Y/N!”

You covered your mouth to stifle your laughter. “You know, it’s a good thing we weren’t dating while I was in Syria,” you said, still giggling. “You wouldn’t have survived the first night, let alone 3 years.”

Silence.

“Spence, are you there?” you asked.

“You said we’re dating.” 

Your heart rate picked up. “Aren’t we?” you asked with a nervous chuckle. “I mean, you introduced me to your mom. Fuck-buddies don’t do that.” 

“I guess they don’t,” he ceded. You could practically see his smile. “Hey, why are you coming to Virginia anyways?”

“I can’t drive over 1,500 miles to see you?” you joked.

“You can, but you never have.”

That was a can of worms you didn’t feel like opening over the phone. 

“I’ll tell you when I get there,” you said. “I’ll call you at 7, let you know what’s going on.”

“Stay safe, okay Y/N?” 

You smiled. “Always.”

After filling up the jeep, you sat down in the driver’s seat with a sigh. You leaned your head back and closed your eyes for a moment. You wondered how Spencer would have reacted had you told him you had slept in your car the night before. 

You opened your eyes after awhile to see your dog tags hanging on the rearview mirror. You leaned forward, took them off, and  put them around your neck. You were closing a chapter in your life, so it seemed appropriate to remember the old ones. 

_____________________

You found your new apartment complex in no time, as it was only a few minutes from campus. You considered staying in the dorms, but ultimately decided against it for multiple reasons. It wasn’t much cheaper to live on campus, you being an out of state student, so financially, there was no benefit. Also, you’d been used to living on your own since the Army; you didn’t feel like living with a stranger in their early twenties at the oldest, 18 at the youngest. 

You parked in front so your stuff would be easier to move in. What you didn’t expect was seeing Spencer sitting on the front steps. 

“What are you doing here?!” you asked, jogging up to greet him. Without hesitation, you pulled him into a hug.

“I asked Garcia to do some digging,” he admitted. “You could have told me you were moving.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you grinned, pulling away. You brushed some hair out of his face.

“Believe me, I am surprised,” Spencer promised. Then, he grinned, grabbed you by the waist, and pulled you into a kiss. 

“You know, we can do this as much as we want now,” you said smugly after pulling away. 

“I guess so,” he smiled. He ran his thumb over your mouth, biting his bottom lip as he did so. 

“If you help me move in, I’ll let you stay the night,” you bribed, resting your arms on his shoulders. “We can order a pizza, watch a movie… do a little more than kissing.”

“You had me at ‘stay the night.’”

Just like moving out didn’t take much time, neither did moving in. Truthfully, you took the most time making your bed. The rest of your items were unpacked in less than an hour.

“Is this all of your stuff?” Spencer asked, looking around the bare room. 

You nodded. “Besides the stuff my mom has at home. I’m not very materialistic.” 

“Have you always been this way?” He inquired curiously.

“Ever since Syria,” you admitted. “Once you see how people in poverty live, a 70” flat screen doesn’t seem all that important, I guess.” 

Spencer took a seat on the couch. “You served for 3 years, right?”

“I thought you had an eidetic memory,” you teased, taking a seat beside him.

“I’m trying to be more conversational.”

“Just be yourself,” you encouraged. “I like you for you.”

He smiled, looking down.

“I was deployed for 3 years,” you said, despite him knowing the answer. “Served for a total of 5. I saw a lot of things. But no matter how bad it got, I knew the people in the situation had it so much worse. It’s like your work at the BAU — you see the worst of humanity, but you don’t suffer from it. It’s just your job to help the people that do.”

“Speaking of the BAU…” Spencer segued. “Have you called Hotch?”

“I… don’t know what to say,” you admitted. 

“I can talk to him for you, if you want,” Spencer offered.

“I’m a big girl: I can do it myself,” you replied. “Thank you, though.”

“Of course,” Spencer said, taking your hand.

Turns out, Spencer didn’t have to tell Hotch anything for him to figure out you were in Virginia. You got voicemail one afternoon, right after a different job interview. Hotch said he ‘got a hold of’ a letter of recommendation your former Sergeant Major wrote for you. He proceeded to say that, if you were still interested, he’d like to set up an interview. 

You called Spencer right away, and the minute you told him, he picked you up and spun you around with joy.

Who knew Virginia could be so great. 

_____________________

The hours before your interview was probably the most nerve-wracking moment of your life. You were terrified of failing, even more so than when you joined the Army. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you fluked this. 

“I’m gonna vomit,” you told Spencer, who was sitting at his desk in the BAU bullpen. Meanwhile, you were relentlessly pacing. “Or faint. Or both.” 

“You’re gonna do fine, Y/N,” Spencer assured. “I’ve never seen Hotch offer an interview to someone. As far as he’s concerned, you’re qualified.”

“Hey beautiful,” someone behind you remarked. You turned around to see Derek Morgan.

“Hey, Derek,” you smiled with some relief. 

“What brings you to Quantico?” He asked, taking a sip from his mug.

“An interview,” you answered simply. Had you continued, you would have rambled. It’s a nervous tick of yours.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “An interview for the BAU?”

You nodded. 

“Good luck, doll,” he said, patting your shoulder. “You’ll do great.” 

Suddenly, you felt Spencer take your hand. 

“Seriously, Y/N, you’ll nail it,” he promised. 

“Y/N Y/L/N?” Hotchner called from the balcony. 

You let go of Spencer’s hand, looking up. “Yes sir?”

“Ready when you are,” he said, then walked back into his office. 

You smoothed down your blouse, sucking in a breath. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it,” Spencer said with a smile. 

“Thanks,” you replied, taking a few steps towards the stairs. “Oh, and Spencer?”

He looked up.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you,” you said with a wink.

“She’s not wrong,” you heard Derek say before you made your way up the stairs. 

“Why do you think you’d be an asset to this team?” Hotchner asked.

You sat across from his desk, while Erin Strauss, the section chief, stood to the side. 

“Well, all of my former commanders speak very highly of me,” you started. “I was a combat medic in an active warzone for 3 years. I saved more lives than I can count, both civilian and fellow soldiers.” 

“While we appreciate your service,” Erin started, “all BAU agents hold a specific set of skills. What are your qualifications in terms of education?”

“I’m pursuing a degree in Psychology at the University of Virginia,” you informed. 

“What year are you in?”

“...I’ll be a freshman in a few months.”

Strauss shot Hotchner a look.

You pursed your lips, then let out a soft, almost inaudible chuckle. 

“Is something funny, Miss Y/L/N?” Stauss asked.

“No ma’am,” you assured. “It’s just… I’m twenty-five. I enlisted the second I turned eighteen, and I served my country for 5 years. Uncle Sam is paying for my degree, which I couldn’t pursue earlier, because like I said, I was serving my country.”

“And like I said, your service is appreciated,” Strauss countered. “But -”

“I get it,” you cut her off, feeling suddenly confident. “There are probably better candidates out there, at least on paper. You can hire someone that’s worked in the FBI for years, who’s taken the proper classes to become a profiler. I get it — they’re less of a risk. But I’m good in a crisis. I’ve worked in emergency medicine for 7 years, and for 3 of those years, I was being shot at while practicing. I could ace any physical or psychological evaluation you throw my way. And, even though it doesn’t mean much, I’ve been profiling since before I could spell my own name. Maybe there are better candidates out there, I honestly don’t know. But what I do know is that I could be pretty damn amazing, if you give me the chance. ...Ma’am.”

_____________________

Spencer invited you over for the night, but you couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than the interview. 

“I mouthed off to her,” you said, running your hands through your hair. “God, I’m an idiot. I’m never getting the job.”

“Y/N, come lay down,” Spencer said. His back was against the backboard, the book he was reading now in his lap. 

“I can’t, I’m pacing,” you mumbled, continuing to walk around his bedroom. 

Spencer didn’t say anything; he put his book on the nightstand, pulled the covers back, walked over to you, and set you down on the bed. He sat behind you and began rubbing your shoulders. 

“You’re smart, you’re strong, good under pressure, and more than qualified,” he said. “You’ll get a call back. Just give it some time.” 

You leaned into his touch, letting yourself relax for the first time all day. “You’re right. I’m sorry I’ve been so crazy. I just… really want this. I’m terrified that I ruined things for myself.”

“I’m sure you did better than you think,” Spencer said softly. “Strauss puts up a strong front, but she’s not as bad as she seems. All she wants is someone who can do the job well and stay out of trouble.”

You leaned your back against his chest. “Thank you,” you whispered. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his lips into your shoulder. You set your hands over his. 

You weren’t sure when the two of you fell asleep; all you knew is that you fell asleep on top of Spencer’s chest with your face buried in his neck. Normally, upon waking up, you would savor the moment. But this morning, your ringing phone woke you up. 

Carefully moving as to not wake Spencer, you untangled yourself from bed and picked up your phone on the 3rd ring. 

“Hello?” you asked, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Y/N?” The voice asked. “It’s Aaron Hotchner.”

Any fatigue in your body left at that exact moment.

“Yes, Sir. Good morning,” you greeted.

“I just heard back from Erin Strauss. Are you able to start Monday?”

“Yes! Yes, absolutely.” 

“That’s good to hear. I’ll see you 8AM sharp come Monday.”

“Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir,” you said, before wishing him goodbye. 

You hung up the phone, squealed, and began to jump around. You were so absorbed in your own happiness that you didn’t hear Spencer stir awake. 

“Good news?” He asked sleepily. 

Beaming, you leaned down and kissed him. “Great news.” 

_____________________

Your day started with a lot of formalities — you sat in an office with the head of HR,  learning about uniforms, insurance, and retirement plans. Your uniform was easy compared to virtually everyone else in the BAU; you had to wear a garment stating your job as a paramedic at all times. This came in two easy forms: a t-shirt or a bomber jacket, both provided by the Bureau. Apparently, you’re supposed to stick out in a crowd. You wondered if it was a rule for all medical personnel in the FBI, or if Strauss had something to do with it. 

The HR manager was about to get into 401ks when the two of you were interrupted.

“Oh good, you’re still here,” a high, chipper voice said from the doorway. “Y/N, we need you for a briefing.” 

You turned around in your chair to see a blonde woman dressed in bright clothing. From what Spencer had told you about the team, you guessed it was the one and only Penelope Garcia. 

“Already?” you asked, then looked back to the HR manager.

“Y/N hasn’t had any training,” he said slowly. “Can’t the team wait until the next case?”

“Talk to SSA Hotchner,” Garcia stated simply. “Until then, the medical goddess is mine.” 

You turned back to the manager. He sighed in resignation.

“We’ll talk later,” he dismissed you.

You smiled professionally. “I look forward to it,” you said pleasantly before exiting the room behind Garcia. 

“You’ve seriously had no training?” Garcia asked in disbelief. Her heels clicked loudly on the floor as she walked.

“Not with the FBI, no,” you confirmed. “My training so far has come from different jobs.”

“Sorry honey, but that won’t get you a gun,” Garcia said. 

She stopped dead in her tracks, which caused you to almost run into her.  Garcia merely stuck out her hand.

“I’m Penelope Garcia, by the way. Technical Analyst, genius extraordinaire,” she said. 

“Oh, I know,” you chuckled, but shook her hand anyways. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She frowned. “How so?”

“Oh, Derek talked about you before my interview,” you quickly recovered. “I was nervous, so I asked if he could distract me. You were the first thing that came to his mind, I guess.”

She smiled widely. “My sweet, sweet boy,” she sighed blissfully, and continued walking.

Thank god Spencer told you all about Penelope and Derek’s flirty relationship. 

You followed Garcia into a room with a round table and a few TV screens close to the far wall. Almost all of the team was already sitting somewhere at the table. 

“Everyone, this is Y/N, the BAU’s newest beauty,” Penelope said. She patted your arm. “Take a seat, my dear.” 

You smiled shyly, sitting in the first empty chair. You ended up between Prentiss and Rossi. 

“Aren’t you supposed to start next week?” JJ asked curiously.

“Yes,” someone from behind you answered. Hotch walked into the room. “Plans changed. Garcia?”

Garcia picked up a remote on the table and pointed it to the screen. She began to hand out files. “So, this boy was found two hours ago in the middle of nowhere — well, technically he was found outside of Crawford, Arizona. My point is, he has clearly been to super hell and escaped some sort of captivity.”

“How do we know he wasn’t just dropped off?” Derek asked.

“He has fresh cuts on the bottom of his feet from the local cactus fields, and that's away from any through roads, and his skin is rubbed raw around his ankles from chains,” Garcia answered. She maintained her composure, but hints of disgust and sympathy showed through.

Derek nodded, looking at the photos in his file. “He must have had the chance to escape and took it.” 

“Or the UnSub could have  had him in transit,” Emily purposed.

You looked at the photos of the boy. They were absolutely heartbreaking. The boy shied away from the camera — only one of them caught his face, which was covered in grime and framed by ungroomed hair. His clothes were tattered, and the skin he had showing was covered in scars. You couldn’t imagine what that sick bastard put this boy through for years.

“Look at the whites of his eyes — he’s jaundiced,” you observed. “He hasn’t seen Sun in… awhile. Garcia, have they figured out the boy’s age?” 

“They don’t even know his name,” Garcia said sadly. “He hasn’t spoken yet. They’re lucky they got the pictures they did.” 

“Are there any missing children in the area, Garcia?” Spencer chimed in.

“None until now, but Sir, you may have more information than I do?”

“I do. Earlier tonight another boy was reported missing in Flagstaff,” Hotch confirmed. 

“That’s not far — can’t be a coincidence,” JJ said.

“Technically it could, but Arizona has the lowest abduction rate in the country, so the chances of these cases not being related are ridiculously slim,” Spencer replied nonchalantly. 

“This is a child abduction case?” you asked, startled. “What do you need me for?”

“I’ll tell you on the jet. We need to get moving — every second is crucial. Wheels up in 15,” Hotch said, then dismissed himself from the room. 

Per Spencer’s advice, you packed a go-bag the day you got a phone call saying you were accepted. He kept yours at his desk, ‘just in case’ you needed it before you had a desk of your own. You’d have to thank him for that later.

You learned on the plane ride that you’d be working with the boy who escaped. As Garcia briefly mentioned, local law enforcement and even hospital staff had yet to break ground with him. It would be yours and Spencer’s duty to change that. 

You wanted to ask why you were needed again, but the answer eventually came to you: Hotch, or someone else on the team, thought you’d bond with him. Considering they knew almost nothing about you, they probably thought you’d bond over trauma. 

A thorough background check is done on anyone and everyone that has even the slightest bit of interest in joining the FBI. You understood that. You accepted that. But you knew the hacking abilities Garcia was capable of, and thanks to Spencer, you knew how protective she was of the team. That woman probably dug up some of your darkest moments, put screenshots in an email, and sent it to her boss like it was an everyday occurrence. Hotchner probably knew everything you went through overseas: the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

He knew you’d find a way to connect with the survivor. 

Hotch gave you a change of clothes on the plane; it consisted of a black t-shirt with the FBI decal as the left chest logo and ‘Paramedic’ written in big, white letters on the back. He also gave you a navy blue bomber jacket that, in terms of lettering, looked exactly like your shirt. You decided to leave the jacket off when you went to the hospital.

“You can’t examine his scars?” Spencer asked as the two of you followed the survivor’s doctor down the hall. 

“I can’t get close enough,” he corrected. “He has the most severe case of CER I’ve ever seen.”

“Conditioned Emotional Response,” you and Spencer said simultaneously. 

The doctor turned around for a brief moment. “You guys did your homework,” he remarked. 

“People experience and impose conditioned emotional responses almost every day,” Spencer continued. “In normal settings, CER is emotional discipline, or cause and effect. For example, if someone develops a fear of dogs after being bitten by one, that fear is a conditioned emotional response. After years of abuse, trauma, or toture, CER can be worse than PTSD.”

“He’s afraid of light and sound,” The doctor agreed. “We’re keeping it as dark and quiet for him as possible. He’s also been somewhere crammed — his legs show signs of advanced arthritis.” 

“Any idea how old he is?” You asked.

“It’s hard to tell. He has major skin and tooth decay, probably caused by the massive vitamin D deficiency.”

The doctor stopped walking when the three of you came to a door that was guarded by a police officer. 

“Best guess?” you pushed.

He sighed. “Maybe sixteen.”

“Thank you,” you told him, and he nodded before walking off. 

Spencer flashed his badge to the police officer in front of the door, and just like that, the two of you were let in. You clicked a button on the wall beside the officer, which opened the room’s automatic door. You followed Spencer inside.

