#no one else can fix me only queue

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[ckret2]

Chapter 64 of human Bill Cipher being 50% the prisoner & 50% the weird guest of the Mystery Shack:

Soos makes a deeply significant moral decision. To redecorate!

If you're seeing this picture, it's because I either didn't have enough time to draw a better one before the queue spat out this chapter, or I decided that nothing else I could draw would be half as funny.

####

Whenever Soos faced something difficult, he talked to Abuelita. And Bill was nothing if not something difficult.

Soos laid out the situation to her in the living room as she watched her telenovelas—she didn't mind the distraction, she far preferred real life drama over anything they put on TV. He told her about the confiscated canes, the daily injuries, the bargaining for food, the threat of forced showers, the bruises and burns and blood Bill said nothing about. He told her about Bill's door trick and how he'd only used it to talk to a teen about life and tuck a kid into bed. Once he'd told Abuelita all his thoughts, she nodded slowly, eyes still fixed to the TV screen; and for the moment, said nothing.

The doctor on TV confirmed the tearful new mother's suspicions that her husband had cheated (DNA tests confirmed the baby was another woman's), and Abuelita muted the show as it went to a commercial break. Soos waited as she collected her thoughts to render her judgment.

"I have been talking to Mr. Cipher for the last month or so. He keeps me company while I cook so I do not poison him again," she said. "I think he is ruthless, manipulative, and self-centered."

Soos winced, but nodded. "That's true."

Abuelita went on, "I like him. He is self-confident. He's blunt in a way you only get when you're old and cynical. I think he is a bad person; but, many bad people are good company."

"That's also true." Soos nodded again thoughtfully. Like whenever a comic book had a young idealistic superhero team up with an old jaded ex-villain who played by his own rules, and they ended up best friends, in spite of their glaring ethical and political differences.

"But, more importantly than whether he is a good person or a bad person," Abuelita said, "he is a person. And if you do not like a person, there are three ways you can deal with him." She counted off on her fingers, "You can kill him; you can avoid him; or you can set your feelings aside, and treat him with decency. Yes, get rid of the people who are bad for you—but no matter how terrible a person is, you must treat him like a person."

Soos's eyes lit up. "Oh, like with grandpa!"

Abuelita nodded slowly. "Yes. Just like grandpa."

"Yeah but—what if treating him decently is, you know... dangerous? Like if he uses any privileges we give him to do bad stuff? The Pines think he will. And I think he might be secretly talking to his cultists or whatever? Who miiight wanna destroy the world? But what if they can't destroy the world actually, and if I tell about the people he's talking to, he gets treated even worse..."

"Without his devil powers, he couldn't destroy a bookclub," Abuelita said. "But, if he is so dangerous, are you going to kill him?"

"No. I actually don't think we can anymore?"

"Are you going to avoid him?"

Soos let out a heavy sigh. "I can't as long as he lives here."

Abuelita shrugged, as if to say there you have it. "You are a good, kind man, mijo. I am sure you will figure out the right thing to do."

####

He took Melody out for lunch. They went through a drive-thru so they could park and talk privately in the truck.

She took a firmer stance on it than Abuelita. "I do not want to be stuck with Bill forever," she said. "I could put up with it this long because I thought the Pines would get rid of him as soon as possible! Now that he's staying here indefinitely...?" She shook her head. "I really don't like it, Soos."

Soos wasn't surprised. "Do... you think they should have 'gotten rid' of him?"

Melody paused, then shook her head again. "This whole thing is such a bizarre situation. Like, I can get why it makes sense to execute the guy that can end the world, but... I just don't think that's a decision two random guys with a big gun should be allowed to make," she said. "Honestly? I think we should call some federal agency and put him in jail somewhere. You know I've been iffy on Ford's 'only we can contain Bill' thing from the start."

"Yeah. I know." Soos agreed with Ford—he was the Bill expert, he would know—but he couldn't say Melody was wrong, either.

"Our wedding's scheduled for the end of summer," Melody said. "And... I'm sorry, Soos, but I just can't live under the same roof as the guy that turned me into a statue. We'll still get married—"

"—Oh, phew, almost had a heart attack there—"

"—pff, sorry. But if Bill's still in the shack after the summer, then... then I'll keep staying with my aunt, or we could move into your old house and just visit the shack for work, or something... but I can't move into the shack permanently until he moves out."

"Okay. I accept that." Even if the rest of them had sorta gotten used to living with Bill, Soos thought not wanting to live with a former torturer/conqueror/dictator was a pretty reasonable boundary. "I dunno what we'll do long-term just yet, but—we'll decide on something before the wedding."

Melody let out a long, nervous sigh. "Okay," she said. "Okay. Thanks, Soos." She reached across the truck's center console.

Soos took her hand. "But, how do you think we should handle Bill until then?"

Melody stared out the window at the gray sky. The rain had dried up before dawn, but the sky was still hazy. "If we keep guarding him ourselves instead of getting law enforcement involved... personally? I wouldn't give him any kind of special treatment at all. He tried to end the world! He stuck the whole town in a throne! He can just keep sleeping on the floor and being miserable, and I'd be fine with it."

Soos winced. "I see."

Melody squeezed his hand. "But—the fact that you're kinder than that is one of the things I love about you. Even when the creep you're being kind to doesn't deserve it." She gave him a resigned smile. "Do whatever you feel is right."

He considered that. Then he nodded. "I will."

####

Bill kept Soos's Abuelita company while she cooked, and gossiped with her in Spanish better than Soos's about people Bill had never even met. Bill liked watching cartoons, sports where people got hurt, and weirdly intellectual movies Soos didn't get, and he heckled historical documentaries and the news. Bill was offended by white rice and had incredibly strong opinions about salsas for a guy who'd only started eating them a month ago. Bill hadn't taken his friendship bracelet off once since Mabel gave it to him. Bill might not have been a human; but he was a person.

It was high time they start treating him like one.

####

Soos came home late in the afternoon with his truck laden down with supplies. Stan's car was gone, and when Soos came in with an armload of wooden boards he didn't see anybody around except Abuelita, napping in the living room, and Dipper, laying on the living room floor watching TV. "Hey dude," Soos whispered. "Where's everybody else?"

Dipper whispered back, "Hey Soos. Stan and Ford are at McGucket's mansion." He didn't look up from the TV. He was watching a rerun of Ghost Harassers on mute. "Mabel's with Bill in the floor room. He's in a bad mood about something so they've been doing karaoke all day."

"Huh." Soos could faintly hear someone playing his electric piano. It sounded like it was on the organ setting. "I didn't know he plays piano."

"He's alright," Dipper said. "His singing's terrible, though."

Soos shuddered. He could imagine.

Well, at least it meant Bill was out of the way. Soos began his first of many trips upstairs.

####

"What's all this racket?" Stan trudged upstairs to inspect Soos's noises—and abruptly stopped at the top of the stairs as he almost ran into a wooden beam. "What the—?"

"Oh, hey Mr. Pines!" Soos hooked his hammer on his tool belt. He'd put up wall framing to section off the corner of the attic floor that included the window seat.

Stan circled around the framing, inspecting it in bafflement. "Soos, what the heck is this?"

"So, remember at the beginning of summer, when I said that me and Melody were thinking about putting in a gaming room-slash-guest room in the attic? And Ford said not to bother until Bill was gone because he wouldn't be here long enough for me to finish? Welp! Sounds like he's gonna be here long enough for me to finish now! So I thought, hey, might as well, right? No reason not to!" He shrugged. "By the way, do you think I should put the door in front of the stairs, or on the long side of the room opposite the window? If it's in front of the stairs, you can just walk right in the room when you come up, and we'd be able to put a big screen on the long wall; but when you're walking out of the room it'd be really easy to forget the stairs are there and fall, and uh, we already have enough of a problem with that—"

Stan finally got his dropped jaw working again. "But this is where the demon sleeps! Where are we supposed to put him now?!"

"Oh, it's fine! Bill can keep sleeping in here. I'll put up a curtain instead of a door for now. This way the room's ready for gaming once Bill's gone." Soos planted his hands on his hips and surveyed his handiwork with pride.

"Are you crazy? You're giving Bill his own room?! No way! He could do anything in private. We can't trust him with that—"

"Listen." Soos gave Stan a serious look. "Mr. Pines, I respect you, and I love you like the dad I never had except technically I do have a dad but he's off being a deadbeat in Florida or something so he doesn't count."

He pointed at the floor. "But this is my house now. My name might not be on the deed, but my butt is in the master bedroom! And nobody under my roof is living like—like—like some kind of starving hobo sleeping on a bench under a newspaper, you know what I'm talking about? The Mystery Shack is a happy place! Where people come to see dreams come true and have their imaginations expanded! And I won't see it turned into some sad one-man prison!"

Stan stared at Soos, speechless.

"So." Soos took a deep breath. "With all due respect—I'm building a gaming room, and it'll have walls, and Bill gets to sleep in it. Because he's a person! And we're gonna treat him like one!"

Stan slowly looked from Soos to the wall framing, to the boxes of supplies he'd bought for the room and pushed against a wall to wait—to the pathetic couch cushion bed still sitting on the floor in front of the window. "All right. That's—that's fine. I'll let Ford know."

Soos's shoulders relaxed. "Thanks, Mr. Pines."

Stan clapped a hand on Soos's shoulder; looked for a moment like he wanted to say something; then just shook his head and said instead, "Knock off the hammering before the kids go to bed, all right?"

"No problem! I've gotta set up some furniture and stuff in here anyway." He got back to work as Stan went downstairs.

####

Soos paused his work when he overheard Bill's voice: "Hey Stanford. Figured out the kitchen situation yet?"

Soos had to strain to hear Ford (jeez, Bill was loud) as he said, "We haven't had a chance yet. For now, we can at least leave one of the counter cabinets open."

"Huh." It didn't sound like an impressed huh. "And will this open cabinet have any of the foods you put in the cabinet to hide from me? Or just more of the junk I've already been scavenging."

Ford was silent long enough to provide the answer.

"Right."

"I went by the grocery store," Ford offered. "I got avocados."

"Uh huh."

"And several pepper varieties."

"Ooh." Bill sounded intrigued in spite of himself.

"And protein drinks. They're nutritious, at least," Ford said. "But—I know that's not adequate. Stan and I will have something permanent figured out by the end of the week."

"I guess it's fine as an emergency measure," Bill said, "but you know how the phrase goes! Give a triangle a protein drink, and it'll eat for a day. Teach a triangle to open the fridge, and it'll eat for the rest of its life. If you lift that curse..."

"We'll talk. But don't get your hopes up. Neither of us likes the thought of giving you the power to come in our bedroom and smother us in our sleep the next time we have an argument."

"Fine." Bill's voice had hardened again. "You've got to the end of the week. But don't forget! If I don't like your offer, I don't have to take it! You can't keep me in this rickety barn anymore."

"I haven't forgotten."

The conversation seemed to be over and Soos didn't hear anyone coming up the stairs. He got back to work.

He felt good. He was doing the right thing.

