#since the people participating have largely made stuff for me as gifts before and i have a glut of lovely work from them

[burinazar]

It's a bit funny that to parts of my circles I'm 'the fandom one'/'the fanfic one'/'the shipping one' as the person they know most prominently into such things

because as much as i love writing my fics and shipping my ships my interest in both of those things is, I think, very narrow and specific compared to most people who are into them? due to my habits being like. very particular

[vkelleyart]

Thoughts on fandom: inclusion and engagement.

(Art credit to the kindhearted @penpanoply​!)

There’s been some stuff floating around on Tumblr about strife in the CO/WS fandom, and though I haven’t been explicitly named-dropped on anything public, my DMs have been... active. lol Rather than rehash what’s been said already, I just want to impart a little wisdom and perspective in the hopes it may soothe frayed feelings and offer a way ahead for cultivating a respectful community. As someone who has been an active participant in online fandoms since the mid-’90s, which was the advent of online fandom content creation (shout out to my fellow X-Philes!), and who has also spent a chunk of her professional life managing social media for the federal government and for activist groups, I can promise you it’s all gonna be okay.

Here’s some context for why strife happens and what we can do to create a more inclusive and communicative fandom environment. 

1) It sounds cliché, but fandoms go through growing pains. 

In the case of the Simon Snow fandom, what was once a small and cozy space untouched by cataclysmic events (such as the release of *gasp* a sequel) has grown exponentially in a relatively short amount of time following the release of Wayward Son. Newcomers are eager to find a home in this space at the same time as folks who’ve been here a while may be consciously or unconsciously wary about widening their circle, and It’s important to remember that this is not necessarily an expression of bad behavior on either side but just human psychology doing its thing. 

The byproduct, however, is that tension and stress builds over time from the lack of meaningful communication across the divide, which subsequently fuels misunderstandings. Ironically, the interfaces we use to communicate don’t help with this because any existing communication about the tension happens in tiny vacuums until a trigger goes off and bad feelings go public. 

Way Ahead: These moments of destabilization are opportunities to see where we can be more self aware about how we engage with fandom and the kind of community we want to be. Can you promote, support, or befriend someone trying to gain a foothold? If yes, please do! Each person must reach their own decision about what they can do within the confines of their available energy, health, and time, but a little self awareness goes a long way as long as you’re honest with yourself and others if applicable about what you can contribute. Anyone who judges you for it isn’t worth the strife.

2) In a fandom comprised of vulnerable/marginalized people, it’s more accurate to say that cliques are “bubbles of trust.”

This one's important. Just by nature of the source material, the CO/WS fandom includes fans with a wide array of backgrounds and experiences, especially when it comes to those who identify with the characters’ queerness, mental illness, and/or trauma. I really believe––based on individual conversations/group chats––that the difficult lived experiences that so many of our fandom peers have endured has produced one of the most open, aware, and accepting fandoms I’ve had the pleasure of participating in. Our vulnerability is, in a real way, our strength.

That said, a community of survivors also has the side effect of cultivating small circles of engagement that I call “bubbles of trust.” When you’re a survivor of abuse, marginalization, mental illness, fill-in-the-blank, it’s often quite hard to risk casting a wide net and expanding your circle to include new faces––which can subsequently be internalized by equally sensitive and vulnerable newcomers as rejection, judgement, or inadequacy.

Way Ahead: First of all, there may indeed be gatekeeping and exclusion going on. But before internalizing someone’s cagey behavior as gatekeeping or purposely exclusionary, ask yourself if you have all the information. Many people are private (I include myself in this assessment) because life has regrettably taught them to be this way, and so they may insulate themselves to a small group of people who have earned their trust. Some people might also triggered by certain content (case in point: smut triggers my anxiety) so they don’t engage with it. Others might have something in their pasts that define how they handle certain subjects (for example, a person of color should not be tone policed for getting angry when confronted with a racialized microagression, however accidental it was). You just don’t know what you don’t know. 

The solution here is to regularly check your privilege and ask questions in a private space if you sense you’re being treated unfairly by someone. If you go public with your grievances in hopes of mobilizing the mob, you may accidentally find yourself stepping into the role of the aggressor instead of the victim.

3) Social Media is not built to help you get engagement. It’s built to help itself make money off of you.

Repeat after me: Hits/likes are not a measurable indicator of talent or worth. There are ridiculously talented folks on Tumblr and elsewhere who, for whatever reason, haven’t had their viral moment, and it’s not their fault. Loads of factors come into play where things like likes, reblogs, and comments are concerned, among them being posting frequency, subject matter, the time of day, the day of the week, the week of the month, the month of the year, the current administration, the stock exchange, the concentration of middle class users, who just won the Superbowl, a madman trying to steal an election and undermine the democratic process, a PANDEMIC, do you get where I’m going with this?? lol

At the end of the day, my humble successes have been helped along by good luck, good timing, high profile signal boosters, and an absurd amount of work. (This is why I try to signal boost new work whenever I get a chance over at @vkelleyshares.) 

So while you cannot control Tumblr’s interface, trends at large, or your fellow users, here’s what you can do to ensure you give your work the best possible chance of exposure.

Have an image ready to go with your post. Tumblr is a visual platform (no matter what it says about being good for text). Not good with images? Set up a Canva.com account and get access to free graphic software with a gazillion templates to create whatever attractive image you want to attach to your post.

Keep the outward facing text brief and easy on the eyes. Too long and eyes will glaze over. Put excess text behind a “read more.”

You may think you’re being cute when you do this, but don’t put yourself down in your posts. (Don’t put yourself down in general, of course.) Doing so acts as engagement repellant. If you don’t believe in your work, no one else will.

Related: Be your best cheerleader. Confidence is a magnet, and if you don’t have it, go ahead and fake it until you start to convince yourself you are worth the buzz. So promote yourself! You have gifts that only you can impart. Use that knowledge to fuel everything you do from your art/fiction writing to your outreach with other content creators, and by golly, if someone’s done it already, acknowledge that contribution and then tell the world that this is YOUR unique take on it.

Treat your fellow fandom creators as human beings, not art/fiction/content boosting machines. I cannot count how many times I’ve had folks slide into my DMs with offers of friendship only to disappear once they realize I’m not available to draw a picture for their fic. It hurts because it’s manipulative and it makes me want to hole up and not signal boost anyone. Creators who truly support each other will not give off a transactional vibe. I want to help you reach more people, but not if that’s all I’m good for in your eyes. 

The long and short of it: Lead with compassion, do your best with the opportunities at  your disposal, and remember that fandom belongs to everyone in it. ❤️

What saves a fandom made of sensitive and vulnerable souls from imploding when it goes through growing pains is radical compassion from those who can offer it. Begin with the assumption that your fellow fandomers are not trying to harm you, and wade into the water knowing that your insight into the lives of your peers is limited by default and you may need to temper your words or actions accordingly. If you’re a content creator, save compassion for yourself as well, as there are indeed challenges to gaining an audience, and lack of engagement does not mean you lack talent or skill. Be your best advocate, and if you have the bandwidth to lift up a fellow creator and make a new friend, please, go ahead do it! 

And finally, fandom belongs to everyone, and no one has a monopoly on characters, tropes, or themes. Create and consume what you love (with respect for your more vulnerable peers), and bask in the variety, my friends!

That’s all I’ve got in my head at the moment, although I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting. Thanks so much to @penpanoply for letting me use her art for this and to everyone else, hang in there and try not to judge each other too harshly. These are unprecedented times, and most of us are doing our best in circumstances that are pushing us to our limits. 

As always, if you have questions or want to sound off on anything, shoot me a message or an ask, or ping me on Discord. It might take me a second to respond (thanks, Covid) but I’ll get to it! Love, love, and more love to all.

[bebepac]

The Double Date Mistake?

I am participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt # 92 “I don’t think that was meant to go there.” will appear in bold.

This is also chapter 2 of The Meet:  To catch up on what you’ve been missing of the Meet so far Please click:  The Meet Masterlist

Original Post Date: 05/01/2021 at 3:15PM

The Book:  TRR

The Pairing:  Liam x F!OC (Liam x Jilian) 

Word Count: 1948

Summary: Jilian goes on a double date with Bebe and meets Leo for the very first time.  Jilian and Bebe share how they first met each other to the guys.  

Warnings: Sexual innuendos.  Profanity.  

Leo and Liam belong to pixelberry, Jilian belongs to @queenjilian borrowed for the duration of this series. All others are my own to help us tell the story.  

“And done. He has your number now Jili. Now fly my little birdies fly.”  

She thought he would text right away but he didn’t.  The whole way to Bebe’s apartment the twenty minute drive Jili’s phone was silent.

Bebe looked at Jili as she glanced at her phone.  What the actual hell?

She texted Jilian.

“Bebe why the hell are you texting me? I’m sitting right next to you?”

“I was just making sure your phone was on.”  

“I mean he’s still working Bebe.  He can’t just drop everything and just start texting away.”

“The hell he can’t. What in the actual fuck is wrong with you bruh?” Bebe grumbled as she angrily typed on her phone.

“Wing Woman are you trying to crash this plane?”

“The mother  hasn’t even taken off yet with you two trying to pilot it. I’m gonna need you to get your life together Jili.”  

The driver pulled to a stop. “Damn I really wanted to see how this turned out.”

Bebe got out of the car in a huff.

“I’ll let you know.”   Jili called out the window to her.

Jilian wasn’t going to let it stress her out.  He was still at work. She knew her job got busy at times, and she couldn’t just sit on her phone and do nothing.  As she was walking up the stairs to scan her door key fob, the phone rang.

It was a local number she didn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Jilian. It’s Liam.”

“Hi Liam.”

“I apologize for not texting or calling sooner.  Things got busy at work.”

“Oh I figured that was what happened.”  

"Bebe is something else. I feel a little attacked. I can tell it's from a place of love though."

"She's my best friend Liam. My true sister from another mister."

"So it's safe to assume you are single?" Liam inquired.

"I am, and for you the same?"

"Yes Jilian I am. Is it forward of me to say maybe we can change that for each other. I would really like to see you again. I'm off next Friday would you be free then?"

Jilian sighed.

"Friday is my date night."

"Oh. I just assumed you being single you weren’t seeing anybody even casually."

"With Bebe. We restaurant hop. We're self proclaimed foodies. 

Do you have any friends maybe we could double?”

“My brother, both him and Bebe have big personalities, I think they’d really get along.  Think she would be okay with that?”

“Yeah I think I could convince her.”  

They continued to talk, and about everything under the sun.  Liam was funny and witty and kept her attention.

She began to realize how much she had in common with the charming Liam Rys.  

She had cuddled into her bed under her covers laughing and chatting with him.  She finally rolled over realizing it was almost dawn.

“Oh my God! Is that the sun?!?!?!” she shrieked, surprised into the phone.

“I’m so sorry Jilian I completely lost track of time.”

“I have to go, I have to be at work in forty five minutes!!!”

Jilian said her goodbyes to Liam and hurried to work.  

Right when Jilian was sitting in her office reading over her chart  for her first patient’s checkup, there was a delivery.  

A large coffee drink had been delivered to her with a sweet gooey cinnamon bun.

“Gift for you Jilian Winchester.”  

Liam was really sweet.

She texted him thank you.

He had let her know he had an extra espresso shot added to her coffee.

Liam was a lifesaver.  

*^*^*^*^* The Double Date *^**^*^*^*

When Jili and Bebe got to the restaurant  Liam and Leo were already seated at the table both stood to greet them.  

Liam softly kissed  Jili’s cheek.  

Bebe glanced at Leo.  He was cute, but he was probably about five inches shorter than Bebe, not to mention Bebe was wearing heels making her tower over Leo.

Liam changed the subject breaking the ice between everyone, and the conversation between the couples started flowing.  

Jilian slipped in the subject of Liam and Leo honestly not looking much like each other.  

“We’re half brothers, we have different mothers. But don’t get it twisted Bebe.  I can scale you like Mount Everest. Taller women don’t intimidate me one bit.”

“Um….thank you for that blatant honesty…. Jili will you accompany me to the restroom please?”  

“Excuse us for a moment.”  Jili smiled politely.  

“Absolutely not Jili!!!!!”  Bebe was adamant when the door to the bathroom closed.  

“Bebe I didn’t know!  I swear when he said older brother, I was thinking he looked like him.  You would think older brothers are taller, bigger, and wiser. He is funny though.  You two do have similar personalities. Maybe try to focus on that Bee.  Let’s just try to have a fun time.  You don’t have to see Leo again.  But I know I want to see Liam again. I like him.”  

“You owe me big for this!!!”

Both women come back to the table.  Their drink orders had arrived.  Bebe takes a long sip on her drink.  

“That’s what I’m talking about!”  Leo smiled.  “A girl after my own heart.”  

“How did you and Bebe meet Jilian?”  

“We actually met in NOLA. We were both presenting at a medical conference.  Bebe for the Pharma side, because she’s a pharmacist,  and me for medical for being a nurse practitioner focused in the at risk population.”

Leo eyes flit to Bebe.

“So you’re a drug dealer?”  

Bebe smiled.  “ Legal Drug Dealer. Yep, that’s what I call myself. I’m slinging pills to pay the bills.”  

“I can dig it.”  

“We met the night before our conference began, in a bar.”  

When Jilian walked into the bar she noticed her right away.  There was a woman at the bar,  drinking her drink telling what appeared to be a funny story that had multiple people’s attention.  All were laughing with her.   She had to be a local. Jili thought.  

She had strings of beads around her neck.  

“What can I get ya?”  the bartender asked.  

She looked at Bebe.  “I want whatever she’s having.”  Bebe was the life of the party.  

“Well I did a little pre-gaming at the drive through daiquiri shop though. 

But mostly Hurricanes.  Get her a Hurricane Sal.”  

The bartender winked at Bebe.  

“Don’t skimp on the good stuff either!”  She yelled out.

Jilian’s eyes widened when the bartender  brought her the drink.

Bebe held up her glass to clink with Jilian’s glass.

“Laissez le bon temps rouler!!!!!”   The crowd screamed in agreement at Bebe’s declaration.

“What?”  

“LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!!!!!”  

Jilian took a long drink of the cocktail.  No wonder.  

“Yep! You like it.  I’m Bebe, what’s your name?”

“Jilian.”  

“I’m gonna call you Jili.  What brings you to NOLA?”  

“Work, a conference.”  

“Bleh you said the “W.” word.  That’s not existing in my life right now.  We’re here, we’re alive, no regrets Jili.  Let your hair down and enjoy yourself.  I mean literally.  That bun is a buzz kill.”  

Jili pulled the pins out of her hair shaking out her locks.  

“So much better!!!! You’re a babe!!!  See they’re already looking at you differently.  We’re not interested though.  Unless they’re buying more drinks.”  

Jili glanced at the guys that were now looking in her direction.  

“You’ve got a lot of bead necklaces going on.”   Jili commented.  

“There are two ways to get beads in NOLA.  Buy them or earn them.”

Jili looked at Bebe and raised her eyebrow with a smile.

“Let me guess, your ass hasn’t spent a dime tonight.”  

Bebe took a long sip of her hurricane.  

“Nope.  Not a single dime.  Including alcohol.  I'll tell you what Jili.  Life’s too short.  I’m not going to regret any of my choices.  I spent a year in Costa Rica, living my life Pura Vida.”

“Pure Life.”  Jilian smiled.  Bebe was a carefree spirit, and people gravitated to her.

“We’re only here for a blink Jili.  How do you want your story to be told?”

She decided to throw caution to the wind and party the night away with Bebe.

Jilian’s alarm went off the next morning.  She was incredibly hung over as she tried to pull herself together.  

She had a random memory of her and Bebe walking down  Bourbon Street singing “Lean on Me”  while they were linked arm and arm.  The drunk leading the more drunk back to the hotel.

She smiled, straightening her black business suit.  She was about to pull her hair up into her signature bun but decided to let her tresses fall free instead.  

As she was getting checked into the convention she slipped her ID badge and program of speakers, herself among the list.  

She heard her laugh.  Jili whipped her head around and saw Bebe at the back of the line with two others.  Bebe was wearing a bright pink business suit, and her shoes and clutch had the print of medications on it.  

“The legal drug dealers have arrived!!!! Big Pharma in da house!!!!!!”  

Jili laughed, shaking her head.  

“That’s how we met Liam.”  

“We found out later we lived near each other, and made plans to meet up.  Been friends ever since.  That was like six years ago.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask us how we met.”  Leo asked.

“I assume you are brothers…. You met… at birth?”

Bebe shook her head at Leo.

Everyone was calm after not to mention the alcohol free flowing.  They headed to  a lounge after dinner, called Blue Notes.  The music there was full of soul and blues.  

The drinks continued. The music there stirred the soul.  

“May I have this dance?”  Jili nodded, taking Liam’s hand.   He held her close.  

Leo eyed Bebe.   “You know, I have always been one to have a huge case of FOMO.  So you and me let’s hit the dance floor too.”  

Bebe downed her drink in one swallow.  “Why the hell not.”  

They walked out to the dance floor.  With Bebe’s high heels Leo was chest level to her.  He pulled her close resting his head on her bosom.

“Um….so we’re doing this… okay…”  Bebe looked surprised but she was smiling.

Liam laughed softly when he glanced in their direction.

“I don’t think that was meant to go there.”  

“The height difference honestly never crossed my mind Jilian.  Things seemed really awkward for them for a bit, for more so Bebe.  Not so awkward now.”  

Bebe and Leo were looking at each other laughing.

“You know this is never going to happen Leo Rys.”  

“A man can dream.  Well….It could happen for the night.  I can tell you’re curious. Let me tickle your fancy tonight.”

Bebe laughed harder at him.  “You don’t give up do you Leo?”

“Nope because I get what I want.”    

“If nothing else Jilian, I think they will at least be friends from this, if nothing romantic happens.”

The next morning Liam was cooking  breakfast when Bebe walked out of Leo’s room. Leo’s sweatpants looked like capris on Bebe.  

“Good Morning Bebe. Would you like some breakfast?”  

“Sure.”

Leo walked out of the room a few minutes later.  

Liam smiled looking at the two of them.  

“Breakfast Leo?”  

“I already ate.”  Leo winked at Bebe.

Bebe choked on her orange juice.  

“Oh you were talking about bacon and eggs, sure.”  

Nope not at all awkward at all.  Liam thought as he fixed plates for himself Leo and Bebe.

Bebe was climbing in her ride share when her phone rang.

“Bebe… Liam just told me you had breakfast with him and Leo… at his apartment.  You spent the night with Leo?”  

“Leo was right, Jili.  Not all of him is fun sized.”

Tags in the comments !!!! 