The blinds drawn shut, and all medical gear in the room was turned off. The bed was empty, and the food on the tray was left untouched. You scanned the room, and eventually, you found the boy — he was curled up under the table in the corner of the room. You pulled the curtain in front of the door shut before approaching him. 

“Hey,” you said softly, crouching down on your knees. You kept a decent distance. “My name is Y/N, and this is my friend, Spencer.”

Spencer crouched beside you, offering him a wave. “Hello.” 

He cowered away, trying to make himself smaller. 

“We’re the good guys,” you promised, then paused. “Is it okay if I hang out with you for awhile?”

He didn’t respond, which you fully expected. Asking to stay wasn’t a formal request of yours; mostly, you wanted to silently show that he was allowed to be in control of some things.

You looked up at the stand, which held a plate full of fruit, an energy drink, and a bottle of water. Everything appeared untouched. You turned back to the boy, then briefly stood up to grab the water. 

“You must be thirsty,” you said, crouching back down. “Want some water?” 

You extended your arm, offering him the bottle. He swatted it out of your hand and across the room before backing up into the corner again.

“Okay, it’s okay,” you said gently, backing away to give him some more space.

“This is years of conditioning,” Spencer murmured. “I’ll go tell Garcia to expand the search.”

“Good idea,” you agreed. 

Spencer walked out, and with that, it was just you and the boy. 

You picked up the water bottle and sat against the foot of the bed. You let silence fill the room, hoping your lack of sound and movement would assure him you were nothing to fear. 

After awhile, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a quarter. You began rolling it across your fingers, stopping when the coin was wedged between your pinkie and ring finger. Then, you started over, and rolled it across your fingers again. You’d been practicing the trick for awhile: basically since you and Spencer met. It wasn’t his ‘disappearing’ trick, but it was fairly easy to learn and execute.

You eventually looked up to see the boy staring at you. He was still under the table, but his body wasn’t facing the wall anymore. You smiled softly and rolled the quarter across the floor. 

The boy laid it flat on the ground.

“I know you’re scared,” you said quietly. “You were taken away from your home and put in a place you didn’t feel safe. You spent the first few days scared out of your mind, wondering when he was going to just get it over with and kill you. Eventually, though, you realized he didn’t want to kill you — you didn’t know what he wanted. That scared you even more.” 

He stared at the quarter, but you had a feeling he was listening to you, not just hearing you.

“I know you think he can still hurt you, that he’s standing right outside that door,” you continued. “He isn’t. And even if he was, he’d have to go through me before he could get to you. No way would I let that happen.” 

The boy picked up the quarter and looked at it. Then, he rolled it out from under the table, and back to you. 

You picked it up before it could hit the ground. A small smile crossed your face. 

Slowly, over what you guessed was an hour, the boy made baby steps. Eventually, he began to move out from under the table. Once he sat across from you, no table or wall as his shield, you were able to turn on the overhead lights. He still had an aversion to sunlight, but you decided not to worry about that for the moment. 

You and the boy took turns with the coin, rolling it back to the other person when you were finished. You showed him a few hints and tricks on how to roll the quarter across his fingers, all without actually touching him. 

You caught movement in the corner of your eye. Spencer stood in the doorway.

The boy slowly scooted over. You stuck out your hand in reassurance. “It’s okay,” you promised. 

He sat still.

Spencer entered the room, taking a seat in the chair behind where you sat on the floor. 

“What did Garcia find out?” you asked Spencer. 

“She broadened her search, but there’s no one that matches his description,” Spencer replied, tone hushed. 

“Someone has to be missing this kid,” you said. 

Then, an alarm in the hallway went off.

The boy immediately scrambled across the floor, frantically making his way back under the table.

“No, no, no, that’s not for us,” you said, reaching out instinctively. “That’s for the doctors outside. It’s for the doctors, not us.”

Sure enough, an automated voice called ‘code blue’.

“It’s alright. It’s okay,” you said. 

He peeked his head out.

“It’s not for us,” you repeated. “Okay? You can come back out. I promise.”

He slowly made his way back over to you.

“There you go. That’s it,” you praised. You reached your hand out, holding the quarter. “Take it.” 

He took it quickly, covering it with his freehand.

“There you go.”

You sighed, turning your head to Spencer. “I got him to nod, but that’s about it.”

“And you asked him his name?” Spencer questioned.

You nodded. 

“Have you tried Spanish?”

“The language doesn’t matter if he won’t talk,” you spoke.

Spencer moved from the chair to the floor space beside you. “Mi nombre es Spencer,” Spencer said. “como te llama?”

Silence.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” You asked gently.

Once again, nothing.

“Can I see what you have there?” Spencer asked, a small smile on his face.

The boy stuck out the coin.

“Wow. Do you like eagles?” He asked.

The boy pointed to the wings.

“Yeah, the wings are beautiful, aren’t they?” Spencer agreed.

He reached up and touched his back. He pointed to the wings again.

“Wings?” Spencer frowned. “You have… wings, on your back?”

It clicked in your brain. “Angel?”

The boy looked at you.

“Is your name Angel?” You asked. 

Angel smiled.

_____________________

Part 4

Notes: Let me know what you think! Comments keep me motivated to write xo

[jaqfms]

there's     jacques    ‘jaq’    daingerfield   !     though     on    their     socials     they     go     by     @thedangerousq     .     i     heard     he     is     originally     from     paris     ,     france     ,     but     made     the     big     move     to     los     angeles     to     join     TWENTIES     .     you     haven't     heard     about     it     ?   well     ,     apparently     their     dream     is     to     design     his     own     video     game   ,     but     they     have     no     chance   unless     they     quit     being     so     cocky     &     lazy     .     that     said     ,     those     behind     the     scenes     have     said     they     can     be     witty     &     charismatic     too.     guess     we'll     have     to     watch     and     find     out     !     ━     &    laughing     until     you     cry     ,          a     cartoon     theme     song     paired     with     a     hip     hop     beat     ,     a     juul     behind     your     ear     ,     vines     quoted     in     a     thick     french     accent     .    (     timothee     chalamet     ,     cis male     ,     he/him     )   (     pepper    ,     she/her + they/them     ,     est     ,     twenty four     )

ABOUT THE MUN.  are ya in a relationship? you think i can convince someone to do that?

hello, it’s me again. i tired myself out with haisley’s so jaq’s if going to be considerably shorter. let’s go. 

BIO.  aaaahhhhhhhhhh shhiiittttt *begins understanding things*

jacques daingerfield was born in france to two very average parents. like his mother was a teacher and his father was a financial analyst. nothing wild or crazy going on there, and to top it off he was the middle child, and well, you can tell. 

he has four siblings. he was the third kid, and well, he spent most of his childhood fighting for any kind of attention, usually by making inappropriate little jokes or you know, fart noises. yes his parents were generally exasperated with him, but that behavior made sure they paid attention to him. and honestly that was all jacques wanted. 

again, jacques had a pretty average upbringing. he went to school, he was actually pretty popular among his peers despite being so annoying (definitely very unpopular amongst his teachers for generally that class clown that sat in the back and always interrupted), and he excelled academically without really trying too much. well, in every subject but english funnily enough. jaq always struggled in english, which is why it was incredibly ironic that when his parents separated they decided to move to uk with his father. jacques was ten at the time, and he still doesn’t understand the decision.

so yes, jacques was the kid in class with the weird name and weirder accent who could barely communicate with his classmates. it didn’t take long for them to stop really trying to pronounce ‘jacques’ properly. jacques became jack without much input on his part, and by the time jacques had got enough of a handle on the english language to correct them the americanized name had already stuck. even at nine jacques was smart enough to know that insisting on the correct french pronunciation of his name just kind of made him sound like a pretentious french asshole, so instead he spun it. he embraced it. started signing all of his papers and assignments with ‘jaq’ with a q like it was his brand or something. even as a child jaq will give himself credit for being clever af. 

it actually worked pretty well honestly. the older jaq got the more he grew into himself, and the more comfortable he got with the english language. honestly a lot of how jaq learned english was through video games and youtube videos and cartoons, like those were some of his go to resources. spent a lot of time playing games with strangers and tested his english out with colourful trash talk. actually started his first ever youtube channel was basically that as just a way to practice his english a bit. all he did on there was play video games, and honesty he didn’t even show his face. the channel wasn’t that popular, but he had fun making it. 

jaq on the other hand had gained popularity by the time he was in middle school. granted, that popularity was mostly due to the fact that he had a popular older brother and sister, was french and therefore ‘cute’ (jaq didn’t pretend to understand how girls brains worked then, and he still doesn’t now) and his family always had the newest gaming system at their household, and even then it wasn’t wild popularity. but it was enough that barely anyone teased him for his thick french accent anymore, and yk what jaq would take it. he weirdly got even more popular with the guys in his grade when they found out about his youtube channel. they found it funny, and they would generally watch his videos and come tell him about their favourite parts later, ask him about how he got past a certain level or learned a certain cheat. jaq soaked up their admiration like a sponge, right into his ego. they were the beginning of jaq getting the big head he proudly sports today. 

that said for most second form jaq’s youtube channel was just a hobby. something he did for fun. like i said earlier, jaq actually did really well in school and his parents always expected him to follow in his father’s footsteps and go into something in business. after all, it would be an easy transition with both french and english under his belt. they knew he would excel. 

but then he met madi. and somehow the two started doing videos together for fun, and it quickly expanded into something a lot bigger. something that jaq wouldn’t have even dreamed of doing before. suddenly the picture perfect future he had planned for himself just seemed boring in comparison to what he and madi had going on, and so jaq easily picked that instead. his parents weren’t all that happy about it, of course, after all jaq had full scholarships to some schools just waiting for him to accept and he ignored all of them in favour of making videos of him playing games online. they still don’t understand, but jaq doesn’t really need them too. he’s happy with what he’s doing and he figures he can always go into business when he’s old and boring. 

he moved out of his parents house straight into an apartment with madi when things between them started getting really tough. they can’t really speak without the whole ‘we’re so disappointed in you’ conversation coming up so jaq doesn’t really speak to them unless he has to. both of his older siblings went into business like their parents wanted, and his younger siblings are on the same path. his little sister wants to be just like him though, and that warms his heart tbh. 

has come to TWENTIES to have a good time! wants to break into the acting industry like dylan o’brien and maybe show his parents that a ‘real’ career can come from something like this. his parents begged him not to come on this show and embarrass them so that is definitely what he’s about to do. 

HEADCANNONS. there are a lot of people who need to shut up.  not me though 

thinks he’s funny! sometimes he is

will answer to jacques, jaq, jaqi, or q! you can call him daingerfield if you want but not many people do

fun fact, made his instagram handle as a joke, much like awkwafina. was just supposed to a little dig about how many times he has to say ‘jack with a q’ whenever someone spells his name. but now the dangerous q is his brand, and just finds it really dumb and funny. 

a bit of a kleptomaniac. will swipe something he thinks is cool mostly just to do it. has very little impulse control. loves to pull pranks and generally make trouble, but not in a way that will ever actually hurt anybody because he’s not a whole idiot. not the biggest fan of cops. 

is an artist. will spray paint your walls and probably has spray painted the walls of his apartment. will doodle weird things all over napkins or receipts or whatever he can get his hands on. has drawn out little video game characters he wants to be in his future games, and actually is considering going to school for a video game programming degree just for that. the funny thing is with his grades he could probably do it. is teaching himself coding in the mean time. 

 the type of person to start drumming on the counter or desk with his hands or like pencils or pens when he’s bored. will make up fun little raps on the spot. 

incredibly intelligent but doesn’t like to talk about it. would much rather act dumb than act like he has any braincells. he doesn’t want to give anyone expectations. 

all the youtube success has definitely gone to his head in the way that?? he just thinks they’re untouchable like he cannot compute the concept of their channel failing or their future endeavors failing. definitely thinks that TWENTIES will lead to much bigger things for them. will walk into his future acting auditions like he’s the shit. 

an introvert with extrovert tendencies. needs to be by himself to chill out and recharge but can like work a room honestly. can make friends pretty much everywhere he goes. a bit of a charmer when he wants to be. 

a smoker unfortunately. also a bit of a stoner. definitely has a juul on him at all times, like i said he tends to keep it behind his ear and then be like ???? where’s my juul. 

needs glasses but refuses to wear them. is very stubborn about it tbh. does not want to get contacts because he hates the idea of putting something into his eye. so you can catch him squinting sometimes like a fool. 

one of the first things he treated himself to with his first big youtube check like outside of rent was a tattoo! it’s on his ribs and it’s just a drawing he did himself but he loves it and it was the start of an addiction. he has about five. also has a few helix and orbital piercings on his left ear. 

another muse of mine with a tiktok, but jaq just uses his to make music for the most part. will turn the mickey mouse club house theme song into bars! (if you’ve seen that tiktok,,,, ily) 

a big nerd. reads comic books. watches anime. will get very reasonably upset about the avatar the last airbender movie whenever it’s brought up.

can cook really well, but whenever he does it it’s pure chaos. like julian/brad leone in the kitchen for sure. but the food comes out tasting really good, so???

is jewish af. knows a bit of hebrew and a bit of yiddish because of his grandparents mostly. is kind of ??? a lot more lenient with things now that he’s not around his parents as often i’m ngl. 

brings his ds everywhere and you can literally catch him on the bus vaping and playing animal crossing because he hasn’t bothered to get a american license yet 

is always willing to take a picture with a subscribers and they’re always the weirdest thing. there are pictures of subscribers like pretending to stab him in the eye. prom pose pictures with subscribers. the weirder the better tbh

has gone to vidcon a few years in a row, always has the wildest time. there is video footage of him waking up in some strangers bathtub with a feather boa around his neck. it’s probably on instagram. 

is also bi af. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.  very proud to announce that i am officially a lost cause! 

BEST FRIENDS.

A BROMANCE. 

FWB/EWB.

EXES. 

FANS OF HIS YOUTUBE VIDEOS. 

and here’s his wanted tag, i forgot to do the same for haisley so here is her wanted tag. 

and many more, y’all this took so long and i’m so tired but like this and i will slide into your dms for plots!

[tinyavenuesailor]

The Perfect Stranger

Special thanks at @fandom-mashup for beta-ing this piece of work. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Peter wasn’t sure if he was ready for this again. He didn’t have the best track records in dating. Most times it ended up in someone getting hurt because of him. Almost always with his heart being broken. He had come up with three hundred reasons (and counting) to not do this, and yet he was throwing himself back into the fire pit. He was obviously a masochist,  if his side job wasn’t already enough of a hint.

“Peter!” Peter spun around to the sound of his name and his heart skipped when he saw Spencer jogging towards him. That bright sunshine smile was enough to dispel any last-minute doubts floating around in Peter’s mind. “Sorry, I’m late,” Spencer's hands fell to his knees and he panted. “You didn’t wait long, right?”

 “No, no,” Peter shook his head. “I just got here.” Fifteen minutes ago... maybe twenty.

 “Great, I would hate to make you wait,” Spencer reached out for Peter and wrapped himself around Peter’s arm, their bodies flushed together. Peter kept the squawk at the back of his throat away from Spencer’s ears. “So, where to?” Spencer tilted his head up with expectations in his eyes. Peter wasn’t sure if Spencer was doing all of this on purpose or if he was just that naturally adorable. Either way, it should be illegal because the charm is working.

 “We could walk around Central Park if you want?”

 “Yeah, I haven’t been able to laze around there for so long,” Spencer sighed into Peter’s shoulder.

 “Seriously?” Peter paused and furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought you just moved here.”

  The sunshine smile on Spencer’s face cracked at the corner of his lips but if Peter noticed he chose to ignore it. Spencer ducked his head away from Pete’s eyes, “I uh, did but I used to visit here a lot when I was younger.” That’s the first time he’s ever heard that from Spencer. It shouldn’t have been odd since New York City got thousands of tourists each day. Most Americans either had family living in the city or used it as a big vacation spot to mark off things on their bucket list. He just thought it would be something Spencer would definitely mention over the past few weeks. “It’s really no big deal, it was so long ago,” Spencer tugged on his arm. 

 “Cool, we can just take it slow then,” Peter tore his eyes away from Spencer and began to lead the way to Central Park. Any wary thoughts in his mind about Spencer went quiet after that moment.

  “So despite any of your conclusion-jumping thoughts, it was not my fault that I was late,” They were only a few minutes into their stroll in Central Park, but Spencer was already on a spiel about why he was not to be blamed for being late. “Seriously, I had everything planned out…”

 Spencer really loved to talk. He would find a conversation in the smallest of things and drag the usual five minute topic out to an hour. It could be overwhelming to Peter who enjoyed a little peace and quiet but he overall enjoyed listening to Spencer’s stories. And he loved(too soon) liked that Spencer enjoyed listening to his own stories too. He would give Peter room to respond and valued his opinion,genuinely interested in what Peter had to say. It was rare that a conversation grew dull between them.