####

When Mabel came up to bed, she stared in confusion at the modified attic floor, squealed in excitement when she realized what she was looking at, surprised Soos with a hug, and gushed about how great it was; and then she let Soos know Dipper and Ford were out tonight investigating weird stuff and went on to bed herself.

The first notification Soos had that Bill had come upstairs was a flat, offended, "What."

"Oh, hey!" Soos ducked out of the opening he'd left for the doorway—which he'd ultimately decided to put straight across from the window, to let a little light back into the attic. (He'd have to add more lighting in the main attic now that the window was blocked off.) Bill was standing at the corner of the new room, surveying the work with an expression of deep suspicion.

Soos said, "I was just getting started on this gaming room Melody and me wanted to put in—it's okay though, you can keep using it, we'll just turn it into a gaming room, uhhh... lllater. Whenever, it's cool!"

Bill turned his suspicious look on Soos; but when Soos gestured for Bill to follow him into the room, he reluctantly followed.

"Yeah, I got up the framing," Soos said, "but I couldn't get to the drywall today, so I just stapled up some tarps to be walls for now. But, look!" He gestured grandly. "I brought up the old orange sofa and chaise thingy that used to be in Abuelita's room! They've been in storage for like a year. I bet we could sit, like, six people on it for game nights. It turns out the sofa's a daybed, so we can use it as an extra guest bed for visitors, we do not have enough beds for visitors in the shack, haha. And, check it—" Soos flipped up the lid on a chest he'd placed in front of the right end of the sofa like a footrest. "I put in one of those top-down chest fridges for gaming snacks! It uh, the top of it swings up, that makes it a lid instead of a door, right? Sooo I guess you can use it too, right? You can just, put whatever you want on the weekly grocery list, and we'll put it in here. Oh, and!" He pointed at the ancient TV console table he'd hauled up from the cellar, "I set up a hot plate here, too! So you can cook stuff in the attic! For—for normal legitimate gaming room purposes."

Bill's gaze followed where Soos pointed, from the ancient orange sofa to the fridge chest to the hot plate. He didn't say anything. His expression was completely unreadable.

Soos swallowed. "Oh, and, by the way, speaking of home improvements, I took out the doorknob on the main bathroom, and put in one of those, like, little slidy dealies like public bathroom stalls? Plus I gave the door those swinging hinges—like the kind on saloon doors in the movies, o-or, say, the door into the gift shop—"

Bill whipped around to face Soos.

Soos jumped. He laughed nervously and tried to remember what point he was making. "S-so, um... there's no latch now, so it doesn't latch, which means there's no way to accidentally get locked in—or out, of the bathroom, and... and I don't actually know how much of that you understood, due to the whole curse thing? Just forget everything I just said, I guess, the important thing is you can use that bathroom without asking someone else now! Cool, right?"

He had to turn away from Bill's intense gaze, pointing back at the gaming room's doorway. "Anyway since the room isn't finished yet and you're probably gonna use it for a while, I hung up a curtain instead of a door. And I added that cool zodiac spell blanket thing Mabel gave me inside the curtain! Since you said you liked it so much when you first got here. And like... having it in our room kinda creeps Melody out, I think it might be giving her nightmares? So I thought you might like it better. Anyway I've still gotta do some other stuff, like add power outlets in here, and air conditioning, and... a-and..." He petered out weakly.

Bill was giving Soos the most venomous look he'd ever seen. 

"Sure. Terrific." Bill crossed his arms, seething. "I've slept on the floor, I can cope with sleeping in the middle of a construction zone too. No big deal! I'll make do."

"Oh," Soos said. "Uh... if it bothers you, I could try to get the walls finished tomorrow? Shack's closed tomorrow too, so, I was already planning to keep—"

Teeth grit, Bill snarled, "Don't put yourself out on my behalf."

Soos froze. "Oookay! Uh... well, I'll be getting ready for bed if you need... yeah, no, you—you probably don't need anything. Bye." He ducked out into the attic, letting out a whoosh of a sigh as soon as the curtain swung shut behind him.

Bill had looked like he was two seconds from ripping out Soos's throat. Why? Had he liked sleeping on the floor? He'd never seemed like he had. Maybe he'd preferred the attic's open flooring? Maybe he hated extremely 70's orange upholstery? Was this a mistake...?

Bill watched through the tarp until Soos was down the stairs. Then he lunged over the sofa, hanging over the back by his waist, to reach the attic window seat. He groped for the corner of the seat cushion where he'd hidden Journal 4.

He sighed in relief when he felt the familiar rectangular block in the cushion. He pulled it free: there was Journal 4, along with his two stubby crayons. As well as two marker pens, black and red, with a sticky note wrapped around them that said, "Thought these might be useful, dude!"

Bill's hands trembled with fury.

####

Soos was brushing his teeth when someone pounded on the bathroom door, making him drop his brush. The door swung open a couple of inches; Soos heard Bill mutter a confused, "What?" before it swung shut again.

Soos opened the door. "Bill? What's..."

Bill's face was completely flushed. It was hauntingly reminiscent of the look he'd had last year right before trying to murder Soos and the kids in Stan's mind. His rage had shot past "apoplectic" and landed on "apocalyptic." Soos understood how Pompeii had felt when the rumbling began. He took a few steps back.

Bill stalked into the bathroom.

He slapped the red pen down on the counter.

And, avoiding eye contact, he muttered, "Fine-tip yellow highlighter would be better. If you've got it."

"Oh," Soos said. "Sure, I... I think I have some skinny highlighters in my office. Just... lemme finish brushing my teeth."

####

Bill leaned in the office doorway, arms crossed tight, waiting. As Soos rummaged through his desk supplies, back to the door, he got the uneasy feeling that maybe Bill had lured him here to stab him in the back or something. He seemed mad enough. And the office was narrow; if Bill came up right behind him, there'd be nowhere for Soos to dodge...

When he found a new highlighter and turned around, Bill was glowering inches behind him.

Soos jumped. "Dude! You freaked me out."

Bill didn't condescend to respond. He just snatched the highlighter out of Soos's hand and stormed from the room. A moment later, Soos could hear him stomping up the stairs (and stumbling on one step. Soos really needed to figure out how to make the stairs more safe). 

For the life of him, Soos didn't know how he'd offended Bill.

####

The contraband supplies Bill had hidden behind a loose board in the wall still appeared to be undisturbed. He could only hope Soos hadn't found them during his snooping. For tonight, he could hide Journal 4 there; tomorrow he'd have to find a new, more secure hiding spot that kept it close enough to where Bill slept.

He turned around the hanging zodiac blanket and curtain so Bill's watchful triangular face was guarding the new attic hallway rather than staring into the room.

He surveyed his atrocious new sofa. If he'd known he would be plagued with this thing in the future, he would have found a way to make Ford get rid of it thirty years ago. Would Ford have thrown it out if his blessed Muse had told him it looked hideous? Maybe, but that would've put a ding in Bill's benevolent image. He could've said the sofa would lead Ford to doom? No, too implausible. Ford had always wanted a nice set of leather furniture; maybe if Bill had claimed the cost of leather furniture was about to skyrocket, and if Ford ever wanted to build his dream sophisticated gentleman's den then he should buy as soon as possible—maybe sell his current sofa to recoup costs and free up space... Yeah, Ford would've eaten that up, he'd have been so grateful Bill was thoughtful enough to care about his silly little life dreams and look out for his financial future. He shoulda done that. Hindsight.

So. What did he have here? A daybed; personal fridge; mini-stove; walls (tarp); two pillows; throw blanket; two markers; a lamp (unplugged); a clock radio (unplugged); a low console table with two shelves, onto which Soos had emptied the contents of Bill's cardboard box of clothes; and an implicit promise to keep a pile of secrets.

How humiliating.

He considered sleeping on the bare floor in protest; but, his back still hurt. Once again, subject to the tyranny of an organic body. He sighed, pulled his bedsheet from the console table, and curled up on the sofa.

The moment he lay down, a scent soaked into the seat cushion made his heart leap into his throat. He was sure he could smell home. Familiar and comforting and right—and for a moment the evidence of his other six senses didn't matter: he had his power back, he was in his kingdom, and all was right with the world. It took a moment to figure out what about the scent had so strongly disoriented him: he was smelling the atmosphere of the Nightmare Realm.

And then took another moment to work out that it wasn't really the Nightmare Realm, but a very similar scent—sulfurous, organic, burning. Burnt hair.

The cushion still smelled like Ford.

Bill groaned in frustration, rolled off the sofa, and flopped to the floor.

After permitting himself a moment of rage at the injustices of the multiverse, Bill crawled up onto the chaise lounge on the left end of the sofa, avoiding the part of the sofa where Ford used to sleep.

The chaise was smaller than his floor cushion bed used to be; but he'd make do.

####

(I know we're all busy going insane over the website but i'd love a comment when y'all read this chapter lol)

[skynapple]

{Based on a conversation between me and b @caisjunlis}

"Is your boyfriend joining us?"

"My... what?"

The term had come up, once or twice, the young huntress couldn't possibly imagine why. As if on queue, the subject in question walked over and put his head on her shoulder from behind, having no concept of the conversation.

"Hmm?" Xavier hunmed sleepily, "What are you guys talking about?"

Their coworkers all looked delighted suddenly. "Oh good! Xavier, we're having a picnic on our lunch break. Sort of. We're going to eat outside on the grass, it's BYOB. You're coming with her right?"

A soft smile came to his lips. "Pretty sure food is her middle name." Lifting his head he looked at her tenderly. "Should I go home and cook something for us?"

Compete horror filled her gaze. "No, no! Not necessary! I'm ordering delivery as we speak! We'll see you guys!" Phone in one hand, his in her other, she stalked away in the other direction.

To her coworkers, it was no question they were in a relationship. So much so, that any notion they weren't together could warrant at least 5 or 6 eyewitness accounts complete with aa plethora of evidence, from colleagues who lived in their same apartment complex, to receipts on social media. Even to the outside ear, the use of the word "home" as if they lived in the very same air, not merely the same general building or area. Any other response to denial was met with the idea that maybe they thought they were keeping it secret, and badly so.

The rumors went from bad to worse, especially perpetrated by a nearby neighbor.

Xavier knew she would be home early that day, and was eager to see her. When he finally received word she arrived, he ran downstairs and through the door with such speed and ferocity in his gait that he'd sent the door slamming shut behind him with a mighty gust of wind, right into her arms, knocking them both over.

"Yeah, they're definitely fighting. Heard the door slam the other night. Couldn't hear what they were yelling about but their voices were loud."

Or other, sometimes suggestive situations turned out of innocent ones.

An issue with her lockpad sends her upstairs to stay with Xavier until security can fix it. The part needed won't be delivered for a week, so the whole time most of them believe she actually moved in with him (finally).

It was obvious to everyone else, except to them. Xavier didn't know that her thoughts swirled whenever he glanced her direction, he didn't know if her heart jumped in her chest the same way that his did at the mere mention of her. He only had the past to go off of, and the dark thoughts at night that made him wonder if all those times he was the one she pursued back then, if he would still be her star in this life too. And all the long, she might wonder just the same, that if this complete mystery of a man who was totally a monster when it came to fighting and duty to protect, and so soft in her arms, if he really, really saw her as someone special, too. For now, maybe colleagues who definitely spent the night cuddling, potentially in their sheets, was totally platonic. Sort of. Almost. To them only. For now.