[olivarryprompts]

Fanfic Friday #11

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I post a new here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/33567529

{fancy suits from dad}

Ships: Peter Stark & Tony Stark, Pepper Pots/Tony Stark

Warnings: swearing, just fluff otherwise :)

Wc: 2,319

Here’s the thing, Peter Parker grew up in Stark Tower, which eventually became Avengers Tower of course. So whilst his whole class was buzzing about their field trip, all he could think was, “shit, shit shit.” His dad was going to embarrass the hell out of him. His Aunts and Uncles were going to endlessly tease him.

So, no Peter was not looking forward to the field trip. Not in the slightest. He still wanted to go, though. He knew that the rumors of his internship being fake were started by Flash, the annoying teen. He also knew that Flash had not once said his real name, preferring the name Penis Parker. It didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Also since highschool began, Flash had calmed down with his bullying. Well, maybe Flash hadn’t calmed down and high school was just bigger and he had thicker skin. And a new support system with plenty of people to go to.

Peter had been adopted by the Starks when he was a mere ten years old. At first, he was terrible at receiving any gifts or even too much attention. Slowly but surely, he got more and more used to it. Now, he wouldn’t not know what to do if any of that was taken away. Plus, he really did find a liking for expensive suits, however shallow. He looked good in them, and his father always insisted on buying him more and more. Tony would always find an excuse to spoil the kid a little more, however much Pepper tried to stop him.

“Peter, please see me after class regarding an urgent matter.”

Brough out of his thoughts, Peter swiftly nodded his head.

He looked at the board to see the words from before still written on them, “Field Trip to Stark Industries!” It might as well have said, “Dig Peter Stark’s Grave!”

“So, let’s get started with today’s lesson, graphing imaginary numbers on the complex plane!” He’d done this one a while back with his father. Something about not only learning applicable science and engineering. Peter tapped his glass, and the episode of Arrow he’d been watching on the car ride over began playing. He’d be ever grateful for his father’s gift of EDITH to him. Pepper had tried to ban him from wearing them to school, but hastily gave up when Peter pulled the spiderman danger card.

“Alright, class dismissed. Please remember to do this homework pages 11-18 on this unit’s homework handout.”

Peter, forgetting his teacher's previous request, was very glad to be on his way home. He was one foot out of the door when the teacher called his name. Now, his day had gone pretty well up to that point. Bucky made pancakes for breakfast, which were delicious. There was wayyy less traffic on the way to school. He’d aced an essay and a couple of quizzes, and then he even participated in PE effectively. But alas, all good things had to come to an end.

“Mr. Parker? The discussion.”

“Right,” Peter thought, joining the teacher at his desk.

“Peter, you are truly a great kid. I know you’ve been through a lot recently and in your life, but it is no excuse to make up an internship. We both know that it is not real. Now, acknowledging that you have a bright future, the administration and I have come forward with an offer. If you agree to write an apology, expressing that you understand what you did was wrong and immoral, you will both be allowed to come on the trip and no punishment will be given to you. If you choose to not take this opportunity, you will be banned from the trip and will be chastised.

Peter just stood there, not really comprehending. Apparently Flash’s little rumors were a lot bigger than he anticipated.

“I-i-I’m not lying,” was all he could manage. He had filed all the right paperwork and proved his internship.

“I’m sorry to hear that you will not come forward with the truth. You have up until the day before the trip to hand in the letter if you change your mind. Goodbye Peter.”

Peter just let his legs take him out of the classroom, then out of the school, and then to the road, a couple blocks away, where his dad picks him up from.

“Hello mini-me.”

“Hey,” Peter said, jumping into the passenger seat.

“‘Hi Dad, thanks so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to pick me up each and every day. Sick new car by the way! I’d love to drive it sometime!”

Peter just rolled his eyes with a smile, “Car looks great dad. McLarren’s are superior yet.”

“Ungrateful, so so ungrateful. What’s got you in a mood then?”

“Nothin,” Peter said, pulling out his phone.

“Oh come on, tell me. Tell me or I’ll call Ted.”

“Ned, Dad. We’ve been friends for like three years.”

“Not the point.”

“Just something at school.”

“Wow how very descriptive. You know I’m trying to do the whole feelings thing here, and you should appreciate that coming from my emotionally stunted self.”

“You’re so dramatic. Basically we’re having a field trip to your tower, and I’m not allowed to go because the teacher doesn’t think I really have an “internship.” Which, to be fair I don’t but that’s on you and not me.”

“Nah na na. I offered you an internship, and you said I’d be bored.”

“It would be. Doing a project for your company under strict supervision of some person would be sucky. I mean I can do anything I want from the lab you built me.”

“I know, but remember technically you are my intern. Remember we did that whole personal intern bullshit for the school.”

“Oh right. Is that why you keep harassing me about submitting all my completed projects.”

“No, that’s all your mother. Something about not wanting a lawsuit over a fake internship.”

“Make sense. She tends to be a lot smarter than you.”

“Ah, I feel so attacked. The abuse I suffer.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I am internally crying, kid. Sobbing.”

“Shut up,” we laughed.

“Who’s home?”

“You saw Buck and Sam this morning. Nat and Steve came back from their mission this afternoon. Thor and Loki are back for dinner tonight.. Strange might be coming round, not sure though. Cliff and the family aren’t back for at least a couple weeks. Oh and Bruce is wholed up in his lab as usual.”

“Shit. Everyone staying till the end of the week.”

“Yeah, oh the field trip. You’re screwed. You should have not told me.”

“Ughhhhh!!!”

“I love your life Petey.”

Peter walked into the kitchen and saw Steve reading a newspaper.

“Uncle Steve! Your back!” he smiled, dropping his bag off near the sofa. Steve got up to give the smaller boy a hug.

“Yep. Mission completed.”

“Nice. Can you tell me about it?”

“Yeah, it was nothing too interesting. We just needed some more intel into a terrorist organization stationed in the US. Most of the mission was recon. The next steps are being taken in a couple weeks.”

“Good to know there’s an active terrorist organization out there,” Peter said lightly.

Steve just smiled, not quite understanding the modern humor.

“Where is everyone else?” he said, realizing the living room was not in it’s normal chaotic state that he’d come to love. The chaos was his favorite reminder that he had so many people. He liked having lots of people, even after all this time.

“Nat and Buck are training, they invited you to join if you want. Bruce is in his lab, and dont worry he slept and ate last night. Not sure about the rest.”

“Right, thanks. I think I’m going to go train.”

Before he knew it, it was Friday morning, and his school was coming to his home. He was going to try very hard to ignore them. To do so, he asked his mum to let him sit in on some meetings. He had an easy in to the R&D and mechanical side of the company via the other interns. He was actually planning on hanging out with some of the “other” interns later that day. They were always happy to let Pete in on their projects and let him give them a hand. But he was always interested in getting more detail about the business side of the company, and he liked to get a window into it. Pepper was always happy to show her son the ropes. I mean he was heir to the company after all, even if he didn’t know yet.

He asked his mum to only schedule meetings after 12 as he requested a sleep in. Pepper was always happy when Peter slept as he was a little too much like his father. So, he woke bright and early at 11:00 o’clock.

After a scroll through his phone and a quick shower, he was ready to pull on his far too expensive Brunellio’s custom suit. It was one of his favorites. His father had got it custom made when he was in Italy, and told him he simply could not resist getting one for the kid. Pepper just smiled.

He had a large breakfast (enhanced metabolism) and headed towards the 34th floor where his first meeting was located. He’d been shadowing his mum for almost a year now whenever it was convenient, so he had the rointine down. He was almost sure he could take over a few of her meetings.

“Hi honey,” Pepper said, giving the boy a quick kiss on the cheek on the way to her own chair beside him. Peter blushed before resuming his professional posture and facial expression.

“Good morning everyone, as you can see Peter will be joining us today. I want to talk about some of the services we provide for our employees and their feedback. I’m aware we have a large portion to talk about so Kendra please take it away on that front.”

The first meeting went smoothly as planned. It was a discussion on the progress of the internal services, aka the IT department. Peter hadn’t learned much about their IT department, so it was good to listen in to. Pre these meetings, he, of course, does research into the background stuff, so he’s not completely lost. Pepper’s assistant usually provides him with a packet of info about the Stark Industries side of things. He is also given a list of key words and concepts he might want to make sure he understands. The research is fun for him, it makes him feel all professional.

Usually he spoke during the meetings, asking a couple questions and suggesting some ideas, but for this one he just learned and took in. The next meeting, however, was very much so his field. He’d spoken a lot with advertising, becoming very interested in the data analysis behind it. He even took a stats class so he could keep up. In that one he asked questions Pepper was on the verge of asking twice. He also contributed to the analysis of data once. Pepper usually liked him to participate as it was good for him, but he always felt bad suggesting stuff to the senior adults. He usually spoke to his mum or dad about projects for the company, preferring that.

They hung back in the room of the second meeting.

“Good job in this one Pete. Took two questions right off my tongue.”

“Thanks ma,” he said, always appreciating some approval.

“That’s all I’ve got for you today, kid. Rest of the stuff is, ya know.”

“Course. Thanks for these two. It was good to learn about internal affairs a bit more. Have a gap of knowledge there.”

“Yeah. Was that the first time meeting our CIT?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, next time we have a broader IA meeting, I’ll pull you outta school,” Pepper suggested.

“Really? That’d be epic.”

“Course, hun. Jarvis, sort that out please.”

“Of course Mrs. Potts.”

“Thanks J,” Peter yelled.

“Anytime mini-boss. No need to disturb the entire floor.”

“Are AI supposed to be so snarky?”

“Dad programmed it, what else would it be?”

“Valid point.”

“Right, got to run. See you later.”

“Bye, love you mum!”

“Love you too, Pete.”

“Jarvis, could you send me the tour plan for the visiting tour today?”

“Absolutely, sir. They’re on your phone now.”

“Thanks J.”

Looking at the plans Peter smiled. He had successfully avoided them the entire day. It said they were supposed to head back to school at 2:30, and it was about to be three. Smile on his face, he trotted down to the lobby to grab a coffee before going to meet Loki at the arcade. Don’t judge them, it was their thing. Taking the private lift down, and then walking straight to the coffee stand and ordering.

“Mr. Parker!” he heard the angry voice of his teacher, “How dare you show up here aft-”

Shit. shit. Shit.

“Edith, call dad, and tell him it’s urgent in the lobby.”

“Of course Peter.”

“Peter, are you listening to me! You are going to face extreme consequences for this.”

“Your coffee,” the man said, not realizing it was Peter, level ten personal of the tower, that was being yelled at.

“Thanks.”

“How dare you get coffee! In this building! Security!”

Tony arrived spotting his son instantly.

“Kid this best be impor- I see.”

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said weakly.

“Mr. Harrington is it? Please stop harassing my intern.”

“H-he, he is y-your intern?”

“Yes. My favorite. Please exit the building and never question him again. You will be hearing from me.”

Let’s just say, Monday was an interesting day. At least Flash backed off, he was definitely an intern at SI, and no one embarrassed him on the trip.

[prinxlyart]

Oh thos warm moments of redemption hit me right in the feels >///<. (I'mma definitely gonna compile all your headcanons in one doc and you can't stop me!). Anyways, now getting back to lumity (prepare thyselve because I'm HUNGRY): How does the redeemed Odalia's relationship with Luz and Willow develop? And regarding our three girls in particular, how do they act right after their proposals, during the wedding and on their honeymoon?

(Lmao please, lord knows I’ll never put any of these into a doc)

Hmmm, that’s a really good question. Er, several questions. Imma go in order of how they were asked.

[tw: for mentions of severe depression /thoughts of suicide starting with bullet #4. I’ll be sure to add the warnings before and after the section as well. Please continue with caution.]

Blight Parents’ relationship with their daughters-in-law:

I think just due to how they got to where they are by this point, they both have a soft spot for Luz. She’s the one that reached out to them in the first place after all of their kids left the family. They feel a v specific gratitude towards her and Camila both because these humans work so hard to get shit done. It’s an admirable trait. One they’re glad the Nocedas aimed at them. It’s taken so much time and energy to get the Blights be, like. Tolerable people? And then even more to get them to actually act like parents.

I think at first, any time they’re unsure of how to act or react to a situation, they’ll go to Luz for guidance. They’ve gone their whole lives up until just a few years ago acting a certain way and just flipping all that? It can be difficult to break those habits. Any time they feel they should react in anger or irritation or disgust, they stop and think “no, wait. What would Luz/Camila do? Would they get mad...?” And they just give her a look of confusion and guilt before Luz mimes the sort of reaction that would be healthiest. Any time Amity catches them literally looking to Luz on how to act supportive she just rolls her eyes. They’re trying and that’s what matters.

I think at first they just don’t know how to interact with Willow. They apologized for how they treated her in the past at great length, but Willow just sort of nodded along quietly. They weren’t used to that sort of reaction (granted they’ve only just started doing this “apologizing” thing for a few months at this point in time. They’re still getting the hang of it). So they sit uncomfortably for a while until Willow sighs and sort of sits up straighter. She’d resolved to tell them about how their careless and cruel treatment of Amity was the first step in a chain reaction to Willow’s life becoming absolutely miserable for years to follow.

Not only was she forced to lose her best friend at that birthday party, but she had to do so in the cruelest way possible. Amity explained to her years back that she pretended to not like her because she couldn’t do magic to hide the fact that her parents threatened Willow. Because the Blights are supposed to be perfect. Amity has always been smart and she knew what would happen if she let it slip that they had threatened her. If Willow knew the truth, she’d tell her dads and her dads would try to confront them about it. It would end up turning into a scandal (although Amity admitted she wasn’t familiar with the word at the time; it was just one of those words she heard her mom use a lot for situations that were bad). So as a result of Amity doing her part to “protect” the Blight name, she shunned Willow from her life and broke both their hearts in the process.

[TW: discussion of severe depression and thoughts/intentions of suicide. If you’re in a vulnerable headspace right now, please scroll until you see the next notice signaling the end of the section. And please, if you’re struggling with depression and/or thoughts of suicide, please please please seek professional help.]

Willow recounts the years of endless bullying, not always by Amity’s new friends, but often by them. She tells them how Amity wouldn’t necessarily participate so much as observe with a carefully schooled expression. And then there were times when Amity did bully her, and that hurt so much more than everyone else combined. All so she wouldn’t be publicly shamed or get in trouble with her parents for associating with someone like Willow.

She tells them that it literally took Luz coming into their lives for any of that to change. Amity had turned 7 on the birthday she cut Willow out of her life, and they were 14 when Luz showed up. Half of Willow’s entire life up to that point had been friendless (or nearly friendless) and so severely bullied that she was actually debating growing a Graveleaf plant to brew tea with. She still has to take a daily healing potion prescribed by her doctor to keep her mind from falling back to that same state it used to be in. Yes, her life has greatly improved ever since Luz showed up and helped repair her friendship with Amity. Yes, it’s only gotten better since then. Yes, she loves her fiancées with everything she has. But that doesn’t mean all that pain has suddenly been erased and it doesn’t always stop her brain from sinking back into its depressed state.

Needless to say, the Blights are absolutely floored with all of this information. They’re both frozen in shock, they don’t know what to do or say to such an admission. Willow just continues though. She tells them that she’s so grateful to have Amity back in her life. That with therapy, her daily medicine, and time, she’s come a long way from where she once was. Her bad days aren’t nearly as bad as they were when she was a kid. She has both of her fiancées to support her and love her when she’s feeling down. She tells them that no, she can’t forgive them for what they’ve done. But she accepts their apology and appreciates them making the effort to make things right. Seeing Amity happy because her parents are actually trying to be better makes Willow happy.

I think......Alador would be the one to go to Willow and kneel before her and take her hand, apologizing with as much intent as he can muster. He’s a little more in touch with his emotions these days than Odalia is, and he’s lost a family member to suicide before. He knows how devastating it can be to everyone around them and he’s mortified at the fact that Willow had almost done the same. He understands how much she means to Amity and he comes to the realization mid-apology that he could have very well lost his own daughter in a similar fashion had Willow gone through with that. Odalia goes white as a sheet at hearing that, steadying herself in her chair and it makes Willow feel queasy, but she’s glad that he understands the severity of what they’d done. She does put a hand to Alador’s shoulder to comfort him as he reels from this realization and he stands properly again to wrap Willow in a hug as he cried, still muttering apologies through his tears. I think it takes a while for Odalia to be able to speak again, but Willow is able to see that that struggle means it’s rocked her to her core. Once Odalia is able to also stammer out her own apologies, Willow just gives her a small smile and nods.

[END OF SECTION. Now it’s all fluff from here on out. Have fun, kids.]

After that discussion, Alador and Odalia double down on the whole “being better” thing. During one of their weekly tea meetings, they ask Camila how they might start doing that in their daily lives too, not just for their children. Camila doesn’t know the first thing about their jobs or what they do or the people they work with, so she tells them to make a list of things they can think of that might’ve been considered hurtful to some degree. The tea definitely goes cold long before the list is done; Camila actually needs to leave before they finish it. The next meeting, there’s a comically large scroll of shit they’ve done sitting on the table and they are sitting with their heads cowed in shame. I think Camila pops an ibuprofen before her headache settles in.

They still don’t know how to do nice things without throwing money at it first. That takes a while for them to wrap their heads around. Luz and Willow aren’t ones for like. Big, extravagant, expensive things. They prefer the heartfelt stuff, like hand-made gifts or thoughtful acts of service. (Amity, however, insists they accept her parents ridiculously expensive weekend getaway trip to the Iliac Crest Hot Springs; the top of the left hip bone of the Titan. A well-known vacation spot for romantic getaways. Willow only accepts because she knows they’d never be able to afford that on their own and Luz accepts it as a wedding gift and an opportunity to go to a part of the Boiling Isles she’s never explored before.)

Alador is like every dad ever; he loves talking about random trivia shit to anyone who will listen. Luz is literally the only person that will listen because even though she’s lived in the Demon Realm for years now, she still doesn’t know all the “fun facts” that everyone else has grown up with. Sometimes she’ll bring up points about random trivia bits Alador is going on about and put in her own two snails about something she’s experienced regarding it, and she and Alador will go back and forth for a while like that, talking about the stuff they’ve experienced relating to that thing. Willow thinks it’s adorable and Amity is mostly just exasperated (but she also thinks it’s cute and she loves watching her dad bond with her fiancée like this).

Odalia will occasionally ask Amity about her abominations and they’ll sort of awkwardly talk for a while about the technicalities and ingredients and Odalia will mention adding an ingredient Amity’s never even considered before. When she inquires further, Odalia tells her that she’ll sometimes work with a friend in the Emperor’s coven that specialized in the plant track to experiment with creating abominations with different kinds of ingredients for different tasks. Amity is shocked and impressed to hear about her own mother mixing magic and teases her for breaking the rules right under the emperor’s nose. Odalia stammers at that (she’s still getting used to Belos no longer being in power and the stigma against mixing magic still runs strong in her mind), but eventually admits that yes, technically she’s mixed magic. Amity makes her promise to show her how with Willow and they make a whole day of it.

