#god I’m going to lose my mind in October

[miaiminnis]

and the old dalish curse means something new to me: take me as well, o fen’harel, like my hand and vallaslin 🐺🌿🌊

[no-144444]

FIC-TOBER

Hey everyone! I've decided to participate in the regualr kink-tober stuff (in my own way) :)

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I have a fic fr every day, I'll try and get them out at roughly the smae time but with work and school I'm a little busy so please be mindful of that and also enjoy! Some of these are requests, so thank you to the people that requested and please enjoy!

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October 1st: Making moves  Enemies to lovers -> Lando Norris x publicist  reader  Why did your client have to be such a pain in the ass? 

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October 2nd: The grid: Meet-cutes! 

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October 3rd: Brother’s teammate Brother’s teammate -> Jack Doohan x Gasly reader  It’s not your fault his new teammate is hot (smau)

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October 4th: Married man Private, but not secret -> Lewis Hamilton  Married? Maybe. But why does everyone else need to know? 

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October 5th: (smut): misguided mishaps One bed trope -> Lando Norris x Fewtrell reader  One bed… what could go wrong? 

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October 6th: Love and lies Fake relationship -> Alex Albon x reader “We don’t love each other, right?”

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October 7th: mi señora Everyone else ships you -> Franco Colapinto x Williams reader  “We’ve barely ever spoken!” “He’s in love with you!” 

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October 8th: Presenting y/n y/l/n! Our fav commentator Y/n Y/l/n! Tweets about our favourite F1 commentator!

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October 9th: Judgy McJudgy Pants or Osc? You decide! Things heating up between you and Judgy McJudgy pants...

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October 10th: Losing Battle Marriage of convenience -> Lance Stroll “Children?” “No way.”

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October 11th: Temptations (semi-smut 18+) Skinny dipping-> Max Verstappen god forbid a girl has hobbies tmz. 

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October 11th: Accidental injury Injury causer-> Logan Sargeant x engineer! reader “Watch where you’re going please?!” 

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October 12th: a story for a dinner party (smut 18+) Trapped in an elevator -> Liam Lawson x driver! reader “Don’t move!” “I’m not moving!”

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October 13th: Persistent Pestering Sworn off relationships and ‘I’m in love with you’ -> Charles LeClerc  Ferrari drivers are persistent. You’re not looking for love. Too bad he is. 

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October 14th:  The grid: wedding shenanigans! ୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

October 15th: smile, even though it’s breaking. Sunshine vs. Grumpy -> Daniel Riccarrdo x RB mechanic! reader “Do you even stop smiling?” “Only when you’re not around.”

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October 16th: Listening ears on Matchmaking gone wrong -> Zhou Guanyo x Bottas reader  How come when you try to set Zhou up, it always ends badly? (smau)

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October 17th: Admin looking for love! Secret pining -> Carlos Sainz x williams admin! reader  Why did Alex Albon feel the need to post you on his story as a ‘lonely woman looking for love’? And why did Carlos Sainz dm you after it? 

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October 18th: Creepy guy who isn't all that creepy Coffee mix up -> Ollie Bearman  Why does your cappuccino taste like shit? And why are you being followed by a random 6 foot man? 

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October 19th: Opposites attract, right? Forgetful-> George Russell  “Where’s my-” “Babe, stop leaving things lying around!” 

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October 20th: Happy accident! Accidentally married -> Max Verstappen  Good night, right? 

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October 21st: Stoic much? Secret baby -> Oscar Piastri  “You have a wife?” “You have a kid?!” 

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October 22nd: The grid: Time for a hot lap! 

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October 23rd: All grown up! Childhood crush -> Arthur Leclerc  “I had a crush on you as a kid.” “Same.” “What?!”

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October 24th: Breaking up (not making up) The one that got away -> Kimi Antonelli  “So we’re done?” “yeah.”

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October 25th: Wallflowers like flowers too Friends to lovers -> Oscar Piastri  “I got you some flowers.” “Why?” “Because they’re pretty, like you.”

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October 26th: Thoughtless love Best friends to lovers -> Paul Aron Being with him is just easy.

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October 27th:Lovers in denial Won't admit it-> Logan Sargeant  “I don’t like her!” “Exactly, you love her!” 

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October 28th: Was it casual? Scared to commit -> Lando Norris  Aren't we just casual?

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October 29th: The Grid: Late for a date!

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October 30th:  The Grid: confesses! 

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October 31st: Chancer Halloween party -> Oscar Piastri Can he figure out who you are at the masquerade ball before you leave forever?

[deesseshesca]

PAC : What’s your sexual power (18+)

My pantie stuck in my ASS...

Good evening pretty souls, let's find out where does your sexual power reside and what does it need ?

SALE 

Until October 31 all readings on my ko-fi is 30$, only

Choose the image that’s speak to you and allow yourself to soak ONLY what’s reasoning with YOUR SITUATION 

Rules and Disclaimer 

I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is sent with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else. 

MINOR DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS POST 

MINOR DON’T READ THIS POST 

Basing myself on the legal age in my country which is 18

PILE 1 

Devil, 6 pentacles, 8 swords,10 swords, ''I want a second chance not being with you is killing me'', ''I have abandonment issue ! I grew up in a single parent household ! I had a rough childhood ! ''

Check in : You have an disorganized attachment style. 

Golden cooch/Golden tip

Women :  The way that you give head is very out of the box. Like you have your own little routine. Your own little reputation. You play with balls and you don’t mind a hairy private area. You don’t even mind playing with your partner anus if that really makes them lose it. If you are into women, you love lapping on that clit like your life depends on it while giving innocent eyes to your partner.  

Men: You love it when it is hairy. You also enjoy when the sex smells like it has none of the chemical smelling vanilla. I’m hearing saying: ‘’ Get that shit out of here…’’ You also don’t mind using toys especially if that helps your partner climax it does not make you feel less than. You may even have a great knowledge concerning dildos. If you are into men, you are down with anything handjob to pegging. 

Both: You guys enjoy a balanced sexual relationship. Is important for you that your partner reaches their climax but it is also necessary for you to see the stars at least one time. The issue is that you cheat on yourself. You might give your partner 8 orgasms hoping is good enough for them to at least touch you down there. First, sex  should never be calculated. It should be reciprocated. Don’t give because you need but because you want. You need to find a partner as generous as you. Only generous people deserve that much pleasure. Also y’all love to use sex as a way to get your lick back. You don’t mind your person cheating on you because it is an open door for you. That back and forth is going to keep going until somebody (usually them) realizes they are getting play 2. 

💌 : You can book a reading with me. I send the product in less than 48h and here are some reviews.

PILE 2 

King cups (reverse), queen cups, Knight pentacles, 8 wands (reverse) 

Stud 4 life

Women : You hate the breeding kink. Not because you don’t find it sexy or you are not attracted to it. Just because you hate the idea of falling pregnant. Y’all may still use the pulling out method. Y’all super power is how loving you are in a sexual setting. You love kissing your partner's thighs, kissing their chest, sucking on tits (yes… even when it is a man). You love leaving tender touches and caresses. A lot of men/women fall in love with you , but you really don’t want any commitment at the moment. Is not your fault that you know how to make love and heal with your touch. Why must they cage you with all the love you have to share? 

Men: Sneaky… you don’t like pulling out. You love nutting in the hole and see the hole dripping with your cum. Is a kink for u but you can’t imagine possibly being a dad. That’s a dangerous game, pile number 2, luck can only be by your side for so long. You hate it when your partner screams another name but yours, even God. You don’t want to hear nothing but your name. You might work extra hard just to hear your name being repeated over and over again. Your superpower is that of your kind. You love going quick and hard but when the fun is over you take care of the person. Aftercare is a must. You will clean them up. No cuddle but you will make sure they get home safely. Unfortunately you deny your true feelings often. Y’all may be very attractive and you think people are only with you for the looks and the dick. Thus is not false you also don’t choose the one that will be there for your heart. The one for your heart you keep at distance. There’s girl/boy you fucked and liked but you prefer keeping them close that way than being vulnerable. 

Both: Y’all body, mind and soul is begging for a break. No more sex please. At this point the distraction don’t even fucking work no more. There’s just too much going on to bust a nut. 

💌: Y'all need to start focusing in y'all career. There's a beautiful love story waiting for you at your future job. If you need any guidance's on finding your way back on track, you can always book a reading. I send the product in less that 48h. Here are some reviews.

PILE 3 

Blue balls/ Heavy tits

9 pentacles, 8 pentacles (reverse), Judgement, 3 pentacles 

Both: Y’all can afford to reopen the door. A lot of y'all haven’t seen a dick/clit in over a year. Give it up cold turkey to focus on your career or schooling. You  now have a job , you master boundaries and did the healing. Now it is tiiiiime. You have the power of knowing. You can sense all the sexual clues from your partner from just a look. You know when someone is nervous, you know when someone prefers closing  the light, you know it all. Give it a couple sexy dates, y’all can even guess their kinks. You make the sexual act passionate, intense and smooth. A real dream came true. Contrary the same way you create a safe place with your partner. The same way you should allow yourself in that space. A lot of y’all keep your dark desire to yourself. Forcing yourself to never reach the deep desiring climax sleeping in you. Y’all want a threesome. Don’t matter 2 women, a man or 2 men with a woman, you want to be three in that bed. Some of y’all want to experience a foursome with your bestie. I just heard ‘’ No homo’’ LOOOL. In the sense that … LOL. You want your bestie and you to be fucking on 2 other bestie in the same room. Y’all pushing the concept of sharing is caring.

💌 : Y'all need to stop trying to get in bed with vampire. Y'all want to help so bad people around you that you don't mind hating the experience as long as you the other person is safe. Also, CONGRATS babes. Y'all are sober and got your life back. If you want to know about the other blessings that life as for you, you can book a reading with me. I send the product in less than 48h and here are some reviews.

[girlactionfigure]

Enemies With Keffiyehs and the Enemies Without

URI KURLIANCHIK

“The enemy is anybody who's going to get you killed, no matter which side he's on.”

—Joseph Heller, Catch-22

In times of war and strife, it’s important not to lose track of the difference between enemies and opponents. 

An opponent is a person with whom you share a goal but disagree on the methods. For example, I don’t consider Biden or the Labour party in Israel to be my enemies. I think they’re very wrong about their methods on how to achieve victory and peace, dangerously wrong even, but I don’t think they actively wish to harm me. They’ve analyzed the situation poorly, reached the wrong conclusions, and came up with a bad solution. Is this dangerous? Oh yes! Is it hostile? No. 

Surely, no one will doubt the patriotism of the current head of the Labour party, Yair Golan, who was among the first to charge into the Gaza Envelope on October 7, driving a civilian car, to save lives. He just doesn’t understand the psychology of the enemy so he makes poor political decisions. I’ll act within the best of my ability and within the limits of the law and civil decency to make sure he doesn’t get any official positions, but I certainly don’t wish him any harm.

An enemy is someone who wants to destroy you. It can be someone hiding in the ruins with a rocket launcher, or someone manipulating global media against from a fancy office in a skyscraper. It makes no difference.

Obviously a Hezbollah militant is an enemy. Greta Thunberg or Ilhan Omar are also enemies. Their objective is my destruction and I see no reason to treat the Nordic advertisement against drinking during pregnancy any differently than I would the bronze age barbarian hiding in a cave with murder in his heart. 

Both literally want to kill me.

They say all is fair in love and war. This is a battle for survival. You owe the enemy no civility, no fairness, no understanding, no compassion. 

This is something that people must understand: when we reach this level of hostility, this is no longer a debate. This is war. Any person who talks about “decolonizing Palestine” or “dismantling Israel” wants to murder you.

The only thing you owe your enemy is defeat.

Not in a million years would I condone violence against Kamala Harris, whom I consider a poor politician. I explained to people why I believe that voting for her would be a mistake but that’s the extent of the actions I’d condone “against” her. I’m happy that she lost the election because I think this is in the best interest of basically the entire human race, herself included. Whenever engaging her supporters online, I always strove to act with civility and debate in good faith. We all want America and Israel to be prosperous and successful, we just disagree on how to achieve this.

Enemies, on the other hand… Well, let me tell you a story. 

Julius Streicher was was the founder and publisher of the violently racist newspaper Der Stürmer. Imagine if Nick Fuentes and Jackson Hinkle had a baby (I apologize for that image) in a world with no community guidelines.

Julius was such an extremist that he was condemned by other Nazis. 

That’s right. That guy was too racist and hateful for the god damn Nazis. This, along with his generally disgusting behavior, resulted in him losing all party offices by 1940. 

He spent the rest of the war as a very rich and very hateful publisher.

In 1945, Streicher was captured in Austria by a group of American officers. Streicher was not a member of the military and did not take part in the planning of the Holocaust or the invasion of other nations. Nevertheless, he was sentenced to death. 

Why? Because he was an asshole.

Okay, it’s not something you can put in an official paper. Here’s a quote from the actual judgement:

“For his 25 years of speaking, writing and preaching hatred of the Jews, Streicher was widely known as 'Jew-Baiter Number One.' In his speeches and articles, week after week, month after month, he infected the German mind with the virus of anti-Semitism… Streicher's incitement to murder and extermination at the time when Jews in the East were being killed under the most horrible conditions clearly constitutes persecution on political and racial grounds.”

I’m sure you can think of one or two people in the West to whom this description would apply perfectly.

After October 7, these people cannot claim ignorance of the genocidal intentions of Iran and her proxies. This was probably the best-documented genocidal massacre in human history. 

There’s no way Spanish Prime Minster Pedro Sánchez didn’t know Israel was being bombed by five countries when he tried to block weapon shipments to Israel. None of the groups bombing Israel ever hid their genocidal intentions towards the Israeli people. Nevertheless, he did it. 

He’s an enemy.

The objective of these people is the destruction of the Israeli people. They’re not naively trying to achieve peace using the wrong methods. They’re not just trying to stop the war because they love humanity. No adult is that ignorant.

They want Jewish blood and lots of it.

Their goal is the same as Stericher’s, only they’re more careful with their words. In no small part because of what happened to Streicher, whose genocidal rants made him very rich but ultimately bought him the noose.

So keep this in mind. We have opponents and we have enemies. 

Don’t confuse the two and act accordingly.

[originalfatfiction]

Mason's Gain

Mason Megalos had been my best friend for over a decade when everything fell apart. I still hadn’t gotten over how suddenly we went our separate ways. Like many sexually confused adolescents, I had fallen in love with my best friend. We were both boys, and I had come to realize my love for him was one of the worst things that could have ever happened. I heard how other guys talked. I knew that liking Mason wasn’t something I could act on. 

We’d been about a month into our freshman year when I felt him slipping away from me. He had joined the football team and started hanging out with a bunch of his misogynistic, homophobic, and slightly racist teammates. Most people would say these guys were harmless, but I knew that the longer Mason hung around them, the more influence they’d have over his ideologies. He was being brainwashed! I had to win him back over from the dark side.  

Mason wasn’t a hateful person, and I was determined to come out to him before it was too late. I trusted him more than anybody in the whole world; I genuinely believed with every fiber of my being that we’d be able to work through my teeny-tiny crush on him (okay, so maybe it wasn’t the teeniest or the tiniest, and I was a hundred percent head-over-heels in love with him, but I digress). I figured he’d reject me amiably and we could continue our friendship, but unforeseen circumstances had prohibited my confession indefinitely. 

We’d been at my house. I had been avoiding coming out to him, as there was always something stopping me. The reasons were always stupid, like the fact there was an X-Men movie marathon coming on TV and we just had to watch it together. Like many high school aged boys, Mason sometimes referred to stuff as gay, in reference to things he considered stupid or slightly feminine. It had gotten way worse since he’d been hanging around his new friends. At one point he said it about some commercial on the TV. I felt that anxious feeling I often got, but this time I didn’t let it stop me. 

 “Mason, I’m gay,” I’d told him. I blurted it out, really. It wasn’t my finest moment; it wasn’t what I’d practiced a million times in the bathroom mirror. 

He looked at me for a while, assessing me, and then he got up and left. With no words of encouragement or disapproval. 

October 11, 2008 would forever be ingrained in my mind as the day Mason walked out of my life and never looked back. I’d really thought he was different. I’d really thought that I could tell him about my authentic self. I had never even got to mention the fact that I had a crush on him, which was probably for the best. 

He hadn’t been the person I thought he was.  

If losing Mason as a friend wasn’t bad enough, I was now still dealing with the repercussions of coming out. It had been three years since then.

Yes, three years of Mason’s new friend group taking every possible opportunity to terrorize me for being gay. They’d beat me up from time to time, throw slurs at me, or make homophobic jokes knowing there was nothing I could do or say to stop them. I didn’t want to make excuses for Mason, because the fact he had been such a terrible friend was inexcusable, but he never directly harassed me like his underlings; he just sort of had dominion over them, which was slightly less awful. Seriously, I think it was worth something that he never beat me up or said anything mean to me (at least not to my face). It was easier to handle his passive attitude in regard to my situation.

Those dumb jocks and future gas station attendants all looked to Mason for approval. He’d become their God—the coolest, the most handsome, the almighty. I bet if he stood up for me at least once, my days at school would go a lot smoother. I hated myself for it, but I just couldn’t let go of my idealized version of him. I told myself he didn’t mean what he did or said. I told myself that there was still good in him. Even though it killed me to hear him laugh when his friends called me a fag or a homo, I believed Mason didn’t really think I was disgusting.

I still thought he was attractive. It wasn’t like I was blind. We might not have been best friends anymore, but I lusted after him just the same as I had before. Mason had an olive complexion and it always seemed like he was glowing, like he was an angel or something. Mason’s parents were Greek, having moved to America before he was born. He had this curly brown hair that he took excellent care of now that he was older (when we were younger it was always messy). His eyes were green. His lips were full. He had the most beautiful smile. It was almost the most attractive thing about him.

The most attractive thing about Mason was his butt. He had the best ass I’d ever seen. It’s what I always looked at when I could take a clandestine glance. I had looked at his butt so frequently, I could probably pick it out of a police lineup.

“Yes Officer,” I’d say. “Butt number three is Mason’s. The sheer size of the cheeks makes it obvious, and the dimples on his lower back are also a dead giveaway.”

 He was taller than me, and he definitely had to be over six feet by now. I was 5’9” and weighed only about 160 pounds. Mason on the other hand had really buffed up in our years distanced from one another; I would have to guess he was around 200 pounds. He’d been a pudgy kid, but when he joined the football team freshman year, they worked all of his extra weight into muscle. Seeing him change so much really stung, not having gotten the chance to change along with him.

I had to continuously remind myself that none of these things mattered anymore. He could be extraordinarily hot with the best ass in the entire country, but that didn’t change the fact that he hated me for something I couldn’t control. He abandoned a valuable friendship and allowed others to belittle me. My mom had told me growing up, in a somewhat blunt way I’d grown used to, “Not everybody is your friend. Sometimes people can surprise you in the worst ways possible.” I never, and I mean never, thought my mother’s pessimistic wisdom would apply to my relationship with Mason.

We were about two months into senior year, and today in English IV, the last class of the day, I noticed Mason talking to a troll named Bret Phelps. This guy was possibly the worst of the group. The others just called me names, having grown tired of wasting energy beating me up, but he felt compelled to hunt me down and physically assault me every other day. I made my way to my locker as quickly as I could and made a mad dash for my bike. 

Today I was going to make it.

I was trying to be positive, which wasn’t always easy. It was a quality I admired in others, so I tried my best to emulate that positivity. I was determined to hold my head up high and to be optimistic. I knew things would one day get better, even if I had to put up with Mason’s posse until graduation. 

Today I wasn’t going to get punched anywhere on my body.  

 I approached the bike rack quickly, wanting to make it off campus unscathed. The closer I got to where the bikes were housed, the more noticeable was the form of a guy leaning casually on an adjoining pillar.

It was Bret. Damn.

He had to have forgone stopping at his locker. He’d come directly here after the bell rang to wait for me. He must have really been in a sour mood if he wanted to catch me so badly.

I had to be strong. Even if I wanted to whine and cry and beg for him to leave me alone, I couldn’t. I refused to give him or any of his asshole friends the satisfaction of breaking me down. I was immune to this. I just had to accept my beating and he’d move on. At first, I fought hard every single time, but he’d still pummel me. That was when I came to realize that if I didn’t show emotion, he’d give me a swift punch in the gut and go about his day. I wasn’t going to give the sadist the pleasure he oh so desired. It wasn’t fun fighting someone who didn’t react. 

“Hello Oliver,” he said, smiling. His front tooth was slightly chipped, and I hoped it was from someone punching him in the mouth. “You were like the first one out of class. I hope you didn’t think you were going to miss me today.” He was shorter than Mason but taller than I was. He was a stocky guy, and if I didn’t hate him so much, I’d be willing to admit that he was almost-maybe-possibly attractive.

 “Hey Bret,” I said in an even tone, keeping my head down, not making eye contact. “I really have to get going.” 

“This isn’t going to take long.” 

He walked towards me. I closed my eyes and tensed my ab muscles waiting for him to sock me in the stomach.

“I’ll handle him today.”

It was Mason’s voice. I opened my eyes slowly, letting out a deep breath and relaxing my abs. Was he going to start beating me up too? I didn’t think I could handle it if he decided he was so disgusted by me that he had to resort to physical violence.

 “Yeah, okay Mason,” Bret said, reverting to his beta-male status. “You’ve got to make sure you get him in the gut, just like he likes it.” With that, Bret walked off, glad to be told what to do—but not before punching me in the arm as hard as he could.

“Thanks,” I said, rubbing my arm as I made my way over to my bike. I kneeled down and began putting in the combo for my bike lock.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, like he’d done me the biggest favor. 

I looked up at him from the ground, and he looked like a giant. I felt really nostalgic looking up at him. Mason used to fight people for saying that I was gay. He used to defend my honor like I was a high society lady in a Victorian romance novel. But that didn’t matter anymore. He was a regular human being who made stupid human being decisions. I had to stop romanticizing the present with memories of the past.

I stayed silent. I didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. Why was he still standing there? I wanted him to leave so I wouldn’t have to feel so on edge.

“You want a ride home?” he asked.

Was he being for real? He only ever talked to me in class, and that was if it was mandated by the teacher. Now he was offering me a ride home? I wanted to say something biting and sarcastic, but nothing good would come from it. That wasn’t who I was or who I wanted to be. I did my best to push through the bitter feelings.

“No,” I said, my voice flatter than I meant it to be. I didn’t want to sound upset or anything, but I was struggling to temper out my emotions. “I have my bike.” 

This was the first time in a long time I was alone with him. It made me think of that day in October three years ago when everything changed. I hated how this was forcing me to recollect our final moments together as best friends.

“We can put it in the back,” he said matter-of-factly. I knew he was talking about his Jeep, but I still pictured his ass.

I was silent again, and he just smiled at me, like he knew I was going to accept his offer. This was how things had been in elementary school, middle school. He’d always been able to charm me into doing whatever he wanted. Even now as he began to saunter off, expecting me to follow, I couldn’t stop myself from bending to his will.

“Let’s go,” he said, jerking his head slightly in the direction of the student parking lot.

“Yeah okay, sure,” I mumbled, internally berating myself for being so easily swayed by him.

I followed him over to his Jeep. It was an older model, some of the burgundy paint peeling off. The inside smelled like he did; I took multiple deep breaths. He still remembered how to get to my house. The trip was for the most part silent, which gave me time to run scenarios, and they all ended badly, with some terrible prank that would awaken my latent telekinetic powers akin to my homegirl Carrie White. 

“Casa de Bailey.” 

I felt myself jump slightly, having been lost in my Stephen King fantasies.  

“Thanks,” I said, hopping out of the passenger’s side. 

I put my bag on and walked towards the rear of the Jeep. I didn’t think he’d get out of the car, but he met me at the back and removed my bike for me. As he set it down on the pavement, I took in how strong his arms looked and how the sleeves of his t-shirt were being eaten by their size. He had biceps. He had triceps. If there were any other muscles in the upper arm, he had those too. 

“Can I ask you something?” What could he want to ask me? He’d probably request that I transfer schools so he wouldn’t have to look at his loser ex-best friend anymore. 

“Sure,” I said, my voice cracking slightly, not knowing where this was going and not really wanting to find out. “You can come inside.” I started around back to put away my bike; he followed. I put my bike in the garage and unlocked the back door. I walked up the three steps into the kitchen and offered him something to drink.

“Milk, if you have it.” I poured him a large glass and he began to gulp it down. He was so white, drinking milk like it was actually good. I used to give him such a hard time about it. “Thanks,” he said, wiping away a milk mustache with his forearm.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” I was curious, seeing as we hadn’t really spoken in years. 

“Oh yeah,” he said. I took in his thick eyebrows, which were furrowed in seriousness. I wanted to stroke his brows with my fingers, to feel his face in my hands. I bet his skin was soft. He frowned and it made me a little worried. 

“What?” I asked. “You’re okay, aren’t you?” I still cared about him and his well-being. Maybe it was idiotic of me to still be so devoted to a person that ignored my sufferings, and maybe I should have ignored Mason in return, but my gut instinct was to be concerned.

“Here’s the thing,” he started, “I’m kind of failing English and I was wondering if you could help me out. Bret and the other guys are barely passing, and you’re so smart, I figured you’d be the best person to tutor me.” He paused for a moment, glancing at me. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

“That I’m helping you or that you’re failing English?” I asked, to clarify. 

“Both,” he blurted out quickly. 

We stood in an awkward silence. I felt my face go hot and was slightly embarrassed. He didn’t want people to know he was even interacting with me. It was kind of degrading, and I needed to have some self-worth and tell him that I had more value than that. That was what I should’ve done, but I was weak, and he was hot.

“Okay,” I said like a dope. I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll help you out.”

“Thanks dude,” he said, a sound of relief in his voice. “You good to meet here after school?”

“Yeah, like what, Tuesdays and Thursdays?” 

“Nah, every day. At least until I get my grade up. My parents lost their shit when they got my progress report.” Every day? That was going to take up a lot of time, and I may not have had much else to do, but I couldn’t believe he just imposed his own tutoring schedule on me. 

“Yeah,” I said, even more like a dope. “No problem.”

“Well, I have to go,” he said suddenly. I turned to get the milk, ready to offer him another glass of moo juice, but he was gone out of the back door before I could get the words out.  