[inexplicifics]

Hiya! I was wondering if you’d been having any luck making the Cats Among Wolves bunnies cooperate lately? If not, that’s cool. Plot bunnies are not the most cooperative creatures, but I figured I’d ask. I was also curious about what the writing process usually looks like for you if you were willing to explain it a bit. Do you tend to jump around between projects just following the inspiration, or do you write out at least a whole scene or chapter before letting yourself move around? How many times do you usually send a fic to Rose for betaing before you feel ready to release it? I always find different people’s processes so interesting.

So Cats Among Wolves is mostly not cooperating at the moment - I am weirdly low on Brain and the bunnies are not doing long-form very well just now. But here's a snippet from the Cedric & Axel fic:

Fuck, this is good, Cedric opines, sipping greedily at the soup Gaetan is holding for him. “The old Wolf knows his way around a kitchen,” Gaetan agrees, nodding. “I think I gained most of a stone the first winter I spent here.” “You needed it,” Eskel puts in. “All you Cats are too damn scrawny.” “Wolves are just absurdly big,” Gaetan sniffs. “And what are Vipers, then?” Eskel - teases. And Gaetan is grinning. Axel has never seen Gaetan so relaxed around an alpha before. Not even Cedric. But there’s not even a hint of tension in his littlest brother. He’s utterly unafraid. “Vipers are mostly perfectly normal sizes, Letho’s just special,” Gaetan says cheerfully. Letho smirks.

As to my writing process - oh gods, it's like a pogo stick. I often have eight or ten docs open, and I create a new WIP at least three times a week. (I am very easy to plotbunny. And I am surrounded by enablers.) I write until I get stuck and then I go to something else. Sometimes, if something really grabs me, I can get a whole longfic out in a week; sometimes I have to come back to it again and again until it clicks. My personal feeling is that as long as words are ending up in a row, it's all good.

I don't outline. Outlines kill fic for me. Once I've written down what's going to happen, why bother writing it again? Even for something like MBtT, I had the very loosest possible sketch of the plot and the desired relationships. I also can't estimate how long a fic is going to be to save my life. I thought MBtT was going to be 50K. I have to very deliberately keep from putting plot into things like prompt fills and flash fics, because once I've added plot, that fic isn't getting done in less than 10K.

I usually send the fic to Rose when it's completely done, and then do a pass through it once she's left comments, fixing all the plot holes she finds. Then she checks my work and I put it in the posting queue.

One thing I have found that helps me is that I color-code my docs. Blue is in progress, purple is ready for beta, and green is ready to be posted. It makes it easier for me to track things visually.

The other thing that really helps is cheer-readers. Because I try to only post finished fics, sometimes I'll start wondering if what I'm writing is really any good. Rose and Twist and Ray have all been wonderful at Encouraging me enthusiastically to keep going, and suggesting directions when I get stuck. Cheer-readers are great and I encourage writers to find them if they can.

Hope that was interesting!

[loveandleases]

⌂⌂Faq⌂⌂

Hey everyone, Lea here. I’ve gotten quite a few repeat questions, so I thought it was time for a little FAQ. If you’ve sent in questions and they’ve yet to be answered they’re likely in the queue.

Content Warnings?

Explicit sexual themes, explicit language, drug and alcohol use, morally questionable behavior, violence, verbal/emotional abuse, cheating.

Can we ask NSFW?

Yup, you can.

How explicit will the NSFW scenes be?

Each scene is dependent on the RO in question, for example M is a virgin, so their first NSFW scene will not be as hot and heavy as that compared to Ardent.

Scenes will be skippable with fade-to-black options. Each NSFW will be different due to what each Ro is interested in, and what the players are comfortable with.

Can we get back together with Chris? Not an option, but there will be flashbacks to when Mc and Chris were getting to know each other/dating.

Can we get the dog back? Do we have to?

Of course you can! Also, I can’t answer that due to plot reasons.

Do we have to have communication with Chris/Jade/Parents? There are moments where you must have contact with each of these people. But, there is a point where you can cut contact. There are ways to fix relationships/break them, not only yours but other characters as well.

Do we have to romance anyone?

The IF is romance-centered, but there will be a play-through that you can just have platonic relationships with everyone. So nope.

Is there a poly option?

There is! The v-poly route is with Kara and Isaac.

Has Cam always had a crush on MC? Will he always have one?

Cam has always had a crush on MC. Cam just wants MC to be happy, if that is with him or someone else, he doesn’t care. He is MC’s biggest supporter; he will be the best damn wingman. If MC is happy, Cam is happy.

Can MC feel angry, sad, happy about Chris and that relationship?

MC is going to feel some pain from the breakup even if they feel that things are better this way, because it was a relationship that had gone on for years. A whirlwind romance, betrayed by not only their fiancé but their sibling as well.  MC will have the option to feel specific ways about it now, but there will still be some hurt.

What can we choose in terms of A, B, C, and D?

Your MC’s name, gender identity, pronouns, appearance, etc. (for ex: first kiss)

Name your business and determine how you will run it.

Work with a Ro of your choice.

You can choose to fix your relationships with some characters, and those of people around you.

Dog breed, color, gender, and name.

You get to determine what your room in the apartment looks like.

Can we sleep with other people?

So, relationships will be set after a certain point, and certain characters will have issues with who you’re with. There are a few random characters that MC will be able to 'spend some time with'.

Can I send you art, stories, snippets, etc. of your characters/story?

Of course, I love seeing everyone’s head-canons of their MC’s and the other characters. I implore you to send me things!

When is the update?

Demo drop is soon, currently in beta. It’s update after that is tbd, I won’t publicly say until it’s close due to remove stress from myself.

Do not:

Interact with this IF if you’re under the age of 18!

Send rude asks. I don’t need it, you don’t need it.

I may have missed some and need to update the FAQ at a later point, but until then that's that. If you have questions that weren't answered feel free to send them in. I'll answer them when I can.

[maplebellsmods]

More Kisses Mod #3 + Bonus Sad Hug

More Kisses Pack 3 is finally ready! This new pack adds 2 new kissing animations. This time I've also included a sad hug animation. This is not romantic and can be used by any sim. This set of animations was also made in collaboration with Utoypa CC who worked on the animations. They make a lot of fun different animations. Check out their work because it is truly incredible! 

Searing Kiss

👇

Frenzied Kiss

👇

If you are familiar with More Kisses then you know that there are moodlets that happen after the kiss, I have now added a bunch of new moodlets over 30 and there can also be negative moodlets. I have also fixed the problem where every time after a kiss sims would get the first kiss moodlet. 

Finally, the soothing snuggle interaction has been something I have wanted in the game for so long. This interaction will be available to a sim who is close to another sim with, at least an 80+ friendship score and if the targetsim is sad. 

The sim will comfort the other sim by hugging them. Let me know what you guys think about having interaction for different situations. 

Soothing Snuggle

👇

Possible outcomes after the interaction

Known Bugs

The only thing I have noticed so far is if you want to run this animation, try to run it alone without anything else in the queue, that is how it will work best.

I would appreciate reports on any bugs that may arise.

Credits

Thank you to the pancake1 for their s4animtools this was so life-changing when it came to making animations available in-game!

Big thanks to Utoypa CC who always makes the best animations!

Requirements?

You need:

XML Injector

The Mood Pack (If your UI disappears or there are UI issues after you play an animation with a mod it is because the mood pack isn't properly installed or installed at all. Please make sure you make note of this.)

More Kisses Mod #1 (Not necessary if you download the All-In-One version)

BG Compatible

Future Plans and Updates

More interactions. Once I create more animations I will make the selectable interactions option. 

How to install the mod?

Choose the All-in-One Download or download More Kisses #1 Mod for this pack to work. Be sure to also redownload #2 if you want it in your game. I have updated More Kisses #1 and #2 for the latest patch so redownload it, to get the latest version.

Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/Mods <--- Place the package file here.

If your UI disappears or there are UI issues after you play an animation with a mod it is because the mood pack isn't properly installed or installed at all. Please make sure you make note of this.

Public April 7th

Download: Here

[wouldlesbianismsaveher]

Greetings, fellow women lovers!

Do you ever look at a woman in a relationship with a man and think "damn. that guy treats her awfully. she would have been much better off if she dated me another woman instead."?

I do. Often in fact. Here, we ask the eternal question: would lesbianism save her?

Submit your blorbos here, and have the internet judge their fate!

Plus, have a look at the spreadsheet to see who's already been submitted!

Rules:

One character per submission

if you include spoilers in your propaganda, please say so so i can mark it accordingly

No real people

No harry potter characters

Justification/propaganda is not necessary, but it is preferred

Be civil! any bigotry or harassment will result in a block

Queue is currently set at 1 post a day. Characters will be posted in order of submission.

FAQ under the cut!

Can we submit characters that are canonically bisexual?

Please don’t! Read this post for more information :D

What if the character is from a non-visual media? (a book, podcast, etc)

Don’t worry about it! Just mention that there aren’t any pictures of them, and I’ll find a book/podcast cover to use as the image. If you have a preference on which I use, just link it like you would a character photo.

can we submit fanart for the character photo?

You can use fanart, however you have to have permission from the artist. If any artists find their art on this blog when it shouldn't be, let me know and I will remove it immediately.

How long does it take for characters to be posted?

The queue currently has about two weeks’ worth of characters. Generally, expect about 1-3 weeks between submission and posting. If you want to be notified when it goes live, add your username into the form and I’ll tag you!

How can I contact you if I have any questions about/ suggestions for the blog?

My asks are open! I don’t bite, I promise, and I’m more than willing to change things up if needed :D

What if the character is from multiple medias?

List the one you want in the post title OR the overall name of the media in the “source media” section, and then list anything that you also want tagged in the “additional information" section. For example, if you wanted to submit Superhero Lady, you might put “Marvel Cinematic Universe” in the source media and then “Superhero Lady Is Cool, The Movie", "Superhero Lady Returns", "Superhero Lady: Avengers” in the additional information section. Please be clear with where the character is from, as I don’t know 90% of these characters.

What else is the “additional information” section for?

Anything you want to let me know, really. If your propaganda contains spoilers, then you can say so here. Tags you want added or other names for the source media can also be added, as stated above. Additionally, by default I refer to all characters as “she”, so if you want me to use another pronoun, you can let me know here.

What do you count as spoilers?

Any information about the plot of a media that has been out for a month or less at the time of submission, and any major plot information/ plot twists/ reveals that may significantly impact somebodies experience of any media, regardless of the release date of the media. This does not apply if you are submitting characters from classical literature.

Brought to you by Mod M (they/she). If I ever do something stupid and/ or incompetent, let me know so I can fix it. My only qualification for running this blog is that I'm currently winning lesbianism.