Spending the day making weird abominations with Odalia Blight was Not something Willow thought she’d ever say she’d done, but hey. She didn’t think King could beat Luz in that one eating contest either because where does he put all that food, but he ended up winning anyway. Willow and Amity are actually super excited to try mixing their knowledge of magic together; it almost feels intimate in a way. It’s something neither have tried before and are able to try for the first time together because it’s their specialties. Odalia guides them through the process of mixing different types of plants into the abomination mixture to make abominations specific for extra strength or abominations that help enhance healing magic just due to its properties. They all end up having a lot of fun that day, just making all sorts of varieties of abominations. By the time the day is done, they’re all covered in abomination goop because one of them accidentally exploded. Luz managed to get a picture of them all laughing together and covered in goop before they go to clean up. It’s one of her favorite pictures.

As time goes on, things get less and less tense between the Blight parents and Luz and Willow (especially with Willow). They grow more comfortable with being good parents, good people, and just kinder and more loving in general. There’s one day when the Blights come to visit and they greet each girl with a hug and kiss without really realizing it. They all go to settle down in the living room, but Amity’s still frozen at the doorway, covering her mouth and trying desperately to wipe away the tears that crept up at the display of affection. No one else had thought anything of it, but that was the first time her parents had shown the same and love and affection to both of her wives without any hesitation or fear of crossing boundaries. She cherishes the memory of that moment often.

Proposal Reactions:

I genuinely don’t know how these girls would propose to each other. There’s any number of possibilities; they’re all so creative. The part of me that wants to make funny cartoons would have them each scrambling to figure out the best way to propose to each other and getting into ridiculous hijinks when they try to get their friends’ help (Amity would ask Emira and Edric [and the detention gang by extension; Viney’s remained best friends with Jerbo and Barcus after all this time]. Willow I think would recruit Gus and oddly enough, Lilith [she sees Eda as too much of a mother to Luz to feel comfortable with asking her to help her propose to her daughter]. Luz would definitely ask Eda, King and Camila to help but regret it almost instantly). Of course everyone would end up tripping over one another and each proposal attempt would end in disaster but all three girls would see the resulting destruction (maybe several things on fire?) and just laugh their asses off. Because wow, this could’ve gone so much better, but hey, you guys wanna get married?

The sappy romantic in me tho. Would want them to discuss it thoroughly before hand; agree that yes they’d love to get married, they’re just not sure if it’s the right time. But Luz, being the person she is, would go and recruit everyone’s help in coming up with the best proposal ever. Willow and Amity are both busy with their respective jobs just enough to not notice all the scheming going on. And then one day when all 3 of them have the same day off, Luz takes them out for a fun day (whatever that entails; maybe a day at a carnival or just wandering around town or something). At the end of the day, she takes them somewhere significant (this could literally be anywhere, Grom Tree is a good place because of the view it has over the cliff’s edge, but yknow. Whatever suits their relationship as a trio) and everything is decked out in lights and decorations. And Amity and Willow are both stunned and enthralled by the display and they turn to see Luz down on one knee and holding two small boxes, holding one out to each of them and a super nervous smile on her face. Amity and Willow maybe accidentally tackle her to the ground when they tried to hug her.

During the wedding:

I think they’re all stressed during the wedding itself. They’re excited, of course, a whole ceremony dedicated to the three of them vowing to spend the rest of their lives together. They aren’t capable of imaging a life without each other at this point. But that doesn’t stop the nerves from settling in.

Eda’s constantly telling Luz to calm down before the ceremony actually begins; Luz is found pacing and coming up with doomsday scenarios out loud at light speed like she always does when she’s nervous. Camila and Eda are also nervous, but they’re doing their best to keep it together for Luz’s sanity. Camila’s making sure (with Emira, as Em is the Maid of Honor) that everything is going smoothly and according to plan. But she has similar nervous habits to Luz when she doesn’t have something to focus her attention on. She ends up fussing over Luz’s hair and getting rid of any imaginary wrinkles in her outfit, making sure her makeup is perfect until Eda tells her to quit treating Luz like a dress up doll. Eda’s really good at pep talks, even when she’s nervous, but she manages to calm both Nocedas down with her patented Soft Encouraging Voice.

Amity’s freaking out in her own way in a separate room with all of her girls (Emira, Skara, a fully and properly redeemed Boscha). She’s freaking out similarly to Luz in that she’s mumbling to herself all sorts of ridiculous what-ifs and wishing desperately that she could just be with Luz and Willow already because they bring her the most comfort. She’s not pacing like Luz though, she’s sitting while Emira and Skara do some intricate thing with her hair while Boscha’s doing her makeup but that doesn’t stop her from wringing her hands and bouncing her leg (something that Boscha has to tell her to stop doing every 30 seconds or she’ll mess up the makeup she’s doing). Emira’s giving her advice for every little “what-if” she can hear coming out of Amity, with some silly remarks from Boscha and Skara that actually puts Amity somewhat at ease. Having her girls acting calm and natural did help. She thanks them for doing as much at the reception.

Willow’s trying to get herself into game mode with a pep talk. No place for nerves, only well-thought action. She’s actually got Viney there with her (who had to kick Gus out because he was crying at just the sight of Willow in her wedding dress), as well as Bo and Kat (I think those are the names of the two healing track girls....someone tell me if I’m wrong, but I think Bo is the one in the Human Appreciation Society and I think Kat is the one with the glasses that played on Boscha’s team in the Grudgby match). Willow’s girls are all hyping her up like she’s about to enter a Grudgby match rather than a wedding ceremony, and the ridiculousness of it all is staving off her nerves. Viney’s also giving her own personal experience as advice; she may or may not have tripped during her own wedding and is making sure Willow knows how to avoid that at all costs.

I genuinely don’t know what the role of the Best Man is, but I know in one of my past headcanon posts I mentioned that both Edric and Gus are asked to fill that role (there’s no such thing as rules when you’ve got a human and two witches getting married on the boiling isles). I think while Emira and Camilia are helping their respective brides-to-be get ready, Edric and Gus are taking over making sure everything is running smoothly and all the guests know where to go. When they’re just sort of standing around and waiting for their next task, Gus starts tearing up again at the thought of Willow in her dress. Willow’s like the big sister he never had and now she’s getting married. Gus is constantly having to perform minor illusions on his face to make it look like he’s not about to cry or has already been crying. Edric hasn’t seen Amity yet, but he’s secretly doing the same thing whenever their minds aren’t preoccupied with whatever Event Tasks they need to focus on.

I think.....rather than a one-by-one thing, all three of our girls enter at the same time from different doors. Luz comes in from the left side door, Amity comes in from the right, and Willow comes in from the main entrance at the back. Luz is practically vibrating with nerves and excitement and the only reason she doesn’t run to the front to sweep her beautiful girls into excited, passionate kisses is solely due to her own mother’s iron grip on her arm as she walks her up. I actually don’t know if Alador has redeemed himself enough at this point for Amity to allow him to walk her up to the front, but I also think Edric would be too much of a mess to do so. I think a lifetime of keeping up a mask helps Alador maintain his composure long enough to get Amity up to the front and to take his seat before he lets the waterworks take over. I actually don’t know which of Willow’s dads would walk her up; we don’t know enough about either of them to make personality judegement calls. Whichever dad can hold it together for longer, probably.

Polyamory isn’t a new thing on the Boiling Isles; it may not be practiced as often among witches, but demons do it all the time, so the person officiating their wedding (it could be literally anyone, I have no idea. Maybe principal bump, just for funsies) knows exactly how this ceremony needs to go. They all planned beforehand exactly the order they’d kiss one another once they were proclaimed officially married: Luz would be too excited to wait and would kiss each of her girls first, Amity then Willow, and then Amity and Willow would share their own kiss once Luz had gotten that out of her system.

Honeymoon:

I don’t know enough about honeymoons to know if there’s a difference between a honeymoon and a normal vacation except Now You’re Married. Maybe they go on a grand expedition around the Boiling Isles? Maybe they honeymoon in the Human Realm? That’s exactly like the proposal situation; it could be literally anything. Far too many variables and ideas that could make it perfect for each of them. Hell, they could probably just say they’re going out and doing all sorts of stuff and actually just locking themselves in their house so they can just be together and relish in the relief of no longer needing to plan such a large and important event. They can just enjoy each other’s company as Wives now. I really don’t know.

Regardless of what they do, I think they’d be like any other person on their honeymoon: absolutely love struck and over the moon with how much they love each other. Sometimes they’ll catch one another staring and tease each other about it ( “awww you liiiikkkke meeee” “we literally just got married” “yeah I know but stiiiiiillllllllll”)

I actually don’t know what else you expect me to put here, so I guess I’ll just say they lived happily ever after, the end.

[colourfullsims]

An Overdue Update

Hey there! Long time no see.

It’s been quite a while since my last update (and several times that I’ve said I would update that fell through lol), but I think it’s finally the perfect time to tell you all what’s been going on behind the scenes. I’ve kept most of you all in the dark with no explanation for my hiatus for months now, but with the end of the year upon us, I want things out in the open before moving into 2021. I will warn you now, that this will be a long post, because there’s a lot of backstory I have to lay out to explain everything. There will also be some brief mentions of emotional manipulation and emotional abuse in the beginning of this post, which I will be content tagging for safety, so please skip over the first question if you would like to avoid this subject.

Now without further ado, I will be answering some frequently asked questions, starting with:

Q: Where did you go?

The short answer to this is that I took a very long, unwanted break from the community, but that answer doesn’t really suffice in explaining why. Typically, I like to keep things lighthearted and chill on this blog, because much of the reason why I play the Sims and do storytelling is for escapism. Things that happened this year took that away from me.

This spring, I broke up with my long term boyfriend of five years. With that separation came a lot of heartache, guilt, and stress for a variety of reasons. We’d been together since my days in undergrad and had shared so many intimate experiences together: graduations, moving out of state into our first “grown up” apartment, birthday trips to our favorite cities. We had inside jokes that I still find myself wanting to make with him, because after so much of our lives intertwined together, he’d essentially become my best friend. But things ended between us for good reason.

Despite the good that came out of that relationship, there was a fair amount of emotional manipulation/abuse that went on, early as the first few months of us being official. Sometimes it was subtle things: when we first started dating, I was in my final year of undergrad and doing all I could to bring up my gpa and buff up my resume, so that I could increase my chances of getting into my grad school of choice. Frequently, he would comment on my academic successes as if they would be the thing that would break us up. I remember presenting a paper on a panel, facing my fear of public speaking head on, and I was so proud of the work I’d put into it all, and then hours later coming back to my student apartment to tell him how it went, and the first words out of his mouth were, “Someday you’re gonna get too smart and leave me behind.” And that wouldn’t be the last time he said some iteration of that phrase to me, and every time it would feel like he was praying I would slow down so he wouldn’t feel I was outgrowing him. Even when I finally did get accepted to my dream school, my first thought after my excitement was that when I told him the news, he wouldn’t be happy for me. My decisions for my future became personal slights to him: I had to move from the midwest out to NYC to attend grad school, and even though I discouraged him from following me if he didn’t want to live in the city (which he 100% did not), he followed me anyway and hung that decision over my head like a giant reminder of some debt that I owed him. I regret not following my gut then and my failure to recognize the red flags, because I would go on to spend 3 more years after our move losing myself as he clutched onto me, in what I can only assume with the hope that if he held on tight enough, that I wouldn’t leave him behind. 

When I look at the more overt signs of my ex’s possessiveness, I realize I should have shared what was going on more with the people close to me: in the early stages on our relationship, he’d already done destructive things like slashing the tires of a guy I had been seeing earlier that same year, and punching a hole into the wall of my student apartment. He’d gone through all my messages on social media, my texts, my emails, all to find out about old crushes that he suspected I might still be in contact with. He even went as far as reading through my private journal, which I previously wrote in daily, but now I struggle to write in more than a few times a year, for fear of my privacy being invaded again. In the wake of realizing our relationship was failing, instead of ending things, I put my energy into hoping that he would do better, and I hid what was happening from my family and friends, to the point that I avoided their messages and phone calls. I isolated myself in increasing measures as time went on until I was too timid to do most things outside of my apartment without my ex-boyfriend by my side. The reason I stayed so long is because of these combined things: the sense of owing him my time after uprooting his life, the fact that I was both physically and mentally separated from my support systems, the feeling of familiarity that had grown from shared experiences and time, and largely, this overwhelming self imposed desire to not appear as though I had failed my relationship.

Largely, 2020 has been an absolute trash fire, but I can thank this year for one thing; putting me into a situation of such unrest that I could no longer ignore that I was not living the life I wanted or deserved.

After our breakup, I moved back to my parents’ place and stayed there while the remainder of my lease in New York ran out. When I originally left, I only brought back a small suitcase and backpack filled with essentials and valuable items that I couldn’t leave behind in my apartment, so I had to return again to retrieve my things, which, as you can imagine, was not fun. Not only was traveling during covid a nightmare, my ex was threatening to throw all my stuff out of our apartment, so I had to scramble to get a flight, a hotel, moving equipment, and a moving service arranged on the fly so I could retrieve everything (and when I got there, he had smashed one of my laptops). In summation, from our break up to finally moving out completely, this all happened over the span of mid-spring to the 1st of August.

Since then, I’ve been keeping myself sparse on the internet, partially because I needed the time to recover from the entire experience, and partially because frankly, I’ve been afraid of my ex monitoring any of my accounts to keep tabs on me. He was fully aware of this blog, and since in recent years it's been the only account I’ve kept up with, I was afraid of him trying to find out where I am and what I’ve been doing through here. I’ve only felt comfortable reblogging others content for the past few months.

So that’s where I’ve been. Which brings us to the next question:

Q: What happened to Love Island?

Over the past few months, I’ve received several asks and messages about whether or not I still planned on doing the Love Island challenge, as well as words of concern about my well being. I want to start by acknowledging all those messages by first apologizing to anyone I didn’t get back to: the majority of you got the sense that I was overwhelmed or burnt out, as most of us have been this year, and I really thank you for still having any interest in seeing me do any type of content after I essentially ghosted you all lol. I really appreciate all the well wishes too.

But I also received this:

Which, 1) I don’t know if this was either impeccable timing or horrible timing on your part, considering I planned on writing this update before this landed in my inbox.

And 2),

I don’t know if you were a reader or one of the participants selected for the challenge, but I’m sorry you’re disappointed about me not following through with the challenge. I was really excited to do it when I made the casting call, was ecstatic about the number of creators who submitted complex and diverse sims, and I had even completed the villa and started working on shooting the premiere. But as you can see from everything above, life happened. I wish this year had been more stable so that I could have done the challenge with no problem. 

But I’m not going to apologize for making the choices I needed to to preserve my mental health and safety.

That being said, it’s been so many months since I originally pitched the challenge; many of the creators who were selected are now inactive or have deactivated. And honestly, I didn’t know whether you all would even want the challenge at the point, I mean…? It’s winter time now, and Love Island was definitely more of a summer themed challenge lol.

As it stands, I don’t know if I will be picking up where I left off with the Love Island challenge. I certainly still have some interest in doing it; I built a whole set and had an entire schedule of challenges and dates planned for the project. But I don’t know if I can move forward with the original cast, or if I would have to do a new casting call to fill the spaces of inactive creators. So...I guess I would need feedback from you all. Would you want Love Island still?

Q: What are you planning to do now?

Right now, I’m doing whatever makes me happy. I’m in a much better place than I was about 6 months ago, and I don’t feel the same anxiety about posting as I did. For now, I might just post some casual gameplay until I know whether or not I’m moving forward with Love Island. I’m just happy to come back to do what I love.

So there you have it. 2020 kicked my ass in some really heart wrenching ways, and I needed some time to not worry about keeping up with content creation and just worry about taking care of me. Now that I’m a little more stable, I want to come back, even if it’s just simple stuff for now. To those of you who have stuck around waiting to see if I’d ever pick my projects back up, thank you so much, and I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting this long lol. For the time being, all I have to offer is a very long overdue Follower’s Gift: I will be hosting a giveaway for my followers this week, where I will be giving away $40 worth of sims content each to 3 followers. I’ll have more details about the giveaway tomorrow when the official post goes live.

If you made it this far thank you for reading this long mess, and I’ll see you all soon!

~Cam

[wren-fell]

Stuck in Borderland

Decided to post my Alice in Borderland fic. The main character is my oc Sayaka, and all other characters belong to Haro Aso.

Warnings: language, violence

Length: ~3000 words

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Beach

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Sayaka walked through the doorway, and the red grid flashed for a second after she passed. She glanced over her shoulder with a frown, no turning back.

           She picked up a phone on the table in the center of the room and the screen lit up white. Registration complete, the game will commence in 5 minutes. With a deep breath she closed her eyes, just another game… that’s all it is.

“Just do it quickly you’ll be fine!”

“Hurry the fuck up we only have 10 more minutes!”

“I’m trying!” The girl wailed as she waited on the other side of the platform, a row of swinging saws and blades blocking her from the other side where two others were.

“Just go!” A guy at the platform behind her screamed.

“Fine!” She drew in a deep breath and took off running across the bridge. She was halfway across with no incident when a saw came rising out of the floor. The girl screamed and jumped over it, but when she landed the floor gave way and she fell into the electrified water below. There was a sickening crackle and a scream, then nothing.

The five remaining participants were all silent until the time chime rang out. There are 7 minutes remaining.

“Alright, I’m going next!” A guy screamed pushing Sayaka to the side and stepped forward on the platform.

He drew in a deep breath and ran across. He was doing fine, but as he came up to where the saw in the ground was he hesitated.

“Don’t jump!” Sayaka yelled.

“What? Are you fucking crazy!?” He snapped over his shoulder.

“Don’t jump! If you do you’ll go into the water! If you keep running straight you’ll be fine!”

He looked from her to the saw and let out a scream, “you better be right about this!” Running forward he closed his eyes waiting for the saw to chop off his legs, but as he was just about to run into it, it receded into the ground.

Sayaka sighed, “thank god that was right…”

“How did you know?” the man with the glasses standing next to her asked. She glanced at him and smiled.

“The two people that died both died from falling into the water not the saws. The saws have sensors that make them retract when someone is about to touch it, but if you jump the floor is unstable and will give way,” she replied.

Two minutes remaining. She looked down at the phone as the voice rang out, “we should get across.”

Sayaka and the man with glasses walked across with no saws even coming close to cutting them, and as the clock began to count down thirty seconds they stepped into the circle on the second platform. At the end of the countdown everyone’s phones lit up.

Congratulations. Game cleared. A four day visa has been issued to all players.