 The thing was when Spencer’s mouth started going at it he tended to let loose a few pieces of information.

 “And like when I’m finally ready to leave, my sister tries to take my jacket. I mean it’s her jacket but how could she take it. It completes the outfit and it looks so good on me. I had to wrestle her out of there which is not easy, trust me.”

 “You have a sister?” Peter stopped in  his tracks. Peter didn’t have a problem with any information Spencer revealed about himself. That was the point of going out on a date: to get to know each other. In fact, Peter was open to learning everything he could about Spencer; he wasn’t the issue.

 The problem was that Spencer didn’t seem to share the same sentiments.

 Spencer voice fell silent , “Yeah, I have a sister.” A short and quick answer, no stories, no pictures, no further details. Whenever Spencer realized he spilled certain details about himself to Peter, he would quickly try to switch the conversation or divert Peter’s attention elsewhere. Peter wouldn’t go so far to call himself a professional detective, but after years of crime-fighting and carrying out multiple investigations you pick up on a few things. The most obvious would be Spencer’s relentless avoidance on any topics about his family or home. Peter does not get the feeling that Spencer comes from a bad home. With the few slip-ups that have happened Spencer sounded very content with his home life, but he’s been wrong before. The only things that Peter knew about Spencer’s family or home life was that Spencer cooks, always has hot water, and now has a sister to which he has no picture nor a name to match to.

 In addition to Spencer’s secret family, he also never named friends. Unlike his family, Spencer would freely tell Peter many stories and adventures about his friends-- nameless friends with very little descriptions and again no pictures. Peter had to wonder if this is what having a personal conversation with Spider-Man sounded like. Peter had to stick names to the people in Spencer’s stories like the annoying neighbor, a frequent in Spencer’s tales. Peter has managed to put together that the man had to be very tall and muscular( thankfully sounded older, hopefully not handsome). The facts were that Spencer obviously didn’t want Peter knowing some things. Why the knowledge of his sister would be filed under classified in Spencer’s mind was a mystery Peter was still trying to solve.

 Spencer eyes snapped over to a lake ahead of them,“Oh, look, they are doing boat rides.” And there was Spencer’s distraction. Peter had gotten used to Spencer’s deflections by now. He played along with it for the most part, but there were moments he was tempted to use the covert interrogation techniques he managed to learn from Cat and take a crack at Spencer. Dig until he found his answers.

 Peter glanced over at the lake with several boats already drifting on it and looked back at Spencer’s innocent eyes. “You sure?”

 “Yeah, it’ll be fun!” Spencer grabbed Peter’s hand and dragged him over.

 If Spencer wasn’t ready to share then Peter would respect that. It’s not like Spencer was the only one keeping secrets.

    “Ummm, Spencer?” Peter started as he continued to row both of them out. Spencer liked the idea of a row boat but hated rowing, leaving it up to Peter to take the fancy dame out to the good scenery on the lake. He had a feeling that rowing was not the only thing Spencer disliked on a boat.

 “Mmmm.” Spencer hummed. He had his eyes set down on the water while spot between his eyebrows scrunched up.

 “Do you like water?”

 Spencer didn’t react to Peter’s question. His eyes flicked up to get a quick glance at Peter before going back down to the water, “Why would you ask that?”

 “Well, you’ve been glaring at it from some time now.”

 Spencer snapped his head up and sighed, “I don’t hate it.”  He looked around at the nearest land which was a good distance away from them.

 “Is it that you can’t swim?” Cause that was the first conclusion everyone jumped to when a person didn’t like water.

 “I can swim,” Spencer shrugged. “I just don’t like being wet most times.”

 “Most times?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “What about the beach? You said you love the beach.”

 “It’s different,” Spencer shrugged, “and no one goes to the beach to really swim.” Spencer said it was like some unwritten rule Peter has never heard of.

 “Then what go to the beach to do?”

 “Tan, take some pictures, beach volleyball, and show off your new swimsuit,” Spencer smirked.

 “Pool Party?”

 “An excuse to get drunk while showing off your new swimsuit.”

 “Skinny dipping?”

 “That’s unfair.”

 “You need to get wet.”

 “But you’re doing it for the sex.”

 “Touche.”

 Spencer rolled his eyes and chuckled before staring back down at the water. He stretched his hand down and ran it through the green water. Spencer attention steadied on the ripples he created in the still water. Peter tilted his head with his gaze heavy on his date . As if reading Peter’s mind Spencer spoke, “I’m not scared of water. It’s just,” Spencer paused and fixed himself further away from the edge of the boat, “I just have a complicated relationship with water.”

 Peter stopped rowing, “We could go back.” Farwell that wasted fifteen dollars.

 “No, no,” Spencer shook his head and leaned back on his hands. “Honestly I’m fine Peter. This is romantic. I like it.”

 “You do?” Peter pursed his lips.

 Spencer nodded and looked around, “I mean it’s so beautiful.” It was still the early days of October, the green trees have already started to fade into a mixture of oranges and reds. A few already falling onto the water. Spencer took a deep breath in and let it out in content, falling deeper into himself. Rather than admiring the beauty around him, Peter found himself much more distracted with the one in front of him. If there was one word to describe Spencer, it was perfect. Perfect laugh. Perfect hair. Perfect blue eyes that Peter never wanted to look away from. Laughed at his lame jokes. Loved Spider-Man. Interesting. Funny. Smart. Beautiful. Kind. Sweet. Had the most perfect natural lighting that would have any photographer itching to take a photo. Why didn’t he bring his camera? Fuck! He should have brought his camera?! Harry always said that all Peter had to do was wait before the world dropped a beautiful person into his lap. Peter had his issue with the statement, but he couldn’t argue that he has dated some beautiful people in his life. Gwen, Felicia, MJ, and now Spencer and as usual Peter felt he was pitching way out of his league. “It really is peaceful,” Spencer sighed to himself and a moment passed before his eyebrows started to furrow. He could only hear the splash of waves against the boat as they floated along quite different to the bursting sounds of laughter and conversations that surrounded them a few minutes ago.  “Like its really quiet.” Spencer straightened up to see only a single boat or two around them. “We are really far out.” Oops. Spencer tried to look back to where they began but it was too far. “How did you row us out here so fast?” He may have used a bit too much Spidey strength.

 “I workout,” because that answers everything.

 Spencer raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, you are really strong.” He propped his chin up on his arm.

 “I chase web-slinging heroes for a living,” Peter stumbled out an excuse, “you gain some muscle on the job.” Spencer looked Peter down from head to toe, observing the bulging muscles hidden underneath is shirt and bit his lip. He moved from his seat to a spot next to Peter. “Uhh Spencer?” Peter was suddenly aware of the secluded area they were in.

 “What?” Spencer gave Peter’s bicep a good squeeze and he hummed in delight. “You don’t mind do you?”

 “I don’t,” Peter watched Spencer inch in closer.

 “It’s such a shame to hide all this under baggy clothes,” Spencer sighed. He leaned in closer, slowly moving hand up from his bicep to his chest.

 Peter inched in closer until their noses were almost touching, staring right into Spencer’s eyes, “I’m really loving this but getting sexy in a boat is really uncomfortable.”

 Spencer froze with only a small distance keeping his lips from connecting with Peter. Soon after his head dropped and he covered his face, “You couldn’t just enjoy the moment, could you?” Spencer was already moving closer to the edge of his side of the boat away from Peter.

“I’m sorry?” Spencer wasn’t going to believe that apology with the shit-eating grin on his face.

 “Well, good luck kissing these lips, Parker.”

 “Okay, I am really sorry.”

 “Nope, not accepted,” Spencer smirked, “you are going to have to work for it.”

 Peter was about to make a comeback with another smartass comment when the buzzing in his head began, and on instinct, Peter grabbed onto the boat with a tight grip. Within a second, Peter was able to spot Iron Man speeding above the river with two smaller flying robots chasing him. Peter had a good guess that they weren’t asking for his autograph. The trio flew over them, causing giant waves to ripple and rock their boat. Peter had a tight grip on the boat and was able to stay inside, but heard a scream and a splash from his neighbouring spot. When the boat settled down Peter rushed to the other side of the boat.

 Spencer was threading in lake, no doubt soaked down to every last bone in his body and glaring up at Peter. Well it’s a good thing he really can swim.

 Peter managed to rescue Spencer from the lake and drag him back into the boat. They both decided that their short romantic boat ride was over. He saw Falcon and Thor flying from Iron Man’s direction with the two now broken robots in their hands. The Avengers had dealt with it so Peter could sit back and relax for once (yeah it was weird for him too).

 “This is hideous,” Spencer stepped out of the bathroom with an ‘I love NYC’ shirt and matching sweatpants. His previously worn clothes were far beyond saving, and had no chance of drying in October weather, so Peter had managed to force Spencer into a generic New York City fan outfit.

 “I think it looks kind of cute,” Peter chuckled under his breath.

 “Zip it,” Spencer groaned, “I doesn’t help that a fashion disaster like you thinks this is cute.”

 Peter took out the towel he bought and reached to dry Spencer’s hair, “Come on, it's not that bad.”

 “It is.”

 “Is not,” Peter massaged Spencer’s scalp through the towel,  “You look cute no matter what.” Spencer’s breath hitched as a light blush dusted his cheeks. Peter started leaning forward before his mind could catch up to his body. Spencer moved his hand to clutch onto Peter’s shirt, and met him halfway to press their lips together. Spencer’s lips were soft and sweet, no doubt from the lip balm Peter would see him apply daily. But there was also this heat Peter could feel. It wasn’t the same kind of warmth Peter was used to feeling when kissing another person, it was hot. Again Peter gets this sense of familiarity that he can’t seem to place, and it drives him crazy for more.

 Peter retreated before he reached a point where he couldn’t stop. Spencer’s eyes flutter open, and for a moment they stayed silent. Spencer’s fingers still clutching around Peter’s shirt; Peter hand settled around Spencer’s face. Until Spencer finally spoke, “Aren’t you going to kiss me again?”

 Peter happily obliged.

    “I’m so glad that my nephew could take a break from his busy schedule to take me shopping today.” Aunt May may have the face of an angel, but he could feel the daggers in those words. Cancelling one too many dinner nights has its consequences. Peter is only lucky that it’s just shopping. Plus…

 “You deserve it Aunt May.” Because she always did putting up with flaky behaviour, even if it was for the overall good of the city. But she didn’t know that, so she still got Aunt of the Year. If Peter could beat up bad guys every night, he is sure he could handle a little shopping with his Aunt May… he thinks. Give him a break. He doesn’t get shopping; he picks the cheapest decent thing on the sales rack and heads to the cashier.

 “Peter, what do you think, the red or purple?” Aunt May held up two shirts one dark red and the other with a soft purple.

 Peter eyes flicked back and forth between the two shirts that Aunt May presented in front of him, “Uhh, I think either one would look good on you Aunt May.”

 “Peter, you’re so sweet,” Aunt May chuckled, “but not the answer I was looking for.”

 “Sorry Aunt May,” Peter scratched his head. “I’m not much of a shopper, but I will hold all of your bags unconditionally.”

 Aunt May went off to find a sales representative while Peter relaxed back on one of the few available seats in the store. He wasn’t much help with shopping but he’s sure that Spencer would be a way better shopping partner for Aunt May. Spencer had a casual style, but it wasn’t hard to tell that his clothes were all selected and bought with a fair amount of thought behind them.  He could see Aunt May and Spencer hitting it off quite nicely.

 His date with Spencer at the park ended very well, with the expectation of a second date very soon. If things kept up at the pace they were going, Peter was going to want to them to meet. Was that moving too fast? No matter how taken Peter was with Spencer, it didn’t change that Spencer was still very much a stranger. One that wasn’t comfortable opening up about his family or friends. And taking Peter’s unexplainable gravitation towards him out of the equation, he only knew Spencer for a couple of weeks. He didn’t want to introduce a stranger to Aunt May even if he was perfect.

 If he had known Spencer for years, it would be different but it was impossible for things to ever be that perfect.

 Peter rested on his knees and sighed.

 Aunt May was taking longer than expected. He has been sitting here for almost twenty minutes and there was no sign of her coming back. In his own boredom Peter got up from his seat in search of her. She wouldn’t stray far without notifying Peter so it wasn’t long until Peter spotted her conversing with a man?

 “The purple just looks so soft against your skin,” the man fixed the shirt against Aunt May. Was his Aunt being hit on?  It wouldn’t be the first time because no matter how uncomfortable it made Peter, his Aunt May was hot, as told by Mary-Jane. This would be the youngest one he’s seen attempting to make a move - and that was Johnny Storm. His flaming idiotic best friend, Johnny Storm. The last time Peter Parker had seen Johnny was the ‘cafe incident’ where he may or may not have left Johnny in tears. He’s been trying to catch Johnny in his civilian form but the last place he expected to see him was at a small time department store like this? “I do have a bias, red is one of my favorite colors.”

 “Oh, well this would look great on you,” Aunt May lifted the shirt up to Johnny’s chest. Okay, Johnny was a natural flirt but his Aunt May was flirting back…... Yeah, Peter thinks it's about time he cuts in before he sees something he can never unsee.

 “Aunt May!” The two jumped up in their spots and jerked their heads towards Peter. He took a step closer, almost wedging himself between Johnny and Aunt May. Peter’s shoulders fell when he faced the blonde and spoke in a hushed tone, “Johnny.” He approached with caution now that Johnny had all reason to be an asshole to him. He expected Johnny to at least cut him off with a cold remark but was surprised to be met with a smile that crinkled at his eyes.“Hey, Peter.” Peter feels the warm rays of Johnny’s smile warm him up deep in his core. He tries to remember how he ever managed to get angry at that gorgeous face. It’s hard to recall but the chains of guilt wrapped around his arms and leg have only gotten heavier with each passing day. 

“Peter you never told me that you knew Johnny Storm,” Aunt May hit his chest and gave him the ‘you should have told me’ look.

 “It’s more of a professional relationship,” Peter shrugged.

 “Yes, Johnny told me you take pictures of them for the Bugle,” Aunt May exchanged smiles with Johnny. “I follow Johnny’s food blog on instagram, so exciting meeting the chef in person.” Johnny had a food blog? Aunt May had an instagram account?

 “You know I could send you a couple of my recipes if you want,” Johnny tore his eyes off of Peter and back to May.

 “That wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

 “No, for a family member of Peter it’s really no problem.”

 “Seriously?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows. He’d been an asshole to Johnny, so the last thing he was expecting were lovely gestures towards him or anyone associated with him.

 “Yeah, it’s no big deal,” Johnny waved it off and shot a bright smile. Peter had almost mistaken him for an angel.

 May’s eyes rolled over from Peter to Johnny and the corner of her lips slightly curled up. She cleared her throat, “Well, if you excuse me I need to go try these on.” Aunt May scurried off to the nearest changing room leaving Peter alone with Johnny. When he was sure his Aunt was out of ear shot range he spoke to Johnny. “Are you and my Aunt best friends now?”

 “Oh I hope so, I need to learn her beauty secrets.” Johnny tucked his blonde hair behind his ear.

 An awkward silence settled between them. He wasn’t going to get another lucky chance like this. Peter started, “Johnny I’ve been meaning to apologise for a long time,”

 “For what?” Johnny lips curved down.

 “I didn’t have my best attitude the last time we met.” The chains tightened just thinking back at the moment in the cafe.

 Johnny’s face froze for a second before falling into a helpless smile“Oh, Peter you weren’t exactly wrong,” he flipped his hand, “I wasn’t being the greatest friend, it really doesn’t matter.”

 “It does!” Johnny went silent. “There was a better way to say what needed to be said and I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you. I’m sorry.”

 “You’re forgiven.” Johnny said for Peter’s sake. If he didn’t give Peter some other form of reassurance the photographer would never forgive himself.

 “I really would love to be your friend given another chance.”

 “I thought you were already my friend?” Johnny tipped his head.

 “I guess we are.” Peter tried to remain calm on the outside, but on the inside there was a festival of butterflies celebrating in his stomach. He managed to not ruin his new friendship with Johnny as Peter Parker. He is sure that is why he had that weird feeling shooting throughout his body. Peter was free to now listen to Johnny’s babble and stare into those blue eyes.

 Blue eyes?

 “Peter?” Johnny furrowed his eyebrows when Peter started to lean in closer to him.

 “You’re eyes….” Millions of people had blue eyes but there was something about Johnny’s that was bugging Peter’s mind.  “They look so familiar.”