Inspired by blogs such as:

@couldtransitionhavesavedthem @couldaromanticismsavethem @couldpolyamorysavethem @couldtransitionsaveher @couldfatnesshavesavedthem @is-your-blorbo-neurodivergent @aretheyqueer

[hannahssimblr]

I wander through the food stalls in the late afternoon once I’ve inevitably lost the others, and join a long queue for food. Chips. This seems to be ninety percent of my diet these days. Chips and the kinds of sweets from the corner shop that burn the coating off my tongue. I pay for them and some sad, limp looking hotdog and wolf them down before hopping into the queue for the bar. I get three beers, all with the lids confiscated. Necking them all is the only way to avoid the inconvenience of carrying them upright for several hours, and while I do it, I wander through the festival in a relatively aimless search of a familiar face. 

The festival is in a field, or several, somewhere. I really have no sense of where I am according to a map. By the edge of the campsite, a path meanders into a small wood decorated with ribbons and hanging lamps in the foliage overhead. Acoustic melodies drift down the winding path as I pass couples in hammocks and groups of friends seated in the shade among the wildflowers. 

There is a smaller stage here, wooden, with a tarp hung overhead, housing musicians who play a lazy tune to a crowd on the picnic blankets and cushions scattered across the grass. A group of people in weird clothing dance in a circle, doing the type of moves people only seem to do when they’re familiar with the bong. Swaying, arms loose and hair, (because they all have long hair,) swishing across their backs. I seat myself on the grass in the dappled shade of an oak tree to finish my last beer, watching them as I let the alcohol slowly take over my body with that familiar, hazy weight. 

Eventually, one dancer sees me. Our eyes meet across the clearing and I feel embarrassed for looking at all. She smiles this slow, tranquil smile and begins a slow dance in my direction. 

“Fuck sake.” I think. “Why was I looking? Now I’m going to have to speak to this weird hippie-”

“Are you joining us, or are you just having a look?” She has a country accent I don’t recognise, but since I’m ignorant of all that exists outside of Dublin city, this much is not surprising. 

“I’m just, uh, I’m just looking, I suppose.”

“You seem a wee bit glum.”

“Right well, I’m fine, so.”

“I assumed you were looking over at us because you felt like a dance, but were feeling shy.”

I hack out a laugh. “What? No. No, I don’t dance like that.”

“‘Like that’? Like what?”

I peer over to the others behind her, one of which appears to believe he’s floating through time and space. “I’m not even nearly stoned enough, to be honest.”

“Ah, well, easy fix there. You could be stoned.” She sticks her hand into the pocket of her big patchwork skirt and offers me a rolled joint, but I shake my head and push it away. “Look, thanks, but I don’t smoke.”

“Do you do anything else?” she rummages through another pocket. 

“Not right now.”

“What’s wrong with now?”

“It’s about four in the afternoon.”

“It’s a festival. We don’t currently exist under the constraints of society. You don’t have to wait until it’s dark to do pills here, or whatever it is you think. You can be a free man, anybody you want to be.”

I shake my head. “You’d only be wasting them on a stranger. Don’t.”

She plonks next to me in the grass. The smell from her clothes is like the health food shop in town, where Jen buys those enormous bags of sesame sticks to munch with deliberate obnoxiousness in the middle of religion class.

She says, “You seem forlorn. I have this sense that you ought to be happier.”

I regard her for a moment, her red curls wild, the sun catching a halo of frizz around a circular face. “Look, if you’re coming over here for some other reason, like, you know… if this is about you wanting to-”

“I don’t fancy you, or anything like that.” She says, then, after I pause, she adds, “sorry to shock you, but I’m not interested.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you offended?”

I hesitate. “No.” 

“You’re hardly making an assumption because I’m a girl doing something nice for you, are you? This doesn’t mean I want something more from you. You get that, right?”

I shrug. 

“Because that’s what boys do. They’re only nice to girls they think are hot.”

“Speaking from experience?”

She sighs, a great, long sigh of something like satisfaction with herself for having figured me out. “See, you would have been quite mean to me in school, wouldn’t you?”

I survey her for a few moments, then decide on cautious honesty. “Probably.”

“I’m healing at the moment. I’m seeking empathy for the kinds of people who I feel resentment towards. I thought I’d come over and offer you, and by extension every sporty, slightly ignorant boy from my secondary school…” She pulls a small baggie out of that skirt pocket and her face lights up with surprised delight, “ketamine! See it as a peace offering.” 

I ignore it until she puts it away. 

“You actually remind me of my friend.” I tell her.

“Interesting.” 

“She’s got the same hair, whenever she doesn’t straighten it, and stuff, it’s kind of curly like yours.”

“Ah, and is she also a massive babe?”

I pause.

“God. I was joking. You can say that she’s pretty without slipping up and complimenting me, too. Don’t worry, I won't get the wrong idea.”

“Yeah, Alison’s pretty. She doesn’t really, um, wear the clothes you wear, or anything, there’s just something about your hair, I suppose, and parts of your face that remind me of her.”

“Is Alison here today?”

“No, she’s in Dublin. I… yeah.”

The girl grins and bites her lip impishly. “So this friend, is she just a friend, or do you love her or something?”

I’m rendered momentarily speechless by the strangeness of this conversation. Who is this person, this Alison imposter? I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t like that with us. She’s a friend.”

“But you want more.” She prompts, and I furrow my brow. “You’re fairly nosy. Did you know that?”

“You’ve just started telling me this. I’m only listening to you.”

“Fair enough. I don’t know, anyway, maybe I wanted more at a certain time, but I’m just kind of like that with a lot of girls, like, I just get, like, feelings about them. It’s the main thing that’s wrong with me at the moment.”

“Explain that to me some more. Do they not feel it back, or?”

“Well, that’s not the issue, usually.”

“Ah,” she says, “You’ve got other, deep dark, brooding things going on, then.”

I lay my empty beer bottle on the grass. It tips over and rolls down the little incline where we sit, out of reach. I leave it there. “I suppose.”

Someone in the band has whipped out a sitar, sending psychedelic sounds over the crowd, and I sort of feel like my body is ascending to another realm, transported right back to that time Jen and I did mushrooms in a carpark and all the vehicles started looking like big weird bugs. It's dreamlike, transcendent, like I’m not real, and nothing I say holds any weight. I’m just a soul in the woods with a ginger girl in fairy clothes offering me bags of pills. 

“So, are you sad about Alison?” She says. 

“That’s part of it.”

“And the other parts, are they related to women, too?”

“Everything’s related to women a bit, isn’t it?”

“I’m very curious about what’s wrong with you.”

I let out a short, self-conscious laugh and pluck a blade of grass from the ground. 

“You don’t have to tell me. I just wonder what has you sad and alone in absolutely glorious weather, on the first day of a festival.”

“That’s why you came over, is it?”

“Yeah, in part. I’m saving you the same way I’d save a baby bird chucked out of its nest.”

“You look like you’d do that,” I say derisively, “and you'd disrupt the entire hangout so you could call the SPCA.”

She doesn’t flinch. “Yeah, ‘cause I would.”

“Okay, well, you could be working on me for a while. I think there’s everything wrong with me currently, so.”

“Well, I’m high as fuck, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Right.” I concentrate intently on the grass in my hand, folding it, knotting it, then breaking it apart, centimetre by centimetre. The girl, Not Alison. Weed Alison, sits there patiently as I repeat this process, plucking grass, fiddling with it, breaking it, flicking the bits away.

There’s a chance, I realise, I am becoming a weird man. A man who does things like this, who sits with a person he has never met before, and begins telling her private things about himself. Next thing I know, I’ll be fifty-eight years old and doing this to college girls on the bus as they try their best to ignore me and look out the window as I miss their every signal. The outlook isn't great.

This girl is asking questions because she is overly interested in other people’s lives and sees me as something amusing to be played with. Intellectually, I know this, yet there is a part of me that believes she has genuine concern for me and my wellbeing, like I really am some rejected baby bird. I experience a wave of momentary anger at her for confusing me until it becomes suddenly clear that I am angry at myself for the things that I feel. 

Still, the truth, having been given permission to emerge, rises in my stomach like bile.

I’m horrified to feel emotion swelling behind my face, and wait a long time to speak, in case my voice cracks and humiliates me. “I think I’m in love with someone.” 

“Oh, right,” she says, like this piece of information is not as astounding as I assumed it would be. “Someone other than your Alison friend.”

“Yeah, someone else.”

“Another she? Or a he, this time?”

I huff out a laugh. “A she.”

“Have you mentioned it to her?”

“God, no.”

“Do you plan to?”

“It’s pretty obvious to me that she’s better off not knowing.”

Her face lights up. “Ah, because she’s together with somebody else. Your friend, right? Your best friend.”

“Why are you making this into a soap opera? She’s not with anyone else... I don't think. It’s just, logistically. It’s not right.”

“So you’re kind of… not following your heart.”

“Fucked if I know what I’m doing, to be honest.” 

“Well,” she says, leaning thoughtfully onto her elbows, “What would happen if you told her about what you’re feeling?”

I glare at her in outrage.

She blinks. “Well, don’t you think she might like to know?”

“No, it’d be the worst thing possible. I’ll ruin her.”

“Maybe it’d be worse if you didn’t tell her.”

I have to stare at her for several seconds while I formulate a response. “It’s best for us both that I say nothing.”

“You have to tell her. What if she feels the same? What if she’s just waiting for you to say something? What if you’re both afraid for the same reason? What if you miss your chance and never get another?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Have you ever kissed her?”

“No.”

She gasps, eyes dancing. “You must. What if it’s fab?”

“That’d be worse than not doing it at all.”

She cocks her head, “I don’t understand you. What about this love you supposedly feel?”

“It’s just a summer thing. I’ll get over it.” 

A sigh. “Okay”

“I always do.”

“Until you don’t.”

I narrow my eyes. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you do until you don’t. I thought that too, once, and then-”

“Eimear!” One of the dancing hippies calls out to her as the melody changes again, to something lively and upbeat. “Are you bringing your little chavvy friend to dance or not?”

She looks at me, and I shake my head firmly. 

“No,” she calls back, “He's decided against it.”

The group boos me heartily as she climbs to her feet, making such a scene with their disapproval that others turn to have a look, and to smile at me in that sympathetic way that you do to a child that is failing to fit in with his peers. I am a spectacle in football shorts among the harem-pantsed congregation. 

“Let yourself experience love.” Eimear says in parting, as serenely, she drifts towards her friends, twirling in a meadow of dog daisies. 

“Right, yeah.” I say, and get up to wander back the way I came, wobbly on my feet as the full force of the beers I necked in one go hits me all at once. And as I leave the strange, hazy dreamland behind and reenter the grungy reality of the main arena, I reach into my pocket and discover something that wasn’t there before. 

It’s a baggie with three pink, pressed ketamine pills. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 26 of 30

1860 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

Other than a few more patches of turbulence, and some very distracting heavy petting, you make it through your first flight relatively unscathed. Being in first class allows you to disembark quickly and make it through immigration before the majority even have a chance to join the queue. At baggage Yoongi and Hobi grab a cart and usher the rest of you out of the door. Namjoon looks uncomfortable at the thought of not helping with the bags but Jungkook clinging to his arm doesn't really allow him to be of much use anyway.