“See you later,” I said aloud to myself, putting the milk back in the fridge. 

If I put my self-respect and righteous anger aside, this was fantastic. I’d get to talk to Mason every day. I’d get to look at his gorgeous face and body every day. I’d get to imagine, even though it was ridiculous, that we were still best friends. He had come to me for help. That just proved that there was still a connection between us. Maybe, in his own odd way, Mason was trying to rekindle our friendship.

I had noticed in the previous weeks that he looked bigger than usual. I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but being able to look at him without having to avert my eyes confirmed it. 

He was growing. 

I’d heard he quit the football team. Everyone had heard he’d quit the team. It was the hottest gossip for the entire first month of school. I knew he still exercised, having heard him mention to Bret he worked out with his uncle every night, trying to get into powerlifting. I didn’t know what that entailed, but it sure sounded like something I wanted to see. I was getting an erection just thinking about Mason possibly getting a bit of a belly to go along with the sheer size he was already putting on. 

I realized I’d been keeping tabs on him without really meaning to. If his name was brought up, I listened. I was still invested in his life, and this new arrangement was going to potentially put me in a dangerous situation.

The fact he’d be coming over again tomorrow got me feeling nervous. I didn’t want things to feel awkward. I wanted to do something nice for him to show I wasn’t holding a grudge or anything (even if I was still a little pissed at him). All hadn’t been forgiven, but maybe this was the start to an important conversation. 

I decided to go shopping for some snacks. He’d always been a big eater, and he’d probably need some brain food if we were to be studying. He liked potato chips and submarine sandwiches.

(“You gotta really pack on the ingredients,” he’d told me when we were younger. “I’m talking about a ridiculous amount of meat and cheese. Oil, mayo, mustard, pickles, lettuce, tomatoes.”  

I stared in astonishment at the monstrous sandwich he had constructed. It looked big enough to feed three people. This was a sandwich Scooby and Shaggy would excitedly devour. 

“You really think you can eat all of that?” I asked.

“You don’t think I can Oli?” he asked, smirking. 

“I think you can. You can do anything!”

“That’s right,” he said. “You wanna watch demolish this thing?” 

“Yeah,” I said, feeling oddly attracted to him in that moment. It was a moment that definitely raised a red flag for me. Why had I been so invested in his display of gluttony?

He finished that entire sub and a bag of family sized chips. His dad came home after a long day of work looking for the ingredients to make himself a sandwich. “Where’s the deli meat?” Mr. Megalos asked in his Greek accent.

“I ate it all, Dad,” Mason replied, not even embarrassed. Mr. Megalos playfully smacked Mason on the back of the head before sending us to the store to buy some more turkey breast. Mason used the change to buy us a package of oatmeal cream pies. Before I even got the chance to have a second one, he’d eaten the rest of them on our walk home. 

I was glad that he did.)

The next day at school I really wanted to talk to Mason, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I waited the day out and went to get my bike. Mason, not Bret, was leaning on the pillar near the bike rack.

“Hello,” I said, a little bit uneasy. He probably didn’t want my help anymore. He probably realized he could find someone else to tutor him. 

“What’s up, Oli?” he asked, smiling like everything was normal between us. Nobody called me Oli anymore. Just hearing him say my name with a smile on his face was enough to give me the vapors. I felt like flinging myself into his muscled arms, swooning.

“Nothing much.” I smiled back at him nervously. “I’m still meeting you at my house, right?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He looked at me seriously. My heart must have skipped a beat. “I told Bret to back off. If he fucks with you again, just let me know. Got it?” 

 “Ye—yeah,” I stammered. “Thanks a lot.” He was so hot when he was serious. He furrowed his brow in a way that made him look slightly angry. I bet he’d make a similar face while having sex.

“See you soon,” he said, swaggering off towards where his car was parked. I took in his wide back and beefy behind. He didn’t even carry a bookbag; he just had a folder, a couple of notebooks, and the novel we were reading in class. This was probably why he was failing.   

I unlocked my bike, mounted it, and rode off towards home. Relief swept over me at the thought of being Bret-free. I continued to pedal and felt myself come alive. I loved riding my bike; I was pretty fit because of it, with muscular thighs and a firm, round ass. My ass was definitely a first runner up to Mason’s glorious cakes. It was nearing the end of October and when it started to snow, I would have to swap my tires for better traction. I thought about Mason on the ride home and what I wanted to do to him. I hated wanting him so badly, but I loved it at the same time. Crushes were so weird that way. It was starting to consume me, yet I didn’t really mind it.  

He was sitting on the front steps when I got there.

“Oli,” he said, standing to meet me at the path to the backyard. He had his hand in his shirt, scratching his tummy. He moved his hand away. “Why don’t you have a car?” His voice was getting to me. I missed hearing his voice more than I realized.

“I can’t afford a nice Jeep like you,” I said a little sarcastically. He laughed, catching my slight insult to the Jeep that had once belonged to Mr. Megalos. It was given to Mason for his birthday last year. I remembered Mr. Megalos driving us to elementary school in that thing, so to see Mason driving it now was kind of funny. “You know it’s just me and my mom.”

“You could get a job,” he suggested. “There are lots of cheap cars. I’d help you look for one.” Mason had always liked cars and that sort of thing. His dad and Uncle Galvin owned an auto shop that Mason helped out in. Galvin was the same uncle he’d been working out with.

“I live like eight blocks from the school and I never go anywhere,” I said, feeling more at ease the longer we were around one another. “But if I ever do start looking for a car, I’d hope the offer would still stand.”

“Of course,” he said. “Consider it payment for your services.” I had put my bike away during our conversation. I opened the back door, and we went inside. 

“You can go up to my room,” I said. He knew the way.

I walked over to the fridge and looked at the array of supplies I’d picked up yesterday. I’d gone overboard for sure, but I removed the ingredients and placed them on the counter. I bought provolone cheese, turkey breast, and honey roasted ham. I’d even gone so far as to buy hoagie rolls and herb-seasoned submarine oil. I stuffed those hoagie rolls full of meat and cheese and veggies, just like I knew he liked his sandwiches—at least I knew he liked them this way years ago. I cut them in half and placed them on a plate, pouring some original flavored Ruffles in a bowl. I also put half a sleeve of Oreos on a separate plate and poured two glasses of milk. 

I carried the tray carefully as I made my way up the stairs to my room. Entering, I saw he was sitting at my desk, holding a photo of us at the beach when we were in the seventh grade. I walked over to him and set the tray down next to him on my desk.

“You still have this?” he asked, smiling. I looked over at the picture in his hand. His arm was around my shoulder and we both smiled wide at the camera. He had always been taller than I was, and this was before he lost his baby fat.

“Yeah,” I said shakily. I felt lame all of a sudden, still holding on to something he probably considered a piece of junk. “Could you please put it down?” 

The frame was even more special than the photograph; Mason had made it for me, painting the phrase “Best Buds” in big, sloppy letters on the bottom, seashells and starfish glued all around the rest of the frame. He had burned his fingers so badly using the hot glue gun he wore bandages for a week. I remember how proud he was of his craftsmanship.

“Sorry,” he said, laughing. He carefully put the picture frame back in its place before picking up a cookie, popping the whole thing in his mouth. “I didn’t mean to make you all tense.” 

“I’m not tense,” I said, sounding incredibly tense. He chewed, smirking slightly. I needed to get a grip. I was going to ruin everything if I didn’t chill out. I took a deep breath. “I thought a small snack would help you focus better.”

“This is a small snack?” he asked.

“I just—I remembered you had a big appetite.”

“You remembered right,” he said, reaching for one of the sandwich halves and taking a colossal bite. I felt even more embarrassed. Did he remember anything about me? Did he ever think about me at all?

“Yeah.” I sighed.

“You know Oli,” he started, his mouth half full. “I never stopped eating big, but I’ve definitely kicked it into overdrive since quitting football. If I don’t slow down, I’m gonna get fat again like in that photo.” His free hand absent-mindedly rubbed his stomach. It was like he was toying with me. He took another large bite of the sandwich. “I already eat like garbage, but I started a bulking cycle recently, really pushing myself to put on some mass. I think I’ve already put on ten pounds.” Ten pounds was kind of a lot, seeing as he had quit the football team only a little over a month ago.

“You—you carry the weight well,” I said, aroused. “You don’t look fat to me.” He had finished his first half and grabbed another.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, grabbing his slightly protruding paunch and shaking the small bit of belly he was sporting. “I eat way too much Oli.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” I said, trying not to discourage a habit I wanted him to continue.

“Get this, I ordered two large pizzas from Domino’s the other weekend and finished both of them. It was one of those deals where you save a ton of money if you get the two larges. I’m a sucker for deals like that.”

“Who isn’t?” I asked, watching him alternate between bites of the sandwich and the potato chips.

“When I got to the last slice, I was pissed. I wasn’t even full.”

“Wow Mason,” I said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. “When you put it like that, it does sound like a lot.”

“I was lucky my mom had made two trays of pastitsio the night before.” He lifted his shirt and showed me his belly, feeling the need to prove to me that he was indeed packing on the pounds. He was kind of hairy, and I liked it. He grabbed at his tummy with his strong hands, shaking it again, uncovered. I just wanted to feel his stomach in my own hands. I needed to know what it felt like. “This gut is brought to you by pastitsio, pizza, and protein shakes.”

He left his shirt up as he reached for another portion of the sandwich. I watched from my bed with my legs closed tight, as he bit, chewed, and swallowed, repeating the process until he moved on to the next serving. His large hands made those hefty sandwiches look like dainty finger food at a garden party. He pulled at his t-shirt, covering himself.

“You don’t wanna see that,” he said, laughing, his cheeks reddening slightly. He grabbed a handful of the salty chips and shoved them into his mouth. I imagined his hands grabbing a handful of my ass.

I didn’t know how I was going to be able to get through these tutoring sessions. He was pornographic. I was rock hard, my dick straining against my jeans. I was hoping I’d soften up enough before I had to stand. He kept going and going until he was chugging the glasses of milk. Only a couple of cookies remained on the plate.

“How—uh, how much do you weigh?” I asked.

“I don’t really know. You got a scale?”

“Yeah, it’s in the bathroom,” I said, affirming that I had one.

“Let’s do this,” he said, standing. I wiggled a little before getting up, making sure to minimize the obviousness of the boner in my pants. When I was out of sight, I took the time to tuck my penis into the waistband of my underwear, so it was angled upwards, and the front of my pants was flat. I brought the scale from my bathroom, praying he hadn’t noticed I was still semi-erect.

“How much did you weigh?” I asked.

“207 pounds at the pre-season weigh-in back in August,” he said, walking towards where I placed the scale in the middle of my bedroom. I sat on my knees near where the number would be displayed. He stepped on the scale and I glanced at the reading. “What’s the damage?” he asked, standing perfectly still.

“Well, um—that’s something.”

“How much?”

“Maybe this thing is busted, but it says you weigh 226 pounds.” My dick throbbed as I said it. What was so hot about Mason putting on weight like this? It wasn’t just muscle that turned me on, but also fat. I hoped his bulking cycle never ended.

“Shit,” he said, his tone surprised yet slightly satisfied. “I’m gonna be huge if I don’t start slowing down with all this eating.” I swallowed, hard.

I couldn’t help him study today. I’d get better at putting up with his natural eroticism, but today couldn’t be helped. He needed to leave before I came in my pants. I could feel pre-cum starting to coat the lower half of my stomach.

“I’m not feeling good all of a sudden,” I said. Mason stepped off of the scale. I couldn’t think straight, and I was for sure too turned on to focus.

“Really, why?” he asked.

“Like I just got a headache out of nowhere.” I was going to cum any second. It’d take me five strokes tops with how I was feeling, but I knew I’d want to go again immediately.

“Oh shit,” he said, picking up his stack of materials. “You gonna be okay?”

“I probably just need to take some Tylenol and get a nap in before it gets too late.”

“Okay.” He grabbed the rest of the Oreos. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Did I mind? Of course I didn’t mind. I was apparently some sort of freak who wanted him eating constantly. “No, go ahead,” I said. He smiled at me appreciatively before popping one of the cookies in his mouth. I walked him to the door, and we said our goodbyes.

I ran back upstairs and got undressed. I stepped onto the scale, which was still in the middle of my bedroom floor. I weighed myself: 159 pounds.

Mason was 67 pounds bigger than I was. I ran my hand over the shaft of my penis. I gave it one pump, two pumps. Fuck, I was picturing his gut in his hands. Three pumps, Four pumps. He had eaten everything on that tray. I pictured Mason getting bigger and beefier. That’s what did it; I came in thick spurts all over myself.

Tomorrow was going to be tough.

It didn’t get any easier controlling my sexual compulsions when Mason came by for tutoring. It had been two weeks since he first asked for my assistance, and I helped him with his papers and worksheets. We also spent time reading. He was so damn cute. He’d whisper things to himself about what was happening in whatever he was annotating. I had heard him say “no way” or “what” at least once per chapter.

I thought this stuff was all really easy, and I was shocked at how he let his grade fall so low in less than two months of school. He must not have done any type of work for this class until now. I considered the fact that he had a social life and lots of friends to distract him from school. I, on the other hand, spent my free time making flashcards and watching reruns of Chopped and Good Eats. Mason had always been the largest component of my social life, so when he went away, so did any potential high school social plans.

Each study visit I always had a tray with different types of snacks. I kept in mind that Mason was a big eater, and the portions remained hearty and plentiful. It was a Friday study session with an essay due on Monday.

“I’m just going to have to come back tomorrow, maybe even Sunday.” He laughed. “I’m totally hopeless.”

“Don’t say that,” I said, being stereotypically positive. “I think you’re doing great. Did you ask Mr. Gonzalez what your grade was?” He asked every Friday.

“D-plus,” he said with his typical furrowed brow. He sighed and began tossing books into his bag (which I told him he needed to start carrying). I stood silent for a moment, contemplating what I should say. “If he wasn’t such a dick and took late work, I wouldn’t have to stress so hard over this.” I wanted to make him feel like the work he was doing was valuable. I saw that he was improving; I just wished he could see it too.

“You’ve got to think about it like you’re lifting weights, you know? You could barely lift anything at the start, but with hard work and dedication you can lift things you never thought possible. You had a thirty percent two weeks ago, and you’re telling me you’ve been able to get that up over a sixty-five? Just imagine where you’ll be in just one more week, a month from now, even. You’ll have the buffest, strongest grade ever.”

“You think so?” he mused. He sat silently for a moment as he pondered what I had just said. He smiled. “I guess you’re right. Thanks Oliver.”

He lifted his hulking frame out of my desk chair and strode over to where I stood. He wrapped me in his beefy arms and gave me a bear hug. I could feel my entire body tingle in pleasure as I felt Mason for the first time in forever. I didn’t dare ruin it by trying to hug him back. My hands at my side, I could feel his warmth, I could smell the chips he ate and the aftershave he wore. They mixed together in a scent that was uniquely Mason. His arms were so solid, as was his slight gut. It was so brief, but it made me the happiest guy in the world. “You have always been the smartest person I know.”

“Thanks—thanks a lot.” He let me go and grabbed his bag. “Do you think you might want something more substantial to eat tomorrow or just a snack? I could definitely make you a meal if you wanted.”

I was doing way too much. The snacks were one thing, completely hospitable, but now I was offering to make him dinner? Did Bret do things like this for him? His other football friends? I was not being very hetero.

“Really?” he asked, shockingly excited. “Do you remember in sixth grade when you wanted to be a chef?” I spent that entire year working through a kid-friendly cookbook. I even started going off-script, coming up with some of my own recipes (though they were just derivative of other things I’d learned from the cookbook). I doubted Mason knew he was the reason I wanted to learn how to cook.  

“Yeah,” I said. “I cooked a different recipe every day for like nine months. You ate dinner at our house every other day before eating the dinner your mom made.” He laughed at the memory.

“I gained like twenty pounds during that,” he started, “but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. You’re the reason I was able to grow up big and strong.” He rubbed his gut absent-mindedly. He was always doing that, and it drove me damn near insane.

“Stop playing,” I said, laughing.

“I’m serious!” he said. We began walking down the stairs towards the front door. We continued planning for the following evening of studying. “I want that chicken and cheese thing you made. Now that was delicious.”

“I could do that.”

“How’s seven for you?” he asked. “I’ve got to help my dad in the shop for a bit and then I’m gonna go lift with Uncle Galvin.”

“That works for me,” I said. “Sounds like you’ll be hungry.”

“Hell yeah,” he replied enthusiastically. “Night Oli.”

“Goodnight Mason,” I said, closing the door behind him.

What was my life? Just like every night after he left, I had to take some time to masturbate. When I finished, I saw it was almost ten. My mom would be back soon. I’d watch whatever was on the Food Network and think about seeing Mason again until she got home.

As happy as I was, I couldn’t help serving myself a much-needed reality check. I wanted to believe that things were going great. We were spending lots of time together and vibing really well. He actually remembered the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special. But we still didn’t speak to one another at school. It was like our relationship existed solely in my bedroom. How well could things be going for me if I was just the gay nerd who overfed him and made sure he didn’t fail English?

I woke up around six the next morning. I was definitely an early bird, getting that worm and whatnot. I took a quick shower and styled my hair. It was thick and black. I used a coconut oil cream to make it curl. It was kind of short, only about three or four inches long, but I thought it looked pretty decent. I had brown eyes and brown skin. My complexion was the color of a caramel hard candy. Both of my parents were black. My dad’s parents were from the South. My mom’s mother was from Jamaica and her dad was from Philadelphia. 

I grabbed the basket for my bike and sent my mom a text. She wouldn’t be up until around eleven, and even after that she’d be out of the house running errands before work. I was going to the store for the ingredients in my dish.

It wasn’t that long of a bike ride to the grocery store, and I’d been making the trip more frequently since I decided Mason needed to be catered to with each visit. I shopped for a while, budgeting things out, and choosing other side dishes. I got everything on my list and remembered I wanted to pick up some ice cream for after dinner. I was going to get a pint of Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion. It used to be Mason’s favorite flavor, and I was willing to bet he still loved it.

I turned back and made my way to the frozen food section. It was near where they kept the eggs and milk and cheese. I noticed Bret with some serious bed head grabbing a gallon of 2%. I snatched the ice cream from the freezer and ran for the checkout, praying he hadn’t seen me. I wanted to hurry the cashier along, but she was a kind older woman who had always been nice to me.

“You sure do grocery shop a lot,” she said, laughing. “You’re such a little thing, but you eat so much. But that’s how young men are. Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite.”

I conversed with her, trying my best not to appear rude, but I really didn’t need to encounter Bret on the weekend. I paid for my stuff and left the store. I went and unlocked my bike, setting it upright so I could put the groceries in the basket.

Before I could take off, I felt someone grab the hood of my hoodie. I fell backwards, my bike falling to the ground. The food rolled out onto the sidewalk.

I looked up from the pavement at Bret smirking down at me. He had on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a Jackson High football sweatshirt. I normally would have just taken whatever beating he had for me, but I was fed up. Today was supposed to be a good day. I was going to make Mason his food and he’d compliment me, and I could live in my delusions for just a little while longer.

I got to my knees before standing straight up. I pushed him as hard as I could, and he stumbled back slightly. “Leave me the fuck alone!” I shouted, kind of embarrassed by how high my voice got.

“Oh, it’s on, you fag,” Bret spat at me. He set the jug of milk he’d been carrying on the sidewalk. “I’m sick of looking at you and your pink fag bike.”

“My bike is red,” I shouted. I didn’t say anything else, and I had no idea what I should do next. We looked at one another intensely.

“Red,” he said as he drew me closer to his body, yanking on my hoodie. “Or pink,” he continued. Punch in the stomach. “You’re still a fucking homo.” Punch. Punch in the mouth. Punch. Punch in the nose. Punch in the cheekbone. Punch. Another punch in the gut. I was panting as he threw me to the ground. I thought I was going to barf. 

“Fuck—you—,” I managed to get out, catching my breath. I had gotten used to my one punch in the stomach a day. This was taking me back to sophomore year when our altercations left me with a new bruise every day. He didn’t seem phased by what I said, just continuing to smirk at me.

“I sure am glad I drank the last of the milk now.” He laughed, stooping to grab his milk, and walked over to his Dodge Charger.

I gathered the scattered items and checked to make sure they were all okay. They were. I put everything back in the basket. I took a few deep breaths before mounting my bike. I rode home and took another shower.

I didn’t want to dwell on the experiences of the morning. I put on some music and spent the rest of the time before I had to start cooking doing laundry and other chores around the house. One beating didn’t mean the world had to stop moving. This was nothing new.

I started cooking around five-thirty, so it would be ready when Mason got here. About five minutes after seven the doorbell rang.

“Hey Mason,” I said, happy to see him. I smiled a little too wide and felt my lip begin to bleed again. It was only a little. I licked the blood away.

“What the fuck Oli?”

“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” I got beat up all the time. This really was not a big deal. After high school I would never have to deal with this sort of thing ever again.

“You look like shit,” he said angrily. “That’s what’s wrong.”

“You’ve seen me like this before. It’s no big deal.”

“It is to me,” he said, eyebrows furious. “Who was it? Who did this? I swear to God if you say Bret after I told him not to touch you anymore.”

“It’s fine, really.” I didn’t want to make this into a whole thing. I had spent the entire day trying to forget about it so that we could have a good time eating and studying together. I wanted him to just leave it alone. I wanted him to stop pretending like he actually cared about what happened. I’d been getting my ass kicked for over three years and he’d never so much as batted an eye.

“Oliver,” he pushed.

“The food is going to get cold, so let’s just go and eat.” I walked away from the front door towards the kitchen, hoping he’d follow. That was when he grabbed my arm. He pulled me close to him. We stood there for a moment. His strong, masculine hands held my upper arms firmly. He looked at my bruised cheek, my busted lip. He brought his mouth to my forehead and kissed it softly. It felt like we were standing there for hours but it couldn’t have been longer than thirty seconds. “Mason—.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. 

He let go of my arms and hesitated a moment before running out to his Jeep and driving off. Had he really just kissed me? I couldn’t believe it. I was pretty sure there was lip to forehead action.

After that Mason never called or texted me, and he didn’t show up to school on Monday. I managed to avoid Bret after school and decided to take Mason his homework. He really hadn’t missed all that much, but I really wanted to see what that kiss was about. I also wondered if he worked on the essay for English class at all. I hadn’t been busting my ass for him to start failing again. It was a longer bike ride, but I made it to his place in about twenty minutes. I rang the doorbell and Mason’s kid sister Agatha answered the door.

“Oliver! Oliver! Oh my God!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down before reaching out for a hug.

“Hey Aggy,” I replied, embracing her. She was thirteen now. I was eighteen, my birthday at the end of September, but Mason was nineteen. His birthday was in July. It was a secret I swore to take to the grave. It was the reason why he never invited classmates to his birthday parties growing up. When he told me about why, it was like something out of a Roald Dahl novel. It was like he was Matilda or something. Mr. and Mrs. Megalos had been remarkably busy helping members of their family immigrate, starting their auto repair business, and welcoming Aggy into the world. They straight up forgot to register him for school. They waited so long that the district said he’d have to wait for the following school year. Mason never told anyone how old he was. He didn’t want people to think he failed a grade. He also didn’t want people to think he had bad parents.

“I missed you so much,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“It’s good to see you too,” I said with a laugh. “We’ll have to catch up soon, but is Mason home?”

“He’s sick,” she said with a pair of air quotes. “I know he’s lying. Sick people don’t eat as much as he does. You can go upstairs.”

“Thanks.”

I made my way upstairs, shocked by how little had changed in their house in three years. I stood outside Mason’s door, nervous about having to discuss what happened on Saturday. What if he didn’t want to talk about it? What if he wanted to pretend it never happened at all? It was now or never. I opened the door to his room. I’d been so wrapped up in my thoughts I’d forgotten to knock. I shouldn’t have been so careless.

“Ah!” Mason yelped, looking over at me in his doorway.

He was naked, but that wasn’t the most outrageous part. There were a ton of reasons why he could be naked and alone in his room. This was his house after all. But he knelt at the side of his bed, dick in hand and a sex toy in his ass. It was definitely the hottest thing I’d ever seen in person, but still a major shock. His ass was just made to take phallic objects. There was so much of him to take in, from the powerful arms to the beefy ass to the bloated gut. I was frozen, staring at his dick and then the sex toy he’d removed from his asshole. He tossed it in a shoe box and shoved it under his bed.

“Oliver, close the door!” he said hurriedly. I turned around and closed the door quickly. He probably wanted me on the other side of it. “I can’t believe I didn’t lock the door,” he mumbled. “Fuck.”

“Mason, look, I’m really, uh—really sorry,” I said, turning back around and staring at him as he pulled on a pair of basketball shorts.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. All I could think about was how big his butt was. He probably did a ton of squats. His legs were hairy, as were his forearms and chest. I could tell his sessions in the gym were paying off, seeing as everything about him was getting absolutely massive. But man, his gut had really grown. He was getting fat. Fatter than when he showed me his belly the first time. He must have been eating constantly. The after-school snacks I prepared for him couldn’t have been pumping him up this much. I knew he said he was bulking, but did he mean to be getting so large?

“I brought your homework,” I said. My voice was shaking. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I should probably go.” What was going on? He was into butt stuff? Was he gay? I’d heard that some straight guys were into anal. They’d have their wives and girlfriends peg them with strap-ons. I couldn’t process this right now with him in front of me. I turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called. “Can I have the work?” How was he so calm? I took off my bag and pulled out the folder where I’d put all the materials he’d need. I stood there, folder in hand, unable to walk towards him. He walked over to me, his dick still semi-erect bobbing freely in the basketball shorts. His thighs were like tree trunks. His chest was broad, and his nipples were slightly bigger than I’d seen on other guys, kind of puffy. Overall, he was looking much fleshier. I needed to focus.

“Sorry,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time. I handed him the folder with the assignments. He reached out to grab them and I took in his mammoth forearms. Mason was a man. He wasn’t my chubby best friend from elementary school anymore. “I didn’t come in on purpose. I swear.”

He had kissed me on Saturday. I remembered my real reason for coming over. I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring up now. I had to let it go. He was just some conflicted straight boy who’d put this and any other gay feelings behind him. He’d marry some girl, have some kids, and she’d peg him well into old age. Me and this whole situation would become a distant memory.