“4 of Diamonds done,” Sayaka sighed closing her eyes and leaning her elbows on her knees.

“That was very impressive.”

Sayaka raised her head to look at the man with the glasses, and rubbed the back of her head, “Well, you really start to pay attention when people die I guess.”

“I’m with a group that’s trying to win this game. I think you’d be a good addition,” he added. Sayaka hesitated she had only met one other person so far in the borderlands she had spent extra time with, but they had died fairly quickly and she’d been alone since. Although, winning and leaving this world was a very tempting offer.

“Come with us we’ll introduce you to our leader,” he said waving a hand and she was surrounded by the other two men from the game. She hesitated, but started walking when she noticed the guns poking out of their pockets. Where did they even get guns?

Sayaka was led to an old beat up corvette outside where they tucked her in the backseat between the two men with guns. This was starting to feel less like an introduction and more like a kidnapping. They squealed the tires as they tore of the parking lot and down the road towards the river.

Eventually they pulled up in front of a large beach club that she recognized. Her parents used to take her and her sister here when they were kids, except now it looks slightly more rundown and Beach in red spray paint was scrawled across the original sign. But, the most interesting thing about the old club was that it seemed to be the only building in Tokyo that still had electricity aside from the game arenas.

“Welcome to the Beach, follow me,” the man with glasses ordered as he got out of the car.

Sayaka followed him inside where there were hundreds of people wearing swimsuits and running around without a care in the world.

“What the fuck did I get myself into?” She whispered.

The man with glasses led her upstairs to a room in the main building of the club where 8 other people in swimsuits sat at a table and you couldn’t hear the pounding music.

“Kuzuryu. Welcome back, have you found us a new member?” A man with sunglasses and long hair declared waving his arms.

“Yes, she did exceptionally well in the 4 of Diamonds game. I think she could make a good addition,” Kuzuryu said handing the Diamonds card to him.

“Wonderful! My name is Hatter and welcome to the beach! What’s your name beautiful?” The way he said beautiful and peered over the top of his sunglasses made her stiffen.

“Sayaka Umino.”

“Sayaka, the beach is a haven! I made this place so we could all have hope that one day we’ll get out of here and all go home! But, we all must work together to make that dream a reality,” he paused and stood up from his chair to wave his hands dramatically at the window, “hope! Hope is what this place is for, so we can all survive these terrible games! The beach is a place where you can do anything your heart desires as long as you follow the rules.”

There was another pause and Sayaka foolishly opened her mouth, “what are the rules?”

“I’m so glad you asked!” Hatter turned quickly his robe flaring dramatically behind him, “Rule #1: Always wear a bathing suit!”

“Why?” The question came out of her mouth before she could stop it and she stiffened as she waited for the response.

“You can’t hide a weapon in bathing suits! Only militants are allowed to carry weapons, so you must wear a bathing suit.” Sayaka pouted, no thank you.

“Rule #2 you are free to live your life however you want here. Drugs, sex, alcohol, it doesn’t matter! You can do whatever you want!” Hatter turned dramatically waving at the window again at all the people partying outside. Sayaka furrowed her eyebrows, this place sounded more like a nightmare than paradise.

“And rule #3?”

There was a long pause and a heavy silence hung in the room. Hatter leaned closer to the window resting his hands on the sill, “Rule #3 is…” he turned around to look at her, “death to all traitors.”

Sayaka drew in a sharp breath through her nose as she stared at him. One of the guys by the wall shifted his Ak-15 and a sadistic smile spread on his face. Guess me saying no makes me a traitor.

“So? Sayaka what do you say?” Hatter asked taking a step towards her and holding his arms out.

“Sure, I’ll join…” she replied quietly.

“SPLENDID!” Hatter’s exclamation made her jump as he turned around back to the table of people, “Ann please take Sayaka to get a bathing suit and get her wristband.”

“Yes Hatter,” a woman with short black hair and sunglasses stood up from the table and headed to the door, “follow me.”

“Welcome to the beach Sayaka, and enjoy!” Hatter called as she walked towards the door.

“Thanks…” she mumbled and followed Ann out.

 Ann led Sayaka downstairs to the gift shop, and bent down to lift the metal gate up before turning sharply to Sayaka, “pick one.”

Sayaka walked through the shop with a frown. Most of the swimsuits for women were skimpy bikinis, and judging by Hatter’s speech about what you could do at the beach she could see why. She settled on a teal one-shoulder bikini, with a black stripe on the top and bottom, and a pair of black board shorts. At the entrance to the shop Ann handed her a red wristband.

“This is your room. Please go up and change. Welcome to the beach,” Ann said quietly before walking away.

Sayaka sighed, “guess this is where I’m staying now,” she muttered as she headed to her room.

 Sayaka went up to her room on the third floor and changed before heading back downstairs to investigate her new home.

Hatter wasn’t joking you could really do whatever you wanted at the beach, it was like one big frat party. Everyone was either dancing, drinking, smoking, or sloppily making out in plain sight, among other things… Cringing as she walked past a particular corner of the hotel with multiple couples, if this is what hope looks like I’m not sure I want any part of it... But, that thought didn’t last long when she stumbled upon the dining room. Where the hotel would have usually held dinner or breakfast service was transformed into an elaborate buffet piled high with food, most likely for the returning players of the evening.

Sayaka could literally feel her mouth water. In the two weeks she’d been in the borderland all she’d been able to eat was snacks from a gas station and some questionable cans of vegetables. She felt her stomach rumble as she walked up to the buffet and grabbed a plate.

“Where to start?” She piled her plate high with steak, lo mein, dumplings, and BBQ, “I don’t care where this came from, I don’t care how they got it, I just want to stuff my face,” she cooed as she settled down at a table.

Sayaka sat and ate closing her eyes at the heavenly taste of real food for the first time in weeks, “if this is what hope is maybe Hatter isn’t wrong,” she sighed. She finished her first plate of food and leaned back in her chair with her eyes closed. The blaring bass of the music seemed to fade away for a minute and this was all there was, Sayaka sitting there with food in her stomach and feeling relatively safe. But, that moment of bliss was interrupted by a voice.

“Well hello there beautiful, you must be new around here.” Sayaka opened one eye to glance at the boy in swim trunks who had wandered over to her table. He placed a hand on the table and leaned over way too close to Sayaka’s face.

Shrinking back in her chair Sayaka pouted, “yea. I’m new. Excuse me I’m going to get more food,” she turned away from the boy as she got out of her chair, snatching the plate off the table and heading back to the buffet.

As she started loading her plate again the boy followed her, “aw come on sweetheart there’s way more to do here than just food. Why don’t you come have a drink with me and I’ll show you the ropes?” he cooed, and Sayaka felt a hand slide onto the exposed skin on the small of her back as he leaned over the table to cage her in.

“No thanks not interested,” she mumbled brushing his arm away to sidestep along the buffet.

“Pity. The Beach may have amazing food, but that cannot be the only thing you’d want to do on your last days alive?” He leaned over her again, but this time plucked a piece of BBQ pork off her plate and plopped it into his mouth, “Live like you’re dying baby. Haven’t you heard? We’re all fu—“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence as Sayaka whipped around slamming her fist into his cheek causing him to spit the pork out onto the floor. He landed with a loud thud and stared up at her in absolute shock.

“What the fuck!?”

“Don’t touch my fucking food!” Sayaka snapped.

There was a long pause as the guy scrambled to his feet, “you crazy bitch,” and ran off.

“Hmph…” Sayaka stood a deep frown forming on her face. She glanced over to the side noticing that the room had gotten quiet and everyone was staring at her. She grunted and turned around pushing her plate further onto the table, “made me lose my appetite,” she muttered and heading out of the dining room.

 She wandered around the hotel before settling on one of the few beach chairs that wasn’t being “used”. Everyone at the beach was truly living like it was their last day on Earth. Sayaka sighed, I guess because it technically could be.

The pool wasn’t as nice as Sayaka remembered it. This hotel used to be a pristine beach club for its very rich members, but now it was nothing more than a sketchy nightclub. The bass of the techno music made ripples in the water that were barely noticeable around the swarms of people jumping around in it. Their bodies were tightly packed and gyrating together like a wave of humans instead of water.

“Hi.” Sayaka was snapped out of her thoughts when a girl wearing a purple one piece and a side skirt spoke to her.

“Uh, hi,” Sayaka mumbled.

“You’re new huh?” She said. Sayaka nodded, but didn’t speak, “do you mind if I sit? It’s kinda the last chair,” she asked gesturing around to the other occupied beach lounges.

Sayaka hesitated, but moved over and nodded, “sure.”

The girl sat down and leaned over onto her knees before looking up at Sayaka, “my name’s Madoka. What’s yours?” She offered out her hand.

Sayaka watched it for a second before taking it slowly like a stray cat considering a free piece of food, “Sayaka.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” Sayaka raised her eyebrows.

“I’m sorry that you’re here,” Madoka glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, “in the borderlands I mean, but…” She paused and let out a sigh, “I can’t say the beach can always be better.”

Sayaka knit her eyebrows together watching her, “what do you mean? I thought this was meant to be the ‘oasis in the desert’,” she made air quotes.

Madoka turned to look at her with a sympathetic look in her gray eyes, “it can be. As long as you follow the rules,” her voice dropped to a whisper.

Almost as if on cue a group of people strolled by the pool with guns slung over their shoulders and hanging by their sides. She recognized some of them from her “introduction meeting”. A bald man with a scar over his eye and made of nothing but solid muscle, a man with tattoos over his face and a katana slung across his back, and the man with the Ak-15 and piercings on his face; along with at least 5 other men and women carrying weapons. They sauntered past the pool made comments to a couple of people and picked up 3 girls who seemed nervous, but happily leaned into the man with the piercings.

“The militants.”

“Hm?” Sayaka turned towards Madoka.

“Those are the militant corp. They maintain…” she paused, “order.”

Sayaka watched the group as they left the pool, “order, huh?”

“Yea… steer clear of them, obey the rules, and this place could be your own personal slice of heaven,” she paused as a loud moan came from one of the girls in the pool, “if that’s your sort of thing…” she mumbled.

Sayaka’s eyes scanned the pool. This certainly wasn’t her idea of heaven. All the food in the world wouldn’t make this heaven even in the borderlands. She had people to get back to this was just temporary. A white spot in the sea of bodies snapped her back to attention. A boy probably not much older than herself was leaning against the doorway wearing a white sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his face. He had been at the meeting too, sitting at the table two seats over from Hatter.

“Madoka.”

“Hm?” She raised her head.

“Who’s that?” Sayaka asked nodding her head slightly in his direction without looking at him again.

Madoka took the hint and passed a glance around the whole pool, so as not to bed suspicious, “that’s Chishiya he’s one of the 9 executive members. They help Hatter make decisions.”

Sayaka cast a glance over his direction again to find that he was gone and she frowned, suspicious little shit.

“Just don’t cause any trouble and you shouldn’t have to deal with them much,” Madoka paused and let out a chuckle, “although, I can’t say you’re off to a good start.”

Sayaka snapped her head around to look at her, “what?”

“I saw you slug the guy who touched your butt in the dining room. Honestly you better get used to that unfortunately happens often, and you don’t want the militants getting involved,” she added glancing back to the door they had disappeared through.

“It wasn’t because he touched my ass…” Sayaka mumbled looking down.

Madoka put her head to the side, “what was it then?”

“He took a piece of food off my plate…” she mumbled.

“What?”

“He took a piece of food off my plate, okay!” Sayaka snapped, “I haven’t eaten actual food in 2 weeks and he comes over all flirty and shit, and takes a piece of BBQ pork off my plate!? No fucking way!”

Madoka fell against the back of the chair laughing hysterically her bun bobbing back and forth.

“What?” Sayaka muttered.

“I can’t believe you punched him over a piece of BBQ!” She wheezed wiping the tears from her eyes.

“I’ve been hungry!” Sayaka replied waving her arms, “you don’t take food away from animals they bite!”

“Oh now you’re an animal!?”

“I just meant you don’t take people’s food! Especially people that haven’t eaten anything, but canned shit since they’ve gotten to this hellhole.”

“Oh some of those canned foods were questionable before the apocalypse now I don’t even know. I can’t believe you ate that!”

“I didn’t have much of a choice!”

“And how did you feel after that?” Madoka asked quirking an eyebrow.

Sayaka grimaced, “I threw up like twice…” she muttered.

Madoka burst out laughing again, while Sayaka pouted her cheeks turning red.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I totally understand I had the same problem before I came to the beach. I ate some food that was frozen and had thawed, and had diarrhea for like 2 days,” Madoka said laughing again.

Sayaka smiled and laughed, “oh god that would suck. We don’t even have working toilets out here!”

“Trust me I know!”

Sayaka and Madoka sat on the beach chair laughing together about their experiences, and at the people around them. Barely acknowledging the red lasers that shot down from the sky in the distance killing those whose visas expired. For a little while it didn’t feel like the beach was sketchy or they were trapped in this hellish borderland. It felt like Sayaka and Madoka were just long time friends who were having fun at a party on a Friday night, and there wasn’t the possibility of death looming over their heads.

[allsassnoclass]

my only weakness (you know all my secrets)

I have had the great fortune to participate in @ashesonthefloor‘s Halloween fic event this year!  Honestly it was a blast and I’m super excited to see everyone else’s creations!

Event Masterlist

For this event, we all were assigned a pairing, then got to choose from a list of prompts.  My prompt was as follows: “You’ve told me three separate times now you have a vampire kink and I’m starting to wonder if you know I’m a vampire.” Or, pretty explanatory. One person is a vampire. The other has a vampire “kink”. (Can also be them saying they like the aesthetic, or trying to hint that they know and don’t mind. Literally do what you want with it) I strayed a little bit, but the prompt idea is still there!  Hope you enjoy!

Michael is having a hard time figuring out if the amount of vampire jokes and references is due to Ashton knowing his deepest, darkest secret, or if that's just his sense of humor.

Read on ao3

1.

The first time it happens, they’re heading to their first date.

Michael hasn’t really dated anyone since the 90s, because dating is complicated.  He doesn’t age.  He can’t eat regular food.  Going out in the sun is dicy at best and results in extremely painful sunburn at worst.  He shows up in most mirrors now, because they rarely have silver backing anymore, but pictures are a no-go because his eyes cause a lens flare.

The last person he went on an actual date with was Calum, because they’ve been friends for centuries and figured they might as well give it a go.  Michael wishes they could have worked, but it took some making out before they both agreed that, as much as they love each other, it’s all platonic.  The date itself was fun, but there were no romantic butterflies to be found.  Michael has seen Calum naked many times before, and while he can appreciate a handsome man, when it’s Calum it does nothing for him.

Ashton is very handsome.  He’s also funny, and passionate, and he’s got more than enough snark to speak Michael’s language.  He’s got tenacity and determination, and for some reason part of that determination got directed towards getting Michael on a date with him.

He didn’t have to work very hard.  Michael said yes at the first opportunity.

For the first date, Ashton asked if he could pick him up, so Michael waits nervously in his living room, listening to his grandfather clock ticking.  (He’s had it since 1733.  It was made specifically for him by the clockmaker, a parting gift because if Michael stayed in the area for too much longer, his lack of ageing would get suspicious.)

(This is such a bad idea.  Even if this date goes well, Michael can’t be in a relationship with a human for very long before his secret will slip.)

His phone vibrates with a message, and he nearly jumps out of his skin before he realizes that it’s just Calum, not Ashton about to cancel or spring a sudden change of plans.

Cal: have fun on your date ;) wow him with your Biting sense of humor

Michael: i hate you the puns got old centuries ago

Cal: you love them

Michael’s doorbell rings, startling him enough that he fumbles his phone and effectively cutting off any sort of argument he may have started to get into.  Michael stands from the couch, takes a deep breath, and answers the door.

Ashton looks really fucking good.  Michael has only really seen him in their work clothes, when Ashton is writing up articles about the local music scene and Michael is busy approving things to put on the website, but he dresses up very nicely.  His hair is artfully tousled in a way Michael knows must take a little bit of time, and Michael thinks there might be just a hint of glitter under his eyes that would make his heart palpitate if it still did stuff like that.  His shirt is short sleeved, showing off his arms nicely, and there are roses printed against the white fabric that match the ones in the bouquet in his hands.

Michael doesn’t know the last time someone gave him flowers.

“Hi,” Ashton says.  “You look amazing.”

Michael feels like he’s underdressed now.  He’s got on a black long sleeve, because the sun hasn’t fully set yet and he’s trying to cover as much skin as possible, and a pair of black jeans.  It’s a nicer shirt of his, something name brand that he can afford due to decades of saving here and there, but he’s well aware that his overall style leans more casual than dressy.

“Thanks,” he says.  “You look absolutely fantastic.”

Ashton glances down and smiles, pleased.  Michael likes that he can make him react like that.

“I got you flowers,” Ashton says.  “I hope you aren’t allergic.  It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but I’d feel silly.”

“I’m not,” Michael smiles, taking them from him.  There are a few sprigs of lily of the valley tucked in amongst the roses and ferns, and he takes a deep inhale.  He loves the sweet scent of roses and how lively fresh flowers can appear to be even when they’re dying.  Maybe it’s self-centered, but he likes to think there are some similarities between him and the plants.  They’re not alive anymore, but they’re still going, and they can still bring people a little bit of joy for a few impermanent moments before moving on.

“I’ll put these in some water.  You can step in for a second, if you want.”

He had excessively cleaned the entry and living room earlier in the evening, paranoid in case something like this forced Ashton inside.  At least now he’s certain that there’s nothing incriminating lying about.

“Nice place,” Ashton says.

“Thanks,” Michael replies, already booking it for the kitchen to grab a vase.  Once he gets there he takes a moment to try to stop the slight shake to his hands and compose himself.

You are an ancient, immortal being who has lived through the fall of empires, he scolds himself.  You can handle one date with a cute boy who brought you flowers.

Ashton beams when Michael says he’s ready to go.

“I was thinking we could walk, if that’s okay,” he says while Michael locks the door behind them.  “It’s not far.”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re actually going, yet?” Michael asks.  Ashton mimes zipping his lips.  The only information he gave Michael was that it’s going to be a pretty casual setting (and yet he showed up to Michael’s door looking like that) and that Michael won’t have to eat.  That’s something he specifically requested, making up a bunch of excuses about being gluten free and severely lactose intolerant and giving a list of other allergens a mile long.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Ashton laughs when he pouts.  “Come on.”

He grabs Michael’s hand to start leading him down the street, and Michael absolutely will not admit to himself how nice it feels, warm and alive against his.

They go through some basic small talk on the way there, touching on current work projects since they’re in different departments and learning a bit more about each other’s families.  Michael makes an excuse about his being in Australia and tells Ashton about Calum instead, and Ashton fills time by describing his mom and siblings.  It’s cute to see the way he lights up, seeming radiant in the light of the setting sun that Michael has to squint harshly against.