A private transfer is waiting for you all outside and you pile into the very back with Namjoon and Jungkook. Jungkook's leg bounces with anticipation, you can't help reaching out to hold him still. He looks up at you sheepishly, smiling shyly. Now it's finally down to just the pack he is starting to calm down, it seems mostly just his excitement for the vacation is left. 

Namjoon on the other hand seems to be becoming more and more anxious the longer the trip goes on, a problem you don't think is going to resolve itself anytime soon. 

Everyone else seems to be more than ready to get to the beach. Jimin and Taehyung are talking excitedly over Jin about what they want to do when they get to the villa. The doctor looks between the two of them with mild fascination on his face, like he is conducting research more than actively taking part in a conversation. And you can hear Yoongi's laughter before you see him and Hobi come around the corner.

It looks like Hoseok had offered to push the cart by himself, only for the cart to be a little wonky. It turns and runs away from him frequently, leaving Hobi to look more than a little panicked each time. Yoongi just giggles and lets it happen, making you think that perhaps he had offered more assistance before.

Eventually, he does manage to straighten the course long enough to get the cart close to the van, giving up about 10 feet out. Namjoon clambers out of the back and rushes over to help with the luggage. No one misses the glare he gives Yoongi.

"Oh loosen up Joonie." The Jackal sighs, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Namjoon on his cheek.

The bear just grumbles under his breath and continues to haul bags from the cart and into the trunk. It's a tight fit but he manages to squish them all in through spite alone. Yoongi slides into the driver's seat, Namjoon taking the passenger side, leaving Hobi to squish into the back with you and Kookie. 

Jungkook slides a little closer to you to allow more room for the human and leans his head on your shoulder.

"You smell different." He comments, burying his nose into your neck.

"Probably just the aeroplane air." You shrug not really thinking about it.

But Jungkook persists, his nose pressing deeper into your skin. He sniffs along your jaw, down your neck, all the way to your collarbones. That's where he lingers the longest. His tongue flicks out as he reaches your cleavage and you push him away giggling, your cheeks all of a sudden rather warm. 

"It's Jin." He states, eyes fixed on yours.

"What's me?" The doctor says testing in his chair.

"The thing that smells different... Y/N reeks of Jin."

"Well, they did just sit next to each other for hours." Jimin points out.

"That's not it... If that was it then Hobi would stink of Taehyung and he doesn't..." Jungkook twists his head.

You and Jin make eye contact waiting to see what conclusion the Bunny draws, hoping he might just drop it. But of course, he doesn't, and now the whole van is paying attention, even Yoongi glances occasionally in the rearview, although the amusement in his eyes suggests he already knows why you smell so strongly of Jin. 

"We... cuddled." You supply 

"Just cuddled?" Hoseok raises his brow.

"Why does it matter?" Jin interrupts.

"I don't suppose it does... Although Taehyungie is looking rather put out." Hoseok laughs, although there is an air of jealousy in his own tone. 

The panda looks less than impressed for having been called out and turns away from the group, pouting to himself. Jimin takes pity and drops the topic, trying to distract Tae instead and Jin seems content to remove himself too. 

Jungkook seems to make it his mission for the remainder of the car ride to make you smell more like him, running his hands across your waist, and kissing all along your throat. Ever since he kissed you for the first time, it seemed like he couldn't get enough of touching you. It also seemed like he had become far more comfortable with Taehyung and Hoseok too, you had caught him lusting after the pair on more than one occasion, although he hadn't quite worked up the confidence to do anything about it yet. 

The villa you pull up outside of has you do a double take. It's breathtakingly stunning. The grounds are lush, green, and well-manicured. The pool is large, with a jacuzzi section and a slide. The patio is littered with lounge chairs, with a BBQ and bar in the corner. You could probably spend an hour out here just exploring.

But Jimin grabs your attention as he throws open the front door and gasps. 

You follow him along to see what the excitement is about. Taehyung grins to himself as he watches you all take in the humungous living space. The villa puts your humble cottage to shame. A cinema screen takes up the far wall with beanbags and blankets layout before it. The kitchen is to die for and you can already see the way it has garnered Yoongi's gaze. 

Jimin takes the stairs two at a time, dragging Jungkookie with him in a rush to pick their own rooms. 

"Hey! Wait for me," Taehyung yells as he runs after the pair. 

Jin spots a hallway off to the side and takes it as his opportunity to wander off, leaving you with Namjoon.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask.

"Talk about what?" He mumbles.

"Why your mood is so sour." 

He had the sense to look a little bit guilty about his attitude. It's hard to miss the way he has retreated in on himself. He avoids your eyes, pretending to take in the new surroundings. You take his hand and lead him away from the living room and out onto the back patio. 

The back is almost more stunning than the front. A wondrous flower garden with plenty of places to get lost in. Namjoon seems to get a little caught up in the new environment. He takes you along with him as he admires different flowers. You aren't sure if he is genuinely enamoured with the place, or if he is just trying to avoid talking to you about his real issues. 

Eventually, you come across a bench and pull him to sit down with you. You sit side by side for a little while, watching as a butterfly flits past. 

"I don't want to ruin everyone's vacation." Namjoon sighs eventually.

"Then don't." You shrug.

"I just can't help but feel like I'm not doing enough for everyone. I could never have afforded anything like this for them." He leans his elbows on his knees and places his face in his hands. 

You reach across his shoulders to comfort him and he leans slightly into the embrace.

"Do you really think anyone cares that you aren't the one who paid for this trip?" You ask him.

"I care." He growls

"Namjoon, you need to get over this. It was one thing when you were the only one catering to a pack of four... But there are so many more of us now, it's unreasonable for you to think you should be the only one contributing anymore." The bear huffs defeated, it's like he knows you're right but he just can't let go. You hear him sniffle and your heart breaks for him. You turn yourself more into him, holding him tighter. His hands come away from his face and he pulls you into his lap. His face buries into the crook of your neck and he holds you for a while. 

He holds you until you are both sticky with sweat from the heat. The air around you two becomes unbearably humid by the time he lets you go just a little. He pulls back to look in your eyes, and you reach up to push the sweaty hair away from his forehead. 

"I'm still the pack leader. I want to do more for all of you." He whines in a petulant voice you've never heard from him before

"You do plenty." You point out, smoothing his hair down even more.

You play with the short strands, curling them around in your fingers.

"You provide so well for your pack Joonie. You put a roof over our heads, food in our stomachs, love in our hearts... You could never do more for us."

He takes in your words, blinking slowly.

"When... when you say love in our hearts. Do you mean that as a collective... or as an individual?" He asks

It's only then you realise what you might've admitted to. 

You think about it for a moment and he waits patiently for your answer.

"I mean it as both." You confirm. 

You can practically feel the way his mood shifts, his scent changing from acrid smoke to comforting warmth. 

"Could you... could you say it as an individual?" His expression turns shy.

"I love everything you do for your pack Joonie. I love how you protect us. and... I think I'm in love with you, just a little bit..." You say, suddenly going shy yourself. 

"I think I'm in love with you too, and I don't think I am the only one." He responds. 

You lean forward into his embrace and he kisses you softly once, and then twice, and then the kisses don't stop until you are both out of breath and you are panting in his lap. The sweat is dripping down your temples, the air sticky and gross, but neither of you pulls away regardless of how hot the world seems.

"Y/N-ah? Joon? Are you out here?" Jin calls through the bushes.

"Over here," Namjoon calls back.

He leans his forehead against yours and waits for Jin to stumble across the pair of you.

"Well, don't you two look cosy." Jin comments smiling at the pair of you. "And you look like you're feeling a bit better." 

He reaches out and ruffles Namjoon's hair. 

"The others sent me to find you, they want to play some game in the pool and apparently we need teams of four." He says.

Jin holds out his hand and helps you off of Namjoon's lap. You cringe when you feel how clammy your palm is in his. Suddenly, you could think of nothing more refreshing than a dip in the pool.

Next

Masterlist

Send me asks - doesn’t have to be fic related. Can be smutty, thirsty, fluffy, angsty, whatever you’re feeling regarding BTS. Can be literally anything doesn’t have to be BTS

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[infiniteeight8]

Tony and Stephen have a little kid. Tony is just a little bit jealous that the kid prefers Stephen and he is just a little bit obvious about it.

This is from, like, halfway through my prompt queue, and all the older prompts are great and I look forward to writing them, but I wanted my first one back from the IronStrange Week push to be a quick and easy one, and I already had an idea for this.

It’s a bit angsty, though. Sorry!

The child is an OC, any resemblance in names is accidental.

-

Andrew has always preferred Stephen. Even when he was a baby, he always calmed down faster with Stephen, smiled more with Stephen, managed all his firsts with Stephen cheering him on.

Tony hoped, privately, that when he got a little older, Andrew would appreciate him more. He’s four now, and it’s still Stephen that he runs to with his triumphs and Stephen that he wants comfort from.

Buying his affection isn’t the solution, Tony knows it isn’t, but it feels like the only way he can get Andrew excited and affectionate with him. Thank you hugs aren’t as good as I love you hugs, but they’re better than nothing. Even if they do get him in trouble.

“Tony, I already said no,” Stephen says after Andrew has run off with his latest toy. He’s frowning.

“Come on, he’s so excited!” Tony waves after their son. “How can that be wrong?”

Stephen sighs. “We’ve had this discussion. If he gets a new toy every week, all he learns is that everything is disposable, and he never gets to appreciate anything in depth.” They have had this discussion. Tony pauses a little too long, searching for a light response. Stephen gives him a searching look. “What’s wrong?

Damn it, Stephen knows him too well. “Nothing,” Tony says.

“Nothing means you don’t want to talk about it,” Stephen says. “But this is about Andrew. We need to talk about it.”

Tony rubs a hand over his face. “He doesn’t love me,” he finally admits. “I know buying him stuff isn’t a great substitute, but—”

Stephen takes Tony’s hand and pulls him over to sit on the couch, looking into his eyes intently. “Tony, Andrew absolutely loves you.”

Tony looks down at their clasped hands. “Not as much as he loves you.”

Stephen’s hesitation is telling. Andrew’s preferences are pretty obvious, after all. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You can’t,” Tony says, sighing. “I just… Everyone says that kids love unconditionally. I guess I thought—” He shrugs.

“He does love you unconditionally,” Stephen insists. “Okay, he has preferences, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”

Tony snorted. “I guess you still love me more than anyone else,” he says wryly.

Stephen just pulls Tony into his arms and holds him for a while.

[fxckadoodledoomunson]

Shopping Trolley |One-Shot|

Summary: While you look after your sick grandmother, Eddie is tasked to help with her shopping. The only problem is, his van being repaired, so your grandmother gives him something to help him carrying her shopping.

Warnings: swearing, Jason being a dick.

Inspired by this deleted scene from This Country.

You’ve spent the last couple of days, looking after your grandmother. She came down with a cold, and as she had no one else living with her, you had to stay at her place to take care of her. Your boyfriend, Eddie would pop round to check in on you both.