He moved closer to me.

I moved back slightly.

He moved closer to me again.

“Mason, what’re—?” I didn’t know why I came here. I should have just ignored it. He dropped the folder on the ground and pulled me closer to himself.

“I haven’t been honest with myself,” he whispered, looking at me seriously. “Or with you.” I swallowed. He kissed me—on the lips this time. I felt them for the first time on my own lips. This was authentic lip to lip action. I wanted to grab his ass. I wanted to touch his belly. I wanted everything with Mason, but something was stopping me. He pulled away and looked at me again. “I think—I think that I’ve always wanted this.”

He was waiting on me to say something, and I could tell he started to worry. As much as my body ached for him, my mind was conflicted.

“I should go,” I whispered softly, afraid of how’d he’d react to this rejection. It was clear I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. He just took a step back, his lower lip trembling like he was about to cry. I was an idiot. I left his room, closing his door behind me. I was moving pretty quickly now, needing to put as much distance between us as possible so I could clear my head.

“Later Aggy!” I called, opening their front door. I was on my bike and out on the street in a matter of seconds. I pedaled hard, so hard I could feel the burn in my legs.

I made my way home and into my room. I wouldn’t be able to think with the erection I had. I was rock hard the entire bike ride home. I had always been an avid masturbator, but recently it had gotten out of hand.

When I finished, I tried to make sense of the situation. It wasn’t as simple as Mason and I being able to fool around. Where were things going to go now? Would he come out? Would he want to date me? If Mason just wanted to experiment with me, I couldn’t do it, even if part of me wanted to be used by him. I’d spent the last three years allowing myself to be mistreated, and I was not ready to swap one form of degradation for another.

I finished my homework in a daze, not too sure of what I actually completed. I went to bed feeling absolutely miserable.

The next day, I avoided Mason like the plague. I felt wrong, like he really had been sick, and he was making a huge mistake. I went the whole day avoiding him. I didn’t even look in his direction, so I had no idea if he was looking in mine. After school I made my way to my bike. I had to get home. I just needed to be alone to think some more. I set down my bag and started to put in the combo for my bike lock.

I fell forward.

Someone had kicked me in the back as I was kneeling. I turned and saw that it was Bret. Of course it was Bret. He wasn’t alone today. Standing slightly behind him were these other football guys named Bill and Zeke. I wished my eyes were deceiving me, but Mason was there too, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. I tried to finish unlocking my bike, but Bret kicked me again and I fell forward once more. I looked up at Mason, the giant I had idealized for so long. He looked away. Bret said something obscene, but I was too intensely focused on Mason to catch exactly what was said. Our eyes met and we stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

I hated Mason.

I stood up after finally getting my bike unlocked. I mounted it and tried to ride off. I was stopped and pushed over. I wondered why no teachers or staff members tried to intervene. There had to be at least one nearby. I had ripped my jeans when I hit the pavement. I tried to get up. They were all calling me names and laughing. Mason stood silent, their all-powerful leader.

I tried to ride off again and this time I got away. I was crying, but I was too far away from them to see me. I felt like I was nothing, an empty shell peddling home. Mason was—I didn’t know what he was. I didn’t know who he was anymore. We had gone down two completely different paths, and I had thought they were meeting back up. It was stupid of me to believe that. Our paths were only going to continue diverging.

I went around back and put my bike away before going inside to think about Mason some more. The way he looked away when I needed him had me seething. I pulled off my sneakers and the ripped pair of jeans. I hadn’t cut my knee at all, so that was something to be happy about. The doorbell rang. I sat on the sofa hoping they would go away. The bell kept ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

They weren’t going away. I was reaching my boiling point. I just needed to be alone, at least for an hour or so. I ran to the door and pulled it open aggressively.

“Can I help you—?” I asked, before registering who had been ringing the doorbell.

“Hey.” It was Mason. “Can I talk to you, please?” He looked down at my legs. I was in nothing but a t-shirt and pair of black briefs. I didn’t even care. I was still livid.

“What?” I asked harshly. “Did you come to beat me up too? I could have sworn you made the first move yesterday. But if you find it appropriate to pin all faggish activity on me I’m willing to carry the burden.”

“I’m so sorry, Oli.” I felt myself weaken. No. I needed to remain strong. His eyebrows were furrowed; his eyes were sad. Those sad, green eyes had gotten their way numerous times when we were younger.

“Okay, I accept your apology.” I began to close the door. “Goodbye.”

“Wait!” he called, using his weight to keep the door open. “I’m not finished. Can I come in?”

“No,” I said, trying my best to stand my ground. “I hope you fail English. I hope I never have to look at your stupid face ever again.”

“Oli,” he pleaded. He looked at me again with those sorrowful eyes. I hesitated for a moment, but then I moved out of the way so he could enter the house. He brought his beefy frame through the door.

“I’ve got to know,” he started, blushing. “Why did you run out yesterday?”

“Huh?”

“Yesterday, when I was, you know—uh masturbating.” I stood silent, unsure of what to say or what he wanted to hear. I really wasn’t too sure what his angle was anymore. Did that incident mean something to him or not? “Is it because you don’t like how I look? I know I’ve gained some weight. I’m just trying to get some more size, and I’ll lose the extra padding eventually. I’ll start losing it right now if that’s what it takes for you to be attracted to me.”

“Your appearance has absolutely nothing to do with why I left yesterday,” I said honestly. He really thought that was the only reason I left? Had he not considered the entire situation? The last three years of our lives?

“It doesn’t?” he asked, taken aback. “Well, I’m not sure but I think I might be—you know, gay. And—and I have all these feelings for you. Hanging out with you again has only helped me confirm what I knew all along. I missed my best friend, Oliver.”

“Mason—,” I started before he cut me off.

“I’m probably not even your type. That’s so fucking pretentious of me to assume you even think I’m attractive.”

“Mason, listen,” I said, looking him in the eye. “I always believed you didn’t mean to hurt me. I held out hope that we could at least one day be friends again. But the thing that happened Saturday, and then walking in on you yesterday. It just made me angry.”

He was still looking at me seriously, taking in everything I was saying, really trying to hear me out.

“Angry that you felt you couldn’t have talked to me sooner. Angry that you thought we could just sort of hook up? I don’t really know what you thought, but it doesn’t feel like you even tried to think about me at all.”

“You’re all I’ve been thinking about,” he said, his eyes watering. “I fucked up. I’m a pussy. I’m sorry Oliver. I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t take it, looking at him with tears streaming down his face. I’d never seen such a big man cry before, and it made me feel like I needed to give him a hug. But if I didn’t stand up for myself now, I’d always be walked all over.

“When you asked me to help you with your English work do you remember what you said to me?” He shook his head no. “You told me that you didn’t want people to know you were associating with me. I felt so worthless, but I did it anyway because—because you’re still one of the most important people in my life.”

“I’ll never make you feel worthless ever again,” he said, his voice serious and honest. “I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance.”

I crossed my arms, considering what he said. I believed him. I was scared that I believed him. What if I trusted him and got hurt even worse than before?

“I want us to be together,” he said, sniffling. “Being with you makes me feel good, and I want to feel good all the time.”

“I—I think that I want to be with you too,” I said, looking away from him, unsure of if it was a good idea to relent so easily.

“Really?” he asked, wiping his eyes.

It was building up inside of me, the love I had for him, the confession that had been left unsaid years ago. I felt it coming out, like word vomit.

“I love everything about you,” I started, still unable to look at him, “the way your eyebrows do that thing and the way you eat and don’t stop. And if you like bulking and powerlifting I don’t mind that. I think you look amazing and—and, I don’t know, Mason, if you gained more weight, I would still be attracted to you. Get as big as you want, really.”

“You’ve got to be kidding, Oliver. You’re probably one of the best-looking guys in school and you’re attracted to me? Girls hate that you’re gay.” He took a deep breath. “I have never felt the same about girls that I do about you. I think about you every day.”

“I’m not kidding,” I said, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re hot and—and I would even want you to get bigger. I don’t know how to explain it, but the fact that you’re getting bigger makes me really—you know.” I felt like such a weirdo. So much was happening all at once. “I’ve never thought you’ve looked so good.” It felt like the time I told him I was gay. I wondered if he’d just walk out like he had then.

“You’d be okay with me being bigger? For real?” he asked. I felt a slight amount of relief. He hadn’t walked out.

“Yes,” I said, my body tense with nerves. “I would.”

“I like this, being bigger. I always have,” he said. It was silent for a moment. “I want to be bigger. I want to get stronger. This size is something I would’ve never gotten if I kept playing football.” He laughed nervously.

“What?” I asked.

“You sure you’re okay being seen with some big monster?”

“I don’t think you could ever be a monster.” He walked towards me and kissed me so fast I almost fell over. He was huge, like a big teddy bear, and I loved it. I really did, a hundred percent. He laughed, kissing me through the tears on his face. He held me close to him, my dick pressing against him through my underwear.

“Now what?” I asked.

“I guess you’re my boyfriend,” he said seriously. “If you’re okay with that.”

My whole body felt intensely warm. It was like I was in a dream. Maybe I was. Maybe I’d crashed my bike on my way home and I was in a coma, my consciousness somewhere between earth and the great beyond.

Something weighed heavily on me and I was afraid to bring it up. I wanted to squeal with joy and cry tears of relief, but I had to make sure we were on the same page. I didn’t want to end up hurt and alone.

I was quiet, not sure how to ask Mason what was on my mind. I think he hated when I got all silent like this. He was a much more direct sort of person.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s just—am I, uh—is this a secret?”

“No,” he said, eyebrows serious. “I hate you even had to consider that. You’re never going to be a secret in my life ever again.”

I was his boyfriend.

He was my boyfriend.

We were boyfriend and boyfriend.

The next day in school Mason talked to me in every class. He sat with me at lunch. He stopped at my locker with me. He was trying very hard to prove to me that he was serious. He meant what he said about making it up to me for the last three years.

“Mason, what the fuck is your problem?” Bret asked disgustedly. “This whole day you’ve been acting weird.” Bret looked over at me, obviously insinuating that I was what was weird. English class had just ended, and Mason was going to give me a ride home, and not because he wanted something from me, just because he wanted to be around me. I hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

“What do you mean?” Mason asked, feigning ignorance.

“The fag, Mason. The fag.” Bret spat the word fag like it was a disease.

“I don’t think you should use that word anymore. Don’t be that guy.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to hear you using that word or making jokes or putting your hands on Oliver ever again. You or anybody else, so spread the word.”

“Are you in love with him or something?” Bret asked, trying to get a rise out of Mason.

“I might be, yeah,” Mason replied seriously. Bret’s eyes widened before he began to laugh hysterically. “We’re dating.”

“Mason, you are hilarious.” Mason leaned over towards me. He brought his face incredibly close to mine before he touched my lips softly with his own, kissing me. It was a gentle kiss, nothing too intense, but it made me feel exposed. I’d barely kissed anyone before and never in public. “You’re taking it too far dude. That was gay as hell.”

“Probably because I’m gay.”

“You’re—you’re not joking? You’re a fag too?”

“Yep,” Mason said, wrapping his beefy arm around me. “And watch your language, dude. There’s only so many times I’m going to tell you.”

Bret ran off, probably to go tell someone. By tomorrow every single person in the school would know. I wondered what people would say. I hoped Mason would be all right. Maybe that hadn’t been the smartest decision.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, still thinking about him kissing me in front of Bret.

“It’s not like you’re my secret boyfriend.” He smiled and I melted.

He took me home and we went inside. We were going to study and hang out for a while. He told me that he wanted to spend so much time together that I’d get sick of him. I told him that’d never happen. And he said that meant we’d just be stuck with each other. We were in the second week of November, and the weather had cooled considerably. I volunteered to make hot chocolate and he happily accepted my offer. I also provided a plate of chocolate chip cookies I’d made the night before.

“Thanks,” he said as I handed him the drink. He sipped it carefully, making sure to collect the mini marshmallows. He must’ve gotten too excited because some of it spilled onto his lap. He stood quickly.

“Aw shit,” he said.

“Are you okay?” I asked, rushing to grab some paper towels.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “But I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of pissed I wasted some of my hot chocolate.” I laughed at his serious expression, telling him that I was more than willing to make him another mugful. We sopped up the bulk of the liquid with the paper towels, but he let me know he didn’t like the moist feeling.

“I don’t want it to soak into my underwear.”

He popped open the button of his jeans with a sigh of relief. He pulled them down and stood in my kitchen in a pair of navy boxer briefs. “I’ve got to get some new jeans.” He sure wasn’t modest. I was getting hard looking at his big hairy thighs. He could crush someone’s skull with those things. I kind of wanted my skull crushed.

“I don’t think I have anything that’ll fit you,” I said, still staring at his legs. “Maybe a pair of basketball shorts.”

“I’m good like this if you don’t mind,” he said, standing before me like a Grecian statue.

“No way. I don’t think I can control myself looking at you with your legs out like that.” He laughed, jokingly telling me that I was weird.

“They’re just legs,” he said, grinning at me. He’d always loved showing off, and I had always been a willing observer. “And who says you need to control yourself?”

“It’s not just your legs,” I said, getting excited. “It’s your ass. I’ve been looking at your butt for years.”

He turned, looking over his shoulder back at me. The fabric of his underwear separated each cheek, making his ass look even juicier. I wanted to take a bite out of it, my mouth watering at the sight of how much weight he was carrying back there. “If you’ve been checking it out for years, how’s it looking nowadays?”

“Phenomenal,” I said, zoning out. I was completely mesmerized. There was nothing that could break me out of this trance.

“You can grab it,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, like he didn’t know if what he said was okay. Was he testing my attraction to him? Who wouldn’t want to squeeze his meaty ass? I walked closer to where he stood, my hands cupping the ass I’d only ever dreamed of touching since I knew I liked men. I jiggled it slightly, impressed by how I could still feel the muscle underneath its fatty outer layer.

“It definitely feels bigger than I thought it would,” I said, still touching him.

“I do a lot of squats,” he said, laughing apprehensively. “I think it’s gotten bigger these last couple of weeks. Working out with my uncle and eating like I do has changed my body faster than I thought it would.”

He turned around, and I noticed he was hard. He looked down at his penis straining against his boxer briefs and then away from me, biting his lower lip nervously. I bet his muscle-gut blocked some of his lower half from sight. How long would it be before he wouldn’t be able to see his dick when he looked down?

It was nice that he physically reacted to me feeling him up, but was he expecting something more? Would he want to bottom? Was he prepared for that today? I had wondered when things would become more sexual between us. We’d known each other for so long, but not as sexual beings with lots of sexual urges.

I turned away from him, walking towards the freezer. I couldn’t take the awkwardness. I grabbed the ice cream from a few weeks ago that he never got to eat.

“Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion,” he exclaimed gleefully.

“Yeah, I thought you might like it.” I grabbed a spoon, handing it to him along with the pint of ice cream. The little container in his large hand was really cute. He peeled off the lid and dug into the dessert greedily. This probably wasn’t enough ice cream to satiate him. He walked casually over towards a counter, pressing his butt up against it. He leaned back and ate spoonful after spoonful. He licked the spoon slowly after each mouthful.

Was he putting on a show for me? Like when we were younger?

“That was good,” he said after less than ten minutes of eating. A now empty container sat on the counter next to him. He gave a satisfied belch and put his hands on his slightly bloated middle.

“You really know how to eat,” I observed.

“It’s probably weird,” he started, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, making sure not to meet my gaze, “but it kind of turns me on sometimes.”

“It’s not weird.”

I made my way to where he stood against the counter, reaching out and placing my hands on the sides of his middle. We both stood there, silently aroused. I could hear his breathing—in and out, in and out. I lifted his t-shirt. He rested his hand on my shoulder as I massaged his gut. He gave a satisfied moan that made my dick twitch.

“This feels really good.”

“It does?” I asked. I was on cloud nine, finally getting my hands on his gut after fixating over it for weeks. I could see he was getting hard, and I couldn’t believe he happened to be on the same wavelength as I was. I knew he said he liked being bigger, but I didn’t realize he liked it in this way.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” he whispered breathily, closing his eyes. He leaned his head back and grinned, unable to suppress the expression.

I was feeling bold, wanting to take further control of his pleasure. He could be in charge of everything else in our lives, but in this moment, I knew I was the one who could call the shots. I slid one of my hands down under his gut, sliding it into the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Is this okay?” I asked, wanting to get his consent before I continued.

He just moaned again, whimpering as my hand wrapped around his erection.

“Tell me you want me to do this,” I commanded.

“I want it, Oliver,” he whispered. “Please don’t stop.”

He slid his thumbs into his waistband and pulled down his boxer briefs, so I had easier access to his penis. It was above average size and thick, but I was bigger and for some reason that really turned me on. I stroked him gently, enjoying how it pulsated in my hand. I noticed he relaxed his stomach muscles and his gut pushed forward some more. I looked up at his face and he looked back, his eyes glazed over. Fuck, was that a hot expression.

I stopped for a second, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling out my own dick. I stroked us both off, moving nice and slow. With both of my hands now occupied elsewhere, Mason took it upon himself to massage his stomach.

“That belly is looking real good,” I said, watching his expression carefully. He looked—pleased! His eyes were closed, but he got that grin on his face again. He grabbed his gut by the sides and gave it a shake.

He was close and I could tell. Seeing him so aroused was turning me on more than I thought possible. I was going to push him over the edge.

“Fuck Mason, I can only imagine how big your gut is gonna be a few months from now.”

It was a risk, but it paid off. He shot a huge stream of cum across the kitchen floor. He looked at me now, his eyes still had that glazed-over look and he fell to his knees. He grabbed at my jeans, pulling them down along with my underwear.

“Whoa, Mason, what’re—?”

He licked the head of my penis holding the shaft in his somewhat rough hand. His mouth was warm, and he worked my dick with unexpected finesse. Looking down at the top of his head, I took in his curly brown hair. I couldn’t believe this huge beefy guy was on his knees giving me head. I also couldn’t believe this huge beefy guy was Mason of all people.

“Mase, I’m coming.” He removed my dick from his mouth, and I felt cum erupt from inside of me so forcefully I got lightheaded. It wasn’t until I was completely finished that I was able to take in what had occurred. Mason was still on his knees, his face covered in my cum. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice low. He didn’t seem like everything was okay. He got off of his knees, pulling up his underwear. We cleaned up in silence. He got my cum off his face, and I got his cum off the floor. He was the one who broke the silence. “That was weird.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, kind of,” he said, looking down at the kitchen tiles. “What was with that stuff you were saying?”

“Did you not like that?” I asked, feeling less confident than I had been during our sexual encounter. Things were shifting back into their regular alignment. Me being awkward. Mason being intimidating.

“I just—when we talked about me being bigger, you didn’t just mean muscles, did you?”

“I—I, uh, there’s nothing wrong with being bigger.”

“Were you just saying that because you figured out that’s what I’m into?” he asked. “You don’t have to, like, force yourself to be attracted to me like this.”

“Mason,” I started, “I think it’s more than obvious we like the same thing. I don’t know how we lucked out like this, but that gut you’ve got is definitely sexy.” He just laughed.

“Oli, c’mon,” he said. “You’re legit gorgeous. You could be an underwear model or something, I mean, damn, your quads are amazing.” I laughed. He reached out, grabbing my arm, and pulled me forward. He rested his masculine hands on my ass, like I had always wanted. “And this bubble butt is something else.”

“I’ve got to know Mason. When did you start thinking you might be gay?”

“The day you told me,” he said. I pushed myself away from his solid body.

“What?”

“Yeah, you coming out to me was really confusing. And I figured I should avoid you for a little while to figure things out—I didn’t think it’d be three years though, sorry.”

I just laughed. We’d missed out on years together. There really was nothing to do but find the humor in the situation, because otherwise it would be too sad to think about.

“I started watching gay porn freshman year and I bought that sex toy about a year ago.”

“You’re something else,” I said. “I guess that’s why I like you so much.”

He smiled and it just felt like it got easier to breathe. I ended up making him another mug of hot chocolate before throwing his jeans in the washing machine. Being domestic with him was turning me on, but then again, anything involving Mason was a turn on. I was starting to feel more peaceful. Mason and I would keep talking and figuring things out about this relationship. We had time. We finally had time.

Christmas break came after what felt like an eternity. Of course, people were talking about me and Mason. We could hear their not-so-whispered remarks every single day. He ignored it and held my hand through it all, which really meant a lot to me. He was an incredible person.

Mason had been so liked by everyone, that it was odd to see his old friends ignore him or mumble fucked-up things under their breath when he was nearby. I didn’t know how he could take it, falling so far from the graces of the popular crowd. I had always been on the outskirts, so I couldn’t really understand what he was going through.

We’d made it through Thanksgiving unscathed. It was a little sad we couldn’t spend the holiday together, but Mason hadn’t come out to his family and I hadn’t told my mom we were dating. He’d pushed himself incredibly hard these last couple of weeks, so if he wanted to ease into telling his parents, I wasn’t going to complain.

But that tranquility Mason was experiencing at home was short lived. If the entire high school knew Mason was gay, there was only a matter of time before word got back to people’s parents. Those parents talked to other parents, and those parents talked to Mason’s parents.

The first night of break, Mason was confronted by his father about what he’d heard from a customer in his auto shop. I hated the look on Mason’s face when he told me this story. It was heartbreaking. It felt like it was all my fault.

Mason’s dad threw him out. Mr. Megalos took him up by the collar of his shirt and threw him out the front door. Well, he grabbed his collar, yes, and likely pulled him by it, but I doubted he could actually lift Mason to throw him anywhere. His mom let him back in of course, but he packed a bag and left. He’d shown up on my doorstep a little before midnight. It was obvious he’d been crying.

“They found out,” he said. And I knew. I knew his heart was probably in a million pieces.

“Oliver, who is at the door?” My mother walked into the foyer, wrapping herself in a fluffy robe. She’d gotten in from work about an hour ago and had just finished with some self-care. I was glad she’d just taken a bath, because I needed her to be in a good mood.

“Mom, it’s Mason,” I said.

“Well look at that,” she said, taking him in for the first time in three years. “What has Katerina been feeding you?” Mason gave a half-hearted laugh, and I grabbed his arm, pulling him into the house.

“It’s, uh, good to see you Ms. Bailey.”

“Mason, you can go up to my room while I talk to my mom.”

My mom raised her eyebrows at this, watching as Mason walked towards the rear of the house where the stairs were. That was when the begging began. She had me on my knees.

“You know he can’t stay here Oliver.”

“Mom,” I pleaded, my voice somewhat whiny. “He needs this. He’s my best friend. Please.” She laughed, and I knew it was because she didn’t consider Mason to be my best friend anymore. I hadn’t mentioned him in years; the last time she’d brought him up, I blew up at her.

(“Oliver, sweetheart, you don’t want to invite Mason to celebrate your birthday with us?” I was turning sixteen and I hadn’t talked to Mason in nearly eleven months.

She knew something had been off between us, as Mason hadn’t been to our house since I came out to him.

“It’s just another day,” I replied, feeling especially mopey. “He’s probably busy anyway.”

“I could call Katerina,” she suggested. “If you boys had a falling out, we can get things back on track. He’s been your best friend since first grade.” I was embarrassed. I didn’t know how to navigate how I was feeling. There was just so much shame and sadness that I hadn’t really taken the time to unpack.

“Can you just shut up?” I demanded. “We aren’t friends anymore, okay? It was my fault. There’s no way to fix it, so can you please just drop it?” I stormed off to my bedroom after that. I spent the rest of my sixteenth birthday alone crying in my bedroom. It was definitely a low. I knew the only reason my mom didn’t come after me was because it was my birthday. If it were any other day and I spoke to her like that, I’d probably be dead.)

“Oliver, we just can’t. You need to let his family work out whatever problem they’re dealing with.”

“Mom, if—if he can’t stay, I’ll leave with him,” I said, being dramatic.

“No, you won’t,” she replied, laughing. She was calling my bluff.

“I will,” I said, trying my best to win her over. “We’ll wander the streets, sleep in his Jeep. I might even have to become a prostitute to scrape by. We’ll drop out of high school. Do some drugs. Is that what you want Mom? I really don’t think it is.” I sounded like I was describing the plot of some made-for-TV movie.

“Oliver,” my mother said with a theatrical groan, massaging her temples. She obviously wanted to laugh at my monologue, which I knew would play into my favor. “If Katerina and Adrian come to take him home, we aren’t going to fight them on it, do you understand?”

She smiled at me gently. She was legit the best mother in the entire world. She probably only relented because she had just gotten in from work (and she’d had her bubble bath and a glass of wine). She worked as a nurse during a shift that went from three until ten-thirty, and that was when the hospital didn’t ask her to come in early or stay late.

“Yes, thank you!” I actually jumped for joy, clasping my hands together in gratitude. “You won’t even notice that he’s here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied. “He needs to sleep in your room because I don’t want him on my sofa. We just got that thing last year and the way he’s looking, it’d be sunken in within the month.”

I just laughed, promising Mason would not be allowed anywhere near her sofa. She likely assumed Mason was not gay. I knew right away that Mason had been outed to his family, but I didn’t make that information privy to my mother. When explaining why he needed to stay with us, I just sort of said his dad was mad about him quitting the football team and putting on some weight. I had been planning on telling her we were dating, but it was probably a good thing I hadn’t mentioned it.

“Okay, that’s fine. I’m sure he won’t mind the floor for a little while.”

“Goodnight Oliver,” she said, walking towards where her bedroom was on the first floor. The second floor was an addition, and the only thing up there was my bedroom and a bathroom. “Mommy is tired. They want me to come in early tomorrow, so you kids need to keep it down.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied. “Goodnight best mom in the entire universe.”

“Yeah, sure.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling under her breath. “Tell Mason it was nice seeing him again.”

I made my way to the rear of the house and ran up the stairs to my room. I closed the door quietly.

“She said you could stay here until you’re able to work things out with your family.” I was smiling at him, but that excitement was short-lived. This wasn’t some slumber party. He was here because he couldn’t be at home.

“Thank God,” he said with a sigh of relief.

“She said you have to sleep in here,” I said in mock-apology. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll have to share a bed.”