 The words themselves were ridiculous because Peter was already well acquainted with Johnny as Spider-Man and his civilian self. He has had numerous chances to memorize Johnny’s features, and the famous crystal blue eyes belonging to the Storm siblings was a fact many of their fans could recall. There was that nagging in the back of Peter’s head like he had forgotten a person with similar eyes.

 “It's just like you said, the purple looks great on - oh,” Aunt May stepped in. “Am I interrupting?”

 Peter jerked back away from Johnny. “Interrupting what?”

 “Nothing dear,” Aunt May sighed. Her shoulders drooped down and her smile grew small. Peter was able to immediately pick up on her dampening mood.

 “Something wrong Aunt May?” Peter asked.

 “Oh well,” May eyes flicked over to Johnny and back to Peter. “You know I’m a little hungry, why don’t we get something to eat?”

 “Sure.”

 Peter was ready to say his reluctant goodbyes to Johnny when Aunt May spun on her toes to Johnny and smiled, “Would you like to join us?”

 “Me?” Johnny pointed at himself just as surprised as Peter at the sudden invitation.

 “Yes, I would love to chat more with you.”

 “Aunt May, Johnny is busy, we shouldn’t disturb him,” Peter intervened.

 “I’m not that busy.” Peter did not predict Johnny contradicting him.

 “You really don’t have to force yourself, you probably have someone to save this very minute.”

 “Peter even superheroes can get breaks.” Not a second after Johnny’s phone starts alarming. He snatched it out of his pocket and watched a number of messages fly by on the screen from his sister. His face fell and groaned, “but not today. Duty calls.” Johnny tucked his phone back in his pocket. “It was nice to meet you Aunt May. I’ll see you around Peter.” He shot them a sad look before running off.

 May looked up to Peter and huffed, “Did you really have to jinx it?”

 She couldn’t be blaming him for this. How could he know that Parker’s luck was contagious.

    Peter scrubbed the dishes and hummed to a sweet tune in his head while his Aunt May and Jay chatted in the background. He stayed for dinner and offered to wash the dishes as a make-up for all his previous cancellations. The craziness in New York was down for a few hours, so he might as well use the time spoiling his Aunt.

 “We could always help with those, Peter,” May looked over at Peter from the dining table.

 “Aunt May it’s fine. You two rest and just let me clean up,” Peter shook his head at them before returning to his humming. May spun to her husband across the table from her and they both exchanged looks. Jay looked up sat Peter one more time and shook his head with a light smile, “I’m not gonna say anything.” They continued to watch Peter wash and dry the dishes while he was caught up in his own little world. When Peter finished he took a seat with the ederly couple. They each had a mug of hot chocolate to sip on while they chuckled to themselves.

 Peter rested his chin on his fist and watched the two before he asked, “Did I miss the joke?”

 “No,” Jay’s lips quivered. “Your Aunt is just finding herself quite entertained.”

 “What so funny Aunt May?”

 “Nothing,” she waved her hand and huffed, “it’s really nothing dear.” He didn’t believe that for a second. Aunt May set down her cup and looked at Peter with a shrewd gaze in her eyes; the one that sent a shiver down his spine. He remembers getting that look every time she tried to hook him up with the latest lovely niece or nephew of one of her friends.

 In that single thought Peter decided that he should leave. “Look at the time.” Peter pointed to his non-existent watch.

 “Too late to run now,” Jay at least shot Peter a sympathetic look.

 “So anything good happen lately,” Aunt May continued.

 “Aunt Mayyyy,” Peter groaned.

 “Just tell us Peter,” she hit his shoulder lightly. “Did you meet someone?”

  Peter shook his head. He had unknowingly stepped into dangerous territory. Escaping was futile. Aunt May had his address, phone number and he would love to come back and be spoiled with Apple pie. “Yes,” Peter relinquished. “I did meet someone.”

 “Peter!” She hit his arm harder this time.

 Before she could get to any more questions Peter rushed out, “But we’ve only been on one date and we don’t want to rush anything.”

 “It’s Johnny Storm isn’t it.” If Peter had been holding a mug it would have been shattered against the tiled floor. Johnny? Storm? He hadn’t misheard.

 “W-Why would you think I’m dating Johnny Storm?” Did Johnny say something to Aunt May?

 “You looked so happy when you spoke to him. I haven’t seen you smile like that in so long.” What? Smile like what? Aunt May turned to Jay with her hand in her cheek and started to gush, “I know what they say about him on the news but he was such a sweet boy when we ran into him. So polite and helpful.” So Johnny didn’t say anything.

 Peter leaned back in his seat. His fingers carded through his hair to rest on his neck before he released a long sigh, “Sorry to break it to you Aunt May but its not him.”

 Aunt May’s smile fell. Her head tilted to the side, “You don’t like him?”

 “Aunt May you can’t be serious,” Peter shook his head. “Johnny isn’t interested in guys like me.” It was sweet that Aunt May thought he was the most handsome man in the world, but he wasn’t delusional. Johnny dated people with the pockets of Tony Stark, and the face and body of a young Steve Rogers. He was borderline broke, and while Spidey genes had contributed greatly to his ripped body, he couldn’t live up to the Captain’s face or that tight ass.

 Aunt May still had a slight frown on her face. “He looked very smitten with you to me.” She continued to rattle her head as she picked up the empty mugs off the table. “Honestly it seemed like he was waiting for you to make a move.”

 Peter shook his head. Aunt May would always be his number one fan,“Only in your eyes Aunt May.”

 She looked down at Peter and sighed. “Oh, Peter,” she sighed and cupped one of his cheeks. “You need to start opening your eyes.”

    “Shit, shit, shit!” Peter nearly fell off the statue of liberty as soon as he landed. He wasn’t exactly expecting to be greeted with an onslaught of curses. Was it too hard to get a ‘Nice to see you Spidey’? “Oh come on you worthless piece of…”

 “I can take my pizza and leave,” Peter snorted.

 “Spidey!” Johnny snapped up so fast he nearly fell off the statue from where he was sitting. “Don’t sneak up on people!” Johnny scowled after him.

 “I’m sorry you were too busy verbally abusing…” Peter eyes squinted down at Johnny’s wrist where Johnny’s previous contempt had been focused on. “A watch?” Peter tried to get a better look at the device on Johnny’s hand. “Are you really taking your frustration out on a watch? What has that thing ever done to you?”

 The watch face on Johnny’s hand went red and beeps before shutting down. Johnny’s head snapped to it and he screamed before attempting every button he could press on the watch. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever seen Johnny so frantic towards a device before. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I need you in my life!” Well then…. Is it weird to feel jealous of a watch?

 The watch powered back on and the face turned blue. Johnny let out a breath of relief, so Peter guessed everything was now fine and dandy. He took a seat next to Johnny and observed the device on his wrist. It didn’t look like anything from earth. That wasn’t impossible with the Fantastic Four’s ‘field trips’ as Johnny liked to call them. Could be alien. Could also be one of Reed’s inventions. That man’s brain was beyond their world. The scientist in Peter screamed to know more. “What is that?” Peter leaned in closer to get a better look.

 Johnny eyes flicked down to the watch and back up to Peter, “Nothing.”

 “I can see it on your wrist so it obviously isn’t nothing.” Johnny pressed a button on his wrist and the watch disappeared.

 “There nothing.” Johnny gestured to his arm now clear of any technology.

 “It has a camouflage mode?!” Peter’s jaw fell open. “Now you’re just teasing!”

 “It’s just something a friend gave me, okay,” Johnny his wrist away from Peter’s curious eyes.

 “Would this friend happened to be Alien or Atlantean?”

 “Maybe.”

 “Can I just get a peek?” Peter’s fingers inched closer to Johnny’s wrist.

 “No,” Johnny continued to pull his wrist away from Peter, “it's already acting funny. I don’t need you messing around with it with your weird science experiments.”

 “Weird Science Experiments? Do I look like a mad scientist to you?”

 “You understand the language of Reed,” Johnny flicked his eyes up and down on Spider-Man. “So, yes.”

 “Jokes on you,” Peter scoffed, “being compared with Reed Richards is a compliment.”

 Peter rolled his mask up to his nose and offered a slice of pizza to Johnny before taking one for himself. His eyes shifted to the watch disguised on Johnny’s wrist every now and again but Johnny was adamant about not talking about it. He can’t believe Johnny is keeping something so cool away from him. Johnny always loved to show off his gadgets. There was even a time where he persuaded Peter to sneak down to Reed’s lab to check out the new inventions. Johnny didn’t keep much from him. Family matters, friendships, relationships, break-ups, sex, very, very detailed descriptions of sex. He even was offered to watch to his sex tape which Peter declined maybe regretfully. The thought of watching Johnny with someone else was very repulsive in his mind.

 “Spidey!” Peter snapped his head in time to see a flaming pizza crust circling towards him. He yelped and dived forward off the statue barely missing the hot projectile. Peter shot a web up before his Spider body could go splat.

 “What the hell man!” Johnny scrunched up his face in annoyance. “I’ve been trying to get your attention!”

 “What the hell is up with you?!” Peter grabbed onto the ledge and pulled himself up. “Are you trying to set me on fire?!”

 “Why didn’t you just dodge?” Johnny folded his arms.

 “You set pizza crust on fire and throw it at me, but I’m the problem because I didn’t dodge!?”

 Peter was lost as to why Johnny would think throwing any flaming object at him would be a suitable way to get his attention. “Spidey,” Johnny started, “You let me set two dozen objects on fire and throw them at you while blindfolded and you dodged every one.”

 “That’s ridiculous, why would I let you do that?!”

 “I bet you a hundred bucks you couldn’t dodge them.”

 “...” That did sound like something he would have done for a hundred bucks. How does he not remember winning a hundred bucks? That doesn’t matter. “You can’t go throwing flaming objects at me!”

 “But doesn’t your spidey sense help you?”

 “It doesn’t work with…!” Peter bit his tongue and swallowed back that last word.

 “Is something wrong with your powers?” Johnny quickly melted into concern.

 “No,” Peter sighed. “It’s just complicated.” Johnny remained quiet,hoping he would continue but Peter had decided to change the conversation. “So, you have my attention.”

 “Huh?”

 “The reason you nearly turned me into a roasted Spider?” Peter glared at him from under the mask.

 “Oh, yeah,” Johnny tucked his hair behind his ear.

 “Sooo.”

 Johnny looked down to his lap, “When did you decide to tell your girlfr- ex-girlfriend about this life.”

 “That’s a bit tricky.” MJ already knew from the beginning. He could see Johnny waiting for an answer. “I guess when I knew I wanted to keep her in my life?”

 “Weren’t you scared?”

 “Well, yeah but I still had to tell her.” Peter gulped when Johnny torso continued to lean towards him. The distance between their bodies steadily decreasing. Peter’s instinct screamed for him to escape, before selective forgotten emotions resurfaced, but there that look in Johnny’s eyes that scared Peter.

 “But what if it was a deal breaker? What if you telling them changed everything for the worse?”

 He was weak for Johnny and he hated it. He hoped that Johnny himself would never find out. “You can’t go into a serious relationship halfway, either you’re all in or you’re not.” Peter eyes start drifting to Johnny’s lips, soft and pink, and like gravity he starts to drift towards them.

 “Even if it means losing everything you have with them.” Peter gets a good slap in the face by reality just enough for his brain to start functioning again. He had put some distance between him and Johnny before the other glanced back up. Thankfully Johnny is clueless about Peter’s actions and blinks at him. “Spidey?”

    He nearly kissed Johnny Storm. He wanted to kiss Johnny Storm. He was going to kiss Johnny Storm. If Peter hadn’t come to his senses back there, he couldn’t imagine what would have happened. A rejection from Johnny. An awkward atmosphere. A ruined friendship. There’s also the fact that he was probably seeing someone at the current moment.  

 “Are you sure you’re feeling well?” Spencer gave Peter’s hand a squeeze and frowned up at him. Spencer, his maybe boyfriend, has been worried about the heavy look on Peter’s face since they arrived at the amusement park. The immense guilt brewing in Peter’s stomach couldn’t help but show on his face.

 Peter forced a smile and nodded, “I’m fine.” He wasn’t fine. He thought he buried those feelings years ago, why did they resurface after all this time?

 “We can take a break,” Spencer pulled him to a stop. “You look sick.”

 “We’ve only been on two rides, I’m not weak.”

 Spencer looked unconvinced, “I’m not kissing those lips if I see that face going green.”

 “Oh really,” Peter leaned towards Spencer and pressed their lips together. He heard a tiny giggle from Spencer before he leaned in to kiss Peter back. This was good. What he had with Spencer felt right and was real. He didn’t need silly feelings with unrealistic expectations ruining what he already had.

 Peter retracted and placed another quick peck, “Come on.” Peter towed Spencer to the nearest roller coaster he could find, and Spencer gladly followed with a giant grin on his face.

 Peter pushed all his troubles to the back of his mind with Spencer at his side. He was able to distract himself from the flame head with quick chaste kisses with Spencer, and stuffing his gut down with popcorn and cotton candy. Taking a break from the thrill-seeking rides, they took a maze where a few of the walls were transparent. Safe to say Spencer was not the greatest at puzzles and details.  

 “Ow,” Spencer had run into his third wall since they entered here. “I hate mazes.” He folded his arms and grumbled as a spot on his forehead turned red.

 “Maybe you should watch where you are going?” Peter snickered.

 “How is anybody supposed to see anything in this horrible lighting?” Peter grabbed Spencer’s shirt in the middle of his rant. Spencer raised an eyebrow at him to which Peter pushed his hand forward and knocked his hand against the mirror Spencer was about to walk into. Spencer went silent and folded his arms, “Why don’t you just lead the way then?” He may have the unfair advantage of Spidey sense to help him.

 “It’s fun watching you suffer.”

 “Oh, is that-” A tiny beeping interrupted the sentence.

 “Do you hear that?” Peter looked around trying to find the source.

 “Hear what?” Spencer’s eyes went wide, and he suddenly began to fidget. “I have to go to the bathroom, now.” Spencer dashed off without not waiting for a reply. Peter was sure he heard Spencer bump into a few mirrors, but he ran off pretty quickly. Does he even know the way out? Spencer had a hard time getting around the maze when they came in. Peter doubts he’ll have a swell time trying to find the exit.

 “Oh, come on, where is the exit to this stupid thing.” Figures. Peter chuckled at the curse. He turned the corner with a shit eating grin on his face and started,

 “How are you lost already?” Peter stopped in his tracks when he saw the curly fluff of blonde hair. “Johnny?”

 The human torch froze when he saw Peter, “P-P-Peter, what are you doing here?”

 “I was about to ask you the same question,” Peter stepped forward and looked around. No sign of Spencer. “Hey, have you seen a guy with black hair, around my height walking into the walls around here.”

 “No, no, nope, just plain old me, alone, no one else,” Johnny’s smile was tight.

 “Oh.” He didn’t know where Spencer had run off to. He swore he saw him run around this corner. This amusement park had fun making a name for itself with their maze attraction. It was painfully complicated with its dark lighting and transparent walls strategically placed to drive people like Spencer insane. Peter could only hope that Spencer could find a way out.

 “You know you look busy and so am I,” Johnny started to back up, “so how about we catch up late- ow!” Johnny spun around in what was an attempt to leave this corner but instead walked right into one of the transparent walls. Peter blinked as Johnny cursed in pain. It was already weird running into Johnny, the one person he didn’t want to think about at an amusement park, but also in a maze. Johnny didn’t like doing those things. Maybe an exception would be on a date to get alone time with the person. Was Johnny on date? Peter didn’t see any date. He should punch himself in the face for feeling relieved.

 He should leave. Take the opening Johnny gave him and leave before he does something he regrets. “Do you need help?” He’s a bastard.

  Johnny shook his head and kept had his hands follow along the mirrors to help guide him. “No, no,” He does. Peter is only asking because Peter Parker is not supposed to know much more  than the public details about Johnny Storm.  “I love mazes so I should be fine.” He loathes mazes. He’s seen Johnny on the edge of burning down a haystack maze.

 “You know I’m also looking for the exit maybe I could tag along,” because he couldn’t leave Johnny in this helpless state, but Johnny would not just accept his help, so the only option left was to trick him.

 “Oh,” Johnny straightened himself, “if that’s the case then sure.”

 He may regret this.

 Peter easily found an exit to the maze, but the journey was torture. He couldn’t even look at Johnny, much less hold a conversation with him, and Johnny wasn’t up to much conversation either. In fact, he avoided all eye contact with Peter. This looked like the beginning of a great friendship. Aren’t they just the bestest of friends. When they reached outside, they were both long in an awkward silence.