“Wow, you really don’t like the sun,” Ashton says eventually.

“What? Oh, not really, I guess.”

“I should’ve known, but I wasn’t sure if all of you are fully nocturnal or not.”

“What?” Michael asks, alarm bells ringing.  “Why would you--what makes you say that?”

Ashton shrugs nonchalantly.

“You know.  You’re just so pale and pasty,” he says, obvious tease in his voice.  “Definitely closer to a creature of the night than an early bird, I’d guess.”

He’s joking.  Ashton has not, somehow, discovered his secret ten minutes into their first date.

“Oh fuck you,” he laughs.  “Not all of us can have perfect natural tans.  I burn really easily.”

“Do you glow in the dark, too?  Turn fluorescent under blacklights?”

“Shut up,” Michael says, but he leans a little into Ashton as he says it to let him know that the banter isn’t unwelcome.

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

Michael doesn’t have a chance to ask what he means before Ashton is pulling him towards the doors of a large building.  He holds it open for him like a gentleman, and Michael misses the contact of their hands but appreciates having all of his senses free to process the new environment, which is full of a plethora of new sights, sounds, and smells.

“Roller skating?” Michael asks, looking around the large arena.  It’s dim, but his eyes adjust immediately to take in the wondrously tacky carpet outside the rink, highlighted in brief bursts by rotating colorful lights.  Loud music plays over the speakers, and in the arena people in small groups or pairs are making their way around the track.  He can smell fried food and various types of beverages coming from a bar in the corner, mingling with the scent of unfamiliar people.  He takes it all in for a moment, then dials back his senses to make it more bearable.

“It’ll be fun,” Ashton says.  “Willing to give it a go?”

“Definitely.”

They go get their skates, and Ashton pays for the shoe rental and the entrance fee.  Michael hasn’t been roller skating in probably around a decade, and he’s excited Ashton picked this as their date location.  So many date ideas these days have to do with food, the only thing Michael absolutely can’t participate in, but Ashton found something that will hopefully be fun while still allowing them to talk and get to know each other better.

“Ready?” Ashton asks.  Michael nods, and then they step out into the rink.

Ashton, it turns out, is worse at roller skating than Michael is.  That makes sense, because Michael did it a lot in the 70s and 90s and has gone a few times since to keep it fresh, and Ashton isn’t awful, but there are a few instances where he wobbles and his hand immediately reaches out to grab at Michael’s arm before he rebalances and apologizes.  Michael laughs at him good naturedly and does a few circles around him until Ashton huffs and Michael slips an arm through his.

“Come on,” Michael says.  “Once you’re used to this in about fifteen minutes, I’ll race you around the track.”

Michael wins the first race, but Ashton wins the second, although Michael is giggling too much for it to count, in his opinion.  They spend a lot of time making laps and talking, and Michael skates backwards to show off at every opportunity while Ashton dances to the songs that come on over the speakers to make him laugh.  It’s one of the best nights Michael has had in a long time, and by the time they leave they’re both walking slowly, stretching their time together as much as possible.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Ashton says when they finally reach Michael’s door.  His front light makes the glitter under Ashton’s eyes sparkle, and Michael technically doesn’t have to breathe, but his breath still catches.

“Me too,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“So...do you want to do this again?” Ashton asks.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.  I’ll take you out, next time.”

“Okay,” Ashton smiles, ducking his head.  Michael catches a faint blush on his cheeks, blood rushing up to color them, and he loves that he sees Ashton like this.  At work, he’s always cool and level-headed, confident in what he says and strong in his opinions.  Michael has managed to turn him bashful, and that is possibly the best thing to come out of the date.

“I should let you get on with your night,” Ashton says eventually.  Michael tries to find some sort of excuse to get him to stay, but then Ashton leans forward and presses his lips to Michael’s cheek, soft and lingering.  When he takes a step back, Michael wants to pull him in again to memorize the scent of his skin and feel of his warmth.

“Good night,” Ashton says.

“Night,” Michael makes himself reply.  Ashton smiles again, then sets off down the street.  Michael watches him, smiling when he glances back and waves again, and continues to stand on his front stoop until Ashton is fully out of sight, even for him.

His phone buzzes as soon as he steps inside, and Michael pulls it out in case it’s something important or work related (or Ashton).

Cal: how was the date? or are you two still going…?

Michael: really fucking good

2.

On the third date, Michael gets to see the inside of Ashton’s apartment.

Michael took them stargazing for their second date.  There was a meteor shower he wanted to try to watch, anyway, and he found a good spot outside the city where it would be mostly visible.  Ashton likes being outdoors, and Michael doesn’t mind it at night, so he drove them out of the city, made the trek up a hill, and laid out a blanket for them to cuddle up in.  All in all, it was a great night.  Even the car ride to and from the location was amazing, because Michael told Ashton to make a playlist for it and they spent the entire time discussing favorite songs.  Ashton is such a snob about it sometimes, since he’s a music journalist and is always evaluating in his head, but there were a few surprises that he put on there simply because “good music doesn’t always have to be good music, Michael.”

Ashton kissed him on the cheek again when Michael walked him to his door.  Michael thinks that something so simple shouldn’t occupy so much space in his thoughts, but he’s been replaying it in his head over and over.  It’s a little distracting at work, especially when he gets one of Ashton’s articles to upload to the website.

They head to Ashton’s right after they both clock out.  Ashton doesn’t live far and typically walks (he really likes walking places, Michael has noticed), but Michael drives them so he’ll have his car handy at the end of the night.  It’s a relatively nice building, and Ashton holds the lobby door open for him, which counts enough as an invite to allow him to enter.  They take the elevator up to the fifth floor, then Ashton unlocks his door and steps in.

From what Michael can see, it’s a nice apartment.  The entry, kitchen, and living room flow easily together, and there’s a hallway off to the side that Michael assumes leads to the bathroom and bedrooms.

He can’t step over the threshold.  He hasn’t been invited in this time, not explicitly enough for him to freely enter despite knowing that Ashton wants him there.

“My roommate is out for the night.  I swear I cleaned before I left for work today,” Ashton says, puttering around the living room and picking up what looks like a stray sock, righting the pillows on the couch and straightening some books on the coffee table.  Michael leans against the doorframe and watches him.  Fluffing the pillows doesn’t really matter to Michael, but if it makes Ashton feel better it’s no hardship on him.

Ashton finishes, then glances around until he spots Michael still in the hall.

“Oh.  I didn’t really invite you in, did I.”

“It would’ve been the polite thing to do,” Michael teases.  “I’d hate to intrude, you know.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Ashton says, coming forward and taking both of Michael’s hands in his.  “Michael Clifford, I formally invite you into my home.  You are welcome here whenever you’d like.”

“A simple ‘hey, come in,’ would’ve been sufficient, but thanks,” he laughs, stepping forward.

“Absolutely not,” Ashton says.  “If you’re going to be vampiric about entering my home, I’m going to treat you with the proper respect, Count Clifford.”

Apparently the vampire jokes are going to be a thing.  Michael can work with that, instead of panicking over it.  If he turns it into a bit, maybe Ashton will brush things off longer.

“Thank you, mortal.  Now, I vant to suck your blood,” he says, exaggerating the awful stereotypical (absolutely false and insulting) accent.  It gets a laugh from Ashton, though, which is what he wanted.

“If you manage to beat me at chess, I’ll let you,” Ashton says.

Michael hasn’t let himself think about Ashton’s blood.  He can control himself very easily around humans, and bloodlust isn’t really a thing with him unless he hasn’t eaten in over a week.  He has a specific concoction that he picks up from the magic shop like clockwork, a mixture of animal blood, some herbs, a few drops of human blood (humanely donated), and whatever the fuck is the flavor for that batch, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely forgotten how amazing it tastes to drink pure, living blood.  It’s incredibly intimate, and Michael hasn’t been that close with a human in a very, very long time.

“Okay,” he chokes, once the silence has stretched on too long.  Ashton quirks an eyebrow at him, but moves to get the board games without comment.

Michael loves board games.  He loves all games, really, and he mostly deals with video games now to keep as up to date as possible (and because he doesn't have to invite friends over to play most of them).  What’s nice about games, though, is that they can change every time.  Michael has been playing chess since it was invented, but he’s never played against Ashton, and it’s going to be an entirely new experience.

Unfortunately, Ashton is extremely good at chess.

“What the fuck,” Michael says, king toppling after a five-move checkmate.

“Darn,” Ashton replies, faux innocent.  “I guess there’ll be no bloodsucking tonight.”

“Wait, I want a rematch.  I’m good at chess, I swear.”

Ashton wins twice more before they move on to another game.  They cycle through a few before landing on a card game from Ashton’s family, one that Michael hasn’t heard of or played before.  It has a lot of complicated rules, and Ashton walks him through it slowly.  If Michael feints misunderstanding more than necessary just to have Ashton’s focus on him, leaning close to look at his cards and explain the best moves, then that’s his business.

Michael doesn’t realize how much time has passed until Ashton’s stomach grumbles loud enough for him to hear.

“How is it already nine o’clock?” he asks.  “Shit, you haven’t eaten yet.  You could’ve had something.”

Ashton just shakes his head.

“I’m not going to eat in front of you if I don’t have anything to feed you, too,” he says.  Michael wishes it were possible for him to digest human food, because while Ashton does have a nice amount of blood he could tap into with permission, somehow Michael doesn’t think that’s on the table

“I have a weird meal schedule, anyway,” he says.  “I eat a really big lunch, then only something small late at night.  I really don’t mind.”

“I’ll remember that for future reference,” Ashton says.  “Although someday I hope you let me feed you.”

It is such a good thing that breathing is an option for Michael, rather than a requirement.  Ashton may not have any clue how what he’s saying sounds, but that doesn’t mean Michael isn’t affected.

“We’ll see,” he says, although there’s no chance that’ll ever happen.  “I should probably head home, anyway.”

Ashton checks the time.

“You can stay longer if you want.  My roommate will be back soon, but he wouldn’t mind.”

Michael wants to stay, but he’s not sure he’d ever leave if he did.

“I think I’ll go.  I’m not sure we’re at the “meeting the roommates” stage yet.”

Michael stands, and Ashton follows to walk him out.

“I had a good time.  Again,” Ashton says as they walk down the stairs.

“Me too, even if I think you were somehow cheating at chess.”

“Hey,” Ashton complains, then pauses.  “I was going to say that jealousy isn’t a good look on you, but everything is a good look on you.”

“Shut up,” Michael says.  “That’s not true at all.  I have made some bad fashion choices in the past.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ashton says.  Michael wishes he could show him the pictures from the 80s, as embarrassing as they are.  They reach the bottom landing entirely too soon, but Ashton walks him out to the parking deck until they’re standing next to his car.

“So,” Ashton says, squaring his shoulders.  “We’ve been on three dates so far, and I really like you, Michael.  Hanging out with you has been some of the most fun I’ve had in a long time.  I was wondering if you wanted to officially be my boyfriend.”

Fuck.  The smart thing would be to cut this off now, before either of them get too attached, because Michael already thinks it would absolutely shatter his non-existent heart if Ashton found out and thought he was a monster.

“Absolutely,” he says instead, because he’s an idiot who wants what he can’t have.  “These past few dates have been the most fun I’ve had in a long time, too.”

Ashton beams, like the sun breaking through clouds.  He has dimples, and Michael really wants to press his fingers into the divots.  He just wants to touch Ashton everywhere, really, to feel the soft skin and know that there’s blood bringing heat to it from his heart to every corner and crevice.

There’s something so absolutely tantalizing about how alive Ashton is.  Michael knows that he can’t be more like him, not even if he was actually alive still, but he’s content to have him near.  He’d be content to watch from a distance, honestly, but if Ashton wants him close then Michael is going to stay close.

He should not be this whipped after only the third date.

“Well,” he says once they’ve spent too much time grinning at each other silently.

“I should let you go,” Ashton says.  “I’ll text you.”

“I’d like that,” Michael says.  He goes to open his car door, but Ashton’s hand on his wrist stops him.  He leans forward and to kiss Michael on the cheek, just like the past two dates, but this time it lands a bit lower and closer to the middle.  The corner of his mouth hits Michael’s and lingers there for just a second longer than he can bear.

“For fucks sake,” he breathes, then slots their lips together properly.  Ashton smiles into the kiss before he can get it under control and properly kiss back.  Maybe it’s dramatic to say that this kiss feels like it’s filling some hole in Michael that he didn’t know was vacant, but Michael is a dramatic guy, and there’s something special about the way their noses bump and how instinctual it is to shift closer.  Michael doesn’t really want it to end, so he gives Ashton another peck before pulling away fully.  Ashton’s eyes take a moment to flutter open.

It’s definitely far too early to be in love, but Michael is very self-aware after being around for so long, and he knows he’s going to have to actively try not to fall head-over-heels for Ashton.

“Have a good night, Ashton,” Michael says.

“You too.  Drive safe.”

Michael keeps his composure as he pulls out of the parking space, aware of Ashton’s eyes on him.  He manages to keep it together all the way home, actually, but the moment his door shuts behind him he’s leaning against it, giddy with a crush and wondering what he’s just gotten himself into.

3.

Movie nights become a bit of a thing.  It’s a low-maintenance way to spend time together, and sometimes they’re both too tired after grueling work days or hard weeks to be around a lot of people.  Michael’s house has a pretty nice tv, and he has an extensive movie collection, including some horrible b-movies on VHS that Ashton finds endlessly amusing.  A lot of Michael’s favorite moments are spent snuggled up on the couch under Ashton’s arm or with his feet in his lap, watching the way the light from the screen plays off of his face more than the movie itself.

Ashton hasn’t seen the Twilight movies, which is almost a travesty.  Michael watched all of them in theaters with Calum, both of them weirdly captivated with how completely bonkers and inaccurate they are, and they’ve seen them often enough to quote them almost completely to each other at the drop of a hat.  Michael is tired today, and he wants something he doesn’t have to pay much attention to.

He sleeps significantly less than humans do, but that doesn’t mean that staying up for the past week and a half straight was a good idea.  He was also on his feet more than usual at work, and everything is hurting a little.  His body has better-than-average healing, but it’s also over a few centuries old.  Today, he’s feeling it.

Edward has just gotten the first sniff of Bella and looks like he’s about to puke when Ashton turns to him.  Michael is leaning against the corner of the couch, head lolling to the side and feet tucked up next to him.  He’s been looking at Ashton and letting his thoughts drift, and he should probably be more embarrassed than he is that he was caught at it.

“What’s up with you today?” Ashton asks.  “You’re suspiciously quiet.”

“Tired,” Michael says.  “My feet hurt.”

“I can help with one of those things,” he says.  “Give me your feet.”

“What?”

Ashton gestures until Michael uncurls, stretching his legs out until his feet land in Ashton’s lap.  He starts at Michael’s ankles, gently rubbing and then moving to the bottoms of his feet.  Michael jumps when he presses down on a particularly tight tendon, but it’s already feeling leagues better.

“I can’t believe you’re touching my feet,” he groans as Ashton presses a knuckle into the center, making his toes curl.  “That’s so gross.”

Ashton snorts.

“I don’t mind, but I’ll wash my hands after if it makes you feel better.  I just want to make you feel good.”

Michael’s face would be completely inflamed if he had the blood for it.

“Shut up.  This better not be a fetish for you.”

Ashton laughs this time, a full belly laugh that Michael would enjoy hearing more if it didn’t make him stop the massage.

“Would that be a deal breaker?” he giggles when he’s calmed down enough.  Michael takes a moment to evaluate if he’s actually joking or not, because he really likes Ashton and has loved being his boyfriend for the past couple of months, but feet might be where he draws the line.

“No, I don’t have a foot fetish,” Ashton says after a moment of Michael staring at him like a deer in the headlights.  Michael lets out a sigh of relief.  He can be adventurous about stuff like that, and he’s been around long enough to try basically everything, but someone being aroused by his feet will always be just a little too weird.

“Do you have any embarrassing fetishes or kinks?” Ashton asks conversationally.  “Just… for future reference, if that’s something you want.”

They haven’t done anything besides some lazy making out, which Michael is grateful for.  He likes that they’re taking their time with it.  He doesn’t want to rush this, but the thought has crossed his mind before.

He swallows.  Ashton’s alternating between glancing at the tv and paying attention to his massage, and Michael doesn’t know if he should be grateful that he’s not trapped under that gaze or upset that he doesn’t have Ashton’s full undivided attention.

“Nothing embarrassing,” Michael says.  “I’m open to a lot of things, but I really like being taken care of.  I’ve been told I can be demanding and needy.  Sometimes I like… being held down, I guess.  Nothing excessive, but…”

He’s an extra-strong, extra-resilient being.  Every time he feels like someone else has the control, it’s a special kind of rush.

Ashton glances at him from under his eyelashes, the blue-green light from the tv casting strange and otherworldly shadows over his face.  Michael swallows thickly again.

“I like taking care of my partner, so that works out,” Ashton says.  Michael nods.  Ashton turns back to the tv and tilts his head in consideration, putting his neck on full display.

“You know,” he says, “I never really was into biting, but now…” He trails off, then brings a finger up to his neck, tracing along the length of it subconsciously.  At least, Michael hopes that it’s subconscious.  The air is thick with tension, and if Ashton is doing this on purpose than he knows a lot more about Michael than he’s let on.

“It might be nice to be marked up a bit,” Ashton says.  He glances at Michael, the corner of his mouth turning up in a small smile.  “Maybe Bella had the right idea, going after a vampire.”

Michael snorts and the tension dissipates like a balloon popping.

“I hardly think anyone in this movie counts as a real vampire.”

“You don’t think real vampires sparkle in the sun?” Ashton asks.  “Darn.  What’s the point of vampires if you have to dump glitter on them for the sparkle effect?”

“You’re an idiot,” Michael laughs.

“I’m the idiot?  You’re the one who’s all the way over there when you have a perfectly good boyfriend right here who’s ready to cuddle you.”

Michael rolls his eyes and shifts to tuck himself against Ashton’s side.

“Happy?” he asks.

“Very,” Ashton says, taking a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over them.  It’s cozy.  Michael sighs in contentment.

“Do your feet feel a little better?” Ashton asks, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“If you want to take a nap now, you can.”

Michael hums and seeks out Ashton’s other hand, tangling their fingers together sloppily.  He’s tired, but he probably won’t drift off.  He has all night for a power nap, and right now he doesn’t want to miss a second of his time with Ashton.

4.