“Well damn it,” he replied. “I guess if there’re no other alternatives.” He got off of my bed and walked towards me. He put his arms around me slowly and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him—which had gotten considerably more difficult post-Thanksgiving. I kissed him a little bit longer before pushing him away.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, trying to cull my arousal. We could not have sex right now. I felt weird about doing things like that with my mom in the house. I totally wouldn’t be able to focus.

“Yeah, I don’t really want to think about it,” he answered. “I’d rather make out with my boyfriend—among other things.”

“We have to wait until tomorrow, or my mom will hear and freak out,” I said seriously.

We’d masturbated together a few more times since the first experience in the kitchen. He’d given me head a few more times, and I reciprocated that as well. But we hadn’t done the actual deed. With him living here for an unknown amount of time, especially during winter break, we were likely going to go all the way.

“We can be quiet,” he whined. I was so turned on by the fact he enjoyed being intimate with me. Hearing him beg for it almost had me relenting.

“It will be better tomorrow,” I said, walking over to my laundry basket and throwing my shirt into it.

“Fine,” he pouted before smiling. “But don’t expect me to let go of you all night.”

We got into the bed and he kept his promise. At least for this night, the first time we ever were going to sleep together in the same bed, he had me pulled closely into his beefy body. My full-sized bed was just right, but at the rate Mason was growing, I didn’t think it would be just right for long.

I knew he didn’t want to talk about what happened with his dad, at least not yet, so we enjoyed one another in silence. Before long, I could hear him gently snoring behind me. He was very warm and that made me feel so calm, that before long, I was also fast asleep.

I was awake a little after six and immediately got up to take a shower. Mason was still sleeping even after I finished my shower, so I went to make him breakfast. I had made hash browns, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. He was still sleeping when I finished around nine.

I ate with my mom and she let me know she was going to spend the morning shopping with my grandmother. She would be home this afternoon to take a nap and get ready for work. After she left, I went to wake up Mason.

He sat up quickly when I mentioned there was breakfast waiting for him downstairs. He got out of bed. He was wearing a pair of gray boxer briefs and a white undershirt. His thighs were huge and strong looking. His ass was barely contained by the ash-colored fabric. His belly pushed the small shirt up a bit, around his belly button. His arms looked massive, and I wanted to grab ahold of them and never let go.

Breakfast. Breakfast. Breakfast.

“You can use the bathroom and come down for breakfast,” I said finally, regaining focus.

“Okay,” he said, sleepy eyed, scratching his tummy. He went off to the bathroom connected to my bedroom. I heard the flush of the toilet, then the sink turning on and off, and about five minutes later he exited the bathroom, face scrubbed, and teeth brushed. We made our way downstairs.

Looking at the table, there was a ridiculous amount of food for one person. Even with what my mother and I ate, there was way too much for Mason. I’d used almost an entire bag of potatoes for the hash browns. I’d have to get another carton of eggs, having used the ten that we had in the fridge. The toast was buttered, and the bacon was crisp. I’d definitely been excited while cooking, thinking with my dick and not my head.

“I realize now this is an excessive amount of food.”

“I didn’t get to eat dinner last night,” he said. “I’m starving.”

He wasn’t kidding. He really was.

Mason tackled the spread like a competitive eater. He took a piece of toast and carefully folded it in half before adding some of the other ingredients, making a sort of taco. He did this until the eight pieces of toast were gone. He then ate what was left of the eggs and hash browns with hot sauce. He drank two big glasses of milk too. I didn’t realize how much he could eat. I was sitting at the table across from him.

It was after breakfast. My mom wasn’t home. We could finally have at it.

“You ate all of it,” I said, touching my boner underneath the table. I was wearing a pair of running shorts that came about halfway up my thigh. I was easily able to access my dick.

“Yeah,” he said, his face going red. “I didn’t have dinner and I was really hungry and it tasted so good.” He placed his hands on his belly.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, tugging at the hem of his shirt, failing to keep it down. Majority of his clothes had begun to fit this way. “I guess you were wrong about the whole me getting fatter thing.”

“I was not wrong,” I said, standing. He took in my massive erection and smiled, relief showing on his face.

“We really are a pair of sexual deviants, huh?” I walked to his side of the table and grabbed his hand. He stood up, looking down at me for a moment. He scooped me up and held me in his powerful arms. We looked at one another for a moment. His eyebrows were so serious it made me laugh. He joined in and we laughed hard for a few moments.

“I got excited,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re so excited. It means it’s not just me.” Still in his arms, he made his way towards the stairs and ran us up to my room.

In a flurry, our clothing items flew off our bodies. His t-shirt, my shorts. My sweatshirt, his boxer briefs. We stood completely naked in the middle of my bedroom, and it was all sort of surreal.

“Oli, you’ve got a body like a porn star.”

“You may not be as defined as I am, but I’d much rather see you in a porno.” He laughed.

“We could be in one together,” he said, joking. “It’d be the only video I’d ever need for the rest of my life.”

I smiled at him, my hands on his waist. I enjoyed how he’d begun to spread out. His gut hadn’t been like this back in October. He was developing love handles, with little stretch marks around where his torso met his hips.

My hands moved to his biceps and he flexed them for me. My dick jumped at how solid his arms were, craving his body. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asked.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

He nodded.

I grabbed a condom and lube from a box in my closet. I didn’t think I’d ever get to use these things, and here I was about to use them with Mason. He moved onto the bed and he put his ass out for me.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked.

“No, but I’ve seen a lot of porn,” I said truthfully, almost half-regretting my honesty. “Have you ever had sex before?”

“No,” he said. “I hadn’t even kissed anyone before I kissed you.” I had made out with some guys before, but I didn’t want to spoil how sweet that was. Something about this whole situation was kind of empowering.

“I’ll be gentle,” I said, trying to be suave. Sure, I had seen my fair share of pornography, but seeing something and executing something were two very different things. I didn’t want to be bad at it. I was always the passive, quiet one and I had to admit, I enjoyed the idea of being the dominant one in the bedroom.

I lubed up my penis as well as his asshole. I slapped his butt, enjoying the sound it made. I did it again and he gasped softly. He arched his back a little, accentuating the size of his ass.

I entered his beautiful ass slowly. I started with just the head, not wanting to hurt him. He was breathing loudly, but it didn’t sound like he was in pain. I moved slightly, pushing a little more of myself into him, and felt a tingle go throughout my whole body. Mason continued gasping and whimpering and breathing loudly as I slowly pushed more and more of my dick inside of him.

“Christ!” he yelped. I stopped moving.

“Do you need me to stop?” I asked.

“Fuck, Oli,” he said, panting. “It’s starting to feel good. Keep going.” I did as I was told and bucked my hips back and forth, the sound of my upper thighs slamming against his fat ass creating a sort of beat. About halfway through he started tugging at his dick, moaning loudly as he came. That did it for me, and after a few more strokes, I filled the condom with my cum.

I was sure if someone were watching it would have looked awkward, but I didn’t care at all. I had never felt closer to a person. I had never felt closer to Mason.

Actual sex was way better than masturbating.

“Are you okay?” I asked, removing the condom and throwing it in my trashcan.

“That felt really good.” Mason was still panting. I walked over to the bed where he was laying down and laid next to him. “I was worried there for a second, but little Oli sure knows what he’s doing.” I laughed.

“That was possibly the best experience of my life,” I said. He rolled over on top of me, straddling me, and covered my face with kisses. I loved it.

“How much do you weigh now?” I inquired, feeling his weight pressing me down.

“Get the scale,” he said, swinging himself from on top of me. I got off of the mattress and made my way to the bathroom. I got the scale and set it in the center of my bedroom. He placed his large feet on the scale, and I read the number.

“283 pounds.” In less than three months, Mason had gained nearly sixty pounds. I was getting hard again just thinking about where he’d be three months, six months, a year from now. I stepped on the scale next, also getting off on how much more he weighed than I did. It read 160 pounds and a little extra. 123 pounds. Mason was 123 pounds bigger than me.

“You’re fucking tiny,” he said in disbelief, looking down at the number displayed on the monitor. “I never realized how little you are." I turned my naked body to face him and gestured to my flaccid cock, which admittedly, was still pretty big.

“I wasn't talking about that,” he said with a laugh. “I haven’t weighed 160 pounds since the fifth grade.”

“Do you not like me being skinny?”

“I find your skinniness to be quite the turn on.” He kissed me, grabbing my ass. “And if we’re being honest, you store all your weight in just the right places.” I didn’t know why that made me so flustered, but it did. I felt my face go hot. I liked that he thought I had a nice ass.

“I’d have to say the same goes for you,” I said.

“I hope to get much bigger,” he said, stepping back from me. He flexed his arms and I felt myself getting hard again. He knew what he was doing, turning me on. He turned around, so I could look at his wide back and juicy butt. He was damn near a wall. He turned back around and looked at me with extreme intensity.

“What’s with that look all of a sudden?”

“I want to be able to keep you safe, Oli. I’m going to be big enough to protect you from everything.” I was so turned on again. He was adorable.

“Thanks Mason,” I said, reaching out to embrace him. We stood together for a few minutes before we took a shower and got dressed. Throughout the day Mason ate all the snacks we had in the house. We went shopping and stockpiled food in my bedroom. He didn’t want to let my mother know he was constantly inhaling food. We did have to keep all the milk he got in the fridge. I wondered what my mom would say about it. Two weeks of him eating this way and he’d get huge.

Holiday break could only last the two weeks; I knew it could only be two weeks, and yet the morning classes were to resume, I was an anxious mess. Mason’s constant eating slapped another ten pounds onto his beefy frame, putting him at 293 pounds. Everyone was going to notice. He was gigantic. He was still incredibly muscular underneath his recent gain though, only making him appear even wider.

The only time Mason was away from me was when he’d go to meet with his uncle to lift weights. Galvin told Mason he didn’t care that he was gay, and that Mason’s dad would come around soon. It meant a lot to Mason that his uncle still supported him.

Mason’s arms were big and strong, and his thighs were probably so large to hold up his massive bubble butt. His belly pushed up all his shirts and buttoning pants was just a waste of time, so he wore sweatpants and the biggest sweatshirt he could find. I felt bad. This day was going to be bad. He looked good to me of course, but everyone was going to stir up trouble. I didn’t want to go to school.

He drove us to school that morning and things were fairly similar to the way they were before break. That’s not to say people weren’t making comments, but there was nothing too out of the ordinary. Things were actually bearable until lunch.

We sat together, eating lunch amidst the stares of our nosy classmates. I had a fruit salad, some fries, a grilled chicken sandwich, and a banana. Mason had bought three slices of pizza, fries, chicken tenders, and three milks. It was like he didn't care about what was happening at all—all the stares, all the names, the comments, and dirty looks.

“How are you doing this?” I asked, eating a few fries, but not really feeling all that hungry. My stomach was in knots. He was already on his second slice of pizza.

“Well, I mean you kind of move your mouth in a gnawing motion after placing food in there. Like this—,” he said, taking a colossal bite and chewing theatrically. I laughed loudly. He was so dumb sometimes, able to make a joke that could distract me from my negative feelings. He smiled at me and started on his chicken tenders.

“I meant all of the people,” I said, clarifying what I was sure he knew I was originally referring to.

“I just don’t care,” he said seriously. “I wasted three years of my life caring about what other people thought. It’s 2012. Being gay shouldn’t be this big of an issue. I let other people tell me being gay was wrong. I don’t see anything wrong with it.” He gulped down his second milk, nibbling at his remaining fries. His sweatshirt exposed a bit of belly as it set in his lap. “I love you, Oli. I just think about that and I don’t even notice everybody else.”

He loved me? I knew I loved him too, but we hadn’t said it before.

“I think I’ll try that,” I said. “Thinking about how much I love you.” I thought I was supposed to be the one thinking positive? I was proud to call Mason my boyfriend.

I opened my banana and heard an increase in laughter. I looked over at Bret pointing at me.

“You thinking about Mason’s dick?” he called, causing his table to erupt in laughter again. I forgot not to get a banana. I hadn’t eaten a banana at school since freshman year. I moved the banana away from my lips, visibly distraught. It was so embarrassing being made fun of in front of Mason.

“Can I have that?” Mason asked as he smiled at me. I handed him the banana. “Thanks.” He put it in and out of his mouth suggestively, making a ridiculous face as well. He then shoved the whole thing in greedily. He had me doubled over in laughter again. He was so absurd sometimes. He chewed and drank the last milk.

“Mase, you’re so goofy.”

“Thanks. That was so good,” he said loudly, for Bret and his cronies to hear. He smiled again, his eyes sparkling. Was I falling even more in love with him? He leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “I’m still hungry. I think I got too used to you keeping me well-fed. I’m going to get a cookie.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a bite out of my sandwich. I felt better. Better than ever. I was almost done with my sandwich when Bret came over. That positive feeling didn’t stand a chance.

“What’s up faggot?”

“I don’t care what you call me.” I stood, looking to find Mason so we could spend the rest of the lunch period in the library. We could study for English. Anything would be better than having to stay around Bret for an extended period of time. Bret placed his hand on my shoulder and forced me back into my seat.

“I don’t give a fuck what you care about.” I looked up at him from my seat. He narrowed his blue eyes at me, making him look like a rat. This guy really hated me. I stood up again and turned to walk away, kind of afraid of what he was going to do to me. “I hate what you are. You did something to Mason.”

“Like what?” I asked, turning to face him. Did he think I was blackmailing Mason? Threatening him with violence? Casting love spells?

“I don’t know.” He took a cupcake from a tray on a neighboring table. He looked down at it for a moment, likely pausing for dramatic effect, before he slammed it into my face. “But I don’t like it.”

I’d spent years dealing with this sort of treatment from Bret, but for some reason this was actually getting to me. We were in the middle of the cafeteria and nearly everyone was looking at us now. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to take Mason’s words to heart. But he hadn’t experienced just how awful I’d been treated. I warily scrapped some of the frosting from around my eyes.

“Oh shit,” one of the girls nearby mumbled to the friend she was sitting with.

I turned, watching as Mason made his way over to where Bret and I stood. I saw his eyes travel from my face to Bret’s. Mason calmly set his cookies on the table next to me and pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. The whole cafeteria was silent. It was like every sound had been magically muted.

“Mason,” I said nervously, trying to pull him away from Bret. “We need to go study for the Spanish quiz. We have to go now.” Bret was no match for Mason, and everyone else was still too afraid to even try and fight him. Mason was going to get in trouble. He used to get into fights all the time. He had never hit me, but I’d seen him pummel other assholes.

Mason yanked his arm from my grasp easily. Everything happened so fast, but I don’t think Bret landed a single blow on Mason. After about three minutes, I saw Bret was all purple and bloody.

“Fucking bitch!” Mason spat, his voice intense like the roar of a grizzly. The school security officers were coming. “You lay a hand on my boyfriend again and you’re dead.”

“Come on!” I pulled his sweatshirt and he finally stormed out.

“I should have killed him,” he said angrily, nostrils flared. He was breathing heavily.

“Okay, so yeah, Bret’s the worst,” I started, picking cupcake out of my eyebrows, “but I don’t think life in prison is going to solve anything. It’s not worth it.”

“I know, you’re right,” he said, his breathing slowing. “I just don’t want you to get hurt by him anymore.”

“By a cupcake?” I asked jokingly, trying to calm him down further.

“You know what I mean,” he said.

He leaned against a row of lockers. This wasn’t going to go unchecked by the school. They’d call his parents over this. He might even get suspended.

“I forgot my fucking cookies!” he exclaimed angrily.

“I could totally make you some!” This side of Mason was really hot, but I knew he wasn’t feeling great about the whole situation. As sexy as angry-Mason was, I still preferred when he was happy.

“Let’s go.”

“Huh?” I asked, trotting behind him. He was making his way towards the exit. We ditched Spanish and English. I had never ditched a class before, and I felt like a fugitive.

He pulled up outside of my house.

“I’ll be back,” he said. I nodded and got out of the Jeep. He drove off. I had never seen Mason so upset. I was pretty sure it had a lot to do with what Bret represented. Bret was a past that Mason wanted to forget. I knew Mason still struggled with guilt about how things had been between us the last three years, and I tried to assure him I had let that stuff go, but I knew he thought about it a lot. I didn’t know how to emphasize to him I wanted to just move on. High school would be over soon, and I would get to start the important years of my life. He had read an article about teen suicide in the LGBTQ+ community a few weeks ago. He looked sick after he finished it. I remember he looked at me seriously and said, “You could’ve killed yourself.”

Mason returned. He had gone to the gym. I looked at him and saw his huge arms and thighs looked pumped. He went to my bathroom and took a shower. I sat on the bed waiting. He exited the bathroom in a towel. His belly hung over the pink fabric. He dropped the towel revealing a beautiful ass. He looked so huge. Bret hadn’t stood a chance this afternoon.

I was always semi-erect around Mason but looking at him naked in front of me had me fully hard. He walked over to me and sat next to me on the bed. He leaned his body against mine. I could hear him breathing. I felt him press into me bit by bit. He was kind of whimpering, like a big Mastiff puppy.

“I’m so sorry, Oliver,” he said.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” I placed my hand on his monstrous thigh, squeezing it gently. “You stood up for me today, and I’m still hard thinking about how hot it was.” He grabbed me, pulling me close and passionately kissing me.

He ended up on his back in the bed and I ended up giving him head. It was the least I could do for how he stood up for me. And Mason couldn’t help himself, so I ended up getting head in return. But then I couldn’t help myself and found myself with his dick in my mouth again. It was a cycle that I didn’t really want to see broken.

That fight with Bret didn’t go unchecked by school administration. Mason’s parents had to come have a meeting with the principal and the dean. Both he and Bret were let off with warnings, but the school made it very clear that they could not protect Mason from the law next time, considering he was nineteen and Bret was only seventeen.

He moved back home after that, which was honestly kind of sad. We’d only gotten to live with one another for less than a month. He and his father did finally start talking again, but Mason told me it was strained conversation.

Nobody messed with us again until Valentine’s Day. In our school there was a fundraiser where a person could purchase a flower to send to a friend or crush or romantic partner. Of course, I had never gotten one, but Mason used to get tons of them every year. I went to buy one and I wrote a card for it. I wrote: Mason, I love you. Yours forever, Oliver.

I thought it looked sophisticated and mature. I paid the two dollars, took the carbon copy receipt, and went to class. I wondered if he even thought about those stupid flowers. Then I wondered if he got me one. I was getting all excited thinking about it, but I knew to keep my expectations in check.

I met him before first period. We were working when the flowers were delivered. I didn’t expect one this period. They measured out the number of flowers a person was to receive and equally distributed them throughout the day. If a person were to receive only one rose, they’d get it during their last period of the day. But I got one anyway, in first period, which meant I had more coming. There was no name. It was a card with one word: Faggot.

Mason looked at me to see who it was from, but I quickly put it in my pocket. “I hope you’re not cheating on me,” he joked, smiling at me.

“Of course not!”

“Well, why can’t I see the card?”

“It’s mine,” I said. This was likely Bret fucking with me again. I could not let Mason know about this. He might actually kill Bret this time, and I didn’t very much think orange was Mason’s color. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” he replied sternly, his eyebrows furrowed. He was mad. Throughout the day I got the flowers with the same card. With each one, Mason got more and more unnerved. I thought he was going to beat the shit out of me. At lunch he didn’t say a word. He ate a lot extra so he wouldn’t have to talk to me. I didn’t want him to see them. We couldn’t afford another incident like when he beat Bret to a pulp over a cupcake. He’d go berserk if he knew what was happening.

We walked to Spanish in silence. I got another card, and it said the same thing, but with a name—Bret. Surprise, surprise. I knew it was him. Nobody else would go so far to harass someone. Mason gave me a look of death and I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach. I just wanted to go home. English came and I got my first nice flower all day. It said: I think you’re the best boyfriend in the world. Love, Mason.

I put that one in a separate pocket. Mason had gotten his first flower, which I was assuming was the one I purchased for him. He scanned it over and over. I hoped he liked it. Maybe it would make up for not showing him the Bret cards. I looked up at him and smiled. He stood up and stormed out; I followed. I heard Bret laughing as I entered the hallway.

“Mason! Wait up, what’s wrong? Mason!” He turned to face me. I saw he was trying to think about what to do. He pushed me into a locker, and it felt like he was getting ready to punch me.

“You—,” he started. He pulled out the card and read. “‘It’s over, Mason. I’ve gotten you back for three years of absolute torment. Did you really think I’d ever want to be with you, especially now? You’re a joke.’” Mason hadn’t stopped growing since moving back home. He was up another ten pounds, putting him at 303 pounds. I loved every ounce of him. I would never send that. I hoped he’d be smart enough to realize that.

“Please don’t hit me,” I exclaimed, flinching. He didn’t. Thank Jesus; he could have given me internal bleeding or something.

“I’d never put my hands on you,” he said angrily. Now he was mad and offended.

“I would never send that,” I said, pulling out the carbon copy receipt. “Look.” I handed him the card and he read it, looking relieved.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he groaned. He was getting worked up. I had a bad feeling. “I knew you didn’t send this, and it still got me emotional. I’m so sorry for pushing you. I’d never hit you. I swear I wouldn’t. But those cards you’ve been getting all day have really fucked with my head.” I reached into my pocket and handed him the cards. I hadn’t wanted him to see them, but at this point I had to be honest.

“These are the cards I’ve been getting all day, okay?” He read them and really went insane, heading for the exit.

“Mason, we’re going home, yeah?”

“Hell no. We are waiting for Bret and this is going to end today. Oliver, I’m going to kill him. I swear to God, I might just kill him.”

“You’ll get in trouble,” I said immediately. “No way.”

“Not if it’s after school.” That was ridiculous. He’d so still get in trouble. We passed through the doors leading outside as the afternoon announcements came on.

“You can’t do this Mason,” I said, trying my best to calm him down. “You’ve got to let this go.” The bell finally rang and two minutes later kids surged out of the building. He ran right at Bret who had been describing what he had done to two of his own beta-males. Bret was knocked to the ground.

Bret looked up at Mason from the ground. Mason was in a t-shirt alone. We hadn’t stopped at our lockers. The sleeves in the underarm area ripped with the advanced movement of his huge arms. Mason leaned over and punched him, harder and harder.

He stood straight up, hovering over Bret who was still laying on the pavement. “You ever fuck with us again, you’ll get your ass kicked worse than this.” There was a group around us, which formed a circle. Mason then spoke to them, turning every so often. It was almost like we were in the Colosseum, Mason a gladiator orating to the spectators.

“I like men,” Mason began. “But don’t let that confuse you. I can still fuck up anybody who steps to me or my boyfriend.” People were hanging on his every word. It was amazing.

“And this bitch over here,” Mason continued, gesturing towards Bret, “Has the weirdest fucking obsession with us. He went out of his way to send my boyfriend flowers all day today. I guess you could say he has a little crush.” This had people laughing now. “Babe, you should thank him for the flowers, but do let him down easy.”

“Uh, thanks for the flowers,” I said, uneasy having been put on the spot, but excited to be standing up to Bret in front of everyone for the first time. “But I’ve already got a boyfriend, so maybe you could find someone else.” The circle erupted in a resounding ‘Ohhhh!’ and lots of laughter.

“So who started this?” Mason asked the bloodthirsty spectators.

“Bret!” the crowd shouted. “Bret! Bret! Bret!” Mason started to walk off and I followed close behind him. The crowd parted so we could pass. I had never wanted to fuck him more than now. We could still hear people chanting and laughing as we made it to his Jeep.

Once inside, he drove towards my house, eyes focused intently on the road. His stomach growled loudly. There was a slight pause after the growling ceased, and then we both laughed loudly.

“Now I’m starving,” he said. I knew exactly what I wanted to make him.

As soon as we made it to my house, I started cooking. Mason went off to take a shower, saying something about needing to cool off. The whole situation with Bret still had him slightly heated. I was definitely still wound up from that encounter too, but not in the same way as Mason. Just thinking about how he’d stood up for the both of us had me soaking through my briefs. I’d been hard for some time now, ever since Mason’s whole ‘Are you not entertained?’ bit.

I cooked and cooked and cooked until I ended up making much more food than I thought we needed. It was just the two of us, but I’d made enough for five. I just couldn’t control myself when cooking for Mason. I loved seeing how much he could put away, how pleased his face would be when he ate an excessive amount of food.

I made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special. It was a dumb concept that I came up with back in middle school during the early days of my culinary exploration. The main component was a mozzarella-stuffed chicken breast that I would deep fry. I served it with macaroni and cheese. And, even though I knew it was overkill, broccoli covered in a cheese sauce (I’d even made a dozen rolls, and no, they weren’t cheese stuffed). It was a lactose-intolerant person’s worst nightmare, but Mason had never had any problems with dairy. He probably couldn’t go on living without it. I made five of those chicken breasts, a huge serving dish worth of broccoli, and enough mac and cheese for a family of four.

About an hour later he came lumbering down the stairs. I’d just finished plating the food, with parsley and everything. He sat at the table, shirtless, and I took in his quarter-sized nipples. His pecs were still firm but had a nice layer of fat over them. My mouth didn’t water when I thought about dinner, but Mason’s tits had me almost drooling all over myself. I never would have thought he would be this big. I set his plate and silverware in front of him, and then the basket of rolls.

“I made too much,” I said.

“I don’t think so,” he said, smiling up at me from his seat at the table, “especially since you made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special.” I felt my face go hot. It meant a lot to me that Mason remembered the name of this meal, but I needed to come up with a new one. Something that wasn’t so embarrassing. I wasn’t twelve anymore.

“I’ll get you something to drink,” I said, walking towards the fridge and pouring him a glass of milk.

“Thanks.” He didn’t waste time getting started. He didn’t even use silverware to eat the chicken breast, simply picking it up and taking a large bite, pulling the meat away from his mouth causing an impressive cheese pull.

In this moment, watching him happily eat, I realized that Mason hadn’t really changed all that much since we were younger. Yeah, he was over a hundred pounds bigger and six inches taller, but he was still the same silly, considerate, sometimes hot-headed guy I’d always had a crush on.

I must’ve been staring, because he looked up from his plate, catching my gaze. He stopped racing through the food on his plate, eating more slowly.

“What’re you staring at?” he asked, chewing, stabbing a broccoli floret with his fork. “You haven’t even started eating yet.”

“I just really love you,” I said honestly. “I can’t help staring.”