 “So uhh,” No small talk topics came to Peter’s mind. An attempt to end the heavy atmosphere worsened it with Johnny still waiting to hear the end of Peter’s sentence. “I should go I need to find my boyfriend.” Way to go Peter Parker.

 “Oh,” Johnny ducked his head. His mouth curled down into a frown. “So, I guess I’ll see you around,” Johnny started to back away from him into the other direction.

 “Yeah, I guess.” Spencer, Peter had to remind himself. He resisted the urge to call Johnny and entertain him. He was here with Spencer and he was not going to be an asshole on the second date. He watched Johnny spin on his heels and hurry to disappear into the crowd. Peter stood there, waiting for Spencer to get back. His eyes occasionally drifted off to the spot he last saw Johnny, but he quickly shut down any other thoughts.

 When fifteen minutes had passed Peter started to get worried with no sign of Spencer. He wondered if Spencer was still stuck inside, walking into walls. He decided to ask the employees working at the maze. After a couple of questions, they were quick to check the cameras in the maze and confirmed that the only people in there was a family of four.

 Peter then went in search of the nearest bathroom. If he didn’t find Spencer, he could always go back to the entrance of the maze. Arriving at the bathroom Peter was relieved to see Spencer strolling out. His mind did a double-take when he saw the deep frown etched into the usually jolly face as he spoke one the phone.

  “Do you really need me now?” Spencer rolled his eyes. He didn’t notice Peter trailing some distance behind him. He could hear most of what Spencer was saying from the level the man was speaking. “I’m very busy.” Spencer eyebrows furrowed even deeper as he listened to the person on the other side. “I’m on a date!” Spencer screamed into the phone “Believe it or not I have a life you know! Not all of us have found our soulmates and are living happily ever after!” Spencer shoulders collapsed with all of his anger released. “No, just leave it,” he sighed. “I get it just give me a -”

 Peter felt his Spidey sense and suddenly the ground beneath them was shaking. There was a loud rupture followed by a symphony of terrified screams. What did New York have in store for him today?

 Was that a giant alien worm? In New York City? Heading straight for the amusement park? Wow just wow. Parker’s luck really had a way of just slapping him in the face sometimes. Where else does this happen?! Peter snapped his head towards Spencer, who was in shock at the creature like the rest audience around him. Peter sighed in regret to himself, with his resolve to find the nearest hiding spot to transform to Spider-Man instead of running off with Spencer to a safe place. While the latter was rather tempting, there were other civilians exposed to danger that he had to protect.

 As soon as he got changed, Peter swung up to a high structure to get a good vantage point of the amusement park. The most concerning thing right now were the people still stuck on the rides. Peter could see a disaster less than a mile away with that alien monster working its way around. The ride operators were working as fast as they could to have everyone off their respective ride, but would need time, which means keeping said giant alien away as far as possible. He’s just happy to have someone like Spencer helping to evacuate the area. It’ll be much easier to get that thing under control with less people around

.

.

.

Wait...

 Spencer?!

 There he could see the black-haired male directing people inside enclosed rides and booths for shelter. This would be great, l if Spencer was not running exactly into said danger at the same time! Why can’t he ever date normal people that run away in the face of danger? Does he have a type? A reckless, stupidly brave, always-gets-mixed-up-into-trouble type. Peter shot a web and swung down with a long sigh. Accelerating down he reached down and easily grabbed Spencer by the waist.

 Spencer yelped when his feet were suddenly picked off the ground, and spun to see his masked face. “Spidey?!” Peter was impressed; most civilians would have spent a good minute screaming at a sudden pick up.

 “The one and only,” Peter set Spencer down once he was sure they were a good distance away from any danger. Spencer eyes were blown wide at him. Peter remembered that he was a big fan of Spider-Man. First time meeting his favorite superhero must be a shock. “Look, I’m really happy to see other civilians pitching in to do their part, but it would be great if you could get to safety.” Maybe a little talk from his hero could knock some sense in him.

 Spencer eyes hardened and he pushed himself away outside Spider-Man’s grip, “No, I can’t, my boyfriend is still down there.”

 “Boyfriend?” Now that caught Peter’s attention.

 Spencer placed his hands on his hips, “Peter Parker, you should know him.”

 “I do.” He was boyfriend status!

 “Well, I need to find him.” Spencer tried to step around and run right back into the hazard territory Peter just rescued him from. With his quick reflexes, Peter grabbed Spencer shoulder and spun him right back around to the exit.

 “No, you need to get to safety,” Peter pointed to the giant exit way of the amusement park every other sane person was running to. “I’ll find Peter and make sure he’s safe.”

 “I’m not leaving without him.” Spencer refused again.

 For the love of all that is stubborn in the world! “I’m sorry, are you not freaked out by the giant alien looking worm terrorizing the park?” Peter pointed at the alien worm on a rampage screeching.

 Spencer eyes shifted up to it and he shrugged. Actually shrugged. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve seen.” Peter jaw was on the floor. Spencer was not acting; Peter could see Spencer searching the monster up and down with half-lidded eyes waiting for something to impress him. It’s a giant alien worm rampaging through the city what more does he want?! An alien invasion?! He was extremely worried, not for Spencer’s obvious indifference of giant creatures destroying things, but because he was still going to ask him out on another date.

  Peter didn’t have time to think over his interest in weird people. “Just get out of here, preferably somewhere safe and far away from here. I’ll find Peter!” Peter shot a web out and left Spencer with hope that he would listen.

 The worm had blasted through the merry-go-round and continued to screech

 “I’m sorry sir!” Peter blasted a web ball in its face. “You surpass the maximum size allowed on that ride.” That was enough to catch its attention towards Peter and bared it razor teeth at him. “Look, buddy I don’t make the rules, you’ll have to talk to management.” Peter flipped off seconds before the worm’s body tried to bash into him. Peter used the air time to shoot his web at the body of the monster to help restrain its movements. Peter then shot two of his webs to wrap around the monster and tightened his hold.

 “I really think we can talk this out, spider to worm,” The worm started to lose against Peter’s strength. “I mean you’re a bug and I’m an arachnid but I’m sure we can meet in the middl-ah!.” A sudden strong pull from the worm the momentum threw Peter in the air. With his webs still attached to the worm, he swung around like one of the amusement park rides until he was whiplashed across the park into the Ferris Wheel controls. “I’ll take that as a no,” Peter groaned. He was definitely going to be feeling that tomorrow.

 Peter’s head floated up to the screaming above him. There were still people trapped on the Ferris Wheel. He quickly grabbed sight of the worm which was making its way across to him. Not good. He pushed his aching body up and prepared himself to once again go head on with a giant alien worm. An alien worm that now had a grudge against him. Before he could attack the worm, it hit against an invisible wall.

 “Aaahhhh!” Ben came running out of nowhere and body slammed into the worm sending it flying.

 “Careful, Ben we don’t want to hurt it,” Reed voice came in the distance, where he was being carried by Sue.

 “Really, Stretch, that’s what you’re worried about!” Ben wrestled with the worm as it hissed its teeth after him. “Me hurting it!” Reed hopped down to help Ben and wrapped his body around the worm to stifle its movement.

 “Are you hurt?” Sue landed next to Peter.

 “No, no, nothing I can’t handle,” Peter shook his head. “More importantly, we need to get these people to safety.” Sue looked up at Ferris Wheel passengers and nodded.

 “Got it!”

 While Ben and Reed kept the monster under control Peter and Sue started to extract civilians from the ride and escort them to safety.

 “So, would any of you know why this thing is rampaging through the city.” Peter ripped open the door and gave way for them to step on Sue’s levitating force-field.

 Sue’s shoulders fell and she let out a breath in exhaustion, “We may have busted an illegal underground alien auction.”

 “New York has illegal underground alien auctions?” Well color him surprised.

 “The wealthy got bored of their rare exotic animals.” She rolled her eyes and set down the mass of people they collected.

 “So, they went for more extra-terrestrial tastes?”

 “Would ya stop yappin’ and hurry so ya can help me down here?! I don’t know how long I can hold him down!”

 “Where is Johnny?” Peter asked Sue noticing the absence of petty talk and teasing towards him.

 “Off doing better things.” Ben grumbled

 “Ben...,” Reed started in warning.

 “I swear I’m  globberin’ that kid when I see him.”

 “Oh, I’m sorry that I’m not always readily available.” The Human Torch flew above them his tone obviously displeased with Ben.

 “Flamebrain!” Peter set another civilian on the ground.

 “I thought you were busy?” Sue said with no ill-intent in her voice.

 “I was until this thing came and ruined everything.” Johnny mumbled under his breath. He hurried to rescue the last person on the Ferris wheel. He landed beside Sue and they both exchanged looks. Peter glanced between the both of them a couple of times before he realized they were in the middle of one of their sibling standoffs.

 “You could have told me you had a date,” Sue folded here arms

 “You had a what?!” Both Johnny and Sue ignored Peter’s exclamation.

 “It’s a bit weird right now I don’t want to scare him off.” Johnny eyes drifted away from her

 “How is telling me that you have a date going to scare him off?”

 “Uhh can we reverse back to the part about the date.” Peter tried once again to intervene.

 “Because you would want to meet him.” Johnny gave her that look that she knew exactly what he was talking about. Peter had an inkling. He would be scared too if he was getting the ‘if you ever hurt him’ speech’ and Sue was on the other side.

 “Only if it was serious,” Sue threw her hands in the air, “which it obviously looks like it is.”

 “Serious? How are you seeing someone, and I don’t know about them!” Peter pushed himself in front of Johnny. The green monster growing stronger in the pit of his stomach.

 “It’s complicated okay!”

 “Don’t worry about me honey!” Reed shouted in the middle of their squabble.

 “It’s not like we ain’t struggling to hold down this ugly bug!” Ben yelled as the worm’s movements

 “Johnny,” Sue pointed at the worm and their two teammates tangled together

 “On it” He flamed on and flew above them. Ben and Reed suddenly let the worm go

 The bug hissed at the hot flames and curled up into a tight ball to protect itself.

 “T-Thank you Johnny,” Reed was finally able to catch his breath with everything finally in control. Johnny landed beside him along with Sue and Peter. The group went quiet everyone exchanging looks with each other until Reed stopped his glance on Johnny. He gave him a small smile, “Sooo, how was your date?” If there were metal bars in Peter’s hands, they would be bending in two.

  Peter excused himself at the first opening, not being able to stomach any details about Johnny’s date with a boyfriend he forgot to mention to him. Another good slap in the face, sponsored by reality. Maybe now his heart would get the memo. File those dusty old feelings away for good where no one could find them. Better yet, burn them. Johnny already had plenty of better candidates to choose from.

 Why was he even thinking about Johnny? He had Spencer now. He had his boyfriend, Spencer, to think about now. Peter quickly got changed and checked his phone. Three missed calls and ten text messages all from Spencer. “Shit!” Peter cursed under his breath. Peter immediately called and he got an immediate response.

 “Hello, Peter? Where are you?! Are you hurt?!”

 “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Peter eased Spencer’s worries. “What about you?”

 “I’m fine, nothing to worry about.”

 Peter fixed the phone against his ear, “Where are you? I’ll meet you there.”

 “Wellll,” Spencer trailed off. “I think I’m somewhere near that Rock n’ Roll coaster?Oh I see the maze that we went in, never trying that again.”

 Peter hoped he was hearing wrong. “Uhh, Spencer,” Peter cleaned out his ears, “it sounds like you are still in the amusement park.”

 “Yeah, I am.”

 “You’re what!” Spencer screamed at the volume and cried about his ears. “What are you doing there? Didn’t Spider-Man tell you to leave?!”

 “Yeah but….” Spencer trailed off, probably trying to cook up some excuse.

 “Don’t worry, stay right there I am coming to get you!” Peter ended the call before Spencer could reply. Completely reckless, stupid, not-well thought out..!

 He can’t believe he’s still going to ask this guy out again. Does he know how to pick them or what?

  Peter didn’t run much of a distance since he got changed just a few rides away from the maze. He was able to easily spot out Spencer, especially since there was an absence of the usual thousands of people in the amusement park. But Spencer wasn’t alone.

 “What the hell!” Peter was able to recognize Sue Storm, and she was in the middle of an argument with Spencer.  She had that motherly scowl set on her face that she used to (sometimes still does) give to him, Johnny and the rest of the Fantastic Four when they have stepped out of line.

 “I know okay! I know! So, I don’t need some goddamn lecture about what I’m doing.” But Peter has never seen anyone but Johnny snap back at Sue like that.

 Her eyes narrowed down at Spencer with a terrifying ferocity, “Great, I don’t have to explain to you the moral implications of every single thing you are doing!”

 “I’m being serious here!” Spencer still didn’t back down.

 “If you were being serious, you wouldn’t be messing with this person like you are now. What are you going to do when they find out huh?!”

 Spencer hesitated and dropped his head, “I’m not messing around; I’m planning on telling them when the time is right.”

 Sue’s glare softened and she sighed “You don’t-,”

 “Stop treating me like a kid, Sue! I can make my own decisions!” A watch suddenly appeared on Spencer’s wrist and Peter could instantly recognize it from it unique looking style. That was the watch that Johnny was wearing. It started to glitch and Peter saw the black hair on Spencer’s hair fade to blonde. His body and face shrunk slightly in size. As Peter watched Spencer transform, the one thing that remained the same were those damned blue eyes he couldn’t get out of his head. They were familiar because he’s been seeing them for years on the one and only Johnny Storm. “Shit,” Johnny cursed at the watch. “Why do you keep doing this?” Johnny groaned and looked ready to start a one-sided rant with the watch, when he looked up and meet Peter eyes. Peter was staring back at him with an unmoving gaze. They both know what he just saw.

 Spencer was Johnny.

 Johnny was Spencer.

 What was it that he said before? The he had Spencer in his life? Finally moving on from Johnny? Peter could laugh at himself. Spencer wasn’t his.

 Spencer wasn’t even real.

 “P-Peter?” Johnny trembled. Sue turned to look at him, her eyes already clear about the situation. “Peter,” Johnny tried again. “J-Just let me explain, okay.”

  Johnny flinched at Peter’s icy glare. Even Sue found herself taking a step back. “Explain what?!” His words dripping with venom towards the boy his heart ached for. He was an idiot. All those smiles, those laughs, those good times Peter treasured they were meaningless. None of it was real!

“Peter, please it’s not what you think!” Johnny’s voice cracked on the last three words. Those blue eyes Peter had been so obsessed with became glossy and started to pool with tears. Maybe a few moments ago when he hadn’t known the truth he would have rushed to Johnny’s side and dried them away with his fingers but now he had the burning in the back of his eyes to deal with. “Pete-”

“Save it for someone who cares Storm,” Peter spun away from Johnny, away from anything that could change his mind. He didn’t want to give Johnny a chance. So he did what was the easiest thing for him to do. The only thing he knew to do during these emotionally stressful situations.

 He ran.

   Few weeks ago

 Johnny blinked and tried to steady his breath. Just a moment ago he was out flying above New York City in an epic battle with his team and Spider-Man against a group of wannabe magicians. They had managed to corner the group but in a rushed moment to wrap it up quickly he got caught off guard with a spell and got a direct hit. The last thing he remembered was Spider-Man reaching out for him before blacking out. Now he was standing in the middle of a kitchen he was unfamiliar with; in an apartment he couldn’t identify with no idea what that spell did. He would say teleportation, but he wasn’t in his uniform. He was in pajamas with a fresh cup of coffee sitting in front of him.

 Still he had everything under control. Just remember what Reed said, ‘Don’t freak out and….’ He may have forgotten the rest. But he’s sure the most important part was don’t freak out. He can do that.

 “Daddy?” Johnny's went still when a little boy with light brown hair and blue eyes looked right up at him.

 Okay, he was freaking out!

 To be continued

Prev|Next

[cecilspeaks]

140 - A Blood Stone Carol

It’s winter and the weather’s freezing, quite appalling. You stay in, aloof. 

But footsteps, yes, there’s someone creeping, crying, calling. A stranger up upon on your roof. Welcome to Night Vale.

It’s the holidays, listeners, when the majority of this country celebrate how their experience of this season is defined as the default universal experience. While every other cultural group’s experience is expected to be in reaction and comparison not the majority’s experiences. And if a person doesn’t wish to live in reaction to this default experience of the season, they are seen as hostile or (beliterant) merely for their wish to not participate in what is, after all, a celebration of the erasure of their culture under the dominant violence of another’s. all to say, happy blood stone day to those who celebrate it!

Now last year, your air waves were unfortunately taken over by a horrible pirate podcast, telling a story that was quite unfit for any listener’s ears. So I’d like to remediate that by telling a story of my own. A Night Vale holiday classic, one I’m sure all of you know. But isn’t there pleasure in hearing once again the story you can recite every word of? It is like visiting a friend.