“She’s still feeling poorly,” you told him, as you watched her sitting up on her bed, watching television. You turned to him, asking him, “I don’t want to ask this, but could you help getting her groceries? I don’t want to leave her on her own.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie began to reply. “I would if I could, but my van’s still in the shop, and it won’t be fixed until next week. What about Harrington or Wheeler? Can’t you ask them?”

“If only. Steve’s got dates lined up this week, and Nancy’s working. Plus, they’re both taking turns with driving the kids.”

“I have something for you,” your Grandmother chimed in. “By the pantry in the kitchen.” You and Eddie went into the kitchen, and spotted a two wheeled black shopping trolley by the pantry.

“You can use it for the shopping,” your grandmother called out, before she began coughing.

A self-conscious Eddie stared at the trolley. It was bad enough that the most of the townspeople thought that he was a freak, but a freak with an elderly woman’s trolley? People would probably tease him more.

“Uh…sweetheart,” he began to tell you, “I’m not sure if I-“

“Eddie,” you interjected, as you cupped his face. “If you’re worried about what other people are going to think, ignore them.”

Eddie gazed at you, when you pleaded, “Please? It’s only until she’s well enough.”

Eddie shifted his eyes to your grandmother, who was blowing her nose.

He sighed, and turned his attention to you, telling you, “I’ll do it. But you owe me for this.”

You smiled, as you pulled Eddie in for a passionate peck. “Thank you. You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

Eddie blushed, as you moved your hands away from him, and you grabbed a shopping list from the counter, giving it to him, telling him, “Here are the essentials. I’ll get you some money.”

The moment Eddie got on the bus, he could feel everyone staring at him. As he went to find a seat, he heard the bus driver snicker. Eddie glared as he sat down. All through the journey, Eddie heard some people whispering. Every time he turned, they would stop. Eddie turned back and sighed, before muttering, “Ignore them, Munson. You’re doing it until she’s well enough.”

After Eddie got off the bus in town, he watched the bus drive by as he flipped off the gawkers, before pulling the trolley to the supermarket.

A moment later, Eddie was walking through the aisles with one hand pulling the trolley, another pushing shopping cart while holding the list in his mouth. Each time, Eddie would grab the list from his mouth, checking what else your grandmother needed, before clenching it with his teeth, as he continued his quest in searching for more essentials.

After finding everything your grandmother needed, he waited in the queue when it was finally his turn to be served.

As soon as the cashier started ringing through the items, Eddie started packing the trolley, starting with the carton of eggs and the loaf of bread when an old lady went up to him, and told him, “Oh no, you shouldn’t do that.”

At first, Eddie thought that she was scolding him for just shopping, but then, he heard her say, “The eggs and the loaf should go in last.”

He watched her take out some of the items from the trolley, as she sweetly told him, “Let me help you pack properly.”

As she helped pack the items in the trolley, Eddie softly spoke, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Elspeth,” she kindly replied, as she continued to pack everything. Eddie smiled, as he introduced himself.

After he had paid the cashier, Eddie pulled the full trolley, as he and Elspeth, who was pulling her own trolley, left the supermarket. “Are you okay?” Eddie asked. “I can pull it for you if you want.”

“There’s no need, dear,” Elspeth politely replied. “I may be an old lady, but I can still pull a trolley.” She then mentioned that when she was his age, she used to walk and carry things everywhere.

“You must’ve been really good at gym,” Eddie chuckled, making Elspeth giggle. Suddenly, Eddie saw the bus at the stop. “Shit,” Eddie muttered, when the doors began to shut. As the bus started to drive off, Eddie had let go of the trolley and ran towards it, as he cried out smacking the back of the bus, “Hey! Hey wait!”

However, the bus carried on driving. Eddie coughed, waving the smoke away, as he muttered, “Jesus H Christ.”

“Well, luckily you didn’t run with your trolley,”Elspeth called out, making Eddie turn to her. “Otherwise, you would’ve ended up with a sticky trolley.”

Eddie ran back to her when she asked, “When’s the next bus?”

Eddie checked his watch, replying, “In an hour.”

He sighed, as he looked around the street, when Elspeth told him, “I’ll tell you what. While you wait for the next bus, why don’t you join me and the girls for some cake and coffee?”

“Uh…”Eddie began to hesitate. “That’s very kind of you, but…do you really want to be seen with…someone like me?”

“Like what, dear?”

“Well…a freak.”

Elspeth scoffed, “Nonsense, who calls you that?”

“Well…everyone. Actually, not everyone. My girlfriend and her grandmother don’t, or my uncle. Oh, and my friends, well they’re also called freaks-“

Elspeth raised her hand to stop him rambling, before telling him, “Well, freak or not, I’d like you to join us. Besides, you can tell us about Metallica or Dio or whoever you kids are into these days.”

Eddie cocked his eyebrow, as Elspeth giggled, “Don’t be surprised that I know who they are. I have a grandson in Utah who’s a metalhead too.”

Eddie laughed, as Elspeth took his spare hand and took him inside the cafe.

Half an hour later, Eddie was happily chatting and drinking coffee with Elspeth and her friends.

Eddie told them that he was helping your grandmother with her shopping while she was still recovering.

“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” Elspeth’s friend, Agnes gushed. “Your girlfriend is a very lucky woman.”

Eddie blushed, when one of the other women, Eloise asked, “I wonder if Thomas will come today?”

“He said that he’s coming after church,” Elspeth replied, before sipping her coffee.

“Thomas? Is that one of your grandsons?” Eddie asked the women, who giggled.

“No, he’s part of our outing group,” Elspeth explained, as Eddie started eating his cake. “After his wife, Clara passed away, he was alone.”

“Well, he has his son and his family, but they have their own lives,” the other lady, Eileen interjected.

“As his wife was our close friend, we convinced him to join us,” Elspeth told Eddie. “We knew that she wouldn’t have wanted him to be stuck at home.”

“Wow, that’s really nice,” Eddie responded, when Elspeth suddenly grabbed a napkin with one hand and his chin with another , as she said, “You’ve got cream on your face.”

Eddie chuckled, while Elspeth wiped his face.

Suddenly, they heard a male voice cackle, “Look boys, the freak’s got new groupies.”

Eddie turned to find Jason and his lackeys stepping inside the cafe.

As Elspeth moved her hands away, Jason and his friends walked up to him.

“So, Munson,” Andy began to mock. “Does your girlfriend know about you cheating on her with a cougar-?”

Elspeth cleared her throat, giving the team a stern look. Jason’s eyes widened when he saw her sitting with her arms crossed. “Oh,” Jason exclaimed. “Hi, Mrs Grayson, how are yo-?”

“Oh don’t give me that, Jason, ” Elspeth retorted, while the other ladies glared at Jason and his goons. “Does your grandfather know how you treat your classmate?”

“Grandfather?” Eddie asked.

“Stay out of this, freak,” Jason retorted.

“Don’t speak to him like that,” Elspeth scolded.

“What’s going on here?” An older man called out, as he slowly walked towards the table with his walking stick.

Jason anxiously turned to him, as he stammered, “Oh, uh…it’s n-nothing, grandpa-“

“It wasn’t nothing, Thomas,” Agnes interjected.

“Wait!” A surprised Eddie exclaimed, before he pointed at the old man, asking him, “You’re Carver’s grandfather?”

“If you’re referring to Jason, then yes. I am,” Thomas replied, before asking, “So, what’s he done?”

Jason nervously chuckled, “It’s nothing-“

“He was being horrible to this nice young man here,” Elspeth interjected as she lightly patted Eddie’s shoulder.

“Is that so?” Thomas asked as he glared at his grandson.

“I-it was a j-joke,” Jason stammered, before turning to his friends. “Right boys?”

They nodded when Thomas scolded, “Joke or not, you should know better than not to treat someone disrespectfully. Now I want you boys to apologise to him.”

“Wait, but-“ Jason began to protest.

“Now!” Thomas interrupted.

Jason huffed, crossing his arms, saying in a spiteful tone, “Sorry.”

The women and Thomas glared at him, as he smacked his grandson in the back of the head, telling him to apologise properly.

Jason sighed, before apologising properly, “We’re sorry for being horrible to you.”

The other boys began to apologise as well, making Eddie smirk.

“Now,” Thomas began to tell Jason, “Be a good lad and get some drinks for the ladies and…”

Thomas turned to Eddie, who gave him his name. Jason nodded, before reluctantly heading to the counter to get the drinks.

After leaving the cafe, Elspeth and the rest of the ladies waited with Eddie at the bus stop, making sure that he got on.

“You don’t have to wait with me,” Eddie told them.

“Oh, we don’t mind,” Elspeth began to reply, before asking her friends, “Do we girls?”

The rest of the ladies commented that they also didn’t mind, and that they enjoyed his company.

“Will you be joining us again?” Agnes asked.

Before Eddie could reply, the bus pulled over to the stop.

“Well, this is me,” Eddie said, as the doors opened.

While some of the passengers we’re getting off, Eddie said goodbye to them, before thanking for looking after him.

“It was our pleasure, love,” Eileen replied.

As Eddie got on with the trolley, Elspeth called out to him.

“Yes?” Eddie replied, as he turned around.

“We left a little something for you in your trolley,” Elspeth replied.

Eddie thanked her and the other women, before getting on the bus and found a seat. The ladies waved goodbye as the bus drove off, with Eddie waving back at them.

A few moments later, Eddie pulled the trolley to your grandmother’s door and knocked on it.

“Just a minute!” He heard you shout, before you opened the door.

“Hey, you made it back,” you greeted him with a kiss, before he stepped inside. “You’re later than expected.”

“Sorry, I missed the bus,” Eddie explained. “I had to wait an hour for the next one.”

You took the trolley off him, and wheeled it into the kitchen, as Eddie asked how your grandmother was feeling.

“She’s still got a bad cough, but she’s getting a bit better,” you replied, as you opened the trolley and started unpacking. As you placed the items on the kitchen counter, Eddie started to put them away when you picked up a piece of paper. “Eddie?” You spoke up, making him turn to look at you.

“Yes sweetheart?” He asked.

You held up the paper and asked, smirking, “Why do you have Mrs Grayson’s number?”

A week or so later, your grandmother was feeling a little bit better and Eddie finally got his van back. But he still used the shopping trolley to help get your grandmother’s shopping, especially as it gave him a reason to catch up with Elspeth and the others.

One day, Eddie was gossiping with them while waiting at the bus stop with them until their bus arrived, unaware that you and Robin were watching him from the video store.

“I wish I had my camera,” you giggled.

“Maybe Stevie should join them,” Robin snickered. “It might help him find his own Mrs Robinson.”

The two of you cackled, whilst spying on Eddie.

“Very funny,” Steve sarcastically replied, as he stopped typing and got off his stool. “Are you two gonna keep spying on Munson, or are you-?”

Steve paused for a moment, as he watched Eddie laughing, while one of the ladies, who was wearing a pink wool hat, pointed at the store. Steve gaped, realising who he was talking to.

“Oh shit,” Steve exclaimed, causing you and Robin to turn to him, looking confused.

“What?” You asked.