“C’mon Oli,” he said, his face reddening, “You’re just trying to embarrass me.”

“I’m not!”

“Well, I love you too,” he said, his face still flushed. “I’m really lucky, you know? Who’d ever think a guy like you would be interested in me.”

Whoa—Mason was always surprising me. My initial assessment wasn’t completely fair to him. Mason had changed. In a way that was really significant.

He’d become more courageous.

He was brave enough to come out, to date me, to change his body in a way that wasn’t considered conventionally attractive. Even if all the things I loved about him from our youth were the same, I was fortunate enough to be able to love the man he was becoming as well.

I stood, going to refill his plate. He ate this serving just like the first, like if he didn’t get it all down fast enough someone might come and take it away. I sat down and watched, picking at the portion I’d set aside for myself. I wasn’t even hungry. I had no idea how he ate so much. He’d eat a roll every so often. I was able to refill his plate once more, and he ate that with the same amount of gusto. He got up the excess cheese that remained on the plate with the last roll.

“Fuck, that was just as good as I remembered.” He leaned back, placing his hands on his belly, rubbing it gently.

“Can—uh, can I do that?” I asked. He grinned.

“You don’t gotta ask,” he said, turning in the chair away from the table. He spread his legs, waiting for me. I went to the other side of the table as he pushed away from it. I knelt on the ground and rubbed his bloated gut, my hands traveling to his sides so I could squeeze the love handles pushed up by his underwear.

I moved toward his broad chest, squeezing the flesh there as well. Fuck, there was just so much of him. He was only wearing underwear, so I saw he was getting hard. I leaned forward, and began to kiss his belly, licking around his navel. His stomach tensed and relaxed.

“You like this gut?” he asked, his eyes closed.

“I love this gut,” I replied. His dick jumped in his underwear.

He stood, pushing me back slightly. I looked up from beneath his belly, and it made me think about that day at the bike racks a few months ago. I’d thought of him as a giant then, but compared to what I was looking at now, that version of Mason was minuscule.

Mason removed his dick from his boxers, and I leaned forward, resting my mouth at the base of his penis above his balls. I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of his skin after a shower. I licked his shaft slowly, raising a hand to feel the heft of his belly above me. It didn’t need my support, as it was a solid sphere that hadn’t gotten large enough yet to droop. I thought about that phrasing and it sent me to another level of arousal. Large enough yet. Mason would likely be bigger than this soon. 300 pounds was the point where most guys would fight to get their waistlines in check, but I knew Mason didn’t care about that. He’d want more, and I wanted to help him.

I heard him moaning above me, one of his hands grabbing my hair, the other on the side of his gut. “Fuck, Oli,” he grunted. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

I stopped and stood up.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said.

He agreed to head up to my room, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing me ravenously first. He loved kissing, and I definitely wasn’t against it, but we hadn’t moved yet. Mason was still kissing me. On my neck. My forehead. My cheeks. He reached for his penis, but I stopped him.

“Upstairs,” I reiterated.

He nodded. His eyes had that glazed over look again. He followed me to the staircase, and as I ascended, I heard the stairs creaking loudly as he heavily padded up after me.

I wanted to fuck him with all I had. Each time I wanted more and more to have the best sex ever, and each time it was the best sex ever. I didn’t know if it was because we were getting better at it or the fact that our relationship was becoming so much more serious, but whatever it was, I hoped it continued.

He pulled off his boxers and leaned over my desk, his beefy forearms resting on top. His strong legs were spread apart, and his knees were slightly bent. In this position, his stomach seemed more noticeable. It hung down, round and bloated. I wanted to cradle it in my hands from behind.

I slid on a condom and carried the lube over to where he was waiting for me. I covered my dick in the slick substance before gently massaging his hole. “I’m ready,” he breathed. “I want it, Oliver.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed onto one of his love handles as I led my member inside of him. This ass was everything. I’m pretty sure he worked it out extra hard because he knew I loved it so much. Seeing my hands cradling his meaty cheeks was unreal. I didn’t have abnormally large hands, but he had such a massive ass, they looked almost feminine. I pushed my entire dick inside of him, thrusting back and forth more forcefully than I had before. He moaned and moaned—saying my name, telling me how good it felt. I felt the tingle I came to expect wash over me. I wasn’t sure if it was endorphins or what, but I was close to finishing and feeling amazing.

He took a sharp intake of breath, shooting cum across the front drawers of my desk. I pushed hard a few more times. I’d never felt so good before. I came loads, my legs turning to jelly for a few moments, almost causing me to lose my balance. “Aw, fuck,” I managed to get out, grabbing his hips gently.

We moved over to the bed and laid back. His belly moved up and down.

“That gets better and better,” he panted.

“I was thinking the same thing.” He rolled over on top of me. I loved that, the weight of his fat body pressing into me. It was incredible. He just laid there, kissing my face and neck until I had to tap out. He rolled back over, smiling.

The next thing I remember was waking up. We’d fallen asleep. It was now around eight. I tried to shake him awake.

“Mason,” I said. “Mason wake up.”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled almost inaudibly.

“Mason,” I laughed, “You can’t stay here. Your parents will wonder where you are.”

“I don’t wanna get up,” he said into a pillow. “Let them wonder.”

“But our homework,” I said half-heartedly, also not in the mood to complete any schoolwork or send him on his way. I got up and checked my assignment book. Nothing was due tomorrow. I locked my door and got back in bed. He turned so I could place my head on his chest. He had his arm wrapped around me. I could have stayed like that forever.

Mason dozed back off almost immediately, but I laid awake thinking.

We only had a couple of months left in senior year. I’d gotten into my first-choice university and all of my safety schools, but there was definitely something that had me reconsidering going away to a four-year university. I didn’t really have any idea of what I wanted to major in. Nothing in the traditional sense was appealing to me. I didn’t want to be a teacher or a lawyer or a nurse.

Being with Mason reignited a passion that had laid dormant for years. I loved being in the kitchen and perfecting different recipes. Attending culinary school might be what I want to do post-graduation. It might have been youthful optimism, but I could see myself one day owning a restaurant.

Mason was going to the college thirty minutes from where we lived. I knew there was a program near him that was accredited and offered lots of opportunities for growth. I could feel myself getting excited by this idea. I hadn’t even been this excited opening up my college acceptance letters. This passion had to mean something. It just had to.

I could do it. I would do it! I’d always longed for a life outside of high school, and now I was starting to see that life more clearly. Even if the future was a mixed bag of possibilities, I knew one thing for certain.

I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Mason.

The End!

[mitigaters]

For @jesperandwylansittinginnatree :))) Exy Junkies plug at the end <3

“I’m telling you Andrew, this place is fucking haunted.”

Andrew was trying to ignore Kevin, he really was, but it was the fourth time that week he had said it. Kevin wasn’t a ‘believe in the paranormal’ type person so Andrew was growing more and more inclined to believe him. Kevin ignored the fact that Andrew was ignoring him and continued. 

“This is, without a doubt, one hundred percent, not the goddamn protein shake that I made. I do not drink the chocolate, it tastes like strawberry and you know how I feel about strawberry-” And god, did Andrew know, Kevin hated nothing more in life than strawberry flavored anything. He was an absolute nuisance about it. He said it was the main reason he liked men: they didn’t smell like strawberries. Apparently women did. “-and there were seeds at the bottom of my goddamn blender.”

“Maybe you got a shit supply of powder.”

Kevin glared at him. “It is powder, Andrew, I would have noticed if there were tiny black devil seeds in it.”

Andrew snorted and grabbed the blender to wash it. Sure enough, there were strawberry seeds inside. Weird. 

“So you jump straight to…haunted?” Andrew wiggled his fingers at Kevin for dramatic effect. 

“Yes for that reason and others.”

Andrew nodded, remembering Kevin’s other ‘experiences’. “Ah yes, the writing on the mirror after you shower, the changing of songs on your Spotify when you’re working out in my living room, the way you always manage to lose the controller in a four second span of changing the channel. All these things say to me is that you are at my house way too goddamn much. Also, if you’re using the Vitamix then you clean the Vitamix.” Said Vitamix being one of the first reasons Kevin started visiting. 

Kevin started grumbling about Andrew having better water pressure and a better air conditioner despite them having the same water pressure and the same central air. Andrew, again, ignored him. Kevin got quiet for a moment and Andrew knew exactly where his thoughts were going. He had known Kevin long enough to foresee it.

“It’s nearly Halloween.”

Andrew hummed in response. “I’m aware.”

“Are you- are you…I mean, do you-”

“Spit it out, Day.”

“Whatareyougoingtodothisyear?” A jumble of words fell from Kevin’s mouth, the embodiment of anxiety when it cmae to breaching certain topics with Andrew. Despite their long and tumultuous friendship, there was one thing Kevin knew as a fact: Andrew Minyard loathed Halloween. He was the type of teenager to kick pumpkins that he saw on the sidewalk.

Andrew avoided stores the entire month of October (except he enjoyed the day after Halloween when all that candy went on sale). He skipped social media, work, all of it- he couldn’t be bothered. His reasoning was nonexistent, it was just a holiday that he despised. Kevin stopped asking why years ago.

Andrew shrugged one shoulder, closing himself off to any further comment on the discussion. “Get out of my apartment, I’m going to bed.”

Kevin squinted at Andrew. “It’s 11am.”

“And my sentence still rings true.” 

Kevin huffed, grabbed his smoothie, left the dirty dishes for Andrew, and retreated back to his own apartment. Andrew ignored the sink that was now half full because Kevin measured out all of his ingredients in individual ramekins that he bought for Andrew claiming they were for him despite Kevin being the only one to ever use them. 

He stared at the ceiling as he laid in his bed and let his mind wander about Kevin’s implications. The signs were there, though Kevin paid attention and Andrew ignored them, as was his dominant personality trait: avoidance. As his eyes started to close, however, he heard stomping above his head which was odd considering he lived on the top floor. His complex consisted of him, Kevin, and 25 other old people so the odds of one of them being on the roof was slim. Andrew went up there frequently to smoke and had not once seen another soul up there.

He closed his eyes again. More stomping. He decided that was as good a time as any for a smoke break and rolled off of his bed.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

There was someone on the roof. Andrew could only see his back as he stood facing toward the city. Andrew felt like he was being pulled toward an edge that he didn’t go near due to his acrophobia. And yet…

“Are you going to kill yourself?”

The other man’s flinch was full body. He turned to peek over his shoulder and the color of his eyes almost shocked Andrew. Almost. 

“Me?”

Andrew squinted at him. He waved his hand around to indicate the lack of any other people on the rooftop. “Obviously.”

“You can - you’re-” 

“Can you at least do it elsewhere, you’re going to lower my property value.”

The redhead snorted. “You owe one of these shitholes?”

Andrew shook his head and tapped a cigarette out of his pack. “No. I do not own one of these shitholes. Do you own one of these shitholes?”

He rolled his eyes. “No.” He glanced at the cigarette hanging from Andrew’s mouth. “Can I have one?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“Nah,” He turned back toward the skyline. “I don’t smoke.”

Andrew lit his cigarette and stayed far away from the edge of the building though he couldn’t stray his eyes from the redhead teetering dangerously close to the edge. It was only another few minutes before Andrew said something about it.

“Can you maybe get the fuck away from there?”

He turned again, his eyes somehow bluer than the first time. “From the ledge?” He laugh, slow and soft. “Why? Nothing can hurt me, 6A.”

Andrew stared at him for a moment, realizing the nickname was his apartment number. He realized he has seen that red hair before hanging around his floor. “Asphalt hurts. Looks like it hurt you already.” Andrew tapped his cheek.

Ginger snorted. “Nah, that was a cigarette lighter. Asphalt burns are on my ass though..” 

Andrew scoffed and blew smoke toward him, the curls of off-white disappearing with the wind. “Who did you let get that close to your face with a cigarette lighter?” 

“I didn’t let her do shit,” His response was sharp. “Why?” But not as sharp as the grin he showed Andrew. “Does it make me ugly or something?”

“Nah.” Andrew shrugged. “I’d still blow you.”

His face changed instantly though Andrew didn’t know the other man well enough to know whether it was surprise or disgust. His face was so goddamn pretty that Andrew hoped it was the former. He blinked in surprise. He hadn’t thought of someone in that way since…well, a decade. The softness was gone after a short moment, however, and he cooled his expression.

“Oh.”

Andrew let out a soft huff of air and dropped his cigarette butt to the ground to stomp it out. He turned on his heel and went back to his apartment, sure that the pretty ginger haired boy on the roof was not going to cause a crime scene on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

Kevin was talking to the older woman that lived across the hall from Andrew in what Andrew called one of her weekly therapy sessions. She wasn’t a therapist, not anymore anyway, but she brought out a side of Andrew that nobody else had before and she knew far too much about him. They had hot chocolate sessions once every other week that could go hours and hours. 

Kevin liked to overshare which was how he and the woman, Bee, had initially met. Kevin was blabbing, which Andrew would typically ignore, but Bee mentioned something that he found interesting. 

“Oh, yes, I agree. There’s certainly something going on in this building. I thought it was just my memory as I was getting older-”

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Andrew interrupted, a frown pulling at the edge of his mouth. 

She waved his anxiety down. “Everything is fine, Andrew, I was telling Kevin here about the randomly appearing money.”

“The…” Andrew paused and glanced at Kevin who was paying far too much attention to Bee’s story. “Randomly appearing…money.”

Bee nodded. “Couch cushions, empty grocery bags under my sink, stuffed in hot chocolate boxes- money!”

“Money?” Was Andrew’s dry and confused reply.

“Money,  always a 50 dollar bill, never more, never less.” Bee explained.

Kevin was frowning but Andrew was…perplexed. If it was a ghost, it was a nice ghost? But bothered Kevin? He supposed it was still a nice ghost in that regard because Kevin was annoying and his presence wasn’t always wanted-

“Why do I get disgusting smoothies and you get money?”

Bee and Andrew both laughed at his expense, though Andrew’s amusement was internal. Bee patted him on the shoulder reassuringly and Kevin smiled, despite it all.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

“Andrew, have you seen my shoes?” Came Kevin’s greeting from Andrew’s front door.

Andrew stifled a sigh from where he sat in the middle of his couch, halfway through a pint of chocolate ice cream. He pointed upward and Kevin groaned. Andrew continued staring at his nearly empty ice cream container and he frowned at it. He didn’t recall eating that much. Kevin was yapping again so Andrew looked up with a glare.

“Would you shut the fuck up?”

Kevin ignored him. He was getting far too good at that. “Do you know how I know this was a ghost?” Kevin didn’t wait for an answer that wasn’t coming. “You are 5 foot nothing. There’s no plausible way that you would be able to reach this.”

“I have a step stool.” Andrew admitted, if only to prove Kevin wrong.

“You do not.”

Andrew jerked his thumb toward the kitchen. “Between the fridge and the wall.” Kevin checked and sure enough, he had a stepstool. Kevin glared at it as if chucking it out of the window would make his beliefs any less accurate. 

Andrew rolled his eyes. Now his ice cream was gone. Maybe there was a ghost. 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

Andrew saw him again, hanging outside of Bee’s unit. He had originally thought he lived there until he discovered it was in fact Bee that lived there. Bee didn’t seem to pay any mind to him. He even brought him up to Kevin but Kevin claimed to have not seen him before, though he barely saw Andrew most days due to his lack of peripheral vision.

At their fourth meeting, Andrew was starting to notice odd things about the ginger who lived somewhere in his building. He didn’t blink. Andrew thought he was crazy at first but the next time they were on the roof together, not conversing at all, Andrew studied him. He didn’t blink. Ever. Andrew had an eidetic memory, not quite photographic, but enough to be able to notice that that red-haired boy never blinked. He was far too jittery for Andrew to notice if he was even breathing or not but Adnrew assumed since he was alive, he would have to be breathing. Then again, the fact that it was reminiscent of Bella Swan in that one scene in that one movie that Andrew had not seen four times, was suspicious.

“Staring.” Andrew commented, not admitting that he was doing the same.

“Takes a starer to know a starer.” 

“Did that sound good in your head?” Andrew questioned, stubbing out his cigarette.

“It did. Did it sound good coming out of my mouth?” Ginger asked with a snarky grin.

“It did.” Andrew responded without missing a beat. “What’s your name?”

“Neil.”

“Aren’t you going to ask mine?”

Neil shook his head, turning back to stare at the skyline. “I’d rather you tell it to me freely.” 

That shocked Andrew. Andrew didn’t get shocked. “It’s Andrew.”

Neil side-eyed him. “That wasn’t me asking.”

“Maybe not, but it was me telling.”

Neil let out a sigh breath and nodded slowly. “Cool.”

Andrew glared at him for a moment then left the roof. 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

“How are you settling in?”

“I’ve been here for 9 months, Nicky.” Andrew responded dryly.

“Still!” Nicky insisted on the other end of the phone. “Have you met anybody who catches your eye?”

Andrew knew what Nicky was really asking and rolled his eyes. The fact that Neil came to his mind immediately pissed him off but he found his mind wandering regardless. He rubbed his eyes roughly and realized Nicky was answer whatever question he just asked. 

“I don’t think so, why do you ask?”

“What?”

“I said, ‘why do you ask?’” Andrew repeated.

“Why do I ask what?”

“Nicky, for fucks sake.”

“Oh,” Nicky paused. “You were serious. You asked if I knew a blue eye red haired demon that seemed to live in your building. And I said I don’t. Why do you ask?” Then Nicky also caught up to the conversation and realized what he had asked Andrew to get that response. “Wait! Is that who you have a crush o-”

Andrew ended the call.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

Neil was on the roof again that evening. He gave Andrew a small smile as he approached, something he had been doing. 

“What unit do you live in?”

Neil blinked at him. “9F.”

“There’s a 9? And an F?”

“Yup.”

Andrew wasn’t sure that was true but he refrained from pushing it. “Have any interest in a movie marathon?”

“A movie marathon.”

“Horror movies.”

“A horror movie marathon.” 

“If you just repeat everything I say, I’m going to rescind the invite.” Andrew stated, staring at Neil.

“Now?” Andrew nodded. Neil gazed out at the skyline for another moment before looking back at him. “Okay.” 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

They’re 3 movies in when Andrew realizes Neil isn’t breathing. There’s no way. He seemed to have relaxed during the movie and forgot to be pretending to be human. He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe. He also hasn’t touched the popcorn or used the bathroom once. A zombie? No, he hadn’t made a move for Andrew’s brains. Vampire? Nope, he had seen him in the sun several times. Werewolf was possible, there wasn’t a full moon that week but Neil was pretty short for a werewolf. Plus, a red haired werewolf? Unlikely. 

“Staring.” 

Andrew blinked at him. “What?”

Neil side-eyed him. “You’re staring at me. Why?”

Andrew turned to the TV and popped a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. “I’m watching this movie.”

“Name it.” Neil deadpanned.

Andrew chewed thoughtfully. He had no fucking clue what they were watching it was…Night of the Living Something or The Hunted Something or Something- “Fuck off.” Neil snorted, turning his attention back to the movie. Andrew push the popcorn toward him, experimentally.

“Allergic.”

Andrew was staring at him again. “To what? Corn?”

“Butter.”

“There’s no butter on it.” Andrew stated, pushing the bowl closer.

“Salt.” Neil said instead.

“You’re allergic to salt.” Andrew deadpanned.

“Yup.”

“You could just say no.”

Neil turned to look at him as if the notion was out of this world. “Oh. Well then, no.”

Andrew took the bowl back.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

Andrew’s suspicions only heightened after that as Neil became more and more comfortable in his presence. He was walking into the building one evening when he spotted Neil on the roof. Andrew gave him a two-fingered salute in greeting and Neil grinned sharply at him. Andrew stepped into the foyer and pressed the button on the elevator.

The elevator opened and Neil was standing there.

Andrew stayed still for a moment but eventually stepped into the elevator. They didn’t speak as the elevator climbed floors, Andrew watched the numbers change. When they arrived at his floor, he turned to Neil and invited him over. Neil accepted, as he had been lately.

“You’re not human, are you?”

Neil stopped in his tracks from where he was headed to sit on Andrew’s couch and turned toward him. “What?”

“What are you?”

Neil laughed, his eyes shifting. He tried to play it off but he was clearly looking for an exit. Andrew would let him run, if he needed to, but Neil stayed put, his body relaxing.

“I’m-” Neil hesitated, looking around once more. He sighed. “I’m a ghost.”

“I fucking knew it.”

Neil blinked at him. “What?” Neil stared at Andrew as he listed off all of the reasons why he didn’t believe that Neil was human. “Oh. Shit you noticed all that?”

“Yes.” Andrew responded simply through narrowed eyes. “But you can sit on my couch? How can you do that?”

Neil shrugged. “I can manifest some semblance of what I guess could be called powers the closer we get to Halloween, otherwise I usually just sit on the roof.”

“What the fuck.”

“Yeah, it’s weird, but ever since you moved in here, on Halloween I’m able to be human. Well, I guess not human per se, but…my skin is warm.” Neil commented as he studied his own scarred fingers.

“What happens if you touch me right now?” Andrew couldn’t help but ask.

“Are you asking me to?” A nod. Neil blinked at him, slowly, watching him. Andrew’s eyes were brighter than usual, maybe with excitement. “Um. Okay. It’s gonna be weird though.” Neil stepped in front of Andrew and Andrew felt absolutely no presence from him. 

Neil held out a hand for Andrew to take, letting him initiate the contact (or lack thereof). Andrew reached his own hand out and placed in on top of Neil’s. He could feel….something. There was definitely something there.

Neil’s eyes widened. “What is that?”

“You tell me, Casper.” Andrew muttered back. He raised his hand slightly but he only felt a coldness as his hand passed through Neil’s.

Neil brought his hand back to his face and stared at it, rubbing his fingers together. “Weird.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Why do you start manifesting some semblance of powers near Halloween?”

Neil stared at him. “Because…it’s… Halloween… Is that really surprising?”

“Halloween fucking sucks.”

“Wrong opinion but okay. I draw energy from full moons as well, that’s when you usually see me. Or when I usually see you.” Neil said, his tone lowering a bit.

Andrew raised an eyebrow at him. “How many times have you seen me?”

Neil stared at the ceiling. “A few.”

“Liar.”

“A lot.”

“Exactly.”

“27 times. I’ve seen you 27 times.” Neil said with a huff. 

“That’s pretty stalker-like to know that.” Andrew points out, satire lacing his tone, but he changes the subject swiftly. “How’d you die?”

The look that passed through Neil’s face was only there for a second. Any other person wouldn’t have noticed it, but Andrew did. Neil turns to the side but Andrew waits patiently. It was a silent four minutes before Neil spoke.

“My dad caught up to me.” Andrew hums in response, knowing all too well the trauma of an abusive family. Neil continues. “He was the Butcher.” Andrew eyed him for a moment before the name registered, dumped somewhere in the back of his memories. 

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Do I have to-”

Andrew scoffs at the implication. “You don’t have to do anything, Neil. You didn’t have to even tell me-” 

“I know, I know,” Neil cuts Andrew off with a stern expression. “I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. End of story.”

“End of story.” Andrew murmurs.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

The next time they see each other, after Neil needing a trauma dumping related break from Andrew, is on Halloween. The clock strikes midnight and Halloween has begun. Neil knocks on Andrew door (pounds on his door because Andrew is asleep because again, midnight).

Andrew yanks the door open with a disgruntled, “What the fuck,” and Neil is to gleefully cheerful at Andrew’s bedhead to pay attention to his nasty mood. He pushes past Andrew and into his living room. 

“Happy Halloween, fucker!” Neil is dressed up, like an idiot but still dressed up, as who Andrew assumes is supposed to be Ron Weasley. Either that or Ed Sheeran, Andrew truly isn’t sure. 

Andrew turns slowly, very slowly, to scowl at Neil. Then he blinks. Blinks again. Blinks one more time. “Come here.”

Neil steps toward Andrew, their shoes inches from touching at the tip. “Yes, Andrew?”

“Happy Halloween.” Andrew murmurs as he hold a hand out in invitation. Neil takes it. He…takes it. “Holy shit.”

Neil shrugs as Andrew’s fingers glide over his hand. “It happens once every other month. I guess I’ve just never had someone to show it off to. Cool, huh?”

Andrew immediately withdraws his hand to flick Neil in the forehead. In his warm forehead. Neil winces and rubs the reddening spot where a lightning symbol is drawn which only confuses Andrew further.

“Ow, you fucker! What was that for?”

“Holy shit.” Andrew repeats. “You’re real.”

“I am today.” Neil murmurs, eyeing Andrew. “Stop making it weird.”

“I’m not making it weird.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You a- dude. Fuck off. Wanna watch a movie?” Neil suggests, already on his way to Andrew’s couch.

“Fine. Asshole.” Andrew relents easily and falls onto the couch next to Neil, knowing full well he will be fast asleep in 30 minutes or less. "Also... are you supposed to be Ron Weasley?"

Neil huffs and crosses his arms. "I'm Harry Potter."

"You're really not." Andrew points out. "That is specifically Ron's wand, complete with the tape after it was broken by the Whomping Willow."

"What the fuck is a Whomping Willow?" Neil mutters, still in denial that he has all the pieces of a Ron Weasley costume. "This is Harry Potter, isn't it?" He scowls as he lifts the fringe on his forehead to show the scar that appears to have been drawn with eyeliner. 

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Andrew asks. Neil hesitates and Andrew has his answer. "You haven't even read Harry Potter, have you?"

"I thought it was a movie." Neil says, scratching his false scar. One would think that someone with so many actual scars would draw a fake one better.

"You haven't even watched it?!"

Neil points at his face. "Ghost, remember? I don't really have a choice of what I consume."

Andrew makes a face. "Wait, how old are you?" Before Neil can answer, to his increasing dismay, there’s another knock on his door. “Kill me now.”

“I can, ya know. I have hands now.” Neil says as he stands to, for whatever reason, answer Andrew’s door. “Kevin is here.”

Kevin stares down at the pint sized redhead answering Andrew’s door. “Who in the fuck.”

Neil walks away, leaving the door open, and plops down next to Andrew who does not look up at him as he introduces Neil the Friendly Ghost. 

Kevin narrows his eyes for a moment but enters Andrew apartment anyway. “Whatever. Are you going to Nicky’s party tonight?”

“No.” Neil answers. 