Night Vale Community Radio presents to you, dear listener, A Blood Stone Carol.

Our story begins on the evening of Blood Stone Day Eve. A Mr. Scrooge was being quite horrid to his employees: underpaying them, shouting, some light flaying, et cetera. His employees howled their displeasure. “Take it up with HR,” said Scrooge. This was his way of a jokes a HR had been cats into a pit several days before because they suggested perhaps there could be slightly less flaying in the office.

Scrooge valued three things. One, himself. Two, his money. Three, nothing else. He went home from the office quite content with the way he had spent his day. He had made a good deal of money and a good deal of misery, and both seemed fair and right to him. His bed was made by a housekeeper he’d never met, who came while he was at work, and set everything in his home so it looked like no one had ever lived there. Signs of life bothered Scrooge. So I guess it was good news that the person sitting at his kitchen table was dead.

Mr. Marley, a business partner of Scrooge’s who had died some time before. And he looked it. his skin peeled and bubbled, where there was skin left. The smell was tremendous. “My god,” Scrooge said, “What is this?” Marley turned toward him as best he could, for he was wrapped in heavy chains. And he said, as best he could, for his tongue was mostly missing: “You will be visited by three spirits.” “I’ll be visited by what?” Marley muttered “three spirits” again and then fell heavily to the floor, and rolled out of the kitchen awkwardly in his heavy chains. The smell lingered, and Scrooge felt ill. “Well this won’t do,” Scrooge said. “I’m going right to bed and forgetting all of this.”

And so he did go right to bed. But hardly had closed his eyes, when he heard a noise. A guttural slurping sound like someone inhaling paste. Scrooge sat up and looked about the room, but it was as empty and dark and clean as before. “Is someone there?” he shouted, knowing that the answer was no, and also that the answer was yes. There was no one there, but no one was there. Stubborn, he closed his eyes and tried to send himself (determinedly) to sleep. But no sooner did he try that he heard a whiffling sound quite near his ear, like loose lips flapping. His eyes snapped open. The room was still empty. “Are you the first of these spirits?” Scrooge shouted. “Well, then show yourself!” And again, nothing. But a nothing that held weight. A nothing that was very much something in itself. This time, Scrooge decided he wouldn’t try to go to sleep. He would sit up in bed and wait out this so-called spirit. If anything occurred, his eyes would be open to see it.

Then, he blinked. When his eyes opened again a microsecond later, there was a face inches from his face. The face was too close to perceive any details except a sense of – clammy paleness, of eyes that were wide but with no pupils, of a mouth that drooped sideways. Scrooge yelped and scrambled backward along the bed, but it was no good. The face stayed with him, still being exact same distance, nearly pressed up against his own. The face hooted at him, a bad joke of a voice, but Scrooge didn’t find it funny. He got out of bed, tried to escape, but the face was with him the entire time. No matter where he turned, no matter where he went, this yowling hairless face hung in front of his own. “What are you, spirit?” he cried. “What have you come to teach me?” But this was the ghost of Blood Stone Day past, and like the past, it was inescapable, but had no point, no lesson to impart. It merely was. The ghost moaned, and he felt cold saliva spreading over him. The face came even closer, until their noses touched, and the face’s nose came apart like wet paper machete. “Go away, go away, go away!” Scrooge cried. And it did go away, as quickly as it had come, the ghost had left. Scrooge had gained nothing from the encounter. In fact, much had been taken from him.

Scrooge was speechless and breathless. And if he had breath and if he had speech, what could he say? There were no words for what he had seen. He went and made himself some tea, but couldn’t find a way to swallow it. He kept feeling the nose dissolve against his nose like marshy soil, like our memories as we age. Three spirits, Marley had said. How was he to face two more of them?

He went warily to his bed, waiting at any moment for a ghastly visage to swim toward him out of the shadows. But nothing came. He sat on the bed, still nothing. He got in bed, nothing. He closed his eyes and opened his eyes, nothing had come to his room. Instead, he was no longer in his room. He got up bewildered. His bed was now in a forest, dense enough that it was impossible to see more than a hundred feet in any direction, but sparse enough that it was well lit, although he could not see any sun in the sky. There was some detail about this place, other than his abrupt appearance in it, that was setting him on edge. He spun around, waiting for a devil to pounce on him from the underbrush, but it was silent.

Hold on. It was silent, absolutely so. That was what was making him nervous. There was no rustle of the trees, no call of birds. He had never felt so alone. And it was, as he thought this, that he saw in the distance a figure. The figure was tall and gray and shaped like a human, mostly. It had a wide mouth and it was screaming. Scrooge couldn’t hear it. He wanted no part of whatever this figure represented and turned to run. But when he turned, the figure was there too, absolutely still, absolutely silent. And screaming in mortal terror. Scrooge did not know how he knew it was terror, only that he knew. Fear was thick in the air. He could taste it on his tongue. This figure was terrified and it was still and it was silent.

Scrooge set his back straight and remembered who he was, an important business man after all, a powerful man that caused other men to wither and quake. So he walked toward the figure. But he was not able to approach it. No matter how far he went into the forest, the figure remained in the distance. Its limbs were splayed, it was dozens of feet tall, its mouth was wide, it was screaming and there was no sound at all.

Finally, Scrooge couldn’t take it. He screamed back, and that’s when he found he could make no sound either. There they were, the figure and him. They were both terrified, and neither of them could make even the smallest squeak, even the tiniest whisper of fear. Without release, the fear had nowhere to go, and it prowled Scrooge’s rib cage, a wild animal seething in captivity. If he could, Scrooge would have torn it out of his chest, but he couldn’t. He could only stand there and face the figure of the ghost of Blood Stone Day present. Both of them could scream silently.

After hours of this, perhaps even days, he found he was back in his bedroom. Yet no time had passed at all. Scrooge wept. He was envious of the ghosts whose job it was to haunt. He no longer wanted to be himself, whose job it was to be haunted. He muttered as he wept, a matter of envy. “I wish I were dead, oh, I wish I were dead.”

From outside, the sound of the weather seemed to echo his words.

[“Draggin' Me Down” by Travis Love Benson featuring Yo! The Moon travislovebenson.com] [the song begins with “I wish I were dead”]

Scrooge lay in his bed, shivering, waiting for the visit from the third spirit. Given what he had experienced so far, he had to believe that the spirits had saved the most terrible for last, and he could not imagine what hideous phantom would gather itself in the darkness. He kept his eyes closed and awaited cold breath on his ear, or a dry finger caressing his cheek, but nothing came.  The tension was enormous and he felt his stomach tighten. In fact, he became quite nauseous. He put his hand on his stomach, an instinctual gesture to calm his own body, and one that was utterly futile. It was as though his abdomen were an altar and his placating hand an offering placed by a condemned man. The offering would not be accepted. The man would remain condemned.

Scrooge felt within his abdomen – a movement, and realized he was feeling the clenching of his intestines seized by the terrible feeling within him. They tightened and released, tightened and released, and he could feel the strange twitching of them. He became aware all at once that this coiled creature lived within him and could at any time turn against him. This awareness, and ht dread still hanging over him about the approaching spirit, brought with it a wave of panic. With the panic came dizziness. Now his stomach lurched and his intestines clenched and his head swam. He did not feel in control of any part of himself. How could it be this awful? And the ghost was yet to even appear to him.

Scrooge shambled up out of bed and moved blindly through the malevolent darkness to the bathroom. He kneeled before the toilet, a pitiful supplicant, but nothing came. Relief would not be so easy as a purge. This feeling (waltzed) in him, it took him, and he was not in control of his body. His feet felt numb. Had his feet felt numb this entire time or was this a new symptom?

He stumbled up and to the mirror and saw himself, and here was the final horror for him. He looked no different. The same face, the same flesh, the same hair. His eyes were his eyes, only with the light of panic in them. And in that moment, he knew, and in knowing, he despaired. There was no third spirit coming for him, there was only the failure and strangeness of his own body. This, truly, was the ghost of Blood Stone Day yet to come. For as the years passed, his body would drift farther and father from his own conception of it. He would rebel and he would suffer strange torments that would alter his life, and the doctors would furrow their brow and be unable to diagnose anything, because the symptoms were too diffused. “You’re just getting older,” the doctors would say to him, and he would scream: “But this isn’t my body, I want my body back!” But it was his body, and like all bodies, it would not remain loyal.

His intestines writhed harder and his tongue felt thick. And he didn’t know if he was breathing, and his hands were also numb, and then he was falling. And then – he was gone. Elsewhere, children slept. Elsewhere, the religious prayed and the not religious wished. Elsewhere, sleepers dreamed. Elsewhere, there was a near infinite multitude of lived experience of which we each only get to live one.

The next morning, it was Blood Stone Day. Scrooge awoke and stood stiffly from the bathroom floor. He went to the window. Tiny Tim was there on the street bench, backward and chittering, as Tiny Tim did. All around Tim, the people of Night Vale went about their preparations for Blood Stone Day dinner. Scrooge didn’t see them. He watched Tiny Tim shake and shake, bending farther and father backward. He watched Tim. Tim shook.

And so ends the story of Scrooge. There is nothing to learn from this story. Most stories have nothing to teach us.

It’s winter, dear and frightful listeners. The days are hot and the nights are cold, and I hope you have someone out there who cares for you. And if you don’t, then know that I care for you. And know that you are never truly alone, for in the darkness, there are always others with you, whether you like it or not. Don’t open your eyes unless you want to see them.

Have a happy Blood Stone day, and good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: The universe contains, among other things, black holes, vast clouds of gas and light, a planet made of diamond and –your tiny body.

[porscheczar110]

Another Modern Rayllum AU

Been looking for a Narcos Rayllum AU? Probably not. But my sister in law wrote one anyways. This is a series of comical vingnettes im which Callum comes to terms with the fact that 1) he was born into a Narco family and 2) his best friend/girlfriend is a sicario.

Summary: Sicario- Noun. sicario (plural sicarios) hitman, hired killer (especially when referring to Latin American drug cartels).

A collection of snippets that offer a glimpse into the life of Callum after the mysterious assassin, Rayla, barges into his life. He may not have signed up for it, but he wasn't going to complain.

Read Part 1 here.

1. Of Meeting

“I’ve come to kill you.”

Callum looked up at the woman standing over him in awe. She was framed by the light of an abnormally large full moon, silvery hair tied up and swaying in the wind. He scrambled back from her, confused. His interest was piqued. This had never happened before.

She advanced on him, and he jerked to his feet with a snort of laughter. His fear seemed to dissipate as adrenaline spiked through his veins, giving him a clear head. “Okay, very funny. Who hired you? Was it Soren? How much did he pay you? His jokes are getting worse and worse.” Callum was no stranger to his friend’s wild antics. The blonde lived to torment him, although it was mostly good-natured. This was a bit morbid, even by Soren’s standards.

“I—Soren? Who’s that?” she asked in confusion. “I can’t just give up my employer because you asked . Now, lay down, and take your death like any honorable person would.”

“Oh, you’re a real hoot. I’m sure you’re a great hit at parties. Here’s the deal,” Callum said, wiping dirt from his shirt. “I’m going to go home, and you’re going back to your ‘employer,’ and let him know the job has been done. I’m spooked! Yay for you. I have an exam tomorrow. That’s why I’m walking home so late. I don’t exactly have time for a punk prank right now. We can meet up later, and try this again, okay? See you soon!”

“But I—”

Callum spun on his heel and continued toward his house.

He would think back on the interaction later when his grade wasn’t on the line.

2. Of Kingpin

Callum pushed his textbook and notes away in disgust. His groan echoed around the study room he and Rayla were currently occupying. “Enough, enough! The numbers aren’t making sense anymore. I can’t do this, Ray.”

She laughed, continuing to copy down equations from the PowerPoint in front of her. “Don’t you have a tutor for everything?”

“No,” he denied vehemently. “My father tried to get one for everything, but I refused. I wanted to do this on my own. I’m going to ring the cook up. Did you want anything to snack on? I’m thinking jelly tarts.”

She finally paused her writing and pinned him with a stare. His breath caught at her amethyst orbs. No one should be as lovely as she. It had to be some sort of crime, being so deadly and beautiful. Although, if he called the cops, he was pretty sure they would be in more trouble than her.

“Tutors for days. Personal chefs and butlers and nannies and—”

“Do you have a point?” He felt his cheeks heating. It wasn’t his fault he was born into money. And he wasn’t very conscious about it. His life was as it was, and that was that.

“Cal...”

“Yes, Rayla?”

“Do you even know what it is your dad does?”

“Uh, I’m not sure. Something with oil? Or was it pharmaceutical distributions? Maybe both?”

Rayla smacked her forehead and looked as if she wanted to shake him. “Your father is the biggest drug distributor in the continent . And you’re telling me you don’t know?”

“So he does work in pharma?”

“No, Callum,” she sighed heavily, clicking onto the next slide on her laptop. “Not pharma drugs. I’m talking about illegal, recreational drugs. Your dad is a king pin. A drug lord. A narco . Where do you think all your money came from?”

He sputtered, grasping for an answer. “Investments?”

She snorted and gave him a sardonic smile. “Oh, he sure invests alright. Invests in all sorts of things. Like guns and drugs and lawyers and—"

Callum cut her off, not wanting to hear the extensive list of places his father funneled money into. “Don’t you think I would’ve found out by now?”

“Yes. Hence why I’m surprised you didn’t know until I brought it up.” She raised a brow, and damnit if his heart didn’t skip a beat. Did she have to be so magnetic?

Stop it, he chastised himself. Gotta focus.

“If my dad is the head honcho of some big baddie drug operation, why were you sent to kill me ? Shouldn’t you go after him?”

She suddenly stiffened, hand twitching against her laptop arrow keys. Callum scanned her face, looking for a slip in her mask. The slight twitch in her eye gave away her stress.

“You were going to be bait. Your death wasn’t going to be on that sidewalk that night.”

“Oh,” he said weakly, not really understanding what she was implying.

She failed to meet his stare, shifting to fumble with her highlighter.

He glanced down at her backpack, cringing slightly at the barely concealed handgun peeking out from a slightly unzipped pocket.

Oh .

She was talking about extortion.

Torture.

Hostage.

She was, after all, a sicario .

And Callum found he minded that less and less.

3. Of Sicario

“So you’re telling me… You’re a what ?”

“ Sicario . I’m a hired hitman. Or I guess hitwoman? Or maybe hired assassin is easier for your brain to process.”

“Call it whatever you want. It’s not like I’d be able to pronounce the word.” Was that him laughing? It sounded borderline hysterical.

“Repeat after me. Slowly. See .”

“ See .”

“ Car .”

“ Car .”

“ Eeo .”

“ Eeo .”

“ Sicario. ”

“ Seecareeo ?”

“Eh, close enough. Not much we can do about your accent, really,” she teased.

“Okay, okay. So then… You’re a sicario ?” Callum couldn’t help the way his voice cracked at the word. It didn’t help that his Spanish was nonexistent.

Rayla barked out a laugh and shook her head at him. “The first thing I ever said to you was that I was going to kill you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry that my first thought wasn’t ‘ hitman’ ! I was running on no sleep and stressed out of my mind. What the hell, Ray? You were going to kill me!”

She shrugged and unlocked the car doors, and he hurried to the passenger’s seat. “Multiple times actually. I didn’t decide to keep you alive until Janai tried to kill you, too.”

“ What? That was months after we first met!”

Rayla gave him a wicked smirk. “Yup! You are very good at annoying me. Too good. What else was I supposed to contemplate?”

He shook his head in disbelief. She knew exactly how to get under his skin, too. The only other person that could get him riled up so quickly was Ezran, but Callum attributed that to a sibling kind of thing. “You could’ve contemplated a million other things.”

“Are you… Are you butthurt?” The disbelief in her voice was obvious.

“No,” he snapped, staring out the window.

“I was just doing my job,” she reminded him. There was no mistaking the glee in her voice.

“Oh, yeah! You did a fantastic job seeing as how I am still right here.”

She snorted and patted his shoulder. The contact had him whipping around to watch her profile as she drove. “Just know I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She leaned forward and turned up the volume of her music, mouthing the words along as she sped along the highway.

Now what did that mean?

4. Machetes

Callum kicked a rock away from his path, muttering obscenities into the dark. He’d lost three out of five rounds of rock-paper-scissors-lizard-Spock, and he was not a happy camper. Rayla had a bunch of junk in her car, and he was the lucky one now tasked with shifting through it all for some obscure USB. He glanced down at the pen marking on his hand, unable to help the small smirk at her chicken scratch.