Instead of answering you, Steve swung the door open, as he said, “She better not have told him about Mr Snuggles.”

You and Robin watched Steve run across the street towards Eddie and the pink wool hat lady, as you asked, “Is that his-?”

“Yep! His grandmother,” Robin confirmed, as you both watched Steve covering a laughing Eddie’s mouth with his hand, while his grandmother slapped his hand away, whilst scolding him.

“I guess she told Eddie about Mr Snuggles,” Robin said, before the pair of you laughed.

[canirove]

Rúben Dias Imagine | three

Author’s note: Wasn’t going to write anything for Rúben’s birthday, but then I got inspired after watching a reel on Instagram about a girl meeting an actor while queing to go to the bathroom, and here we are 😅 Hope you like it and thank you for reading! 💜

And happy birthday, Ru 😁

Masterlist

"I shouldn't have had that last drink."

"Told you."

"I know you told me" Alexa says, rolling her eyes. "But if a cute guy asks, you just say yes."

"He isn't that cute."

"He is cute. And now he's probably flirting with someone else because he is tired of waiting for me. What is taking them so long? It's just a wee!" she says, looking at the queue in front of us.

"Maybe only one bathroom is working" I shrug.

"Oh, great. Just great!" Alexa says. "I'm gonna miss the chance to hook up with a cute guy, and I'm gonna pee my pants!"

"The hooking up maybe is for the better" I shrug.

"I hate you" she replies, sticking out her tongue. "But talk to me."

"What?"

"Talk to me. If I'm listening to you I don't think about needing to pee, so talk to me."

"About what?" I ask.

"I don't know. Maybe the hot guy you've been checking out since we arrived?"

"I haven't been checking out anyone.”

"We've been queuing here for what feels like an eternity, and you haven't been able to stop looking at the guy standing next to the men's bathroom."

"Ok, fine. I've been checking him out."

"Because he's hot."

"Very hot” I sigh. “And I wonder why he isn't going in. I've seen guys coming in and out and… oh. Oh!"

"Oh what?" Alexa says.

"Just wait here."

"What?"

"Wait here" I repeat, walking towards the hot guy, his eyes fixed on his phone. "Hello?" Nothing. No answer. But damn, this close he is even hotter. "Excuse me" I insist, raising my voice a bit.

"Uh?" he murmurs, finally looking up.

"Hi, sorry to bother you" I say, giving him my best smile. "Do you know if there is anyone in the bathroom?"

"I… I don't know, sorry" he smiles, scratching the back of his head and showing a bicep the size of my head. 

"Could you do me the immense favour of going in and check? The queue for the girls' bathroom isn't moving, and I fear my friend's bladder may explode any moment now."

"Yes, sure" he chuckles. 

As he goes into the bathroom, I turn to look at Alexa.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Just wait" I reply.

"It's completely empty" he says from the door a few seconds later.

"Great, thank you! Alexa, come!"

"What?"

"Come here!"

"I don't want to lose my spot on the queue!" she protests.

"Just come here" I say, rolling my eyes.

"Fine. What do you want?"

"This wonderful gentleman here has checked that there is no one inside so you can use the men's bathroom" I explain.

"Really?"

"Yep. So go before something happens."

"Ok…" she says, looking from me to him and back at me before going in.

"Again, thank you very much" I smile.

"No problem" he smiles back. Though it doesn’t last long. "You gotta be kidding me" he says, looking at his phone.

"Did something bad happen?"

"My friends. I told them I wanted a quiet birthday, but they didn't listen, and besides dragging me to this club, now they've hired a stripper."

"Oh, wow" I laugh.

"Yeah" he sighs.

"Is that the reason why you've been standing here all alone for the past, what, 15 minutes? You are hiding from them?"

"I am, yes" he laughs. "Too lame?"

"Just a bit" I smile. "But Alexa and I are leaving. You can come with us if you want."

"You won't mind?" he asks. “We just met.”

"I know I won't" I smirk. "And I don't think she will complain either. You just saved her bladder."

"Ok" he laughs. "Where are you going, tho?"

"Not sure. Some guys we met said something about going to another club, but we don't have to go with them if you don't want to. It's your birthday, you should pick what to do."

"I should, shouldn't I?" he chuckles. "But I don't mind where we are going. What matters is the company" he says, giving me a look from head to toe that makes my body temperature go a few degrees up.

"I'm alive again!" Alexa says, storming out of the bathroom. "Oh, sorry. Did I just interrupt something?"

"No" we say at the same time.

"Are you sure? Because the sexual tension coming from you two is making me horny."

"Alexa!" I say, giving her my most murderous look. "Should we go see if your cute guy is still waiting?"

"Oh, yes! If you are getting laid tonight, so am I" she says, giving us a mischievous smile before walking away.

"I… umm… happy birthday?" I shrug.

"Happy birthday" he laughs, taking my hand on his and following Alexa.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Good morning, birthday boy."

"It isn't my birthday anymore" he chuckles while turning to face me, the bed complaining with the movement. How we managed to not break it last night, will remain a mystery. 

"Then happy unbirthday."

"Thank you" he smiles.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Best birthday I've had in ages."

"What was your favourite part?"

"Do you seriously have to ask?" he laughs, moving to be on top of me.

"I don't know what you are talking about" I try to shrug as he starts leaving kisses down my neck.

"Leaving that pub Alexa took us to was the beginning."

"I see… And then?"

"Then eating that pizza I shouldn't have eaten" he says, now kissing my shoulder.

"You loved it, tho."

"I did" he smiles against my skin.

"And then?"

"Then the walk around town."

"That was lovely. Anything else?"

"Kissing you" he says before doing it.

"A highlight of the night, yes. But I think that wasn't your most favourite part."

"What came after was" he smirks, starting to leave kisses on my chest.

"After?" I ask, feeling my body tensing under his.

"Coming to your place. Kissing a bit more. Taking off our clothes. Being in this exact position. And then…" he says, leaving a kiss below my belly button.

"And then?" I whisper.

"Then doing this" he says before disappearing between my legs.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Do you seriously need to leave?" 

"I do. I'm meeting with some friends."

"Striper friends?"

"No, not them" he laughs.

"I'm gonna miss you."

"I will miss you too" he says, kissing the tip of my nose. "But we can meet again. Maybe have a proper date?"

"That sounds perfect" I smile.

"Great."

"Great" I repeat.

"Now I have to go" he says, opening my flat's door. "Thank you for the best birthday and unbirthday ever."

"You're very welcome."

“And sorry for lying earlier.”

“What?” 

“When I told you that my favourite part of the night had been… well, you know” he smirks.

“You seemed to really enjoy it. And every time we did it.”

“I thoroughly enjoyed it. But all that wasn’t my favourite part. You were my favourite part. Spending it with you.”

“Aww, that’s cute” I smile.

“I know. I am very cute” he smiles back. “And very late, so I better leave. See you soon, ok?”

"Ok. But wait!" I say, stopping him as he turns his back at me. "You are forgetting something."

"Am I?"

"This" I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him as if my life depended on it. "A late birthday present so you don't forget about me."

"I won't forget about you, trust me.”

"You better" I threaten him with my finger. "Now you may leave."

"Ok" he laughs. "Bye."

"Bye" I smile as I watch him walk away down the corridor, crossing paths with my flatmate Caroline.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming and that I just saw you making out with Rúben fucking Dias" she says when we meet.

"What?" I laugh, walking into our flat.

"Rúben Dias? The Manchester City player? That was him."

"That wasn't him."

"Yes, it was. I would recognize that back and those biceps everywhere.”

“And I would also recognize him if I had spent the night with him” I say, letting myself fall on the sofa.

“Did you sleep with him?"

"I did."

"Oh my God!" Caroline says, sitting next to me. "You fucked Rúben Dias!"

"I didn't! It wasn't him!" I insist. 

"Then he now has a twin brother?" she laughs. "Did he tell you his name or used a fake one?"

"He… he actually didn't tell me his name. And I didn't tell him mine either."

"You what?"

"We were too busy talking and having fun, and when we came here there was no time and… Oh my God, Caroline. Oh my God! He said he wanted to take me out on a date and he doesn't know my name! And I didn't give him my phone number either! How will he find me?" I say, starting to panic.

"Well, he knows where you live. It’s something" she shrugs.

"I guess, yes…"

"But I still can't believe you hooked up with a guy, didn't share names because you were too busy flirting and then making out among other things, and he turns out to be Rúben Dias" Caroline laughs.

"Are you sure it was him?"

“Positive. But wait" she says, taking out her phone and looking for something. "Ha! I knew it! John Stones posted this story last night. Celebrating my mate's birthday, he says. And look who is the guy standing next to him in the photo."

"No… fucking… way.” Same messy hair, same brown eyes, same shirt with half the buttons undone for whatever the reason. It is him. The guy I've had one of the best nights and mornings of my life is... “I slept with Rúben Dias!”

“Told you” Caroline laughs. “Congratulations, girl.” 

“I slept with Rúben Dias”I repeat, realization kicking in. He was Rúben Dias. The Rúben Dias. Holy shit. 

[saintsenara]

Do you have a system for responding to submitted questions? Queries because I've already made some that were never answered and my questions got lost in the inbox. (not a criticism, I just don't want to send the same questions again when they may be in some system)

my system is that i answer all good faith non-personal questions eventually, and i answer some more personal ones on a case-by-case basis. the only things i point-blank won't respond to are questions which are looking to start a fight - if you've sent me an ask [especially an anonymous one] about a fic i think is bad, or you've sent me an ask about a fic you think is bad and have actually said that in the message, or you've sent me a link to a meta you want me to say is stupid... oops! tumblr's eaten it!

everything else goes in the drafts... and it stays there until i decide otherwise... and you and i might have a different definition of what constitutes a reasonable timeframe to have passed before we can say a question was "never" answered...

this is an extremely mid-tier flex [god knows there'll be people getting ten times this amount daily...], but in a typical week i get anywhere between 100 and 150 asks. i like and appreciate this, i don't consider it an imposition, and i'd still do this even if i didn't get a single word in the ol' askbox because yapping about harry potter is - for my sins - a hobby which i find fun...

and because it's a hobby, there doesn't need to be a system behind it. i answer asks when i want to in an order that i want to. and what dictates this order isn't fixed - i don't answer asks in chronological order, for example, because that sounds too much like hard work.

sometimes i want to bash out a tranche of short answers which don't take much mental energy, sometimes i want to dig into a hyperfocus loop and write a 5,000 word meta, sometimes i want to play an ask game, sometimes i want to talk about one particular character, sometimes i want to do nothing. there is nothing specific which needs to be delivered according to a deadline, because this isn't my job.

things will be answered when they're answered - and my queue has enough in it to take us well into spring 2025, so lots has been answered... i'm happy to receive multiple versions of the same question - i know some people regard this as annoying, which is their prerogative, but i enjoy having the opportunity to claim that people have been clamouring for my wisdom and so i'm not one of them.

i'm also happy to receive "did you get my ask/why haven't you answered my ask" questions because i will simply ignore them and go on with my day.