Kevin gapes at him. “I was not talking to you.”

“Weird.” Neil responds as he flips through the selection of horror movies. “Could’ve sworn you were.”

“Why would I be talking to you?” Kevin asks as he settles onto the couch, much to Andrew’s dismay.

“That’s kind of rude. You come into Andrew’s house as a guest and you don’t address his other guest? I guess i assumed you were a better person than that.” Neil clicks on something that he knows Kevin has been scared of before (due to his previous ghost-like snooping).

“For the love of God, change this. Now.” Kevin says, pressing himself back into the cushions as Andrew snorts from his burrito corner.

“I shall absolutely not do that, but I will take your suggestion into consideration for future impromptu movie nights at Andrew’s apartment.” Neil responds, kicking his feet onto Andrew’s coffee table. He is immediately jabbed in the thigh for it and he lowers them and chuckles at a quiet ‘holy shit’ he hears from Andrew.

“I don’t think I like you.” Kevin states, reaching for the remote.

Neil moves it out of his way. “I don’t think I like you either, You know what’s better than you? Strawberries. God, I love strawberries. Andrew, do you have any strawberries?”

Kevin turns to him slowly. “Andrew, who in the fuck is the abomination sitting on my spot on the couch?” 

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, Kevin.” Neil says as he tosses a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. “I love popcorn so much.”

Andrew side eyes him. “You can eat?”

“Yes, Andrew, I can eat.” Neil responds as he takes another mouthful.

“Why wouldn’t he be able to eat? Is he a ghost or something?” Kevin asks with an eyeroll.

Neil and Andrew share a long look that Kevin either does not see or completely ignores (it’s the latter). The movie was scary, Kevin screamed four times, Andrew fell asleep, and Neil enjoyed three entire bowls of popcorn.

[pastelpousay]

“Ask the Girl”

A/N: Fun fact I wrote this entire thing on paper 🙈 I’m so silly right 😋😽 I mostly wrote this so I can get used to writing them interact before I work on the second chapter which should be done by Late October if I lock in but yayyyyy Hadina content!!

Warnings: thoughts of self doubt, slightly ‘possessive’ thoughts (from Hades of course what else could you expect) kind of ooc Hades, this is really really long 😭but that’s it I believe.

For the longest time now, Rina has had a massive crush on Hades, and with how well he was able to read people— he sure as hell took notice after at least a couple months. It was so incredibly obvious, the fact he hadn’t noticed her behavior sooner damn near made him want to laugh out loud. How had he not realized? All the signs were there; she did everything he asked without much question, always taking over his work when the both of them were far too tired to, her mood boosting practically any time she saw him. All this on top of the general respect, kindness and compassion she showed towards him. She had never did any of that out of fear of him, he could look into her eyes and tell how utterly sincere she was and gods— that look she gave him was just everything to him. It was sweet like honey yet soft as the clouds on Olympus. Gods it just made the man melt, but oh- did it irritate him so. That lovey dovey feeling in his chest whenever the two of them held eye contact made his nonexistent heart thump. Why did he feel this way? It make him feel so…weak.

Hades took a moment to lean back in his office chair as he let out a rather exasperated sigh. He couldn’t believe this was happening right now, what the hell was wrong with him? As of recent he had been a bit on edge, how had Rina not noticed his so obvious advances? It practically drove the God mad. Was she that obvious with her feeling and that oblivious to his? You’d think an offer to be a God’s plus one to an Olympic party would be enough to get the point across, but apparently not. Perhaps he had misinterpreted her behaviors into something he would rather it be than just plain kindness.

‘I’m overthinking all this- I need forget about it— besides I’m Hades, lord of the dead. I don’t need to be worried over such a nonsensical thing— it’s only a little rejection, no biggie.’ Hades sat there for a moment thinking it over. Had she actually rejected him? Why was he even still thinking about this— he had work to do, he didn’t need to be stressing over something as futile this.

Hades sat forward in his chair, attempting to reassure himself that rejection was no big deal, he was so used to it after all.

But, it was a big deal to him, it really was. He could lie to anyone else about that but not to himself. He hated that feeling more than anything else in the world, and to be rejected…rejected by Rina…it felt like a stake to the heart. Soon enough the poor God began to overthink more and more as seconds passed by, the papers on his desk collecting dust at this point.

Maybe he had misread her kindness as a sign that she had been harboring feelings for him, perhaps she were like that with everyone? That thought…oh boy did it make his blood boil. He knew Rina was a kind soul but, he had to be the only one Rina acted like this with, that gave him little offerings, that smiled at him so warmly, that spoke to him in such a kind and sincere way. Because in his somewhat

‘sick and twisted’ mind she was his and he was hers, and it would have the stay that way. Dare he saw her that close with anyone else and he’d lose his damn mind.

‘…my gods— I’m starting to think Aphrodite might have something against me with all this bullshit.’ Hades thought to himself, trying to provide reason for all these thoughts and feelings that plagued him. Trying to ignore them was pointless— he just couldn’t get that girl out of his head.

He had to be honest with himself…he wanted to go to that party with Rina, badly. He didn’t even want to go to the party if he were being honest. He just wanted to be with her, not doing any work, hell— they didn’t even have to be talking he just wanted to be next to her, holding her, looking into those gorgeous big brown eyes of hers and practically drowning in them. That’s all he wanted…he wanted her. And if he wanted her, then oh boy was he gonna have her.

Now Hades really wasn’t focused on his work. Perhaps he needed a break, or was that just an excuse to run into Rina?

‘Holy fuck I needs some coffee—‘

…☆…

All day Rina had been running back and forth from her chores and her usual tasks. She had been hyper-focusing on cleaning the kitchen since Pain and Panic decided they were ‘above doing dirty work.’ Gods- as much as she loved the two, the fact she had to work twice as hard because the other two were slacking off. She honestly couldn’t care less not though, she were far too tired to and cleaning wasn’t much of a big deal to her anyways, well…compared to the usual work she was given so she didn’t mind it all too much.

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been looking over at the doorway the entire time…waiting for a certain someone to make his entrance in the room. She knew he was probably busy but this had to be the area where the two ran into each other the most— at least when he hadn’t called upon her.

‘Whatever— need to get back to work anyways.’ She waved the thought away as she continued mopping, thinking mindlessly as she did. What was that girl thinking about? Was she even thinking at all? The thoughts began to start flooding to her again. They always did it’s like they were haunting her, taunting her with something she didn’t even think she deserved.

What even was it about him? That charm, the jokes he made that always had her giggling, his so honest behavior that she dearly appreciated. Why was she so stuck on Hades in the first place? The thought of him being near her made her legs feel like led, she couldn’t help but hate and love that feeling all at once.

Then she thought back to when he asked her to go to that party with her…why did she say no?

Rina was well aware that she lacked most basic social skills and were far too nervous to talk to people unfamiliar to her— especially the gods but, wouldn’t it be worth it to at least have a reason to be with him other than just sorting papers?

Seems this girl had jinxed herself quite a bit, because the very man she had been thinking of had just walked in.

She could already tell it was him thanks to the hollowness in the walls of his abode, you could practically hear a hair drop from a mile away.

“Hey, you’re…cleaning? Again? I swear I saw you mopping in here two days ago—“

Hades inquired.

“Oh, yeah- yeah I was. I’m just in here trying to tidy up a bit” Rina explained.

“Yeah, yeah, because mopping the entire kitchen floor is definitely just ‘tidying up’.” He said chuckling a bit at her explanation as he walked past her.

“Well I would like for it to stay as clean as possible.” She responded in a slightly agitated tone, usually if it were anyone else he would have something to say but the sound of Rina’s rather quieted voice saying it amused him to no end.

“You neat freaks I swear—“

“Hey! I can’t help that I like it clean! Besides it’s nice, and it keeps everything in an organized manner.” She said with a huff in her voice.

“Shall we take a look at your room?”

“We shall not—“

“Mhm, thought so.” Hades said smiling, rolling his eyes a bit at her amusing antics.

“Coffee, at this hour?” Rina asked pausing for a moment tilting her head, she seemed a bit tickled at this behavior, not that it was unusual per say but it was only half past 2 by this point.

“I need something to keep me awake, I shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night” Hades said as he started fixing himself some coffee.

“Heh— what time did you go to bed?” She inquired.

“Maybe 3-2am give or take.” Rina looked at him like he had committed several war crimes. She knew he was a god, and probably used to staying up so late but— to go to bed for two hours before getting up was an insane idea.

“How- why— how does one do that?” she said giggling a bit, not even because she thought it was necessarily funny but rather from the pure absurdity of it.

“No clue, I’m honestly surprised I didn’t pass out when I got up today.” Hades said turning to her as he let the water in the coffee pot heat up, Rina shook her head at his words continued with her cleaning.

He kinda loved these little moments, where the two of them didn’t have to be endlessly working— well they were supposed to be, or rather he was at least. But he liked talking to her, as much as she made his cold black heart feel like it was beating out of his chest, speaking with her calmed him, it was nice. The two of them were rarely ever serious, most of the time it was just playful back and forth bickering or just the two joking. Gods he loved it. He adored hearing the sound of her voice, the way their eyes met when he was talking to her, he just couldn’t get enough of it.

Then he began thinking back to his earlier thoughts, about that ‘date.’ Perhaps he hadn’t made it clear enough? Maybe he wasn’t forward enough or perhaps too much. Although a thought popped into his mind…Should he ask, again?

“Sooo— how was work so far? Boring as ever I assume?” Rina said, breaking the silence that had momentarily fallen over them. Hades quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts, although he still wondered if he should go through with it but, he needed a plan.

“Oh yeah, yeah. Boring…, y’know nothing gets me going like a good pile of paperwork.” Hades chuckled to himself before taking a sip out of his cup.

Rina only shook her head, giving a small chuckle before proceeding with her task, that silence returned yet again leaving Hades to return to that dreadful place, his office.

…☆…

“Okay boys…” Hades started, taking a pause as he paced back and forth in front of his desk. The two imps in front of him anxiously waiting for what he was about to say next. It had been almost a full 48 hours since Hades finally decided to stop lying to himself about the emotions he were experiencing, all the while He had been silently questioning himself whether or not he had been correct about Rina’s affections for him, or if he should even attempt to ask her out one last time before he finally accepted he was probably gonna be alone for the rest of his; sad, miserable, eternal life. Or at least that’s what he would’ve gotten from that.

Hades had managed to practically drag the two imps out of bed, they were both still half asleep by this point, but as a alert as they could possibly be with the confusion and all.

“Uhh— sir, it’s 3:50 almost…we usually don’t get started till 4 y’know—“ Pain finally begged to question, pausing to check if what he said would upset Hades or not, and we’ll…it didn’t seem to. There he was, still pacing back and forth deep in thought.

“Ya think he’s okay?” Panic whispered to Pain, almost nudging him a bit.

“Hell no—“ Pain whispered back before continuing.

“Look boss, what we’re askin’ is—“

Hades interrupted “I know, I know it’s early boys, but work with me here,” he said sighing a bit leaning back on his desk before continuing.

“I need to know— and since Rina doesn’t shy away when talking to you two idiots—“ He said the last bit in a quieted tone, trying his absolute hardest not to roll his eyes. “I gotta ask…does Rina like, y’know…how does she view me? What’s her view on me? Just out of plain curiosity.” Hades asked crossing his arms as he waited for the pair to respond. He usually wouldn’t shy away from asking a question outright but knowing that Pain and Panic had a tendency to spill out secrets that weren’t to be shared, he couldn’t…especially when Rina was the only other person there to be told anything of the sort, especially if it were about her.

Pain and Panic paused at the question, blinking for a bit and doing a double take…did he really just ask them that? He could’ve asked Rina that himself so why was he up so early worrying them over it?

“Uhm, I mean…she likes you of course.” Pain answered confused at his question,

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious.” Panic followed up.

“No— I know she likes me, but…look—“ Hades let out an exasperated sigh

“We aren’t getting anywhere with this,” he said rubbing his forehead a bit, he already knew beating around the bush wouldn’t help, considering how balloon headed his two lackeys were. If he had to risk Rina finding out about his plan, so be it. He’d be asking the girl out later anyways.

“Rina’s not like…Secretly engaged or something, right?” Hades questioned further. Pain and Panic exchanged glances before looking back at Hades.

“T-that’s what all this is about?” Panic asked, looking a bit baffled. Did he really get them up at almost 4am just to ask if Rina had a crush on him, did he not understand that she obviously did?

Well the thing is he did know, it was painfully obvious she treated him far different than anyone else, and he knew it couldn’t have been out of plain fear, she was far too kind. The doubt in the back of his mind seemed to have crept in however, he had been thinking maybe…he read her actions as something else entirely.

He waited, in an almost anxious manner for the two imps to say something else.

“Can you just tell me if she actually likes me or not?! goddamn it—“ He further restated his question, more than a bit firm this time. She had to have told them about her feelings, if she really did like him like had assumed before…right? They just had to know right?

“…sir it’s incredibly obvious.” Panic finally responded

“Mhm, very.” Pain relayed

“You’re sure?”

Pain and Panic nodded exhaustedly

“Okay, but— you’re sure, you’re sure?”

“Yes!” The two of them exclaimed getting pretty irritated at Hades rather oddly nervous behavior…okay who the hell was this god and what happened to the real Hades?

“You feelin’ alright, boss?”

“Yeah, you seem a bit on edge..?” The two said exchanging worried glances before looking back at Hades again, who has right now about ready for formulate a plan to ask the woman he so dearly cherished out on a date.

“Oh please— I’m fine,” Hades said rolling his eyes as he smirked a little, finding the question rather random, although it was only warranted with how off he had been acting. Gods- he had been getting really desperate again. Who knew it would only take two days for his desperation to truly shine.

“Alrighty then, boys! Time for daddy to start courtin’!” Hades said rubbing his hands together before walking over to a chalk board, just left of the table. Oh gods.

‘Holy Hera-ing fuck- he has this planned to a T.’ Pain and Panic announced to themselves simultaneously. Figuring that he had everything planned out with this oddly new found confidence.

“Did he have too much ambrosia today?”

“He sure is acting like it—“ Pain responded, in a rather comically concerned manner.

The pair watched as their boss turned the chalk board around with it now facing them. Surprisingly it was blank, nothing was on there yet. At least he wasn’t up all night scribbling on the board over some date like a complete psychopath.

“See, the reason I called you in here is because—“ Hades paused, dragging out the last bit of the word with a wavering tone of uncertainty. So…he didn’t have it planned out, at all.

“I need your help…quite obviously I have not a clue what to do for a date, ya feel?”

“You want us to…come up with an idea?”

“Yes you dumbass- look, just throw me an idea, I’ll do what I can and guess who’ll be setting it up” Hades said in a sing-song voice, and with a faux toothy smile to go along with it.

“Us?” Pain and Panic said in unison

“You sure as hell will be— now c’mon boys…ideas? Hello, hello, hello—“ he restated trying to get the pair back in focus.

“I dunno— I mean…it’s Rina we’re talking about, she doesn’t really like uhh— stuff all over the place y’know?” Pain answered tilting his head.

“I know, that’s why I’m asking you two imbeciles.” Hades said with his patience slipping a bit more than it already was.

“Just— look, y’know what don’t give me a specific idea, just tell me what type of date you’d think she’d like to go on.” Hades said, basically further simplifying the question he had already asked the two.

‘This is exactly why I don’t ask for advice.’

“Uhm uh, well…Rina isn’t much of a tough customer,” Pain paused as Panic followed up

“Yeah! She’s more of a ‘sit down and have picnic.’ type girl than anything else.”

“Hmm I see…” Hades said nodding his head along a bit, trying to come up with a date idea, but he knew he needed plan of action to actually ask the girl out.

“How about a stroll out next to the Styx! That sounds fun!” Panic said enthusiastically, whilst attempting to keep Pain, who was barely even awake to begin with, up and at em’.

“Huh— oh yeah! So fun, whooo whooo… whooo…” Pain said in a tired voice before mentally and physically clocking the hell out, and using Panics shoulder as a pillow cushion.

“Fine, fine, whatever. I can make do with that…alrighty then boys, see you in…,” Hades paused again, looking like he was debating on something almost

“I’m feelin’ generous today, you have an hour before you two need to get haul assin’ so, take with that what you will.”

Hades said dismissing the two of them as Panic rushed out, dragging Pain along with him.

As soon as Pain and Panic had left the room Hades let out a sigh of relief.

‘Oh gods— how in Zeus’ name am I gonna ask her?’ Hades thought to himself, rubbing his left temple as he sat down on his desk behind him. He had to ask her out, he just had to. That and his feelings of uncertainty towards Rina’s feelings for him, had practically been eating away at his mind for the past 2 or so days now. God— he felt like such a creep doing this but he couldn’t be stopped he wanted Rina, and badly. He needed to know that she had in fact liked him back, and even though he knew Pain and Panic were far too stupid to lie to him about such, he couldn’t help but wonder,

Had she them fooled as well? What if they figured no better than him previously?

Only Rina’s answer to Hades’ big question would truly be the thing to tell.

…☆…

Now here he sat, waiting. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to see if his assumption on his darling assistants feelings were true, waiting for the perfect moment to finally ask her out.

Some hours had passed since he finally planned this entire thing out— although he didn’t plan too much, he knew he didn’t need to go all out with it, it was just a date not a wedding ceremony, it’s not like he was gonna propose…so there was no need to be so nervous over it right? Right. It was only ten past twelve, and Rina had been on her break time as of right now, as she had been doing paperwork up until then. Hades had dismissed her a while ago, as he couldn’t focus much with her right in front of him, he was never able to to begin with but, now more than ever it seemed.

He was getting antsy now, should he ask now? Was it too early? Wrong time, wrong place? It’s not like he had many other options other than this one break they had in the day, so he knew he had to go for it now, If not Hades figured he might as well forever hold his peace.

‘Fuck it— I’ll just ask her now.’

Hades quickly got up from his chair, and headed out of his office looking for Rina. He didn’t have time to debate over it now, sure he could wait, but he didn’t want to. If Hades wanted something he was going to have it no matter what. Even if that something was Rina, he’d have to have to at least try. Rina usually at this time would be in the kitchen, getting a snack after all the work she had done, or somewhere in the library, checking out some of the old scrolls in there just out of plain curiosity. He had figured the latter since she had left a while ago, so he headed off to the library although he was sure to pass by the kitchen, just in case she had actually been there.

Hades finally made his way there, opening the doors rather slowly, being sure not to alert her too much if she were really there. The library was big, but not too huge, it was mostly just a maze of bookshelves and scrolls that had been tucked away, and covered in dust. He knew Rina had always liked to sit in the very back, in one of the chairs, so he slowly inched his way over there before spotting her just beyond an empty top of a shelf, curled up in one of the chairs reading a book. He nearly froze up when he saw her. She hadn’t noticed him yet thankfully, she practically had her nose buried in the book she was reading. She looked so at peace however, it oddly almost warmed his cold and empty heart, it always did truly but, he wasn’t just here tp sit here and admire her, unfortunately. He had something to do.

“Knock, knock, knock~” Hades said in a sing-song-y voice again as he knocked on the side of the shelf ye had been standing behind momentarily.

Rina looked up, finally noticing the tall, dark, and fiery god that was her boss.

“Oh— hi, hello, sorry! I was reading.” Rina said closing her book up, chuckling to herself a bit.

“You’re all good babe, don’t worry. I uh…psh— I just came here to ask you something is all…” Hades said awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, doing his best to calm himself down. Not like he were going to let himself freak out in front of her— oh gods no. The anxious, nervous behavior he had been so scared of exhibiting…he couldn’t have Rina notice that, just yet.

“Oh, really? What is it?” Rina asked tilting her head off the the side a bit as she sat there waiting, listening intently.

“…do you…I wanna like, hmm, I dunno— want a break?”

“I am on break…”

“That’s…that’s not what I meant,” Hades said laughing a bit awkwardly, as he looked down at the ground, refusing to meet Rina’s gaze.

“I mean do you wanna go…out?” Hades went a bit silent, the faint, light hearted smile still being shown on his face as his dark eyes finally meeting Rina’s warm chocolate ones, the look and his eyes held nothing but anticipation and anxiety.

“Can you…be more specific please?” Rina giggled a bit, unsure of what he meant…or perhaps she did know what he meant, or what it could mean rather. Did he really just ask her that? Had he? Or maybe she were misunderstanding

‘Maybe he meant something different?’

“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow, sir—“ Hades cut her off.

“You don’t— you don’t have to call me sir, please…Catarina…you know exactly what I mean.” Hades said, their eyes practically locking at this point, as if they were trying to read each other, like a book almost.

“…you mean us, go out? Like—“

“Yes, just you and me. No body else. Just us, that’s all I want.”

“You’re not like trying to—“

“Rina, I’m asking you out on a date, I’m not trying to do anything but be with you.”

‘Did I really just fucking say that?’

Hades internally cringed as he then noticed the silence that had fallen over them. Rina’s eyes went wide, well now she knew for certain that’s what he was asking, and it’s not like she couldn’t just not answer his question.

“Uhm— I-… I’m sorry,” hades let out a stifled chuckle “I’m sorry I didn’t—“

“I would love to go out with you” Rina said fully closing her book as she gave him a content smile.

“Excuse me?” Hades said confused, asking her to repeat again,

“I said, I would love to go on a date with you, is that not what you asked?” Rina said getting a bit cheeky now, almost teasing him a bit but she was far too slick with it for her own good.

“…” Hades went silent for a moment.

“Really?”

“Yes, I mean it”

‘Holy fuck that was easy, I didn’t even have to bribe her!”

“Well, okay then,” Hades started as he straightened out his robes.

“I’ll uh- I’ll have Pain and Panic come get you at six O’ clock— sharp. I’ll see you then, you can have the rest of the day off it ya want.” Hades said contently, as he turned away to leave, Rina watching in surprise as he did. Rina opened her book again before bending over and putting her head in her lap and in her book. She sat in a fetal position almost, doing her best to suppress the smile that almost spread across her features.

‘Did that just happened?’

Rina questioned to herself she almost couldn’t possibly believe it, no one had ever went out of their way to ask her out, especially not someone who she enjoyed the presence of so dearly. Perhaps she had finally gotten what she wanted…she had won.

…☆…

As the hours in the day passed, it finally hit six O’ clock. The anticipation was practically killing Rina from the inside out. She had been in the bathroom that both her and Hades shared, doing her best to look at least half or more presentable than she usually did, but nothing too fancy. It was just a date after all its not like he asked her to marry him or anything— then again it’s not like she’d be all too opposed to that idea either.

‘I wonder where we’re going?’ Rina thought to herself. ‘Damnit— I should’ve asked him that! Ugh— mm..it’ll be okay I guess, at least I’ll be spending time with him’ Rina thought, smiling to herself as she finally finished fixing up her hair, pulling down a small coily strand with her finger as she let it go and watched it bounce back up.

Soon enough she had left the bathroom. Where the hell were Pain and Panic? They were supposed to come and get her right about now. She quickly shrugged it off, figuring they were probably on their way anyways.

Rina continued walking a bit further away from the bathroom, not to anywhere in particular, she was more so just wandering about as she waited for the pair of imps to finally make their appearance. Oh boy soon enough, they sure as hell would.

As Rina continued on walking for a bit longer she felt a presence from behind her, was it Hades? She had noticed it before after she had left the bathroom, however she wasn’t expecting it to pop up right behind her, and sure as hell didn’t expect to go and snatch her up and blindfolded out of basically nowhere.

“Augh— hey! Lemme go!” She exclaimed as she struggled against the person who had been obstructing her view with a cloth.

“Whoa— calm down sister!”

“Yeah, quit— quit strugglin’!”

Rina almost deadpanned on the spot as soon as she heard those voices, gods— of course it had been them, none others Pain and Panic. How had she not figured that? Rina stopped her struggle as the Blue and Red imps finally finished tying her blindfold

“…so— mind telling me what the freakidy fuck is this about?” Rina said crossing her arms, which usually they’d take pretty seriously but now they honestly couldn’t be bothered to.

“The boss asked us to.” Pain stated like it was no big deal. Rina would’ve rolled her eyes at this but she didn’t bother to, as she thought it didn’t matter if they couldn’t see it.

“Okay, well, why am I being blindfolded? Where the hell are we even going to anyways?” Rina asked as she lifted a brow, confused you the situation, as pain and panicle began leading her somewhere.

“You’ll see in a bit…”

Pain and Panic said in unison, it was almost a bit uncanny, although she payed it no mind. It hadn’t mattered, and either way she was more concerned about where she we’re going, as well as hoping for Hades to be there waiting for her.

…

Soon enough Rina had finally arrived to said date location, she, to be frank had no clue where she was at. She had been blindfolded before she even arrived, and hadn’t been paying much attention to where they were headed. The half of it was a complete blur, and her excitement to actually be going on a date with the man of her dreams seemed to be overpowering her emotions of curiosity about wherever the hell she were at right now.

Pain and Panic finally let go of her hands before turning to finally leave. Rina overheard some of their chattering as they walked off, likely back to the cold, dark, and gloomy underworld.

“Ugh— they grow up so fast” one of them said from off in the distance, she couldn’t help but giggle a bit at their little comment. Rina started to take off her blindfold before another presence seem to pop up from behind her,

“Sorry ‘bout all that, babe. Hopefully they didn’t freak you out too much.” Hades said, startling her a bit as he began helping her take off the cloth from around her eyes.

Rina hadn’t said anything just yet, soon the blindfold was off and her eyes became adjusted to the scenery around her. She knew it, the air didn’t feel warm and dense like it did in the underworld, the breeze was cool and refreshing, and the wind flowing past the many trees that were surrounding the river in front of her, the sounds of the water rushing past the rocks in the river, all of it was music to her ears. He had taken her back home, back on earth.

Her eyes soon trailed down to the very lake she stood In front of, taking in the sight of it and the reflection of the red colored sun that was still sparkling in the ever deepening blue shy, the gorgeous evening scene and the colors Rina so enjoyed, it gave her peace.

“Thought I’d take you out of the underworld some time soon y’know, figured you’d gotten homesick.” Hades said as he lightly placed a hand on her shoulder, waiting for her to finally say something— although she did admittedly looked rather shocked as she gazed upon the beautiful scenery.