And the drinks , the barely legible words reminded him. He also had to carry a too-heavy pack of drinks back to the party which was too far away for his comfort. He was an artist by trade, not some beefy powerlifter. Normally, he would’ve dragged Soren out with him to do the transporting, but his friend was out of town that weekend, watching some type of sports game.

He grumbled as he unlocked the car, digging around through her junk. He must’ve been outside for at least half an hour before he moved onto the trunk. And with some more extensive searching, he ran into a pair of really rusted machetes.

“Rayla really is strange,” he muttered to himself, slowly sliding them out of the trunk. He couldn’t decide if they were real or not, and he didn’t feel like touching the blade to find out. The handles were like a mix between plastic and wood which was more than enough for him to make a judgement call.

Eh, fake then.

He twirled them around clumsily, and a plan began to form. A devious little smile began to spread across his face, and he closed and locked her car. He snuck back to the house, careful to stay in the shadows. As luck would have it, it seemed like Rayla had stepped out to take a call.

Perfect.

With her back to him, he began rustling the bushes. She whipped around, free hand slipping to her back. He jumped out, hollering and floundering with the blades.

“Holy hell , Callum! Put those down! No, no— Stop waving them around. And take them back to the car! Jesus , dude. Are you trying to kill someone?” She stayed tense for a moment more before sliding back into a regular, if not enraged, stance. She pulled the phone from her ear, presumably muting it to yell some more at him.

Callum couldn’t help but laugh at the horror and redness creeping across Rayla’s face as he finally let his arms fall to his sides. “It’s just a joke, Ray. You’ve gotta relax.”

“You are so lucky I’m the only one out here! What if someone had seen you? I just—” She ran a hand through her hair roughly, and Callum felt like maybe he was the only one that found the situation funny. “Whatever. Go take them back to the car right now. Then go say bye. We’re leaving.” She turned back to her phone and continued speaking sternly at whoever was on the other line.

He couldn’t understand a word she was saying, but he knew it wasn’t good. He stayed rooted to the spot a few more moments, unsure of what to do. It was getting late, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to go just yet. It was the most logical thing to do, but he hated that she was dictating his actions. Although she was the one with the car today. And he didn’t really know anyone inside anyways. He’d much rather have another movie night with her, Ezran, and their dog, Zym.

“ Seriously , dude. Go .” She jerked her finger in the direction of her vehicle, and he tried his best not to pout. At her worsening glare, he probably didn’t do a good job at schooling his features.

“Fine, fine ,” he snapped. “But I’m going to pretend to be fighting off a wicked dragon the whole way back,” he called. She opened her mouth, but he hurried off before she could get another word out, slashing at invisible enemies with the machetes and tossing in an occasional theatrical grunt.

“ Callum,” she roared, and he heard rushing footsteps behind him.

Oh, heck no! He thought stubbornly. She wasn’t going to catch him, and she sure wasn’t about to ruin the fun for him. If he wanted to run around and flail with her machetes, he was going to. And she was going to be powerless to stop him. “You can’t catch me!” he hollered back, darting forward into the night. He had gotten too much of a head start, even for a trained assassin. She’d catch him eventually, when he was too tired to do much else but sway around.

For now, he’d enjoy the chase. And something told him she did, too. Regardless if she’d ever admit it or not.

[dispensemiracles]

Birthday Drabble 2019 

I’ve been away cuz we had a death in my immediate family and was also doing stuff for other fandoms because I was feeling them more 

Wanted her to do some self love so she’s alone like last year but its in a positive way (also i know its late now and idc its for me)

She crossed her feet on the numerous pillows and scrolled through her phone. The heat of June made the room swelter despite her fan’s efforts. It stood blowing hot air onto her face; rattling when she buried her face in the sheets and flailed. She groaned like a child threatening a tantrum. The ding of her message notifications continued ceaseless as a wave at tide. 

“I get it I get it you’re all very busy this year. Lady Luck has abandoned you, and there’s no way I can broker anything so suddenly.”

She flipped on her back to scrunch her face at the ceiling as if it ought to know a piece of her mind. It calmed into a parade of several funny expressions that came at random. After a time she laughed but most importantly she turned herself to contemplation. Eli would webcam her by evening over three thousand kilometers away in her grandmother’s spare bedroom. The other seven in their divided, hectic collective had, partially influenced by their shame, vowed to leave their lines of communication open. Extra emphasis had been given to spam her congratulations in the meanwhile. 

There were research papers due, some overdue, work to remain on to make rent, hay fever. Each felt given to expressing their regret unprompted until it drove her blistering mad by the flush darkening her face. She furiously typed replies on her keyboard and that was the end of it. For a pause of untold length she stared into space. Absentmindedly she groped for a pillow and cradled it, unable to fixate on any singular want. By the swift calculations of her brilliant mind she took comfort in above all else the assurance of companionship. 

It remained an odd concept to grasp that caught her examining its reality in spontaneous bursts. Though not always physical she could speak at anytime, shout into a void if she chose; an answer would be sent back. All at once she felt power surge within her. What a privilege, a delight social contact was, a gift few knew to know friends. Though years had passed since her emergence from the alien otherness of isolation its grip remained imprinted vividly. She sighed as frustration ebbed away from her. The others had not shunned her, had remained and would remain regardless of form. A word floated to the surface in her thoughts, stability. 

It had an air of the forbidden to consider herself approximate to the concept. For over a decade prior there’d been only wandering and loss, wandering and loss, indifference building in between. There was stability of status and it’s brotherhood but what then was left for the equally important self? This idea split her tangent in two and opened a new door. She made to get properly dressed then found herself gladly away. 

The intimate lighting, packed seating, and embedded scent of grilled meats was everything she’d hoped for. Patrons crowded around their tables centered by table grills and conversation. She examined them all with her curious eyes; salarymen attended their bosses with regret mounting beneath their over-enthusiasm, friends told jokes with years of layers, another birthday or two was being raucously celebrated. A smile came over her as her mouth watered spying the glistening meats served in passing. 

Without delay she was seated and handed a menu. An array of sliced beef in dazzling variety opened before her. The haze of smoking meat flooded her nose in renewed force. Her stomach growled in obnoxious protest. A beat passed before she remembered her surroundings and the saintly patience of the waitress. She blushed in embarrassment. At a glance she spied the prices and set the menu down.

“I’ll have everything you can bring me until I’ve finished.”

The waitress gave her a sharp look as her eyes widened. She appeared suddenly as if she’d swallowed a bee; in seconds her professionalism returned. Nozomi refrained from giggling.

“We are currently experiencing some delay due to rush hour. We’re sorry if this causes any inconvenience but we’ll serve you as best we can. Anything to drink?”

“Melon soda please.”

“To be refilled?”

“Yes.” Nozomi said with a grin.

She was left alone to wait. Ever restless her hands fiddled with the table grill’s heat level. She made a game of counting the speed at which she could eye something else, then snap to the red coals. When her drink was set beside her she thrust her hands on her lap; they remained their until her prize arrived.

A long plate of thin sliced raw beef piled generously was served. Hungrily she licked her lips to the nervous onlooking of the waitress. The moment she rushed to attend other guests Nozomi wasted no time lining the grill. She drummed her fingers as the beef cooked and not a smidgen of coals could be seen beneath. In this routine she passed the hour oblivious to that which did not concern stuffing her mouth. 

She took simple joy in every detail. There was magic in the meat crisping golden brown, in the fuzzy drinks; most of all she was too busy to feel alone. When at last she meandered onto the street full and carefree she stretched. Her attending waitress had watched her leave in awe and shook her head. The day continued into late noon. 

Her gait was slow though she hadn’t a worry. With her stomach sorted her mind now hungered for new excitement. She checked her phone, replied to her messages with a lightened heart, and began to whistle. The sun reflected off each skyscraper grander than the last. It made her suddenly want to skip without abandon as she framed one using her hands. Strangers threw cautionary stares her way; they failed when her newfound optimism deflected them all. A destination appeared in her mind’s eye as she spun then walked giddy. 

The arcade was lit brighter than day itself on ranks of machines. Some were bulky, others massively wide, a few slim. Some had stood where they were since the nineties. The wear and tear marking them hid subtly beneath well kept surfaces. She felt them put her at ease because they were things like her; because they were welcome distractions. Curious she wandered the floors eyeing everything like a kid in a candy store. What little restraint she still possessed came only out of courtesy until she settled on a taiko game. 

Before she could boot up a level a boy of twelve slunk near. He eyed everything he passed with a mix of scrutiny and inquiry. His hands were in his blue jacket pockets and his bag bent on his slouched back. A red baseball cap with ‘Get Smoked’ emblazoned across the forehead shadowed his face. He stopped beside her, examined the screen, then spoke flatly; his stare looked on as if he were seeing past her. It reminded her in an intimate way of herself at his age and her chest tightened.

“Hey sister I’ll bet you a thousand yen you can’t beat me at this one.”

“...Why?” She asked with her face knitting in confusion.

“‘Cuz you’re new blood here that’s all there is to it. You in?”

She stared him down critically sizing his appearance and shrugged. A thousand just once wouldn’t hurt on her birthday. A strange tingle in the back of her neck gave her premonition to keep caution on the backburner. Slowly she nodded and he registered as Player Two with the speed of familiarity. That detail made her stomach flip as if to steel herself against what was to come. There was however no time for regret as the screen changed.

“You can pick the song.” He said.

His borderline monotonous tone at this was another sign that made her regard him with suspicion. She chose something of medium level that would by her judgement confuse a child. No one ever said she had to play fair with money at stake, after-all. Today was a day she could afford a cheat. He said nothing though she swore she caught a smirk out the corner of her eye. 

They were thrown into the rhythm head first with a steady opener. Though she’d almost never played anything rhythmic extensively she nailed the first notes with a natural focus. That method had never failed her before, and she found little reason to doubt it now. In fact it inflated her confidence. When a short break appeared she grinned at the boy but his eyes were glued to the game. She heard the notes miss before she saw them, quickly recomposing herself. 

The notes ramped up speed and began to double layer. Her wrists burned in the struggle until at last they cleared. She groaned seeing the score tallied. The boy stuck out a hand, his expression largely blank.

“‘Fess up the cash I beat you fair and square.”

She made to reach for her wallet then stopped. 

“I’ll tell you what. Today’s my birthday so I’m feeling playful. Instead of paying you now how about you try beating me at every game here first?”

“Psh, no fuckin way. You’re just sore cuz you lost.”

His eyes widened just barely at his own words. He glanced away and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. It made her eye him with a curious look.

“Sorry I cursed. Still you totally lost and we never said anything about playing a bunch of stuff.”

“That’s true but how about this. Think of it as a game within a game. It looked to me like winning so easily made you bored. It’s not really winning if it doesn’t feel earned right?”

At last a look of surprise however faint brought life to him. She danced giddy in her thoughts; she’d guessed him right. The boy stood thoughtful in his silence. When he was ready to speak he no longer slouched and wore focused eyes. It was the most she’d seen from him since they’d played.

“You’re on.”

They carved a path marked by a few surprised onlookers through each new floor. They passed giddy onto each game in the manic focus children posses best. For every cluster he won at she’d break his streak by the next. She refrained from teasing at his losses. His eyes would narrow and his face scrunch severe; at times he sucked his teeth. In the heat of moments a barrage of curses would fly from his mouth; every outburst soon signed with an apology. 

Within the myriad labyrinth that comprised the arcade they lost time. It became a measurement felt only in their gradual tiring. The blur of their play quieted into a final contest at a shooting game. Neither said so out-loud however. When a noticeable crowd surrounded them her eyes widened. She looked to him and his expression was focused as ever. A low buzz of gossip circled around them from all directions.

“That’s him!”

“The Arcade King...”

“Didn’t he leave for that other place?”

“What’s he doing playing against a noob?”

She frowned and pressed harder on the trigger, aimed faster. The outside voices dimmed into white noise. Time passed like an abstract concept hinted at only by the increased sweat on their hands. Onscreen a zombie shambled towards her with grasping arms. One shot struck it clean through the head for an enthusiastic hundred point gain. Pride swelled her chest like an inflated balloon; she hissed a ‘Yes!’ through her teeth. More mounted up the pressure and for each she downed her grin grew. From the corner of her eye his effort intensified; head shots appeared in quick succession. 

Before she fully comprehended it the level faded into a clear screen. The information at a glance made her shoulders sag. She heard him sigh and felt an electricity through her when it was contented. The crowd gossiped a half minute longer then dispersed; she heard none of it. He reached out a fist in invitation and with a slow look down she bumped back. She watched him crack his first smile that carried innocence and when viewed beheld the innocence of seeing a rainbow for the first time. She sensed with painful clarity that indeed they had common ground. 

“Keep the money. That was the most fun I’ve had in a while. Mom usually can’t take me anywhere so I like hanging here alone. I normally come after school- if you’re ever around sometime we can play again.”

It was the most he’d spoken so that for a pause she stared incredulously. Without hesitation then she nodded. Her smile was easy, earnest.

“Sure. That’d be very nice.”

“See you around then, later.”

As abrupt and meandering as he’d first appeared he walked away. Soon he melded into the packed corridors. There was every chance they’d never meet again. She let that thought slip as her phone jingled. She smiled at the screen before leaving through the doors; her heart several degrees lighter. 

[katalyna-rose]

A Very Brief and Angry Joke Review

I came across an excerpt of a passage of “smut” that someone took screenshots of and then added a transcript. It’s from a book called Rough and Ready by Sandra Hill, and the post is here. It is horrifying. That is the mildest word. So I posted it in the Writing Tips channel of the Writers of Thedas discord saying how if you’re doing better than this you’re a star. A few people said they’d be interested to read a sarcastic and angry review/critique of it, so I promised to write one. Here it is! I am in so much pain after writing that... It has caused me physical agony. Enjoy!

Her long hair, still wet from the shower, had been combed down her back in a wet swath. [Already I can tell you have a weird fixation on the word "wet" but in the wrong context, so we're not off to a good start.] Hilda was sitting on the floor, her round, wet boobs still wet from the shower’s water. [Are you aware that water isn't sexy? It's just water. Also, has any woman ever sat on the floor immediately after getting out of the shower? No? Didn't think so. Especially since this passage indicates a cabin, meaning it's not likely to be entirely clean.] She dried off the water with a towel, which then became wet. [We GET IT. She's WET. That's ENOUGH.]

Hilda gasped when she saw a reflection in her bedroom mirror [If I were sitting naked on the floor, and WET, and someone came in I'd do a lot more than gasp, let me tell you.]: through the slightly open door, she caught a glimpse of the chiseled abs and square jaw of the mysterious stranger who shared her cabin. [Because no forced love story is complete without inexplicably sharing living space with strangers!] She stood and spun around, her breasts swinging heavily with the momentum. [Have you... Have you ever seen a woman? That's not... That's not how this works!] She grabbed the door and flung it open [Open?? She was just caught sitting naked on the floor right after a shower and she confronts the intruder?? Have you EVER met a woman in your life?], revealing shirtless Torolf [I'm sure this name counts as a fetish but I can't quite put my finger on what awkward and forced kink this technically is. Who has a name like this?] quivering with desire in the hallway. [He... He walked in on her sitting naked on the floor and that's somehow sexy? This WET chick who does inexplicable things after showering and has physics-defying tits is really just THAT sexy? Really? Are you sure?]

Torolf was ashamed at being caught, [Okay, so he was peeping on her? For how long? Did he just walk in or not? Make up your mind!] but his shame made him even hotter [Okay, sure, that's the first legitimate kink in this thing.] – hotter for sex. [I mean.. Uh... Why is this bit necessary? You... you don't have to hold our hands through the fact that these two are inexplicably going to bone. And the fact that you feel the need to clarify that might be an indicator that your writing is terrible.] He stepped into the room, and his bulging abs [His WHAT NOW?] accidentally [Are you sure?] smushed into Hilda’s rich chest. [I... What?]

As Hilda’s buttermilk bosoms [Her what now? Is this the strangest way to describe boobs I've ever read? No. But it ranks in the top five. What makes them buttermilk? Does he have a lactation fetish?] squished up against his granite abs [No.], Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm. [I want to look into the eyes of the editor who had this on their desk, read this phrase, and still let it get published. I want to gaze into their very soul and discover what is there. I am certain it will be a horrifying experience.]

“Hilda,” Torolf murmured thickly, [How is this accomplished? How do you murmur... thickly?] his throbbing meat wand [There's so much to choose from here... I think I'll just point out that you've used the word Dick but now you're afraid of Cock? Please. Please just call it his cock...] pressing against Hilda’s warm thighs [So... He's really short, then? I don't know about you, but it takes a guy at least six inches shorter than me to actually manage to press their COCK into my thighs. And listen. I'm 5'5" so that's not gonna happen.]. “There is a secret I need to not tell you [Could this sound any clunkier?]: You are my forbidden desire.” [Why? We don't even know what either of them looks like except for Chiseled Abs and Square Jaw and Buttermilk Bosoms. That's the entirety of what we've been given of their physical appearances. And if it's about personality... Neither of you has one!]