The door bangs shut behind them, and Michael doesn’t have a moment to reorient himself before Ashton is on him again, lips incessantly seeking his and body caging him against the wall.  Michael’s own hands are already slipping under his shirt, desperate to feel the warm expanse of his back and pull him even closer.  He’s always run cold, even before he was turned, but right now he feels like he’s burning up from the inside out, flames igniting with every point of contact between them.  Ashton gets a hand in his hair and tugs, and Michael makes a noise he wasn’t expecting to come out of him.

Don’t drop your fangs, don’t drop your fangs, don’t drop your fangs, he repeats to himself.  It’s typically effortless to keep his fangs retracted and unnoticable, but he hasn’t done this with someone he truly likes in a very, very long time.  He can’t allow himself to get so mindlessly overwhelmed that they slip down.

Ashton detaches their lips to take a breath, and Michael takes the opportunity to trail kisses over his jawline and down the column of his throat.  Ashton hums into it, the sound reverberating through his vocal chords, and Michael nips at his throat to turn the hum into a groan, sucking at it again to ease the sting.

There’s a particular feeling of satisfaction at leaning back briefly to take in his progress, knowing that the blood is pooling just under the surface of Ashton’s skin.  When he returns to his ministrations with a slightly harsher bite, Ashton jolts, rocking into him.

“Fuck, Michael,” he breathes.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Michael asks between kisses, trailing over his collarbones now because Ashton never buttons his fucking shirts.

“Anything.  Everything.  I--” He’s cut off by another groan that dissolves into a breathless laugh.  “You’re so fucking distracting; get back up here.”

He tugs on Michael’s hair again, guiding their mouths together.  It’s easier than breathing to let Ashton take control, and Michael could stand here all night and let himself be kissed against the wall if there weren’t other things he wanted to be doing in the bedroom.  Still, he whines when Ashton pulls away.

“I know you don’t sleep, and I’ll keep up as much as I can,” Ashton pants.  “I can’t fucking wait to take you apart.”

“So do it,” Michael says, not able to care about how desperate he sounds.  “No one’s stopping you.”

“You’re such a mouthy little shit,” he says, leaning back in for a kiss that Michael feels all the way down to his toes.  They don’t part again until they’re in the bedroom and falling onto the mattress.

-/-

Afterwards, Michael watches, amused, as Ashton fights to keep his eyes open.  They never turned on the lights, but Michael can see just fine with his vampire eyesight and the early rays of sunshine beginning to paint the sky outside in pinks and oranges.

“Just go to sleep,” Michael laughs, tracing another mindless pattern onto Ashton’s ribs.  “We’re done.  I can’t handle anything else.”

“Weird to sleep when you’re not,” he mumbles, eyes already slipping closed again.  “Can feel you watching me.”

“I won’t watch you,” Michael says.  “I’ll probably fall asleep right after.”

Ashton snorts halfheartedly.  Michael rolls his eyes, then nudges Ashton onto his side and fits himself behind him.  Ashton sighs and relaxes again almost immediately, a heavy weight at his front while Michael slides one arm under the pillow and anchors them together with the other.  He gets a great view of Ashton’s sweaty and tangled hair, and that’s about it.

“There,” Michael murmurs.  “Now I can’t watch you.  Happy?”

Ashton hums.  He’ll be out in less than a minute.

Regardless of all of Ashton’s jokes about Michael never sleeping (he resents that he looks tired enough at all times for that to be an assumption), Ashton managed to tire him out.  He doesn’t need to sleep right now, but there’s no harm in it.  He lets the steady push and pull of Ashton’s breathing and the heartbeat he can barely feel under his palm lull him, and he drifts off soon after.

5.

“You want me to meet your family?” Michael asks, eyes wide in the face of this new information.

“If you’re comfortable with it,” Ashton says nonchalantly, but the way he’s avoiding Michael’s eyes tells him this conversation is anything but casual.  He’s focused on throwing things into a blender, raspberries and peaches joining ice cubes and yogurt for a smoothie that Michael has watched him make dozens of times before.  Michael can drink smoothies if they’re blended enough, and honestly he’s got a bit of a blood hunger going on because the last batch of his concoction from the magic store tasted gross and he’s supposed to go in today to get the new one.  Still, a smoothie wouldn’t help with that, and he turned down Ashton’s offer in favor of a cup of coffee, wanting a warm mug in his hands.  He’s glad to have something to keep his arms from flailing at this new curveball, in any case.

Ashton turns on the blender, the angry sound filling the previously-serene morning.

He can’t meet Ashton’s mum and siblings.  He’s a vampire, and he’s already entirely too attached to Ashton as it is.  It’s easy to fantasize about revealing his secret and Ashton being okay with it when it’s just the two of them, but there’s no way he can get to know his family only to break their heart when he has to leave Ashton for his own good.

Michael can’t watch Ashton grow old without him.  He could do it for a few years, maybe a few decades, and he wants to spend as much time with him as possible, but eventually it would get too hard.  Michael’s good at running, and he’s good at being alone.  It’s harder to do both of those things with a family involved.

“That’s a big step,” Michael says once the blender stops.

“I’ve met Calum, and you said he’s closer than your family.”

“Against my will!”

Calum had insisted on meeting “the guy who’s got you wrapped around his finger,” and Michael had been powerless to stop it.  They get on like a house fire and Michael gets teased about five times more than he used to, but he secretly loves it.  Calum and Ashton are by far the two people he loves most in the world, and it’s nice to see them also enjoy each other.

“Michael,” Ashton says, pouring his smoothie into a glass and still refusing to look at him, something unfamiliar in his expression, “I’ve never gone this long without introducing them to someone I’m serious about.  They really want to meet you.”

“I--I want to meet them, too, but…”

Ashton sighs and finally faces him head-on.  Michael has never felt this small.

“Are you serious about us?”

“Of course,” he says, but it comes out more like a question, and he watches something shutter in Ashton’s eyes.  He turns back to the blender, starting to dismantle it so he can rinse it properly, always trying to keep the kitchen neat, and Michael knows that he has to say something to try to fix this, anything to stop the sad slope of Ashton’s shoulders and that hurt look in his eyes.

“Ash, I have to tell you something,” he says before he can think twice.  Ashton hums, and Michael steels himself for whatever reaction is about to occur, whether he has to bolt for the door or not.  “I--um, well, I…”

He hasn’t had to confess to someone in over forty years.  He doesn’t know how to do it anymore.  He swallows and tries again.

“I don’t really know how to say this, but… I mean, I--”

“Shit,” Ashton exclaims, something clattering in the sink.

“What’s wrong?” Michael asks, and a second later the metallic tang of blood reaches his nose.

“Cut my thumb on the blender blades,” Ashton says, turning around and sticking the pad of his thumb in his mouth.  Michael stares at him, unable to move.

The thing is, Ashton’s blood smells really good.  He knew it would, because if he loves everything else about Ashton it makes sense that he would love him down to the blood in his veins and the DNA it carries, but this is the first time Ashton has split skin in his vicinity, and it’s more to handle than Michael thought it would be.  He’s hungry, and he’s upset, and Ashton is right there in front of him, bleeding.

He shakes himself from that train of thought.

“Are you alright?  How bad is it?” he asks.  Ashton takes his thumb out of his mouth to check, and that just makes the smell intensify.  Michael feels a bit of saliva pool in his mouth and swallows it back.

“It’s not too bad,” Ashton says.  “It mostly just hurts, but once the bleeding lessens I’ll put a bandaid on it and it should be fine.”

He goes to put it back in his mouth and glances up at Michael, freezing at whatever he sees there.  Michael doesn’t know what his face is doing, or why his posture feels so stiff, or what the fuck he’s supposed to do with Ashton just standing there with a bleeding thumb, and for a long moment they just stare at each other.  Michael forgets to breathe.

Slowly, like he’s coaxing a startled animal towards him, Ashton reaches out his hand towards Micheal.  A drop of blood drips off his thumb and onto the floor.  Michael couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

“You know,” Ashton says, low and calm, “you could help me stop the bleeding, if you wanted.”

Michael stares at him, not comprehending the words, when he feels two pinpricks on the inside of his bottom lip.

His fangs dropped.

“I have to go,” he says, scrambling out of his seat and hastily putting his coffee on the table.  He probably spills some, but he can’t look back to check, shoving on his shoes and sprinting out the door, Ashton’s questions echoing behind him.

Shit.  Shit shit shit shit shit.

He’s scrambling for his phone as he tries to unlock his car, tears starting to cloud his vision with the panic.  He presses Calum’s speed dial as soon as he gets the door open, tearing out of the parking space without putting on his seatbelt.

“Hello?” Calum finally answers.

“My fangs dropped,” he says, consonants coming out in that strange way they do when his mouth has more teeth than usual.

“What happened?” Calum asks immediately.  He knows how serious something like this can be, especially for someone like Michael, who tries so hard to avoid it.  He sniffles and blinks the tears out of his eyes so he can see the road better.  Calum’s house is close, and he just needs to get a few more blocks before he has backup.

“I was with Ashton and he cut himself on a blender.  I--we had a fight, or--I made him feel bad, in any case, and I haven’t eaten enough, and then he cut himself and I felt the fangs and ran out of there with no explanation.  He’s going to hate me.  I’ve ruined everything!”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Calum says, but it’s not like Ashton is his boyfriend.  Michael doesn’t know how to recover from something like this.

Calum tries to console him for the rest of the short car ride, stopping once Michael pulls into his driveway to turn an assessing gaze on him instead.  His expression tells Michael that he’s leaving much to be desired right now.

“Alright, Mikey.  Let’s get you out of the sun, yeah?  We’ll figure this out.”

He holds out his arms, and Michael falls right into them, letting Calum lead him into the house.  His fangs still prick at his lips, a sharp reminder of everything he ruined due to one second of lousy control.

+1

The bell to the magic shop digs as they enter, and Michael pulls down his sunglasses.  Calum got him to stop crying and gave him a bit of his own leftover concoction, because he hadn’t drunk all of it due to the taste, either.  It was enough for Michael to be able to get his fangs back under control, but it doesn’t stop how miserable he feels about the way he left, or the conversation they were having beforehand.

He can’t let himself be around Ashton if his fangs are going to drop like that.  He would never hurt him, he knows that, but there’s still the potential that he can’t ignore.  Ashton’s safety and comfort isn’t something he can risk.  Even if Ashton was somehow okay with him being a vampire, they wouldn’t work.

Michael has known this since the beginning.  He let himself fall in love, anyway.

There are three missed calls and over a dozen text messages that he still has to try to answer on his phone.  There’s no way to do that without breaking both of their hearts, but Calum told Ashton that Michael is physically okay and that he’d talk to him tomorrow.  For now, he needs to sort through his own feelings and calm down, and for that they need to pick up the weekly blood supply.

“Hi!” the witch at the counter says.  His name is Luke, and Calum’s been flirting with him ever since he started working there.  It would be cute if it didn’t make these excursions so tedious, and if Michael himself wasn’t currently mourning what is soon to be the end of an absolutely spectacular relationship.

“Our usual, please,” he says curtly.  Luke glances between him and Calum, who gives a beaming smile, then heads to the back storage room.

“Maybe it’ll taste less like shit this time,” he mutters.  Calum nudges him, but doesn’t get the chance to say anything before the bell over the door chimes again.  Michael knows who it is before he turns around, the scent and rhythm of his heartbeat as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Ashton freezes in the doorway.  He has changed into a sweatshirt, the one he wears when he’s having a bad day because it feels like a perpetual hug without having to be touched, and Michael is probably going to cry again.  Out of the three of them, Calum pulls himself together first.

“Hello, Ashton.  I didn’t know you frequented this shop.”

“Ashton!” Luke says, returning from the back with their order in a crate.  “Did you bring it?”

Michael finally notices the tupperware in his hands when he hands it to Luke, who opens a corner and sniffs.

“You know each other?” Michael asks.

“Oh, sorry!” Luke says.  “This is Ashton, my roommate.  I’d never eat lunch if he wasn’t there to bring it to me.”

“You’re the roommate?” Michael asks.  In all of their months of dating, he never managed to meet the roommate, even though Ashton has known Calum for weeks.  Weird schedules and Michael’s aversion to meeting and possibly getting attached to more people prevented it.  Luke looks between Michael, Calum, and Ashton, and then a lightbulb hits.

“You’re Ashton’s Michael!”

“How many other vampires named Michael do you know?” Ashton asks, and Michael reels back, Calum’s hand on his spine the only thing keeping him upright.

“You know?”  Ashton frowns.

“Michael, I’ve known since the first day I met you.”

“Wh--you never mentioned it!”

“I made some references, then figured it wasn’t something you were comfortable talking about.”

“Wait,” Luke says.  “You know Ashton is a minor deity, right?”

“What? ”

Michael turns desperately to Calum, because none of this makes sense, but Calum is having some sort of silent conversation with Luke.

“You two need to talk,” he says eventually.

“I need to show Calum something in the back, anyway,” Luke says, grabbing Calum’s sleeve and tugging him around the counter, shutting the door to the storeroom behind them.  It’s not the slickest move that Michael’s ever seen, but he’s having a crisis and can’t be bothered to laugh at Luke for it.

“So,” Ashton says.  “It seems there’s been a bit of miscommunication here.”

“You’re a deity?” Michael asks.  Ashton starts to blush, which is cute.  He clasps his hands together and nods once.

“Yeah, my entire family is.  The religion died down centuries ago, so it’s mostly our belief in each other that’s keeping us alive.  I’m basically just an immortal human now, but I’ve been around long enough to recognize other non-humans when I see them.”

“And you’ve known I was a vampire the entire time?” he asks.  Ashton nods.  “Oh.”

“I thought that you knew that I knew,” he says.

“I didn’t,” Michael says.  “I thought you would hate me when you found out.”

“I could never hate you,” Ashton says, taking a step forward and reaching for him before he aborts the movement.  Michael looks at his feet and wonders if what he says next will change that.

“My fangs dropped earlier, when you cut your thumb.”  His voice is steadier than anticipated, but he can’t help but brace himself for Ashton to back away or run screaming.  He doesn’t do either of those.

“Is that why you left so quickly?”

He nods, shame pooling in his stomach.

“I was offering, you know?  I wouldn’t have minded if you had a taste.”

“But I didn’t know that at the time,” Michael says, focusing on the shame so he doesn’t do something horrible like start thinking about what it would really be like to have some of Ashton’s blood.  “I just… lost control.  I can’t do that.  I won’t let myself.”

“I think you’re being a little hard on yourself,” Ashton says gently, stepping closer until he can put his hands on Michael’s arms, then sliding down to grasp his hands.  “Can you look at me?”  Michael tries, then shakes his head.  “That’s okay, and your fangs dropping earlier is okay, too.  You had a lot on your mind, were probably a little hungry, and I was waving my bloody finger under your nose, even if you didn’t recognize it as an invitation.  What’s important is that you didn’t try anything without asking.  You didn’t hurt me; you removed yourself from the situation.  I would say that that’s keeping things pretty under control, wouldn’t you?”

“But I could’ve hurt you, even if I didn’t.”

“Michael, you’re not a mindless beast,” Ashton says.  “The fact that you’re this upset about your body’s natural physical reaction shows that.  You’re not going to do anything to hurt someone else like that.  You have to trust yourself.”

Michael wrinkles his nose, then finally makes himself meet Ashton’s eyes.  There’s nothing but compassion there, no fear or disgust.

“You’re not going to hurt anyone,” Ashton repeats.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone,” Michael agrees.  “I can trust myself with that.”

A grin breaks out on Ashton’s face.

“Good,” he says.  “I trust you, too.”

“And, about meeting your family,” Michael starts.

“Don’t worry about that,” Ashton says.  “I was a little pushy.  We can talk about it and figure out something that works for both of us.”

“I was going to say that I’ll do it,” Michael says.  “Half of my worry had to do with me being a vampire and you and your family being unsuspecting humans, but that’s not an issue anymore.”

“What about the other half?”

“Just normal meeting-the-family jitters,” he says.  “They’re really important to you, and I don’t want them to hate me because I didn’t meet them earlier.”

“They won’t hate you,” Ashton says.  “You’re a delight.”

“I hope they share that thought.”

“They will.  I love you, so they will, too.”

Michael feels like he’s going to burst.  He also feels menally exhausted from this entire affair and the emotional whiplash it’s giving him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.  Ashton answers by leaning forward, and Michael sinks against him, melting into the feeling.

“So,” Calum says loudly, startling them both.  “Are you guys good now?”

“What do you think?” he snips.

“I don’t know, Luke,” Calum says, turning away from Michael and towards him.  “Do you think that they’re good now?”

“They did look rather cosy,” Luke says.  “In fact, I’d say that Ashton looked ready to pledge himself to Michael as his personal blood bank.  His little ketchup packet, if you will.”

Calum bursts out laughing.  Michael tries to be affronted, but Ashton starts laughing incredulously next to him.

“Ketchup packet?  Is that what I’m reduced to?”

“There are worse titles,” Calum says between bouts of laughter.  Luke looks ridiculously pleased at this development.

“Please never refer to him as my ketchup packet again,” Michael says.  “I’m begging you not to.”

“If the fangs fit,” Luke says, which makes Calum dissolve into laughter again.  It’s not even funny.  Honestly, they deserve each other.

“Come on,” Ashton says.  “Let’s go back to my place.  I want to hear all about your vampire antics from the olden days, now that I know you’re okay with talking about it.”

“Only if I get to hear stories about being a minor deity,” Michael says, grabbing his part of the blood order.  “Cal, you’re paying for this one!”

They’re out the door before Calum can protest, and Ashton puts an arm around his waist as they walk.  It’s uncomfortably sunny out, but Michael feels no rush to get back inside.  They’re both immortal, and they’ve got the rest of their lives.

[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

Behind The Album: Sticky Fingers

In April 1971, the Rolling Stones released their 12th studio album, Sticky Fingers. The recording of this album would mark new territory for the band in a lot of ways. Sticky Fingers would be the first album that had absolutely no participation from the late Brian Jones. This would be the first album released on their new label, Rolling Stones Records. The record would be the first major effort from new guitarist,Mick Taylor. He had participated on the previous album, but on a limited basis. The timing of the album was important as well because it would be the first major work from the band since the disaster at Altamont Speedway. Many things had changed in music since the new decade began.

An important factor that played a large part in the recording of the album was the fact that the band had tremendous tax issues at the time. They had learned that their manager Allen Klein had not been paying their taxes, even though he told them he was doing so. This meant that each member of the band owed quite a bit of money in back taxes to the government. Mick Jagger would later say, “I just didn’t think about taxes and no manager I ever had thought about it, even though they said they were going to make sure my taxes were paid. So after working for seven years I discovered nothing had been paid and I owed a fortune.” One of the first steps came in the band firing Allen Klein. Yet, this did little to minimize their money issues because unbeknownst to the band they had signed over copyrights in America to all their 1960’s material. Klein’s company Abkco Records now held ownership and received all royalties for their music. This financial catastrophe meant that they needed to release new music in order to make any money from the recordings. For this reason, Rolling Stones records was created to begin the process of getting the band out of debt. They needed to retain ownership of their music in order to maximize any kind of profit. After detaching themselves from Allen Klein, Prince Rupert Loewenstein was hired as the group's new financial manager. Looking back now, they finally found someone that would not rob them blind. Atlantic Records was hired to license all of their music, while Marshall Chess of Chess Records would handle the business side of the label. They seemed to trust his background as the president of a hardworking blues label more than anything else. There was a lot riding on this album financially for the band because if it did not sell, then things would go from bad to worse for each member personally.