“This is— this is so…gorgeous,” Rina said softly still taking in the scene before she turned to look at him, giving him a warms smile. He took in the red and orange colors of the sun shining on her almond skin and deep brown eyes, holy hera she looked like a dream.

“Thank you so, so much for taking me here.”

“Not a problem babe— oh, and I’ve got one more thing I wanna show you,” Hades put out his hand, silently offering for her to take it. Rina hesitated for a moment, what could he possibly have to show her that could make this little date of theirs any better?

Rina gave him her hand, silently taking note of how much larger his hands were compared to hers, she had noticed a while ago— and gods, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t make her heart beat a least a little bit faster. Hades quickly look her hand in his, rather macro-scaled, palm. He began leading her over through the grove of trees, and further down the bubbling river. She kept her eyes on the water, watching as the copper suns light hit it, although she did glance back up at Hades a few times throughout.

“You see that light up top?” Hades said breaking the calming silence. Rina looked over at him a bit confused by what he meant, before she looked forward, a bit further over in the bunches of trees.

She hadn’t seen anything yet, no light other than the ever sinking sun in deepening darkness of the sky.

“I’m not seeing anything…I don’t get it, what light?”

Hades let out a breathy chuckle before replying,

“Mmm you’ll see em’ soon babe, you’ll love it just know it.”

As they continued, Rina spotted some light coming from up above in the trees, along with a boat along the shore of a small pond the river had lead up to. It wasn’t a large boat, but it was big enough for two, and it even had two seats with cushions on them, pretty fancy, in Rina’s book at least.

Rina stopped momentarily for a moment taking in the sight in front of her. The golden light from the trees now shining in the darkness of the night that had just begun, she started walking over the the small grove of trees around the pong, looking a little closer at the golden tree leaves. It wasn’t just the shining tree leaves however, it was clusters upon clusters of gleaming golden blossoms that resided there. Gosh— they almost looked like stars.

Hades looked at Rina’s starry eyed gaze as she looked at the scenery, finding it a bit endearing if he were being honest. He kept her hand in his, although her rather small one began to slip so he intertwined her pinkie in his. Gods— she was just so sweet he almost couldn’t handle it.

“These are beautiful…, what are they?”

Rina said, her gaze never breaking the golden glow of the starry flowers that had captivated her.

“I’m not too sure actually,” Hades started, letting out a slightly amused laugh at Rina’s fascination.

“They call em’ Star Lily’s or something, I believe, I thought you’d like em’.”

“I do— they’re lovely,” Rina said looking back at him momentarily, with a small smile on her face.

“Uhh, what’s that boat for? It’s not for us is it?”

“What— I thought it would be nice to just…I dunno- sit on the water and talk y’know. You don’t get sea sick or anything do ya’?”

“No, no—I’m not I just didn’t, I mean I did but uhm—“

“What? You wanted to take a dip in the pond?”Rina let out a small chuckle at his comment.

“No! I just, I mean I uhm…I didn’t expect it is all…,”

“Do you not wanna?” Hades raised a brow, asking genuinely a bit confused by all Rina’s worried rambling.

“No, I do! I do, I’m sorry—it’s just…I don’t wanna fall in.” Rina said chuckling, covering up her face a bit from the embarrassment, but there was nothing she said that was really embarrassing. Perhaps she said if wrong?

“Sorry— I’ve…I’ve never been on a date before I don’t know how to—“

“You’re just fine, babe. Just relax, and take a load off. Just be happy we aren’t out here doing paperwork” Hades said laughing as he walked over to the boat with Rina, as she took a slightly tighter grip of his hand.

“You wanna get in first?”

“Hm? Oh sure uhm…how do I get in without it y’know…tipping over?” Rina said holding her free hand up to her chest as she looked over the boat. Hades shook his head at this with a smile as he kept her hand in his and help it up, guiding her into the boat.

“There you go m’lady.” He said chuckling a bit as she finally stepped in and sat down.

“Don’t call me that,” Rina said deadpanning a bit almost, despite the small grin spreading on her face.

“uhm…well..now what?”

“Hmm…uhh— we’ll see, just— give me a sec to figure this out, will ya’.” Hades finally let go of her hand as he stood up, and put a finger up to his chin. Thinking about how the hell he was actually gonna get this boat into the water, along with himself.

…

About 15 minutes later of Hades completely embarrassing himself and almost falling in the water— at last they were both finally in the boat.

Hades let out a rather loud sigh as she finally relaxed in his seat, leaning forward a bit closer to Rina.

“Goddamn—“ Hades said relived, just before turning to look at Rina who was doing her very best not to giggle.

“Oh c’mon, babe— don’t laugh at me now,”

“I’m not, I’m not, it’s just—“ Rina finally let out a laugh, giggling as she put her head down to her knees as she did.

“You almost fell in—“

“Oh you are just too tickled about that, aren’t you?” He lifted a brow, laughing along with her.

“So…,” Rina finally stifled her laughter before she continued,

“Now that we’re in this boat…now what?”

“Mmm, I’m not sure…”

Hades paused a moment, the both of them locking eyes once more. This moment felt like magic, the golden glow of the flowers reflecting in her warm eyes as they continued to drift down the pond and into the river. Rina eyes however kept trailing down towards Hades lips, but only for a second.

‘Are we about to kiss?’ Rina thought to herself as she looked back up at him.

“You have really pretty eyes…” Hades said smiling to himself.

“Huh-“

“They look they have stars in them,”

Hades went silent for a moment as he internally cringed once again.

‘Ew— did I just fucking say that?’

Rina smiled as she put a hand over her lips trying to hide it as she giggled a bit again.

“Um, thank you…I uh…I’m- I’m not sure what to say” Rina said with a huff while snickering a bit to herself.

“Yeah, I’m sorry—“ Rina swiftly cut him off.

“No, no, don’t apologize I appreciate it. Uhm…, I think you look handsome today…” Rina said with hesitations she looked away from him and down at the Running water just below them in embarrassment.

“Thanks, babe,” he paused before continuing on,

“So…your day so far?”

“Oh it was good, I uhm…I read.” Rina replied, her eyes fluttering up at him for a second before returning to focus of the water.

“Ohhh, she reads okay then. What have you been reading in the library anyways?”

“Uhm..books”

Hades practically bursted out with laughter at her rather vague response.

“What’s so funny?” Rina ask furrowing her brows a bit, seemingly offended and confused by his abrupt laughing

“None— nothing, babe. You’re just being a little silly is all.” He said in an amused huff.

“It’s not my fault! I dunno how dates work— I don’t even know why you asked me out of all people isn’t this supposed to be like romantic or something?…” Rina asked a bit frustrated and confused.

“Is it not romantic out here?”

“It is! I just dunno why you would ask me…?”

“Why not?” Hades asked chuckling, simultaneously getting on Rina’s nerves while he was at it.

“You’re not helping.” She crossed her arms as she sat back a bit in the boat away from him.

“Okay fine, fine,” He let out a sigh before he followed up,

“I mean what’s so bad about asking my assistant out on a date?”

“…do you want me to answer that?” Rina lifted a brow.

“No— look I- I dunno, if I could tell you I would but I just…look, I like ya’ enough to take ya’ out, or somewhere where we aren’t just doing paperwork.”

“…” Rina unfolded her arms, seemingly no longer upset, or not as upset as she was before.

“I could ask you the same y’know,”

“Hm?”

“Why you said yes?”

“I dunno…I mean a date with you doesn’t sound that bad…and I like being with you.”

Hades’ smile grew a bit whisper at her words.

“See you get it. I uh…sorry ‘bout all that—“

“It’s my fault I’m sorry, but let’s just enjoy our time here while we have it.” Rina said smiling as she took his hands in hers. Gosh— now that practically just warmed his heart, it damn near made him jolt, to say the least he hadn’t expected that.

‘Is she trying to make a move on me or…?’

Hades took in her hands, pulling her a bit closer to him.

“So…what do you wanna talk about?”

“Rina,” Hades announced sternly, making sure his eyes made contact with hers. She was giving him that look again, god how he loved her oh so dearly.

“What? I don’t know what to talk about…,”

“Y’know what people do when they have nothing to talk about on a date?

“What?”

Hades pulled her a bit closer, his hands now resting around her waist. Her nose and lips practically touching his, if they weren’t already that is, and before Rina was even able to realize what he was about to do, he leaned forward, with their lips finally meeting, much to Rina’s surprise.

She returned the kiss before they soon parted a moment afterward. Too bad heaven only lasted about 5 seconds, and Rina had been in complete surprise for at least half of them.

“Woah…”

Rina said before looking up at him again a small smile plastered on her face, more than ready to lean in for another kiss.

🍬Hi!! Thanks a lot for reading my story!! :3🍬hope you like it, I worked really hard on it!! :3. If you have any criticisms please let me know how I can improve my writing!! But other that I hope you enjoyed!!

Divs by @.Brokenhearted

[goldielia]

your whatever

a part of: call it what you want au

it’s a sunny day at the start of october when will feels anxious stepping into their little corner in the library. it’s not noticeable, really. he’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, she knows he’ll be going straight to practice after they hang out. he brings two coffees, one of which she knows to be her exact (and slightly complicated) order and his posture is relaxed as usual.

but there’s something about his lopsided smile that she lo- likes so much that feels off today. she shrugs it off though when he places a kiss on her cheek in greeting and slides into the chair next to her, pulling one of her thighs over his. she abandoned her school work for today, having finished enough of it to not fall behind during a break she had in the morning. instead, she’s brought the book she’s currently reading to enjoy the atmosphere in the library and to keep him company while he gets the work done that she knows has been on his mind for almost a week now.

they’re polar opposites like that, she can’t stand not being caught up with her schoolwork while he needs the pressure of running out of time to get his stuff done. she leans into his side a little more, the two of them getting comfortable in their secluded corner hidden behind bookshelves and focusing on their respective tasks. she manages to read two chapters before he starts tapping her thigh subconsciously. when he lets out a huge sigh she feels along her side she can’t take it anymore.

“hey, are you okay?” he looks confused, “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” she closes her book, keeping a finger in between the pages where she stopped reading. “i don’t know what it is but something’s off about you today. it’s okay if you dont wanna talk but just tell me you’re okay.”

he sighs again, runs a hand over his face before he turns towards her “i’m okay but uh, can we maybe talk?” she reaches to put her book down and mark her page before she faces him again, pulling her legs up on her chair and resting her chin on top. “of course, will. what about?”

“well, uh, about this?” he points between them a little helplessly, hoping she's felt the sparks as well and he's not reading this totally wrong. “i mean, i don’t want you to be my girlfriend- i mean i want to, but like- oh god, i’m messing this up so badly”

“hey” she takes one of his hands in hers. “take a breath. i’m not going anywhere. think about what you want to say.” he closes his eyes briefly, putting a sentence together in his head before talking again. “i want this- i want us to be something. but i don’t know what. like- like i know a little bit about you and i really like that bit and i’d really like to get to know you more.. officially, i guess?”

he’s too nervous to meet her eyes, staring at their - still intertwined - hands instead but she’s quick to drop her legs from the chair and reach a her free hand to his cheek to gently turn his head towards her. he tries to find some kind of rejection in her eyes or on her face but all he sees is a soft smile, one that he hasn’t seen before. he can’t help but smile at her as well, corners of his mouth moving before he can stop it.

“can i kiss you?” “wha- what?” she giggles, leaning her forehead onto his shoulder, laughing at the dumbfounded look on his face. when she lifts her head again her freckled cheeks are flushed a sweet pink and suddenly she’s closer than he thinks she’s ever been. his eyes close on their own when her soft lips press against his, retreating after the shortest of moments.

his hands move before his brain turns back on, settling on her neck gently and pulling her back into another, an actual, kiss. he loses himself in it for a little bit, hears only his heartbeat as it thumps loudly in his ears and tastes her vanilla lip balm and the coffee he brought her earlier. he thinks he floats for a moment until her other hand comes to rest on his chest, grounding him back into the chair in the library. one strand of her hair tickles his cheek so he tucks it back behind her ear, not stopping kissing her.

it wasn’t his first kiss, not his second or third either but none of them compare to kissing ally. he thinks he could kiss her forever if the world allowed it. he’s the one that pulls back this time, slowly though, as if he isn’t sure he doesn’t want to dive back in. “i’ll be your whatever” she whispers, still so close he feels the words against his lips, "if you'll have me?" and really, he’d be stupid to say no to that.

[ask-the-critters-survival-au]

So anybody feeling rather nosy today?

Well I finished Kickin’s entire diary a few weeks ago, and since Hoppy never really got the chance to read the entire thing, I thought I’d share it here!

Please note, on the following dates

November 4, 1997

March 10, 1998

September 4, 1998

Kickin does write down some s*icidal thoughts, that may be triggering to some people. I’d advise you to skip past those if they are triggering for you. I’ll mark them with bold text so you know.

Diary is under the cut! Have fun snooping!

August 26, 1995

I found this notebook by one of the kids’ beds. He didn’t use it at all so I figured it was alright to take it! Not that he is here to stop me anyways. I decided to start writing stuff in here! Just whatever I’m thinking, whenever I feel like it, I guess. Whenever I feel like it. God, that is a WEIRD sentence to say. Or write. But it’s true! It’s my life now! Whenever I feel like it! No more stupid employees here! Haha, get wrecked! Losers. Oh, Hoppy’s calling me. I’m gonna go! I’ll write in you again later! I promise! Wait, why am I promising a notebook that I’ll do something?

October 2, 1995

Okay so I kinda forgot about this thing. Oops! Anyways, I’m getting bored. The soccer ball is starting to deflate and we can’t find the pump. This SUCKS dude. Like, I get the prototype is busy doing whatever, but if he’s all powerful like he says can’t he give us some entertainment around here? Like sheesh! There’s nothing to do. I’m so bored.

October 16, 1995

I’m thinking of growing my hair out. I mean, Crafty is doing it! And it’s getting annoying constantly cutting it. It grows back really fast. Maybe I’ll go for a mullet type look! Just maybe though.

October 29, 1995

DogDay’s missing. We don’t know where he went. We tried searching for him but CatNap told us not to. It’s always what CatNap says. Stupid. I’m going to keep looking anyways. I’m gonna find him.

October 30, 1995

Never mind.

January 1, 1996

Hey, new year! It kinda sucks though. We did absolutely nothing to celebrate. Also, big problem. Bobby found out about my secret crush. Oh I hope nobody ever reads this thing. Don’t tell anybody, but I think I like-like Hoppy. She’s just so cute and pretty and funny and spunky and cool and I love it when she talks about outer space it’s so interesting!!! She’s so fast too, like crazy fast! I think she’s too fast though. She beats me at literally EVERYTHING. That’s okay though! I’m gonna keep getting better until I can win! But yeah. Bobby found out. I’m terrified for my life.

January 23 1996

So we’re starting to run out of food. Catnap said to trust in the prototype and that he’s gonna save us and stuff. I call bull. We need food, not a savior! But he said the prototype has a plan, so I guess we’ll be fine. Still though, I’m getting tired of eating moldy salami.

February 6, 1996

Crafty’s starting to lose it. She started nagging me nonstop because she keeps running out of red marker. I’m gonna avoid her from now on. Her drawings are getting weird. Really weird. Like borderline creepy stuff. She’s going bonkers man, I’m telling you.

May 16, 1996

We ran out of food. Woke up this morning to Picky scoring through the rest of our god damn supply. I swear I am going to SCREAM DUDE!! So what if she’s always hungry?! She’s not the only one who needs food to survive! Unbelievable. What the hell are we going to do now?

May 17, 1996

So that was CatNap’s back up plan. Oh my god. I don’t want to even think about what I’ve done today. I recognized him. Who I ate. He was there when I first woke up. Taking notes in the corner of the room on his clipboard. I feel sick to my stomach. How long are we going to have to do this for?

June 2, 1996

Today feels special. I don’t know why. It just does. Also I’m sorry I haven’t been writing in you as much. I’m just scared of getting caught writing in this thing. What if someone reads it? What if CatNap reads it? Will he get mad at me for what I wrote a few months ago about the prototype? Maybe I should erase it. No I can’t do that, I wrote it in marker. I’m going to keep this thing hidden inside my zipper pocket for now, until I find a better spot.

July 22, 1996

There was a freaking execution today. I’m so disturbed right now. It was one of the tiny DogDays. I’m not really sure what he did, but CatNap made us all watch as he ripped the poor guy apart. He said that’s what happens if you are a heretic. That’s what happens if you speak out even the slightest against the prototype. Bubba told me that he thought one of the other minis had tattled to CatNap about what that tiny DogDay did. That’s insane. I can’t imagine any of my friends doing that to me. Would they do that to me? No, I’m being an idiot. They’d never do that. Regardless I can’t let him find this thing. I don’t want to end up like that mini.

August 8, 1996

It’s officially been a full year since the Hour of Joy. It’s weird to think about. How many full humans have I eaten by now? Maybe eight? Ten? Twelve? Twenty? I lose count. I don’t feel anything when I eat them anymore. It’s easier to imagine them without faces. I always cut off the head so I don’t have to see it. On the bright side, we finally found the pump for the soccer ball. Hoppy and I can finally start playing again. I don’t really think either of us want to though. At least not right now.

September 12, 1996

Hoppy and I had another fight today. I’m writing in this thing because Bobby made us separate. I don’t like being mad at her. I want to apologize but I’m scared to approach her right now. I miss DogDay. I don’t write about him much but I miss him. His name is kind of forbidden to even speak nowadays. Picky thinks he abandoned us. I don’t think he did. He’d never do that. But if he did I want him to come back. Everything’s falling apart without him.

January 12, 1997

I’m sorry it’s been awhile. I don’t really know what to write about today though so I’m gonna end it off here.

February 7, 1997

Sometimes I wonder if I should name this journal something. But I’m not very creative when it comes to names. Crafty is though. She’s been really different lately though. She’s gotten really cheerful for some reason. But say the wrong thing and suddenly you’re on the ground. I’m scared of her. I don’t know what’s going on with her but if she doesn’t get that fixed soon she’s going to get herself killed. Or kill someone else. Either of the two. Maybe even both.

April 25, 1997

Nothing to write about today. I’m just not going to. I don’t feel like it. My hand hurts. I think I’m gonna go back to sleep.

June 2, 1997

It’s the weird day again. The one that feels like it should be special. I don’t know what that feeling is. I asked Bubba about it. He knows a lot, I thought he’d probably know that too. He didn’t though. He said he got that feeling too, sometimes. But neither of us knew why.

June 19, 1997

We ran out of food. I didn’t even know that was possible. There were so many humans working in this factory, how did we run out of them? The entire Playcare was in panic today. CatNap calmed us all down. He said not to worry, because the prototype always has a plan. Okay. If the prototype always has a plan, what is it? Because I’m tired of this whole stupid mess! I want to know what it is! Why can’t I know what it is? This is so dumb! The prototype is so dumb! It makes me want to tear all my feathers out!!!!

September 19, 1997

IM SO HUNGRY SO HUNGRY SO HUNGRY SO HUNGRY I DONT KNOW WHAT TO EAT THERES NOTHING I HAVENT EATEN IN SO LONG I NEED FOOD I NEED FOOD. IM HAVING THESE SCARY THOUGHTS NOW I WANT THEM GONE! I DONT WANT TO HURT ANYONE BUT I NEED TO EAT I NEED TO EAT I NEED TO

September 19, 1997

I did it. I needed to eat. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Picky told us how to find food. There’s plenty of it in the Playhouse. Like livestock, just waiting to be slaughtered. CatNap was so mad. But we have food now. And we all know he’s been eating them too. I feel like a monster. They were like us. But Bubba told me it was necessary. We were all going to die if we didn’t. I’m still sorry though.

November 4, 1997

Bubba got gassed. Badly. I’m so worried about him. We don’t even know why, we just walked in the room and there he was, laying on the ground with scratch marks all over him. How could CatNap have done such a thing? He’s sick. Just sick. I’ve been taking care of him now. I don’t want to leave his side. I’m worried that if I leave for a moment that something will happen to him. Hoppy’s been making me stay active. Sometimes she’s the only reason I keep going on. It’d be so easy just to end it all. She’s there for me though. I love her. God, I love her. I never want anything to happen to her. But I know something’s going to happen to her. That something’s going to happen to all of us eventually. When it happens to her though, it’s gonna happen to me next. I promise it will.

November 14, 1997

I found a boombox today. It’s really cool. I’ve been playing it for Bubba recently. He’s still asleep. I hope he wakes up soon. Did I ever mention in here that I like to dance? It’s really fun. It makes me forget about everything that happened. I lose myself in the movements. I don’t really even know how I know how to dance. I never learned it as a toy. I think I’m gonna go do it now though.

December 3, 1997

THAT JERK! THAT HORRIBLE STUPID DISGUSTING DUMB JERK! I HATE HER! I HATE HER I HATE HER I HATE HER! HOW DARE SHE DO THAT TO BUBBA?? WHEN HAS HE EVER BEEN ANYTHING BUT NICE TO HER???? BUT NOOOOO, I GUESS KINDNESS MEANS NOTHING IN THE EYES OF PICKY PIGGY! ALL SHE CARES ABOUT IS HERSELF AND HER APPETITE! I WOULDVE RIPPED OFF SOOO MUCH MORE THAN HER EAR IF I COULD! BUT THEN HOPPY AND BOBBY HAD TO COME IN AND RESTRAIN ME! STUPID! STUPID STUPID STUPID! IM GOING TO KILL HER WHEN I GET THE CHANCE! AND ITS GOING TO BE SLOW AND BRUTAL AND ITS GOING TO HURT!

January 1, 1998

Yay. New year. Yippee.

March 4, 1998

Something bad happened today. I knew it would happen eventually. I think we all did. Crafty finally lost it on the wrong person. She attacked CatNap and then he ripped off her hands as punishment. I could hear every. Single. Agonizing second of her screams. I thought I was used to screaming by now. I guess I was just telling myself that. I hope she survives. That was a lot of blood.

March 6, 1998

What do I do. What do I do. What do I do. Hoppy’s leaving. She just told me she is. Hoppy, Bobby and Crafty are leaving Playcare in a week. They can’t leave. They can’t. CatNap’s going to kill them. He’s going to kill them brutally. And even if he doesn’t, who knows what’s outside of Playcare? Plenty of toys who would be willing to hurt them for food. Hoppy told me to come with them. I can’t go with them. I don’t want to die. But I don’t want them to die. They can’t leave. I don’t want them to leave. But I can’t change Hoppy’s mind. She’s leaving with or without me. How could she do that to me? Just leave me here, all alone with Picky? Bubba’s still asleep. She’s the only one I’ll have to talk to. I don’t want to talk to her. I’m scared. I need to stop them.

March 8, 1998

what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done

March 9, 1998

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so so sorry. I messed up I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry please forgive me. I keep seeing her. She talks to me in my head now, telling me she won’t ever forgive me, no matter how much I grovel and beg. Sometimes I don’t even think it’s in my head. Am I going insane? You don’t deserve to stay sane. You’re right. I don’t. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

March 10, 1998

The blood won’t come off. It stained my hands. Maybe I deserve that. You do deserve that. You’re right. You’re always right. I deserve it. I haven’t moved from my bed since it happened. I’m hungry but I don’t want to eat. I don’t deserve to eat. Bubba needs me though. At least if Picky tries eating him again there’s nobody to stop me from making her pay this time. I don’t know why I don’t just give up. I should. I made a promise that I would once Hoppy went. Maybe it’s Bubba. Or maybe I’m just making excuses. Maybe I’m just too scared. I’ve never felt so alone before. I deserve to feel alone.

March 24, 1998

I’ve been seeing her a lot lately in my dreams. Always the screaming and then the ear. And then she tells me it’s my fault. I know it’s my fault. But I still don’t understand. Am I selfish for not understanding? Yeah. Probably. But all I ever wanted to do was protect her. I don’t understand why this happened. I don’t understand. Picky’s been avoiding me. That’s fine. I don’t want to see her either.

April 12, 1998

You know what? No. I’m done. I don’t care if CatNap catches me going into the Playhouse. I need to see what’s inside. Maybe she’s inside, and that’s why we aren’t allowed in. I’m going to find her. I’m going to make things right with her. I refuse to believe she’s gone.

July 16, 1998

July. It’s already July. I took that long to recover? Seriously? That was three whole months. Well, I guess loosing an eye will do that to you. I’m still surprised that Picky took care of me while I was hurt. I tried to ask her why but she didn’t respond, so I guess that was that. That doesn’t matter though. He’s alive. He’s alive. DogDay’s alive! He’s been here this entire time, sitting right below our noses and we had no clue! If I can just figure out a way to get him out then he can save us all from this mess! I know he can! I just need to find a way.

July 20, 1998

Bubba woke up. He finally woke up! Oh my god, he finally woke up! It’s been how long, eight months? I’m so thankful. He’s really scared though. He must’ve been through hell. I know from experience the nightmares that stuff gives you aren’t pleasant. I can’t imagine going through that for a whole year. Poor guy.

July 21, 1998

Bubba’s been having trouble walking lately. His legs give out whenever he tries. I guess that makes sense. He hasn’t used his legs in a while. I wish I knew how to give him the proper treatment he needs. Actually, there’s an idea. I should check inside of the school. I’m sure there is something in there about comas.

July 22, 1998

OKAY SO THAT WAS A HORRIBLE IDEA. Not only did I find absolutely NOTHING, but I almost got my head bashed in with a freaking mace! That biology teacher has gone wack. Completely wack. Then again, she’s not the only one. I still hear Hoppy. She still visits me. I’ll be in the middle of something and then I’ll just see her. I think I’m starting to hallucinate. I know that’s really bad. But I enjoy seeing her. Even if all she does is cuss me out. It gives me hope. Hope that she’s not Never mind. I shouldn’t be thinking about that. Bury that nice and deep along with the other scary thoughts. She’s not dead. She’s not dead she’s not dead she’s not dead she’s not dead.

August 8, 1998

Third year anniversary. Or is it the fourth? I don’t feel like doing the math. Bubba can walk again now, but all he does is sit against a wall. It feels like my effort was wasted, if I’m honest. He doesn’t like eating. Or sleeping. He hates sleeping. I tried to give him some books to read that I stole from the councilors office, but he ignored them. Some days he refuses to sleep so badly to the point where I have to knock him out for him to get a little shut eye. I feel bad for him. He doesn’t deserve this. If I could take his place I would in a heartbeat. Maybe if it was me instead of him I wouldn’t have messed up so horribly.