[lil-melody-moon]

Today is a full year of my obsession with Keith Moon. One year without a day of a break or any shifts of attention to anyone else. It's special to me, because it never happened before that I was this interested in someone, going so far as to get his biography and read it in English - I had no other choice, but I could still give up because it's not translated.

Being his fan brought much happiness to me. The music The Who made helped me carry on in the worst moments at university, it kept me alive, making me realise some things, but most importantly, I think it's beautiful how being Keith's fan fixed me.

I came back to reading and writing, something that was always my passion, I don't feel as lonely as I did two years ago somehow thinking about him got rid of it and I started to feel more like myself again - I'm still in the process of recovering my true self and I think I'm nearing the end of this difficult path, I started smiling more often, feel pure joy, just feel better in general thanks to him and the music he helped to create.

There's no way I could thank him for that, but I do like to believe that he sees everything from up above and he's still happy that he can make someone laugh and not feel sad anymore. I hope I will not lose myself anymore and that I can carry on with him by my side, because for now that's all I want. To always have some means to hear him drum and sing, see him on videos or just to see him in photos.

I adore him more than I thought I will anyone, so that's why, besides this big thank you, I also wanted to write a one-shot. It's a self-insert, self-indulgent piece that's heavily based on what I've read about him. Hopefully, the ones who'll read it will have fun reading it. The fic is under the cut:

It was a lazy, very lazy afternoon at the beach house at Victoria Point Road. Standing on the balcony, the sounds of the sea were the only things heard and that was depressing in a way. So much money went in this house, it was in the best spot somebody could live in. Californian beaches were the greatest as far as the girl could say, but that still didn't push away how lonely it could be there.

Used to the heartbeat of the city, always having somewhere to go, to drink and party usually, this calm was leaving scars on her mental state and her boyfriend's one. Calm days were at hand, she saw him lurking somewhere in the corner with a book, she decided to not disturb him. Not after what happened two days ago.

Keith was almost always drunk and high, exceptions being the days of break, such as these ones. Caroline left the house to go do some shopping, she told Keith where she was going, how much time it'll take her and when she'll definitely be back at home. She was always giving herself extra time if she was to take longer at shopping. Keith was all okay with it until she came back home, late for the first time in a while.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Came the shout when she closed the door. Only then did she realise she was late and a fight was already at hand.

Keith was drunk, not a single word was getting to him and so the yelling began. It almost ended in a physical fight when Keith lost his temper and raised his hand in an attempt to hit Caroline. She paled at that, but she didn't cover. "Come on, hit me!" she yelled instead. "Your drunk mind isn't capable of doing anything else than that!"

His hand didn't slap her cheek, his dizzy mind reminding him of why he lost his wife in the first place and he forgo it, letting his hand fall down. The relief that Caroline felt didn't show on her face, her expression stayed unchanged, still angry at him for lashing out at her for being late. From the very beginning she knew what she was signing herself up to, she only didn't expect it to be this bad.

A quiet "sorry" was mumbled, the anger disappearing, replaced by an emotion of regret. "I did come back" Caroline pointed out, her tone still cold. "I've got late because of the queue in the shop. I was rushing back home, knowing I might be a minute or so late, not this much." Her voice was becoming softer. She peeked at the clock seeing that she was almost 40 minutes late. Not what she wanted to do.

Caroline could guess that this moment started the calm days again, where Keith took a break from boozing. She only wished for the days to last longer, but she also knew Keith would grew bored of that and start the loop again. A sigh left her lips, these few days were only for her to prepare for the worst to come again.

How many times did she ask him to go seek help? She didn't know.

How many times did she plead him to go to rehab and promise that she'll help him get better? She hadn't had a clue.

How many times she tried to give him hope that they'll find a good psychiatrist to help him with his inner troubles? She would run out of her fingers and toes to count.

Maybe it was the time in which they lived that nobody was out there to help him or maybe fate just wanted it that way. It only left her to wonder on this lonesome balcony, her green eyes watching the waves. A call of her name brought her out of this state. She turned to see Keith walking towards her, his red and black bathrobe covering him. He got chubbier with years, bloated if she could use any other, more correct term, he looked older than his age indicated, but he was still the guy she met after the concert and who suddenly started to keep in touch with her.

The smile she loved apparent on his face when she looked at him. A smile appeared on her face as well, it was impossible to not smile back at him. "Finished with the book?" she asked, starting the conversation. Keith joined her on the balcony, hooking their arms together.

"Not entirely" he said, adding right after. "Felt a bit lonely there."

Caroline placed her hand on his, their hands laying connected on the railing. "You could tell me, I would join you in reading."

Sometimes they read different books and showed each other fragments, commenting on them. Keith was fond of peeking his head above her arm to see what was written on her page, forgetting about what he was reading. His hand was slapping her one when she wanted to turn the page and he didn't finish reading.

"You have your own book." Caroline always said.

"Yours is more interesting." Was Keith's answer.

And sometimes they read the same one, Keith eager to read the dialogues aloud, Caroline taking care of the narration. Keith took care to make the book one hundred times funnier than normally, causing even the most sad part be somehow unnecessary dramatic.

"I wanted to join you here" Keith answered, placing his other hand on her arm, stroking it. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened the day before yesterday." Keith looked hurt at the memory of how he screamed at her, he was truly apologising, like he always did. "I won't do that ever again."

It wasn't the first time he said it. "I know." Caroline shifted closer to him. "I forgive you." She didn't say it for the first time as well. They both knew that it will repeat in a few days at a slight inconvenience, but both couldn't live without the other. Caroline was too forgiving and Keith was out of control, yet the love that connected them made it possible to live together.

"Thank you." It was almost inaudible what Keith said, but the silence at their house made it possible for Caroline to hear it. "I'm so fucking bored" he complained, looking down at the sand.

"We can search for something to do" Caroline suggested and upon seeing Keith's curious expression she suddenly smiled. Freeing her hand, she winked at him, asking him to wait here a bit. She went inside to search for what she brought at the shop the last time. It was impossible for her to not go to the bookstore. It was mainly the reason why she got late, but she had to lie to Keith to not spoil the surprise.

Keith waited for her, seeing her coming back, hands behind her back. "What do you have there?" He got immediately interested, leaving his spot and walking to her, wanting to grab the thing. Caroline took a few steps back, until she hit the wall, denying Keith any access to the thing she held in her hands now pressed to her back. Keith pouted at that.

"Something you'll love" she started mysteriously, seeing that childish glint in his brown eyes. "Wanna guess?"

"This will take me only one try!" Keith claimed surely. "But maybe one tiny hint, please?"

"Hmmm…" Caroline looked up, thinking about a hint. She felt Keith's hands sneaking behind her back, she squirmed, covering the thing, saying: "No cheating Keith!"

"Then hurry up!" He had no patience, which only made Caroline more amused.

"It's something that has a treasure hidden inside" she finally said, making the hint as general as she could to not give him an easy one.

"Something like a box that has a hidden thing inside?" Keith asked, not caring if it was against the rules.

"No." Caroline shook her head. "But it has a treasure nevertheless." She giggled, adding another hint. "A treasure you need a map for."

Keith's eyes shined when he heard that. "A map that was left by someone? A pirate, perhaps?"

The childish grin that appeared on his face when she nodded could make her forgive him for everything. Sober Keith was the one who was hidden beneath that mask he was putting on when he was in public. It was her childish, insecure boy who loved a certain story. "Is it a book that you got?"

"Yes!" Caroline exclaimed, taking out from behind her back a new release of Treasure Island. "Look what I've found at the bookstore!"

Keith grabbed the children's book, not believing his eyes. He had to flip through it and read the fragments to really believe what he was holding in his hand. Caroline knew it was his favourite. Keith knew it by heart, but it never hurt anyone to have a copy at home.

"I thought that maybe… We could read it together?" Her suggestion was finally out, Keith hearing her still too mesmerised by the book to answer. She neared closer, looking with him at the text and drawings. She wrapped her arms around his waist. "What do you say?"

There was a moment of silence before she heard Keith's voice change, knowing that they will be busy with the book and acting for the rest of the day. "You can count on Long John Silver, my lady!"

[lnfours]

Frat!tom makes sure you get home safe after a girls night out, and thinks you look adorably dorky when you're drunk

you're right, anon. say it louder!! frat!tom truly is superior. idc what anyone else says. i also got carried away again and i did something a little different idk how to describe this other than straight up fluff.

LOOK AT HIM!!!!! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING?!?!??!?!?!? IM GOING TO COMBUST.

talk frat!tom to me ;)

it was a saturday night, your friends had convinced you to take a girls night out to the sorority beings they knew girls who could get your group in, and now you were 12 shots of fireball deep and you could tell you were going to feel it tomorrow.

when you told tom your plans for the night, he wasn't mad at all. he knew the girls at kappa and knew you were in good hands, but he still vouched to come get you when it was time to call it a night. and he did, you called and said that you missed him and you wanted to cuddle, his queue that you were done for.

he walked into the party, smiling at the girls as they welcomed him inside. he was friends with a few of the girls beings they were girlfriends of his fellow frat brothers. it didn't take long for him to find you with your group, a red solo cup in your hand as you smiled and danced with them.

you made eye contact with him as he got closer, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tight,"tommy!"

god, he loved that nickname.

"hey, angel." he chuckled, hugging you back as you rocked the both of you back and forth. the smell of your shampoo and your perfume hit him in the face and it was comforting to him. it made him feel at home.

after saying hello to the group, he made small talk with your friends who weren't as wasted as you were. after a while, he leaned down to your ear.

"wanna go grab some pizza?" he asked, knowing food would convince you to walk out the door.

you scrunched your nose up,"had it last night."

"what about chinese? ice cream?" he asked, saying the first things to come to his mind.

your eyes lit up, looking up at him,"ice cream."

he chuckled,"then come on, gotta get there before it's all gone!"

you held up your pointer finger to him, letting him know to give you one more minute. he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"fine, this is how we'll do it."

he pushed in front of you, bidding an 'excuse me' to your friends as he leaned down and picked you up, putting you over his shoulder. you let out a squeal, dropping your cup on the wooden floor.

"tom! put me down!" you giggled.

he turned around to your friends, sending a small smile to them,"have a good night, ladies."

"goodnight." they both managed to laugh out as tom made his way through the party. everyone smiled and chuckled, knowing that you were the only girl tom showed this much care to. they were happy to finally see him in love with someone.

"thomas! put me down!" you yelled, not very sternly, as tom approached the car and placed you back down on your feet. you sat up straight and fixed your hair, smiling because you couldn't ever be mad at him.

"ice cream?" he asked, opening the passenger side door for you to get inside.

you closed the car door, walking over to him and smiling before wrapping your arms around his neck, his finding home on your waist. he looked down at you as you smirked up at him, nose bumping his.

"no ice cream, just you." you smiled. you didn't give him a chance to reply before you kissed him softly. he kissed you back, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek before slowly pulling away.

"i can do that," he moved away from you to open the door again, moving an arm towards the car to signal for you to get in,"your chariot awaits, princess."

"why thank you, my prince." you laughed, kissing him one last time before getting in the car as he closed the door behind you.