Hilda had been waiting to hear these words. [Why? Since when? Is this why she was sitting on the floor right after a shower? Was she pining after this blob of Chiseled Abs?] Her heart was lifted on golden wings and soared toward a radiant sun of perfect joy. [You haven't earned this pretentious poetry, sit down.] She saw herself and Torolf happy together, bathed in the golden light of love. [Oh, she's hallucinating now? Or has all of this been a hullucination? Maybe she's still sitting on the floor after a shower!] Her snooch got all warm, too. [Her WHAT NOW?]

“Torolf,” Hilda moaned, her lush teats straining with desire. [Have you ever once in your life seen or interacted with a pair of breasts? No? I didn't think so.] “I need you.” [Run, boy! She's crazy!] Torolf, coarse [I have questions.] abs pulsing softly in the moonlight [I have more questions], stood silently.

Hilda looked at him expectantly.

“Oh, sorry,” she added. “Torolf, I need you – sexually.” [Is he... Is he a robot? The longer this goes on the only explanation I can think of is that he's a robot and his AI is not fully developed. Is that what's going on here? Are they fake people who never fully figured out how to people?]

At hearing those beautiful [No!] words, Torolf flexed his rough-hewn abs [Your ab fetish deserves hospitalization.] and Hilda found herself being guided to her soft bed by the sheer force of Torolf’s undulating midsection. [His what?!] She parted her thighs in anticipation, [Is she even lying down yet?] exposing the soft pink petals of her clunge. [The what of her WHAT?]

Torolf entered her like she was a lottery. [Do you have any idea how female genitalia works? Foreplay exists for a reason. Also, what lottery involves the agony of attempting to have sex without sufficient lubrication? By the way, last we heard he was still wearing pants. What happened to them?] His engorged pecker [Please... I am in Pain...] pushed inside her and she felt fulfilled with sexual fulfillment. [I... I can't. You're just. You're terrible. This Hurts Me.]

Hilda clutched at the bedsheets with lust and ecstasy and her hands. [This would almost be funny if it was supposed to be a joke. But it's not and I want to cry.] Her spongy love mountains [Right, you just earned first place in the weirdest terms I've ever seen for tits. Go home, you should be ashamed.] hurled to and fro with each pounding. [How? Also, ouch! I can't even climb stairs without a bra and not have my boobs hurt but this sounds like agony. Is her chest just going to rip clean off her body? Please, I hope it does. I never want to think about Hilda's buttermilk bosoms ever again. Get rid of them.] Her body was like a beautiful flower that was opening [Have you ever once seen a woman? I don't think you have.] and somebody was pushing their dick inside it. [How, please tell me, HOW can you manage to make sex THIS unsexy? This isn't even a joke, it's just sad.]

Then Torolf moaned, arched his back, and suffered from dick Parkinson’s. [How on god's green earth did you come up with this term? How many revisions, edits, proofreads, and pairs of eyes did this term go through before searing into my eyeballs? How did any of this happen? There is no god or divinity in this universe or surely He/She/They would have protected Their children from this.] He pumped in all of his hot pearlescent [Do you know ANYTHING about anatomy at all?] sperms as Hilda spasmed with so many orgasms! [I have never seen more childish writing. And I've read half of My Immortal!]

The two lay still for a moment as the stinky scent of lovemaking billowed [Wow. Just wow.] around the room. Hilda got out of bed, still shimmering [People are not bioluminescent!] with orgasm. She glowed with contentment, like a cat who ate the cream of the crop. [You're mixing your metaphors and I'd like to point out that you are not the sharpest light bulb in the kitchen.]

She walked across the room and picked up her towel, still wet with shower water. [Your water fetish makes me want to gouge out my eyeballs.] “Torolf,” she said softly, “there’s something I have to tell you…” [Tell him you're just fever dream. Please let this be a fever dream.]

But her bed was empty. [Thank the gods.]

Torolf was gone, escaped out the bedroom window. [Why? Why wouldn't he just use the door?] In the distance, Hilda heard the fading sound of galloping abs. [HAVE YOU EVER ONCE SEEN A HUMAN BEING? JUST ONCE? HAVE YOU EVER IN YOUR LIFE MET A HUMAN? THAT'S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS.]

[In conclusion of this incredibly angry joke review/critique, I would like to say that I believe this was written by an alien who for some reason decided that writing smut was a good way to try to assimilate humanity. The entire editing team was mind controlled to allow this to pass through all the checks that a book has to go through to get published. There is no way a Real Human Being actually wrote this. I refuse to believe it. Now please excuse me while I wash my eyes with bleach and hope that this text will be washed away or at least dimmed....]

[beepbeep-losers]

boys and a bathroom

part 2: party

College au. Modern au. Stan and Eddie room together and are friends with Mike. Ben rooms with Mike and is dating Beverly, who is in an apartment with Richie and Bill. They’re sophomores.

part 1 // part 3 // part 4

now on AO3

Pairing: Stenbrough

Side pairings: Reddie and Benverly

Warning: alcohol, uhhhhhhh not much else tbh. Eddie is a flirty drunk, Stan and Bill both blush a lot.

Length: 2.1k words

Stan

Stanley Uris may have been just a little tipsy. He and Eddie had showed up giggling at Mike’s door, Eddie waving goodbye to their Uber driver (who, he said, had been “so fucking cute”). Stan was certain he’d be dragging Eddie off of someone later that night.

Now, Stan and Eddie were dancing in Mike’s living room. There were at least fifteen people in the apartment already, and Mike’s roommate hadn’t even arrived with his friends yet. When Mike popped up next to them with their drinks, Eddie was busy grinding into Stan and Stan was laughing at him.

“Here, guys,” Mike said, grabbing their attention. They cheered and took their drinks. “It’s punch – I made it myself.”

The drink was fruity and sweet and Stan hummed his appreciation at not being given beer or something equally gross. He left Eddie on the dance floor to follow Mike back into the kitchen.

“How much did you two drink before you came?” Mike asked.

Stan blushed a little. “A few shots a piece, and a strawberita each.”

“Eddie is already gone,” Mike commented, watching Eddie dancing happily to the upbeat music. “I watered down his punch a little.”

Stan tried to force the permanent grin being tipsy gave him from his face before asking, “Did you water mine down?”

Mike was shaking his head “no” when four people walked into the kitchen.

“Did I hear something about watering shit down?” one of them said loudly. He had thick-rimmed glasses and a mess of curly black hair. “Fuck is that about?”

“Ignore him,” another guy said. This one was blond with kind eyes and a pretty redheaded girl at his side. “That’s Richie.”

“The Trashmouth?” Mike asked knowingly. The other guy nodded and Richie gushed.

“Awe, Benny-boy, you talk about me!”

“You’re Ben!” Stan blurted. “Mike’s roommate.” Shit, he probably sounded tipsy as fuck. He blushed again.

“Yeah, I am,” Ben said, reaching out to shake Stan’s hand. “This is Bev, and that’s Bill.”

Ben motioned to the boy on his other side who had dark brown hair that seemed to have an almost red tint, gorgeous blue eyes, and full lips. And fuck, was he tall. Stan averted his gaze, embarrassed at his own thoughts. Fiddling with the cup in his hands, he smiled at him.

“I’m Stanley.”

Bill

Bill took a long sip of his drink, standing beside Mike at the edge of the living room and not-so-discreetly taking peeks at Stan as he danced with Eddie and Richie. Richie kept reaching out to touch Eddie’s waist and Eddie would grin at him slyly. He was usually pretty smooth. Bill was kind of the unspoken leader of their group. He was a pretty confident person, he had a good head on his shoulders. He didn’t know what it was about Stanley Uris that made him unable to speak. He could usually talk to guys that he was interested in so easily!

Bill snorted a little when Stanley made a playful gagging face at Richie touching Eddie once again.

“He’d normally fuss at him for that,” Mike chuckled. “Eddie, I mean.”

Bill jumped, a little embarrassed at having been caught watching them. “Y-yeah?”

“He’s not one for being touched by strangers, unless he’s been drinking.”

“Are he and Stan not together?” Bill asked, trying to sound casual.

Mike gave him a little grin. “Oh, no, Stan is single.”

Before Bill could respond, Ben and Beverly came up, Beverly grabbing for Bill.

“Billlllll! Take shots with me! I can’t pull Richie away from that boy he found and I want a drinking buddy,” Bev pouted.

“F-fine,” Bill laughed, and reached out to touch Mike’s shoulder. “You w-wanna come?”

“Sure, I’ve been holding back to check on everybody else but fuck that,” Mike said with a chuckle, following Bill and Bev to the counter separating the kitchen and the living room.

Disposable shot glasses were scattered along the counter, amid bottles of liquor that varied from white rum to whiskey to vodka.

Bill grabbed three shot glasses a bottle of gold tequila that he knew was Beverly’s favorite. “This okay with you, Mike?”

“Fine with me. Good taste,” Mike commented.

Bill grinned. “Bev’s favorite.”

“Tequila is the most effective liquor,” Bev interjected. Bill was pretty sure that she was trying to sound witty, but since she had an alcohol-induced grin, she mostly came off as tipsy.

“Beverly Marsh how dare you orchestrate a group shot without me, you wretched bitch!”

Richie Tozier popped up behind Bev, throwing an arm around her shoulders. He was using what Bill thought was supposed to be his Englishman accent.

“How dare you abandon me for some cute piece of ass, Richie Tozier!”

“Hey! Is she talking about me?”

Eddie and Stanley were suddenly there, filling in the circle that had formed, and Eddie had asked the question to Stanley while tugging on the curly-headed man’s sleeve.

“She most certainly is, Eddie-kins!” Richie cooed, releasing Beverly to pinch Eddie’s cheek. Eddie promptly swatted his hand away, face red but lips pulled into a smile.

“As cute as your incessant flirting has been, can I please get a shot so that I become numb to it? Otherwise I may gag,” Stanley deadpanned. Bill laughed loudly despite himself and everyone turned to him. He felt a blush rise to his cheeks and he turned quickly to get more shot glasses.

“R-r-ruh-right, so h-how many sh-sh-shots is that n-now?”

“Quite the stutter there, Billy boy, calm down,” Richie joked, narrowing his eyes at his friend’s back. He and Bev traded a glance.

“Six shots,” Mike said helpfully, and Bill gave him a grateful smile.

Bill poured seven shots, keeping one on the counter. He passed a shot out to everyone but Ben, and they clinked in the middle before downing their shots. While Eddie said something about how he wished there was lime, Bill grabbed the spare shot and took it quickly. He met Ben’s curious gaze as his hand came down.

“You cool?”

Bill nodded. “Absolutely.” He flicked his eyes over to Stanley, and Ben followed his gaze. When their eyes met again, Ben gave him an understanding nod. “Just a little nervous.”

“He’s cute,” Ben said with a little smile. “Be careful.”

Bill nodded and grabbed a cup so that he could get punch. He could feel his nerves tense every time he looked at Stanley, and he really needed it. He was determined to talk to him at some point in the night.

Stan

Stanley was having too much fun to notice much else. It didn’t even bother him much that Richie, the loudmouth friend of Ben’s, was constantly flirting with Eddie. Okay, he looked at Bill across the room a little. But that was neither here nor there. Stan was having a good time getting to know Ben and Beverly and Richie – getting to know being the usual drunken giggling and joking around. He had danced with Bev a few times, since Ben wasn’t too much of a dancer and Stanley assured him that he was very gay, so he shouldn’t worry. (Ben didn’t really need to be assured, as he didn’t mind Bev dancing with someone else if she wanted, but he thought it was funny that Stan was so concerned.)

The only one of Ben’s friends that he hadn’t talked to much was Bill, who had spent most of the evening chatting with Mike. Stan was trying to pretend like he wasn’t jealous at all about that. Bill was cute, and Stan had been hoping that maybe he would notice him. But Mike was handsome. Bill probably thought so too. It was understandable. Stanley was pretty small – kind of the opposite of Mike. Maybe Bill was into a Mike type more than a Stan type. Stan took a long drink of his punch thinking about it.

Several hours into the party, when everyone was objectively drunk (save the DDs present), Bill and Mike finally found their way to their friends, who were standing near the center of the room. Some of the other partygoers had started to leave, but only a few. Stan had gathered that they were some high school friends of Ben’s, and some classmates of both of theirs. Mike and Ben were also apparently in a club or two together.

Bill was very obviously drunk. Stan figured he was too. But Bill was such an excited drunk.

“Bev!” he exclaimed as he walked up to their group, Mike following closely behind. “Beverly!”

Bev spun and she grabbed Bill’s hands. “Bill! What’s up, dude?”

“I’ve had the b-b-best idea,” he said, slurring a little. His voice dropped to a whisper, and he spoke softly into Beverly’s ear. Stan’s interested piqued.

“Ohmygod, Bill! Amazing!” Bev squealed. “Let’s fuckin go! I have a needle in my purse.”

As Bev raced to her purse, Stan impulsively reached out to grab Bill’s arm. Bill spun toward him immediately, eyes bright. “H-hey. Stan.”

“What’re you and Beverly doing?” Stan asked, tilting his head to the side.

Beverly popped back up and she and Bill began to race off, but Bill tugged Stan along. “Come on, you’ll see!”

Stan laughed and followed as they raced into another room – Stan didn’t know what room it was – and closed the door behind them.

“Bev’s gonna give me a tattoo!” Bill exclaimed. He put his hands on Stan’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. Stan blushed. “Isn’t that fucking great?”

Stan was drunk, but he figured that Bev giving Bill a tattoo while they were both highly inebriated was not the best idea. He couldn’t find any words, though, while Bill was touching his shoulders, other than: “Oh.”

“C’mere, Bill,” Bev ushered, and Bill let go of Stan and started tugging his flannel off. Stan’s blush deepened and he held onto his cup more tightly, taking a sip.

The door swung open suddenly, and Ben flew into the room. “Bev! Bill! What the hell are you doing?”

“Honey!” Bev greeted happily, waving at him over Bill’s shoulder. Bill was throwing his flannel to the side, and grabbing to pull his shirt off. “I’m gonna give Bill a stick n’ poke!”

Ben’s eyes widened and he went over to Bev. “No no no no no, Bevvie. I love you. But not now, okay?”

Bev pouted and Ben started talking to her gently, carefully taking the sewing needle out of her hand. Bill, apparently distracted from his tattoo idea, came to Stan and grabbed his hand. “Hey, come here, Stan.”

Stan followed.

Before he knew it, Bill tugged him into the bathroom in the hallway and sat on the floor. Concerned, Stan put his cup on the counter and knelt in front of him. “Are you okay, Bill?”

Bill considered him.

“I want to kiss you.”

Stan was pretty sure he’d died. He felt his stomach in his toes. “You what?”

“Come here.”

And then Bill was reaching for him and Stan was letting him and oh fuck it, he may as well, I mean what was the harm, and Bill’s pretty blue eyes fluttered closed and –

Oh, his lips were soft. Stan felt a contented sigh escape him against Bill’s lips, and he slowly kissed back, leaning in closer to him. Bill’s hand cupped Stan’s jaw and Stan’s hand was on the wall beside Bill’s head and they kissed and Stan wasn’t sure how long it went on because everything was a little fuzzy around the edges, but when it stopped he was pretty sad it wasn’t still happening.

He and Bill looked at each other, lips a little puffy.

Stan realized that he had just drunkenly kissed a very attractive guy in the bathroom of his friend’s apartment, and a blush rose to his cheeks.

“You okay, Stan?” Bill asked gently. His hand dropped from Stan’s face and Stan missed the warmth.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Let’s go.”

Stan nodded and stood, then followed Bill out of the bathroom, feeling a little dazed. Bill walked casually toward the group they had left before, where Bev and Ben had returned. When Stan finally got there, Ben looked at him with concern.

“You and Bill were in the bathroom for a bit. You both okay? Not sick?”

Stan stared at Ben. He didn’t know if Bill wanted anyone to know. He didn’t know if it was just a stupid drunken thing. He didn’t know. So he swallowed, and nodded. “Mhm. We’re fine, Ben, thanks. Bill just needed a second.”

Ben smiled at him appreciatively. Stan slunk over to stand between Eddie and Bev, glancing at Bill as he went. Bill was looking at him already, and gave him a shy sort of smile.

Stan didn’t remember much after that.

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