September 4, 1998

It’s one of those days where the hallucinations are bad again. Sometimes I wonder if it even is a hallucination. Am I actually seeing her? She’s looking over my shoulder right now. Watching me write. She looks so real. And the stuff she says feels so real. I want her to be real. I want to hold her in my arms. She just told me if I ever try to do that she’s going to push me off the cloud I’m on. I think she knows I wouldn’t save myself.

September 18, 1998

Bubba’s been getting better. He’s started talking again. Only sometimes though. And he never says much. It’s a start though.

November 10, 1998

I think I just saw Picky chasing Hoppy away from the councilors office. I must’ve just been hallucinating again. She was carrying something though. It looked like a computer? I’ve never seen that before. Probably just another hallucination.

[billythenightguard]

Run Away: Detention (2011) & FNAF Movie Crossover - Chapter One

Masterlist

Mentions: weed, running away

Word Count: 781

Warnings: slightly angsty

Older!Clapton/Mike x GN!Reader

“You have to believe us!” You screeched at the cops, eyes wide, Clapton at your side talking alongside you.

“He might kill more people! Is that what you want?” He asked, his hand holding yours, a way to ground you both so you wouldn’t lose it any further. You didn’t have time to appreciate how his hand perfectly fit yours. How with his chest puffed up in defiance, he seemed truly taller than you by more than just a few inches.

“Look, kids, I don’t know what kind of drugs your on, but stop with this fairytale bullshit, Cinderhella isn’t real.”

“Ugh!!” You cried out, Clapton pulling you back against his chest as you tried to make him let go so you could take a swing at the officer.

“It’s not worth it,” he whispered, “they won’t believe us…” you could tell it was truly bothering him, so you slumped down, nodding to him. Once the cops left, Clapton put you on his skateboard, instructing you when to lean for a turn as he pushed you two forward. He didn’t know how to tell you that he was leaving the lame town of Grizzly Lake, so he took the coward’s way and decided he wouldn’t.

“This is bullshit!” You yelled once you were in his basement, sitting on the couch and crossing your arms. “Sanders is still out there!”

“I know,” he said, digging around and humming triumphantly when he found the little baggie he needed. He wanted to ask you to run away with him, but he couldn’t. You were just 14, hell, your friendship was already a questionable age gap once he turned 18 last October. But you had been neighbors and best friends since you were born as both of your parents liked to say. His parents would say that Clapton would beg to be your babysitter at five years old, how he’d always want to keep you safe. And your parents would say that he was the only person capable of soothing your cries, that you could be throwing a tantrum but the second he ran in, you cheered up. Destined to be best friends for life.

“Come on, little firecracker,” he smiled, sitting beside you and passing you a joint. Making you gasp in excitement, Clapton never let you smoke with him, he said he wanted to keep you as innocent as possible.

“Really?!”

“Yes really, now put the filter between your lips before I change my mind.” He chuckled, watching as you eagerly took the blunt to your lips like you’d seen him do numerous times. “Inhale when the tip starts to smoke a little okay?” He instructed, bringing his cheesy gas station lighter up and flicking the flame on, igniting the tip. You inhaled a little too much and too hard, smoke filling your mouth and lungs, making you quickly pull the blunt away as you coughed, Clapton couldn’t help but to laugh as he rubbed your back.

“Sorry, kiddo, I forgot to warn you. Consider it a rite of passage.”

“Asshole-” you gasped out, wheezing for air as you laughed and tried to clear the smoke out of your lungs. He smiled at the nickname, knowing you meant no harm behind it as he plucked the blunt from your fingers and took his hit, leaning back on the couch.

He hated it, you had fallen asleep on his chest, the blunt long gone hours before, his hand resting on your back and his lips on the top of your head as he fought back tears. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me, please… know that if I could, you’d come with me. I’ll leave a note for your parents, telling them to leave this shitty town. Oh god, I’m gonna miss you so much…” he carefully got himself up, laying you on the couch and putting his flannel shirt over you, and then a blanket on top to really keep you warm. “I’m sorry, I have to go… I’m scared… please be safe, find me again okay? Best friends for life.” He softly kissed your cheek one more time before going upstairs to his room, grabbing his emergency bag and leaving in the night.

“So, I only have the day shift available, but it’s 7 days a week, 5:30AM to 6:30PM, I give a thirty minute shift change for you and the other guard to get your things settled.” Steve Raglan spoke, your career counselor since moving to Louisiana three months ago.

“I’ll take it.” You said simply, dressed in your Sunday best, determined to start a new life. One without Clapton Davis on your mind.

Mike stirred awake as he swore he heard a door open and slam, yawning and rubbing his eyes as he saw the time, 5:30 in the morning. He stood up and stretched, his shirt lifting above his stomach lightly before he heard the security room door open. He whipped around quickly and stared at you, his eyes widening as he recognized you instantly.

“You must be the night shift.” His world shattered at that simple statement, you didn’t recognize him.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered, almost desperate to use the name he abandoned ten years ago. “Mike, Mike Schmidt.” His heart pounding in his chest as he heard your name, it really was you. Your hair was a touch shorter than he remembered, your eyes seemed to lack their spark, but he felt his eyes linger as he recognized his old red flannel.

“When Will You Come, the Wavves.” Mike stated, hearing the music through your earbuds. Instantly he remembered it as the song he had left playing in the basement that night.

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckled, setting your things into the locker. “My best friend used to love this song.”

“Still do…” he murmured, making sure you didn’t hear him.

“God, I’m supposed to forget him, and I still bring him up.” It was clear you hadn’t meant for him to hear that, he felt his chest tighten as he looked at you.

“Forget him?” He pressed, what did you mean, did you hate him now?

“It’s… it’s silly.” You sighed and shook your head. “He left ten years ago, no warning or anything. I think I should have known something was up when he finally let me smoke with him.” You seemed sad, Mike wanted nothing more than to hug you, to confess everything, but if he confessed, he risked you quitting and moving away. He couldn’t handle that, not when life brought you two back together. So for now, he’d keep quiet, whatever it took to keep you in his life. “I’m sorry for dumping all of that on you, we just met but I don’t know… I feel like I could talk to you all day.”

“Don’t apologize,” he smiled, knowing your subconscious was recognizing him. “We all need someone to lean on, I don’t mind listening to you.”

“Well then, the same goes for you Mike.” You smiled at him, the extra security vest over your clothes and his flannel. “Just tell me if there’s anything I can do to help, I just moved here, so I don’t exactly have friends or anything occupying my time.”

Mike softly groaned as he laid down on his bed, Abby was driven to school, luckily having eaten some cereal with Max. You were back, you were finally back, but you wanted to forget him… you moved to forget him. He let out a frustrated groan into the empty house. He knew he should have texted, or sent letters, or something. But he was scared, cowardly.

Sander had said something to him that day, something Mike never told you. “I’ll find you first, and I’ll make her watch as you die.” He didn’t want that, he didn’t want you to watch him get killed. Truly if he died, then so be it, he supposed. Just as long as you didn’t watch. “I’m sorry, Firecracker, I have to lie to you just a little longer… I’m selfish like that.” He murmured as he rolled over on his stomach, getting comfortable to have some proper sleep.

Tag List: @na-is-salty @cancelledkaley @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @dessxoxsworld @mad-die45

[morningshush]

Sirius Black would absolutely have a love-hate relationship with ABBA — they are literally singing about his life:

The album ABBA was released April 21, 1976, when Sirius was in his fourth year and he

1) finally kissed Remus:

So I made up my mind

It must come to an end

Look at me now, will I ever learn?

I don’t know how

But I suddenly lose control

There’s a fire within my soul

Just one look and I can hear a bell ring

One more look and I forget everything, whoa

Mamma mia, here I go again

My my, how can I resist you?

(Mamma Mia)

2) told Severus to go to the Whomping Willow during a full moon…

Where are those happy days

They seem so hard to find

I tried to reach for you, but you have closed your mind

Whatever happened to our love? I wish I understood

It used to be so nice, it used to be so good…

So, when you’re near me, darling, can’t you hear me

S.O.S.

The love you gave me, nothing else can save me, S.O.S.

[…]

You seem so far away though you are standing near

You made me feel alive, but something died I fear

(S.O.S.)

3) realised the he loved Remus and told him:

Love me or leave me, make your choice but believe me

I love you

I do, I do, I do, I do, I do

I can’t conceal it, don’t you see, can’t you feel it?

[…]

So come on, now let’s try it

I love you, can’t deny it

'Cause it's true

(I do, I do, I do, I do, I do)

The album Arrival was released October 11, 1976, when Sirius was in his sixth year.

First of all, he’s the dancing queen:

Night is young and the music’s high

With a bit of rock music, everything is fine

(Dancing Queen)

Secondly, he’s run away from home and Regulus joined the Death Eaters:

I’ve seen it on your face

Tells me more than any worn-out old phrase

So now we’ll go separate ways

Never again we two

Never again, nothing I can do…

Like an image passing by

My love, my life

In the mirror of your eyes

My love, my life

I can see it all so clearly

Answer me sincerely

Was it a dream, a lie?

[…]

But I know I don’t possess you

So go away, God bless you

You are still my love and my life

Still my one and only

(My Love, My Life)

The Album was released December 12, 1977.

About Sirius and Remus:

I was an impossible case

No one ever could reach me

[…]

I'm a bashful child beginning to grow

And you make me talk

And you make me feel

And you make me show

What I'm trying to conceal

If I trust in you

Would you let me down?

Would you laugh at me

If I said I care for you?

[…]

Your smile, and the sound of your voice

And the way you see through me

Got a feeling, you give me no choice

But it means a lot to me

(The Name of the Game)

Also I have no idea if there were karaoke-bars in England in 1977, but in my head the marauders go to a karaoke-bar and they encourage Lily to go up on stage and do a song, which she is reluctant to but then caves in and starts singing Thank You For The Music with the loveliest voice and most enticing eyes and James m e l t s

Voulez-vous was released April 23, 1979, the year Regulus dies.

Remus to Sirius:

How I hate to see you like this

There is no way you can deny it

I can see that you're oh, so sad, so quiet

[…]

You were always sure of yourself

Now I see you’ve broken a feather

(Chiquitita)

Super Trouper was released November 3, 1980.

About Sirius and Remus:

Touch my soul, you know how

Andante, andante

Go slowly with me now

I'm your music, I’m your song

Play me time and time again and make me strong

Make me sing, make me sound

Andante, andante

Tread lightly on my ground

Andante, andante

Oh, please don’t let me down

(Andante, Andante)

In the summer of 1981, Sirius got sick of the war and decided to take Remus with him for a weekend in Paris:

The summer air was soft and warm

The feeling right, the Paris night

Did its best to please us

And strolling down the Élysées

We had a drink in each café

And you, you talked of politics, philosophy and I smiled like Mona Lisa

We had our chance

It was a fine and true romance

[…]

I can still recall our last summer

I still see it all

Walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain

Our last summer

Memories that remain…

We made our way along the river

And we sat down in the grass

By the Eiffel tower

I was so happy we had met

[…]

We took the chance

Like we were dancing our last dance

I can still recall our last summer

I still see it all

In the tourist jam, round the Notre Dame

Our last summer

Walking hand in hand

Paris restaurants

Our last summer

Morning croissants

Living for the day

Worries far away…

(Our Last Summer)

They toasted to many more summers like those, but it really was their last…

The Visitors was released November 30, 1981. A month earlier, Lily and James were murdered, Peter disappeared and Sirius was imprisoned.

Sirius in Azkaban:

One of us is crying, one of us is lying

In her lonely bed

Staring at the ceiling

Wishing she was somewhere else instead

One of us is shaking with a heart that’s breaking

One of us is lonely, one of us is only

Waiting for a call

Sorry for herself, feeling stupid, feeling small

Wishing she had never left at all

(One of Us)

Remus:

Do I really see what’s in her mind?

Each time I think I’m close to knowing

She keeps on growing

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table

Barely awake, I let precious time go by

Then when she’s gone, there's that odd melancholy feeling

And a sense of guilt I can’t deny

What happened to the wonderful adventures

The places I had planned for us to go?

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Well, some of that we did, but most we didn’t

And why, I just don’t know

(Slipping Through My Fingers)

Bonus:

Knowing Me, Knowing You is Remus walking through Grimmauld Place after Sirius’s death:

No more carefree laughter

Silence ever after

Walking through an empty house

Tears in my eyes

Here is where the story ends, this is goodbye

[areyoudreaminof]

Leave Out a Cup For Me: An Amren Playlist

The Inner Circle is complete and I have finally conquered the tiny ancient one.

This was without a doubt the hardest playlist to make. Amren is tough for me, she's sort of a strange enigma. She's our look into the greater Fae world and beyond, she's a shrewd second-in-command and brilliant. But, like the cosmic entity she is, she can be cruel and condescending. So, that leaves me with the question; what does Amren sound like? For me, she sounds like a lot of gothic synths and Americana. I expect this playlist to be as divisive as her character. Either way, I hope you enjoy it! Meet me behind the cut!

Listen Here!

Apply-Glasser

If the walls were too thin You would break in If the walls were too thin You would break right in

Out in the thunder Opens my eyes wide There is sound in my mind Keeps me up all night

Fresh Blood-Eels

Whatever trepidation you may feel In your heart, you know it's not real In a moment of clarity Summon an act of charity

You gotta pull me out of this mud Sweet baby, I need fresh blood

Same Old Energy-Kiki Rockwell

It's your own damn fault, boy, you handed us the broom Four hundred years ago, sayin' "You know what to do" Yes sir, we do, beep beep, comin' through Close your damn mouth, my man, I told you we flew

Rise up, oh, flame, come join the game They started a frenzy, but we’ll take the blame A bare chested dame who goes by no name Their arsenal's empty, all they got is shame

Hot Gum-SOFIA ISELLA

Your teeth are on fire, do you notice? No Your mouth is burning, do you notice? No Your hair burns, my hair burns Your skin burns, my skin burns Do you feel anything? No If I tell you what I’m thinking promise, you won’t tell yourself If you tell me what you’re thinking, I swear I won’t tell myself He’s on the ground, he’s on his knees, he’s a believer He’s on the ground, he didn’t listen to the preacher

Lose Your Soul-Dead Man's Bones

I get up in the morning To the beat of the drum I get up to this feeling Keeps me on the run I get up in the morning Put my dreams away I get up, I get up, I get up again

Devil's Resting Place-Laura Marling

When you ask to drink of me I think out on the case Look down to my aloe cup and take myself a taste Bitterness is thick like blood and cold as a wind sea breeze If you must drink of me, take of me what you please I am loathe to say it's the devil's taste I've been with the devil in the devil's resting place

Bad Ritual-Timber Timbre

There's a hat on the bed,the clock has stopped ticking And nothing remotely romantic has been said Let's not pass on the steps, let's take the season very easy Let's take pills, saltwater, let's keep looking ahead It's a bad, bad ritual But it calms me down

In the Dark-Cathedrals

I can see you fall apart You turn away and fade out of sight But I hear you call in the night Let it go, let me hold you this time Lying in the hollows of your heart I see you lying awake in your ride I’ll be a spark in the sky When you want it, I’ll be on the other side

Deep Green-Marika Hackman

Just because I love your skin Doesn't mean I'll jump in The water's clean and warm and green I'm not allowed to swim I'm scared of getting in

Pyre-Son Lux

We're wresting now from our own hands a future Regret the flower of watered seed Are we the ghosts that swarm about us? We can begin

Thanatos-Soap & Skin

Ages of delirium Curse of my oblivion I swell without a scar To the end of time A shell without a star At the end of time

I am not a woman, I'm a god-Halsey

I am not a woman, I'm a god I am not a martyr, I'm a problem I am not a legend, I'm a fraud So keep your heart 'cause I already got one

TAGLIST: @aldbooks @bookofmirth @brieq @bagelfyre @c-e-d-dreamer @cursebrkr @darling-archeron @damedechance @gwyns @gimme-mor @harrysringss @highqueenmorrigan @talons-and-teeth @kataravimes-of-the-shire @krem-does-stuff @krem-has-a-mess @kingofsummer93 @lidiacervos @lucienarcheron @octobers-veryown @ofduskanddreams @panicatthenightcourt @queercontrarian @reverie-tales @asnowfern @spell-cleavers @separatist-apologist @wilde-knight @thesistersarcheron @thelovelymadone @the-lonelybarricade @ultadverb @vulpes-fennec @velidewrites @vanserrass @yazthebookish @mossytrashcan @bennylavasbuns @tuzna-pesma-snova @andrigyn @thecrispypotatochip @elvhendis @fieldofdaisiies @xtaketwox @popjunkie42-blog

[latibule79]

Since last year, life has been throwing me one challenge after another, and things took a turn for the worse in October. Dealing with grief, health issues, and trauma has been draining, to say the least. While there are probably more astrological transits that I’m not even aware of, the recent events - the lunar eclipse in Libra, solar eclipse in Aries, Mercury retrograde, and the Jupiter-Uranus conjunction - seemed to amplify everything. Then, yesterday’s full moon in Scorpio intensified it all even further.

Last night, I hit a breaking point. I seriously considered checking myself into a mental health facility. Thankfully, amidst the chaos, I still had moments of clarity. Instead of acting impulsively, I decided to take a proactive step and made an appointment with my doctor for next week to discuss my mental health.

These past few days have been emotionally heavy. Lots of self-reflection, tears, and feeling physically unwell. It’s been like a mental and physical cleanse, leaving me utterly exhausted. But I’m thankful to God for giving me the strength to keep going and for not losing my mind. I trust that I’ll come out of this stronger, and I have faith that I’m divinely protected. Holding onto this belief is what keeps me going, even in the darkest of times.

[girlamongstthewildflowers]

My Testimony

Hey y’all! Welcome to my blog!! I wanted to tell you a bit about myself incase we don’t know each other.

I’m a twenty six year old wife and mother of one. I grew up in a Christian home. Church every Sunday, praying before every meal and before bed every night. I had deep fear of God and of Jesus’s eventual return. I spent my whole life full of anxiety and fear. Any little noise I didn’t recognize would send me into a fit of tears and shakes. At the age of sixteen I nearly took my own life because I felt so lost. Like God had given up on me because there was so much wrong with me. Like I wasn’t worth saving to Him so why stick around. But I stayed. I kept trying and failing to be the Christian I thought I was supposed to be.

But in 2020 I took a step back from it all. I never stopped believing in God but I had a lot of trauma from my upbringing that made me lose interest in church and the Christian lifestyle all together. I spent the next four years going in and out of deep depression and hopelessness. It wasn’t all bad, though. Of course. I had a baby. I got married. All good things.

But through the spring and summer of 2024 I felt like something big was coming for me. Good or bad I didn’t really know. But I had a very scary thought going through my mind; “something is happening. God is either going to save me from myself. Or I’m going to end myself. I can’t see it any other way”. Then one morning I’m watching a new Christian movie that had come out and for the first time in a very long time, I cried. I was touched by the spirit in a way I hadn’t been in forever. This is something that’s always been important to me. I need to be able to cry for God. I prayed out and asked God to forgive me. After, I texted my mom and told her to pray for me. I knew now that I had done this, Satan was gonna come for me hard. And he did.

The next few months were hard. Habits I so badly wanted to lose got that much harder to let go of. I started church but was discouraged about having a hard time making friends. And life in general got very hard and busy. But then in October I decided enough was enough. I wouldn’t ride the fence anymore. I’m all in.

I was baptized November 3, 2024. And since then I’ve been slowly climbing upward. No matter how hard life gets. No matter what Satan throws at me, I’m solid. I’ve never felt so sure of my faith. What a comfort that is. To know where I’m going when Jesus comes back.

[kingoftheharvestmoon]

Darby’s crucible

Mixed format/no format exaggerated insane poetry

Bitches ain’t shit

I’m sure that’ll hit

You right on the head

hopefully drop you dead

I said

I said our lifestyle absolves you of misogyny

plain, brutal honesty

but modesty feels linked to poverty like

do I control how you think?

and I thunk really hard when the stars were out

and I was out of liquor, so I drank canned heat

and lord: I did not eat for I needed that forsaken heat

and it beat out my head over and over again

like it counted to ten then started again

tell me when it’s over again

I tell you: verily I’m barely coherent

more here than there

And you stare at my words over and over like man oh god is this guy ever sober and yes dude I am sometimes

it is October my favorite month and yes god it is October my favorite month the crunch in the leaves while the barren trees seethe like you could breathe in that sorrow for today and tomorrow

I miss my cat Darby

he hardly had anything to say

but I do miss the times we used to play

Together and I thought it would be forever

but forever is a never so sever that thought

He died in my arms

In my hands he was a little cat, understand

I felt him leave the land and expand out to heaven

I say I tell you I saw the color seven in the purple sunset that appeared the day he died like I cried so violently he had to make sure I could see that he was lonely but okay I just wish it was never today never today

I miss his black pelt, he was so voidous

That you wouldn’t notice him melt into a black chair

There were many times i sat on him

Accidentally cause I couldn’t see him clearly

cause he had his eyes closed

And I miss his sweet little nose

and his little kitten toes

and the way his eyes used to glow when the light caught it right

No lord, not tonight

Is it alright that everything has to die

when not everything has the means to cry

why

why

I say I’ll die when I say I’ll die but I’ve been saying I wanna die so much it feels like a failed first try and you wanna know why

Don’t you

like as if the Holy Ghost abandons anything true

it’s new like brand new like wow who knew

what we could do with nothing

start with destroying something

Muttering is verbal stuttering like tumbling through your choices and the voices said that the dead don’t speak so as long as you’re alive please do speak because you’ll spend an eternity sitting there like oh god if only

It is so lonely to not have a voice

choices boil down to a crown you place where you favor to burn everything now or to save it for later

waiter I wanted no ice in my ice water

can you tell me why I’m such a hater

why later is never good enough

It’s tough but I want it all now I want it all now I’m impatient it comes with being sapient because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting sating that hunger to just go where nobody knows where the wind blows sweet and the lovebirds eat where the heat of the sun is as peaceful as an unloaded gun yeah that’s where I come from

(If the stars are so far away why do they fall down when I pray why don’t they stay in a fixed position from my perspective is there a difference to the ants in my yard I am a colossus but to me myself I just exist in a terrible state of mind but find something greater when you quit being such a hater)

There’s layers there’s layers to my writing it’s not exciting to read but it is interesting to bleed on digital pages and watch the changes as words appear on my screen verily my career is a dream as I can write poetry after looking at memes that make no sense like nothing ever does post modernism is a funeral simply just because it rusts like an old train station there is simply no universal location

and if you listened to gods pacemaker placed in your chest

You’d realize you really do have it best

Miles above the rest but that is an individual observation

It is not dependent on your location

We can all come to that conclusion without losing anything at all

the egos fall is the least painful of them all,

but yet we stall because all of this just exists without meaning

lord could I tell you to visit me while I’m dreaming

and bring Darby too I miss him, and you too

Goodnight

[isupplyweaponstochildren]

I wrote this for my English assessment and got an A ^.^

I forgot what the prompt was, something about a blank piece of paper taunting someone

Tw: Homophobia, violence, suicide, religion

Any constructive criticism would be appreciated. :>

Friend of Dorothy

The paper screamed at her, daring her to put ink on it. Once she begins, there would be no turning back, it will forever stain her heart. It was as permanent as getting ink poked into your skin, except more painful. She eyes the tattoo on her wrist, ‘Friend of Dorothy’. The words eat her up from the inside, tearing apart her organs and squeezing her thumping heart until it pops. If she’s able to get a permanent thing in her life like that, then she can do this. This simple decision. With a shaky breath she puts her pen on the lined paper.

‘On Thursday, the 12th of October 1972, I experienced the worst thing of my life. The image of the headlights are still seared into my mind. I can still feel the raw humidity from that night, the hair clinging to my forehead, my back covered in sweat. I can still feel her blood, hear her cries for a God that has abandoned us. Or maybe we abandoned him, maybe being a queer is a sin. If that’s a fact, then I’m going to hell anyways, so it don’t matter what I do now. The devils hunted us down, their red chariot roaring with a deafening anger. First, they hit us with the truck, sending us into the curb. Then, the men got out, wielding bats and chains. Johnny Lefkowitz, Stanley Kruff, Beau Twist and Robbert Flannagan. Bring us justice and incarcerate the boys. They made me watch as they beat her, forcing me to watch the light slowly leave her eyes. They murdered my Stacy, and for what? For being too full of love? For being the sunshine in a world full of darkness? For having the type of smile that would send the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy and leave you breathless? The Angels sung a choir when she was born, she was single handedly bless by all the gods up above. If perfection was a person, it would be her. If I could only listen to one thing for the rest of eternity, it would be her laughter. Because her joy alone could stop wars. She was the most blessed thing to walk this earth, and without her, the world is simply empty. It is devoid of all color and joy. The birds no longer sing their songs, the insects don't buzz, there is no more laughter. It’s like a sick and twisted fate. I have forsaken someone and am now reaping the consequences. In school, when we read ‘Romeo and Juliet’, I believed they were idiotic. Who would go to those lengths just to be with someone? There is more to live for than love, a stupid romance. But now I understand. I have grown. It makes more sense now, I understand Romeo, and now I’m going to be with my Juliet again.

If you find me, I’m sorry.

-Lucile.’

The pen dances on the page with her words, like she was a conductor, and her words were her symphony. There are 171,146 words in the English language, and yet, none of them are worthy enough to describe how she felt. So it was time to show with her actions.

She places the pen down and sighs, her eyes turning to a silver object with an evil glint. She grabs the object by its cold handle, her fingers tingling with anticipation. Slowly, she brings the sharp edge up to her wrist, her skin burning with impatience. Her eyes stay fixed in one position as she glides the blade across her skin, her tattoo being sliced in half.

She lets out a soft chuckle, it didn’t hurt as much as she expected. All the grown-ups played it up to be a painful experience, both physically and emotionally, but her bruised and battered face hurt more than the cut, and losing her tether to the world and sanity weighed heavier than this. This was almost peaceful, watching the deep red blood spray out of her in spirts.

Her death was going to be poetic; it was going to be a testament to the unjust judicial system that let the boys free, a testament to the cruel world that tore her love from her too early.