The recording of Sticky Fingers actually began during their tour of the United States in 1969. They made a visit two muscle Shoals in Alabama because some of their favorite music was recorded there. During this time, the band recorded three songs, “Brown Sugar,” “Wild Horses,” and “You Gotta Move.” Keith Richards with later talk about those sessions in an interview. “The session] one of the easiest and rockingest sessions we’d ever done. I don’t think we’ve been quite so prolific… ever. Those sessions were as vital to me as any I’ve ever done. I mean, all the other stuff we did – ‘Beggars Banquet’, ‘Gimme Shelter’, ‘Street Fighting Man’, ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’ – I’ve always wondered that if we had cut them at Muscle Shoals, if they might have been a little bit funkier.” Yet, the recording of the album would take more than a year. The band did not reconvene for more tracks until March 1970 at Mick Jagger‘s estate, Stargroves. He did not have a studio in his house, but instead they used a mobile recording unit. They would use the same thing on the next album, which essentially carried around in a van all the equipment in the sound booth at a recording studio. This unit also allowed the band to record any musicians that just stopped by for a visit. One reason the album took so long was because the material they made during this period was so outstanding. If a song did not end up on Sticky Fingers, then they decided to use it for Exile on Main Street.

Unlike their other releases, this album embodied straight rock and roll. They did not experiment with country, gospel, or anything else for this record. Looking at it in hindsight, this is precisely why people love this album, while critics had mixed reactions about it. The one thing the band did introduce with this album was their new guitarist Mick Taylor. He became a revelation musically because Taylor stood out as the most technically skilled guitarist in the band's history. Keith Richards even said in an interview that the guitar part on “Can’t You Hear Me Knocking” could not be played by him. The guitarist also brought a much more melodic guitar as opposed to Brian Jones previously. This would not be the Rolling Stones, if they did not have any issues at all in the recording of the album. During this time, Keith Richards began to gradually descend into complete and utter heroin addiction. At times, he was so intoxicated during recording they had to abandon completely certain takes. The delay of the album probably had much more to do with his heroin addiction, rather than the amount of material they were producing. Richards would later comment on why he began using the drug. “It was] the periods with nothing to do that got me into heroin. It was more of an adrenaline imbalance. You have to be an athlete out there, but when the tour stops, suddenly your body don’t know there ain’t a show the next night. The body is saying, ‘What am I gonna do, leap out in the street?’ It was a very hard readjustment. And I found smack made it much easier for me to slow down very smoothly and gradually.” At one point during the recording, things got so bad that Mick Jagger filled in for him on the song “Moonlight Mile.” At no point previously would that have even been imagined. This would become quite the conundrum for the band considering the fact that they had just fired Brian Jones for this exact reason. Another interesting aspect of Sticky Fingers was the fact that Gram Parsons did a country version of “Wild Horses” one year before the album was even released for his band. There exist differing accounts on how it all transpired. Jagger and Richards were totally fine with the release of the song. Before his death, Parsons would say in interviews that the song was a gift to him for helping them with country rock songs like “Country Honk” on Sticky Fingers and Let It Bleed. The track is very different from the one the band released, and some critics even argue that the Parsons version is better.

One of the things about Sticky Fingers is that the art associated with the album became just as important as the music. Andy Warhol designed the cover of the album, which was a pair of pants with a working zipper. The first albums had the zipper pull all the way down to reveal white underwear. These albums are collectors items today because they eventually had to switch to a plain photograph. The metal from the zippers was damaging the records when they were stacked in trucks to be delivered. Unfortunately, nobody really knows for sure who the model is on the cover of the album. Some have suspected that it is Joe Johnson, the brother of Warhol's lover at the time. The other iconic piece of art released with this album came in the introduction of the Rolling Stones signature tongue. This has become the most recognizable image for their brand. You probably cannot live in this country without having seen it at least once. The inspiration for it came to Jagger via calendar he owned about Indian culture. “I was looking for a logo when we started Rolling Stones Records. I had this calendar on my wall, it was an Indian calendar, which you’ll see in Indian grocery stores, and it’s the goddess Kali, which is the very serious goddess of carnage and so forth. And she has, apart from her body, this tongue that sticks out. So I took that to John Pasche and he ‘modernized’ it somewhat.”

Upon its release, critics had very mixed reactions towards the album. The main flaw that some found it possessing came in the fact that it underwhelmed. This issue represented what these critics have come to love about the band's more recent efforts. On Beggars Banquet and Let It Bleed, the Stones had experimented quite a bit with their sound venturing off into new areas. Yet, Sticky Fingers did not go in those places, but instead stayed fairly close to basic rock and roll. This emerges as an age old story with a lot of bands. You must do something different in order to impress the critics because they will often say I have already listened to that. The album became the band's most popular one to date as it went number one in both England and America. That fact should actually be the true testament on how good the band's album is overall.

[thebrochtuarachs]

The Making of Outlander: The Series Author Tara Bennett on Why She is Thankful for What Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe Shared

By Paulette Cohn

The countdown to season five of Outlander continues with three months left to go until the Feb. 16 premiere on STARZ. But in the interim, author Tara Bennett has a little something to help the time pass more quickly and provide you with an Outlander fix. It is her new book, The Making of Outlander: The Series: The Official Guide to Seasons Three & Four, which takes a deep dive into the making of the series, and is now available in stores and online.

“We spent a lot of time on the first one trying to frame it with new voices and different ways of telling the stories, or with people that aren’t covered by typical press for the show, and it went over well,” Bennett tells Parade.com in this exclusive interview. “Because of that, we wanted the second book to look and feel similar, as if you were making a collection on your shelf, and so we kept the format, we kept the relative design, and then we looked into spotlights and head-of-department features, so we could change it out, so you didn’t feel like you were learning the same thing but for a different year.”

The Making of Outlander: The Series is a beautifully crafted tome, and what makes it a must-have for fans of both Diana Gabaldon’s novels and for fans of the Starz TV series – as well as a great holiday gift — is the large number of photos, many that have never appeared in print or online stories.

“I did a cross check of everything that was available to the public via press versus what was made available to us for the book,” Bennett says. “We tried to put in as much new stuff as possible, otherwise, why bother buying the book? I literally made a huge Excel spreadsheet of what was given to press, and then what was given to us, and then made sure that we leaned into those things. If there was a beautiful picture that STARZ and Sony gave the regular press, it was still nice to be able to find a way to feature it, so that you could really look at it in a different way than looking at it on your tablet or your laptop.”

Bennett was also able to coax some interesting tidbits that hadn’t been in print before out of series stars Sam Heughan (Jamie Fraser) and Caitriona Balfe (Claire Fraser), like what lengths they went to for season three and four to accurately portray being parents, as neither of them are in real life.

“They both spent a lot of time trying to establish and understand that dynamic and really create that rapport with their costars,” Bennett relates. “Sam has some really great stories about the hesitancy of that, working with the little boy that plays Willie, his son, and creating that rapport. Then several of the actors also talk about watching him with the young actor and how endearing that was. I think that’s just a nice testament to both of them as actors is the level that they go to, to try to create the authenticity with Jamie and Claire.”

You’ve told us what’s the same about this book, what’s different other than the seasons?

We went into a lot more, specifically, about the production design and visual effects, how they worked in tandem, which was a lot more subtle in the first two years. Then in season three and four, you had tall ships that had to be created in visual effects, you had shooting Scotland for the United States, so for a lot of the environment, they would have to use blue screen to create Jocasta’s plantation house in season four. That doesn’t exist in Scotland.

And so, they basically had to do a lot of visual effects to that house, including an entire second floor, and the environment around it to make it look like it was truly in Wilmington. We decided to peel back a layer with that.

We did a lot about the First Nations, basically, the big immersive sets that they created and then really tried to look at some of the new cast, so that we could give them time in the sun. So, it’s people like Ed Speleers, who played Stephen Bonnet, and, of course, giving much bigger spreads to Sophie Skelton (Brianna) and Richard Rankin (Roger), because they’ve been bumped up in terms of presence, especially by season four, so they equal Sam and Caitriona now in terms of the spreads that they get in the book.

To me these are special coffee table books. I keep mine out, so I can flip through it any time.

Yes. That’s nice. That’s why we try to make sure when we play around with the color and the brightness of the pictures that you’re really getting the best possible version of the picture on the page, so that you really get to look at details that your eyes will get a little tired from looking at on a computer.

In the first book, there was a story about Caitriona’s casting, which was something that I didn’t know before I read it there. Do you have stories like that in this book? Is there one you could share?

David Berry, who is Lord John Grey, is a character that the book readers really, really love and that TV fandom has embraced. He’s Australian, and the story that both the casting director and he tell in tandem — she in her section and he in his — is that he was really part of a wide net that they put out for the show, because there’s so many television shows being produced now that even since the first season of Outlander, it’s harder to find actors who aren’t already engaged in something. So, what they used to do was just look in England and Scotland, but now they have put it out to the world when they’re doing a new casting call for a major character.

So, David Berry has a good story about how, in a casting sense, they went to Australia and were really starting to look for Australian actors who are very good, and then about how quickly his turnaround was. He had to deal with playing that character on the fly the entire first season. He’s been intermittent in the show, so his stories have been really fun about trying to get into character, but really not being with the show very much so that’s been a challenge.

How involved were Sam and Caitriona in the second book?

I have to thank them. It’s been a benefit that I’ve been able to cover the show as a reporter and then also be able to do these books. I first started covering Outlander for print and online outlets, and so, they’ve known me. Then when I started doing interviews with them for the book, there was already a recognition factor. The really great thing is that over a span of — now they’re into production for season five, they know me even more.

As it is with all lead actors in a television show that’s over four seasons, it gets harder and harder to get them, because they’re really busy, and when they’re on breaks, they’re doing other projects. But they have always made time to say, “Yes, I’m going to talk with Tara,” and so I’m always super grateful because, at the end of the day, there is no companion book of value without the two of them. Claire and Jamie are the books, and so, I would’ve really been devastated if we hadn’t gotten them. I ended up sitting on the phone with each of them separately.

In some instances, Sam was in a car literally heading to LAX, so a good way to combat traffic is to talk to me. With Caitriona, she was on a break from shooting, and so, we talked when she was doing a little bit of other press for season four and so it ended up being really great.

I always try to approach their interviews, in particular, as they’re covered a lot by mainstream media, so I try to talk a little bit more thematic and about the work that they do to progress the characters from year to year. I think they really appreciate that kind of deeper conversation that they don’t always get when they’ve got 10-minute hits with media outlets. So, that was always my focus and they were always really gracious. I always know that they really get thoughtful and dig deep to think about those moments that mean a lot to them and how they progress the character.

Any conversations about working with Rollo or the horses?

All those animals make noise and create problems and they’re never fun, so they look like they’re happy around them, but John Bell, who plays young Ian, is the only one that really likes Rollo because he was the one that had to, basically, help train him from its youth, so that he would respond to him.

Everybody else had had enough of those animals. There are good stories about how Matt Roberts, who’s the new show runner who took over from Ron Moore, had to go around the globe to find those animals and bring them back. They would basically make a global search for multiple puppies and other animals that would fit what the readers’ expectations were, so it’s not just going to a shelter and yanking an animal, it’s this whole thing that the book explains as well, which was surprising to me.

And this coming season, they had to look for Adso, too.

Adso will be, hopefully, in book five and six if people buy this book.

Did Diana participate at all? I know she’s been busy working on the next novel in the franchise.

For the first book, Diana, obviously, was establishing the transition, and so, she did the foreword. Then she also was a cameo actor and she also wrote episode 211. So, for season three and four, because of her own book deadlines and production timing, she didn’t end up doing an episode for either season three or four, and we wanted to leave her alone. We didn’t really want to bug her unless she really had free time, which she didn’t.

So, we asked the foreword go to Matt Roberts. So, she isn’t present but she’s been super gracious in terms of doing book signings and with approval, saying she appreciated what we did with the companion for the seasons.

But the nice thing is, she announced that she’s going to be doing episode 511. She’s writing that one, so I have a hope that if this book does well, then she will be back in the next tome, which is great.

In addition to photos, there’s sketches of some of the different sets.

We were able to get some sketches from Jon Gary Steele, who is the production designer, and then we were also able to get sketches from Terry Dresbach, who was the costume designer through the middle of season four.

That was something I wanted for the first book, lawyers sometimes don’t always make that easily happen, and so, because we knew we wanted them and could get the request earlier for this book, we were able to get the sketches directly from Terry and from production design to be able to give a flavor of some of the things that they built. So, you get a general idea of mood board things, which are very important for Terry in coming up with the overall ideas of what a character looks like, especially as they progress through the eras.

Then, for Jon Gary Steele, who really uses the facilities of the warehouses in Glasgow to basically repurpose, he’s a fun part of the book. He really explains when you see a new set what it came from, why he created something so that he could easily retrofit it to something for the next year, and there’s always a sense of they are borrowing from last year to use the footprint for what they’re going to need to do for the next year. So, there’s basically a taste of everything that came before and everything that he builds going forward.

[avengerscompound]

That Kid You Knew - Chapter 4

That Kid You Knew: An Iron Man Fanfic

Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕ @iron-man-bingo​ Square:  Unrequited Crush?

Warning:  Some foreplay

Word Count:  2368

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Summary:  You had grown up knowing Tony Stark but as you’d gotten older you’d lost track of him.  When you see him at a party you have a drug-fueled one-night-stand with him.

10 years later he finds you again and has to come to terms with the fact he’s been a father all the time.

Chapter 4

Tony’s lips pressed against yours.  Gently at first, just testing the waters.  They were so soft and the feather touch he used made your skin prickle. Your hands ran up to the back of his head and you tugged at his hair.  He moaned and deepened the kiss.  You parted your lips and right away there was the press of his tongue, hot and wet, touching on yours.

It had been so long since you had been with anyone, that you had completely forgotten that the last person you were with was this one.  Your body responded on autopilot, craving his touch, wanting more and more.

He started guiding you back on the couch and you spread your legs, letting him move between them.  His cock hardened and the press of it through his trousers and your own pants created heat and friction that sent currents of pleasure surging through you.

His hand traveled up under your shirt and finally, reason kicked in.  “Stop.  Stop, Tony.”  You murmured, almost unintelligible.

“It’s okay.  I have protection.”  He whispered against your neck.

Your body seemed to want to betray you because you tilted your head back giving him more access to you even as your mind screamed how bad of an idea this is.  “No.  Tony.  It’s not that.  Please stop.”

He sat up and looked at you with both confusion and frustration written on his features.  “What’s wrong?”

You sat back up and drew your knees up against your body.  Your panties were soaked through and were making you slightly more uncomfortable than you already felt.  “This is a bad idea.”

“I promise, we’ll be careful.  I have condoms.”  He said. “No more siblings for Owen until we are ready for them.”

You flinched.  How long had he been thinking about this that he’d already planned you both having more kids?   “Tony… listen to yourself.  You have a son in there who only just called you dad.”

“I know that.  And you’re his mom.  We should be together.  We don’t have to get married unless you want to but we should be living in the same place.  Not just friendly acquaintances that live in different boroughs.”  He said.  The frustration was clear in his voice as he pleaded for you to see it from his point of view.

You sighed as that heartbroken feeling of ruining everything that you used to be burdened with suddenly came back full force.  Not that you would have wanted to live with him back then either.  It just so much worse now that you aren’t sure about it because now those things do sound nice.  But the reasoning is wrong.  “Do you really want to add the complication of dating me to the new thing you have just got going with Owen?  What if we don’t work out?  The custody stuff is hard enough to deal with while we’re getting along.”

Tony ran his hands down his face and got up and started pacing.  When he spoke he was obviously worked up.  “I want to try.  I hate this.  I hate that I barely know him.  I hate I only get to see him when you say that it’s okay to and up until recently someone had to be supervising us.  I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted kids, but I met him and I know I do now.  But this wasn’t how I wanted to do it.”

You stood up and put your hands on your hips.  “So is that who I am?  You’re own personal broodmare?  We move into your house so you can be with Owen full-time and when you feel like it, you get to knock me up again and then be a dad the way you feel is the right way to be one?”  You hissed, keeping your voice at just above a whisper for fear that Owen will wake up and hear you fighting.  “Do you even like me like that?”

Tony stopped and stared at you, putting his glasses back on.  “I like you… we could… Fuck!”  He groans loudly.  “Fuck!”

“Tony!  Keep your voice down!”  You spat.  “You need to think about him and not your fucking preconceived notions about what being a dad should look like.  If you actually want this -”  You said indicating between the two of you.  “To be something more, we can’t just jump into it because you’re horny or you have some image of how things are supposed to be!”

You stormed off to your room. You thought maybe you heard Tony whisper your name but you’re too upset to care.

The next day when Tony came to pick Owen up, things were tense between the two of you.  Owen picked up on it immediately and seemed to go into some kind of repair mode.  It made you feel guilty as hell.

“Dad, why don’t we take mom to the zoo?”  He suggested, looking from one of you to the other.  “Or… or we could go see a show on broadway.  Me and mom have been talking about seeing that Harry Potter one forever now.”

Tony sighed and put his hand on Owen’s shoulder.  “I was hoping we could do something, just you and me today, bud.”

“I know… but…”  He said, looking at you.

“It’s okay.  You see me all the time.  Go spend time with your dad.”  You said.

“Maybe, can we have dinner together tonight?”  He said hopefully.

You looked at Tony and he gave a slight nod.  “Sure.  I’ll cook something for the three of us.”

Owen looked between the two of you and frowned slightly.  “Okay.”

Tony had ended up taking Owen to the Intrepid Sea, Air and Space Museum figuring there would likely be some Iron Man and War Machine things to show off to him.  Owen kept looking back at him as they walked around.  Each time Tony tried to get Owen to engage in one of the activities, the boy barely participated.

They sat down in the cafeteria at lunch and Tony looked him over as he ate his slice of pizza.  “You don’t have to worry about me and your mom.”

“What’s going on with you guys?”  Owen asked.  “Yesterday you were happy and getting along and today you won’t even look at each other.  Is it because I called you dad?  I can not do that.”

Tony felt a pain in his chest.  He reached over and put his hand on Owen’s shoulder and looked him in the eye.  “It has nothing to do with anything you did.  I love you so much, bud.  That’s never going to change.  I made a mistake last night.  I really like your mom, but now she’s upset with me because I’m an idiot.”

“What did you do?”  Owen asked.

Tony shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “That’s not really the point.  She was right.  I need to worry about you and me first.  Okay?”

“Please?  What did you do?”  Owen begged.

Tony let out a breath and ran his hand through his hair.  “I kissed her.”

Owen’s whole face lit up.  “But that’s not bad.  Maybe you can go on a date.  Mom never goes on dates with anyone.”

Tony shook his head.  “I’d like to.  But she’s right.  What if we end up breaking up?  You’re the most important thing.  I don’t want to make things harder than they need to be.”

“You’re my dad,”  Owen said simply.  “No matter what happens.”

Tony looked up and smiled at him.  “You’re a smart kid, you know?”

Owen laughed.  “Yeah, I know.”

Over the next couple of months, things changed a lot.  You decided that moving out was a priority and you ended up finding a Brownstone near his school with decent security, a small yard and a private entrance via an underground garage that would mean going in and out of the front door would be unnecessary.

Tony had decided the best course of action was to back off while you both just get used to each other as parents of Owen and while you dealt with the awkwardness of the kiss and your reaction to it.

Outside the news of Tony’s illegitimate son just became public knowledge so you both just agreed that he should release a statement and ask that the press respect his and your privacy.  Not that they ever did.

Ever so slowly you moved on from the kiss and back into the functionally working family unit of two people raising a kid together.  It was better that way.

You did still like him though.  Not just like.  What had started as a crush and a daydream of the three of you as a family, started to become real love.  You loved him.  He was Owen’s dad.  He was the kid you grew up with.  But he was more than that.  You clicked.  He was Tony.  Your Tony.  You just worried that when you rejected him before you shut the door on the idea.  That maybe you’d ruined any chance of you ever being more.

You planned to move just after Owen’s birthday.  Tony was excited to hold a party at the tower and had gone completely overboard decorating the party deck and buying gifts.  He’d even invited all his friends as well as Owen’s.  The Avengers all ended up being mobbed by children.  None of them seemed to care at all.

“I seriously can’t believe you kept having a kid with Iron Man a secret.”  One of the parents said eyeing Tony as he helped one of the kids reload their Nerf Gun.  Her name was Melissa and you kind of hated her.  That was the problem with other parents.  You had to socialize with them whether you want to or not.  “I’d be advertising that everywhere.”  She continued.  “God, the things I would do with that man.”

You took the cake out of its box and put it on a tray.  It was large and elaborate and you weren’t quite sure why you hadn’t just let one of the staff deal with it.  Perhaps it was the force of habit.  “Well, he wasn’t Iron Man back then, so…”  You shrugged and went searching for the candles behind the bar.

“Was it good?  I bet he’s a huge dom.  Did he hold you down and just fuck the shit out of you?  Were there toys?”   She asked.

Your eyes went wide and you felt your face get hot and you weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or fury.

“He totally did, didn’t he?  I might try and see if he’d like to go a round or two with me.”  She continued before getting up and approaching Tony.  Your hands clenched and released as the anger seemed to build in you.  You watched as she approached him and sat down.  Her hand went to his knee and he laughed.  Whatever it was she just said, Tony thought it was hilarious and he laughed at it.

You dropped the candles on the counter and fled from the room, hiding in one of the maintenance closets as you breathed heavily and clutched at your chest.  You had thought you had your feelings for Tony in check again.  Was this jealousy or were you just disgusted by Melissa?  You paced the small space not sure what to do.

Tony knocked on the door and poked his head in.  “What are you doing in here, weirdo?  I thought we were going to do the cake.”

“Sorry.”  You said, shaking your head.  “Sorry.  I just… needed some space.”

Tony closed the door behind him and stepped cautiously towards you.  “Well you’re not going to get any in here, are you?  What happened?”

You shook your head again.  “That… that woman… and you… she…”  You babbled, trying to pull away from him.

He put his hands on your arms and looked into your eyes through the red lenses of his glasses.  “I’m not interested in anyone else here.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look up at him.  “She told me I should be boasting about having sex with you.”

He took off his glasses and cupped your jaw, stroking his thumb over your cheek.  “You should be,”  He teased.  “Look at me.”

You laughed, relaxing a little and raising your head to meet his eyes.  “She said she was going to try and pick you up.  She wanted to go a few rounds with you.”

Tony chuckled.  “Who doesn’t?”  He teased.  “But there is no one else I’m interested in.”  The emphasis he put on the world else caught your attention.  You tilted your head, leaning into his hand.

“Else?”

He nodded.  “You’re the only one I’m interested in.  I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

“You will?”  You asked.

“Yes.”

“You?  Wait?”

He chuckled.  “Yes.  Me.”

“But you’re Tony Stark.”

He laughed a little harder.  “I am aware of that, dear.”

“Tony?”  You breathed.  The sound of the party seemed far off and unimportant now.  “What about Owen?”

“Owen is my son.  I love him.  That’s not going to change.”  He said.  “I want you.  I want to try this.  Not because you're his mother.  Not because I think I should only have kids with one person.  I just want you.  You are beautiful and brave and smart.  I like being with you.  I want to try being an us.  I’ll wait until you see it too.  But I’m not fucking any other moms at this party in the meantime.  Okay?”

Your breath caught.  You weren’t even sure what to say.  You swallowed and nodded and he dropped his hand.  “You gonna come back to the party?”  He asked.

You took his hand in yours.  “Just as second.”  You said softly.

He looked at you and raised his eyebrow.  “You okay?”

You nodded and leaned up.  He closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours.  It’s brief and tender and something about it centers you.

“Later okay?”  He said, putting his glasses back on.  “Party first.”

You nodded.  “Okay.”

He kissed your forehead and headed back into the noise, you counted to three and followed after him.

// NEXT

[bebepac]

The Pink Lady

I am participating in @wackydrabbles prompt# 42 “Let’s be honest with ourselves, we knew this was going to happen” will appear in bold

Liam, Riley, Hana, and Maxwell all belong to Pixelberry.  All other characters are my own creation to support our story.  

This is the 7th Chapter of Fast Forward To catch up on Liam and Riley’s future Life please click 

Fast Forward

I wasn’t kidding when I said this story keeps taking turns on me, and it did yet another one.  I really can’t control this one.  There are some mentions of some things if you are not following  the Life of Riley  or  some of my wacky drabbles or one shots.  Mentioned in this fic:  Riley’s horrible driving, The Pink Lady Guitar, and Riley’s Accident.  To get more back ground on them check out Ride with Me (my very first fic i posted)  and Ghost Girl from the life of Riley, and January 18th  Links are :  

Ride With Me

Ghost Girl

January 18th

Song inspiration for this chapter:  When I Was your Man by Bruno Mars.  

https://youtu.be/ekzHIouo8Q4

I don’t own rights to any of the music or lyrics displayed.  

Summary:  Von stays at the palace per Riley’s request.   Riley spends the day at the private beach with friends with Von.  Von attends his first courtly event, as Riley’s guest and gives her a very special gift from her past.

Warnings:  Profanity, depression, sadness, domestic violence,  Angry Liam.... becomes Evil Liam.  This just went dark.  Sorry guys not my intent.

Word count: 2733

Tagging:  @queenjilian @dcbbw @burnsoslow @loveellamae @lovemychoices @bbrandy2002 @nomadics-stuff @kimmiedoo5 @cordonianroyalty @cordonia-gothqueen @lodberg @aestheticartwriting @glaimtruelovealways @custaroonie @texaskitten30 @janezillow @atha68 @my0123456789universe @kaitycole @indiacater @losingbraincellseveryday @yukinagato2012 @furiousherringoperatortoad @marietrinmimi @hopefulmoonobject @sevenfuckslefttogive @ac27dj @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @mrsdrakewalkerblog @islandcrow @xpandabeardontcarex  @axwalker @sanchita012 @queenwalton @flutistbyday2020 @gabesmommie1130  @mom2000aggie @queenaaliyah @jared2612​

"Maybe you can fool her with that you are on vacation bullshit. Cut the crap. I saw your little interview. What do you really think you can accomplish by coming here now Donovan?"

"I think the real question is, why are you so insecure with your relationship, that you are coming at me like this bro?"

"Because I feel something from you; the only reason you have come here is to try to take My Queen back with you. You do realize we have a family together right? Riley loves me and our children, and I love my wife."

"Then why is she not your equal?  The way you overrule her and talk over her.  I have seen you do it millions of times in press conferences.  You even did it to her today.  I asked Riley was she pregnant. I didn't ask you.  You answered for her, like she was incapable of answering for herself.  No wonder I've been hearing from her so much lately.  I feel like all you want is a pretty faced, pretty shaped Queen to give you heirs. Riley is more than that. She is not a trophy. You treat her like she's property. Probably the only reason you want another baby is to show someone that she's yours."

"SHE IS MINE! You are sadly mistaken if you think you are gonna swoop in and …."

"Look who's up?" Riley walked back into the room holding Jaiden bouncing him on her hip. He rubbed his eyes. Liam gave him a kiss on the forehead. "My baby boy."  Ellie and Adam followed behind her, looking inquisitively at the stranger standing before them. 

Von gave them a tiny wave. Adam waved. Ellie looked right at her father. Von could have sworn he saw Liam slightly shake his head "No." Ellie did not wave back. 

"Von, I'd like you to meet our children. Ellie, and Adam say hello."

Both children holding close to Riley's hips peer around her but only Adam said hello. 

"Ellie where are your manners? Say hello to Mommy's friend."

Ellie said nothing but ran across the room to Liam. 

He picked her up holding her in his arms. 

"I'm sorry Von, she's usually not shy. I don't know what's gotten into her."

"No it's okay."  He looked at Ellie. Of course he was training her to be just like him. She was the crown princess.  They both had the same look in their eyes, staring at Von, anger. 

"And this is Jaiden."  

Von remembered everything Riley had ever told him about  Jaiden. When Riley's memories came back she had told him about what happened with him that day during the accident.

"He would be so happy you named one of your sons after him."

"I think so too." Von softly touched Jaiden's cheek and  he giggled.  He grabbed Von's fingers holding them. 

These two were definitely Riley's children, that Riley had the primary influence over them.  Not Crown Princess A-hole that was looking down at him sneering just like her father. 

"Von do you have a place to stay? We have plenty of room you could stay with us. We could get…"

Liam cut her off  yet again. "I'm sure Donovan has made his own arrangements Riley, we shouldn't interfere.  He said he is in fact on vacation, he probably has a plan."

Riley laughed out loud. 

"Actually Liam not really. Riley, you know me so well. One of the things that is my fatal flaw that Riley loathed was my lack of planning. However, bucket list item #13 stay in a palace, so there you go!"

"We can get someone to bring in your stuff. I assume you rented a vehicle?" 

"I did, my stuff is in the car. 

"We can do something fun but low-key tomorrow because I'll have the kids. You don't mind that do you Von?"

"No not at all, it will be nice to get to know your kids."

"We will have a great time, I could even drive."

"NO!" Both Liam and Von screamed in unison. 

"So she's never been able to drive, these are not recent events from just not driving much?"

"LIAM!!!!"

"And I was there when she took driver's ed….three times."

Liam laughed, shaking his head at Riley.  "You're lucky, you're beautiful and charming."

"VON!!!! You gonna tell my business out on the street like that?"

"Mommy says snitches get stitches," Adam chimed in loudly.

"That's right, baby and Mommy's always right."

Von laughed out loud, "The New Yorker is strong in this one."

Von knew right then, if Riley ever left Liam, and he got another chance with Riley, he wouldn't have a problem loving adorable Jaiden and Adam as if they were his own kids. Liam would never let Riley take Ellie. She was too important to him. She was him.

Servants helped bring his items in but one box he wouldn't let out of his sight.  He held it carefully.  "It's a surprise," he said.

"Tomorrow we are having a small get together here in the ballroom.  Please say you will attend as my guest."

He nodded to Riley.  

The next morning after breakfast Riley security team took them to the beach. He noticed right away the way Riley's guard Nico was staring at her in her bathing suit. That's why Liam wanted another child. He's staking his claim on Riley. Liam was so transparent, at least in Von's eyes. 

But how did Riley truly feel? he wondered.

“Oh my God, I’m so glad you recommended this.  I’ve never been so relaxed in my life.   Who knew the thing I was missing from my life was a private beach.”  

Riley laughed.  “I feel the same way when I come here.   I think about all the times we went to the Island to go to the beach.  Do you remember?!? Shoulder to shoulder with people.”  

Inviting her friends also built in babysitters so that he could talk to Riley.  He had already noticed some things he was worried about.

He decided to just jump into it.

“Riley, is something bothering you?”

“I’m just fine.”  She said smiling.  A smile he saw didn’t reach Riley’s eyes.  He saw sadness.  He’d seen that type of sadness in her eyes before.  Riley. Was. Not. Fine.

He watched Riley when she didn’t think she was being watched.   She took a sip of her water and put it down.  He noticed her hands were shaking.  

Riley looked deep in thought.  

**** 10 months ago *** “We’ve tried multiple times to turn the baby, but it’s just not working.  The baby is still breech. Being so close to your due date Your Majesty. I think a C-section would be best.  

“Both Ellie and Adam I had naturally.  “Will there be scars?”  

“We’ll do our best to make them as minimal as possible.”

“And there’s no chance the baby will turn so Riley can deliver naturally?”

“There’s always a chance King Liam, but it looks highly unlikely at this point.  A C-section is the safest option for both mom and baby.”

Liam gently rubbed Riley’s large rounded stomach.  “Yes, we want them both to be safe.  Is there anything else Dr. Ramirez?”  

“That’s all I can think of, we’ll have you back next week, as we’re going to start weekly visits from here on out.”  

“I just had one more thing, Go ahead Liam  I’ll be out in one second.”

He walked out the door. Riley waited until he closed it behind him.  

She chuckled at Riley, “You would think it’s your first baby how nervous you look.”  

“Well,” Riley tried to make her voice sound as nonchalant as possible,”  Since we’re doing a c-section would it be possible to perform a tubal ligation while i’m open already?”

“Queen Riley, you have plenty of child bearing years left, if we do the procedure and you change your mind, we might not be able to reverse it.”

“I won’t be changing my mind, I want the procedure.”

“King Liam hasn’t mentioned anything of the sort.”

“It’s not King Liam’s body, It’s mine.”

Dr. Ramirez gave her a knowing look.  “Is it though?  I don’t feel comfortable performing such a procedure on the Queen of Cordonia without the King’s consent or knowledge. Is there anything else?”

“No, That about covers it,” Riley commented with a stiff smile, walking out the door.  

He watched Riley looking down at herself.  Her hand still shaking touched her stomach for  a moment.  

There were sad tears in Riley’s eyes.   He remembered yesterday when he asked Riley was she pregnant and the mortified look that crossed her face for a second, that Liam didn’t even notice.

Realization hit Von like a ton of bricks.

“Riley. Two things.. First…. Why haven’t you told Liam you’re pregnant, and Second, why aren’t you happy about it?  

"It wasn't always like this. I really think somewhere he loves me. He is a good father Von, but not so great a husband. Sometimes he's sweet, but Sometimes I feel like he forgets we're supposed to be ruling together and makes decisions for all of us like I don't matter. Ellie matters more to him than I do. He wanted more children, so I've given him more children.  I've done and given him everything he asks of me, and at the end of the day, he doesn't take me seriously. I'm not enough. He's the ruling monarch with royal blood. No matter how much I give him it's never enough Von."

"You're enough for the right person Riley. You're enough for me."

Von took her hand in his. She quickly pulled away.

"Please stop. I can't take any more complications than I have right now."

On the way back they stopped with Maxwell to get Von a nice suit. Von saw immediately that Riley was his best friend by the way they talked. He liked Maxwell right away too. He reminded him a little of Daniel.

He sat at the dinner with Maxwell and Hana, they both were her best friends . They talked and laughed with him like they were old friends. He noticed Riley watching them from her dais as she sat next to Liam in their matching thrones.

She made her way over to him "Are you guys having fun?"

"Lots of fun Little Blossom, can we keep him?"

Von chuckled, "Maxwell you're hilarious. And how many stories does this guy have about peacocks?"

Riley let out a deep belly laugh, "He has millions. I've yet to hear the same peacock story twice."

"So Liam wanted me to ask you something, would you be willing to do a song for us, to open up the social part of the evening? I know you're on vacation."

Was this dude really this stupid? He was about to light a fire in this place, and in Riley.

"I'll do it for you, but I need to get something first."

He came back shortly with the same box he had been so protective over. He whispered something to Hana and she nodded.  Riley introduced him when he was ready.

He stood up. "Thank you for that lovely welcome Queen Riley. We grew up together in New York.  And she doesn't know that I spent the last 3 years looking for this, and just found it two weeks ago. This was part of the reason I'm here is to return it to its rightful owner. He opened the box revealing Riley's pink lady guitar. He walked closer so she could see it.

She jumped up out of her throne, gasping. Liam grabbed her arm. She slowly sat back down into her throne.

"I know what you're thinking. When I went to my fans to help me find it, I left one detail about The Pink Lady off the information.  After a few false alarms, Someone messaged me about this one. I just asked them one simple question, was there anything unique about it? They told me yes, on the back there initials engraved in the wood RB and DJ."  

Liam looked at the tears in her eyes in confusion.

"My Dad bought me that guitar. You know I lost almost everything I owned after the accident.  I could never find it, I looked for it, every chance I got."

When he handed it over to her she quickly checked the back.  She remembered her and Von engraving their initials after she played her first song she had ever written for him. She closed her eyes, also remembering walking around the store with her Dad, finding it for the first time.  She opened her eyes again looking at Von.

He smiled. "You'll never guess where it was.  In California. Thirty minutes from where I live."

"Hana if you would."

Hana sat at the piano playing for him. When he started the second verse, of the song,  Von's eyes met Riley's, and they never left hers.

My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made, oh And it haunts me every time I close my eyes

It all just sounds like ooh, ooh ooh ooh ooh Mm, too young, too dumb to realize That I should have bought you flowers And held your hand Should have gave you all my hours When I had the chance Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

Now my baby's dancing But she's dancing with another man

Although it hurts I'll be the first to say that I was wrong Oh, I know I'm probably much too late To try and apologize for my mistakes But I just want you to know

I hope he buys you flowers I hope he holds your hand Give you all his hours When he has the chance Take you to every party 'Cause I remember how much you loved to dance Do all the things I should have done When I was your man Do all the things I should have done When I was your man

The crowd roared in applause.  

"Riley, play something for your people."

"That won't be necessary," Liam interjected.

Riley ignored him and had gotten up putting the strap over her shoulder.  

"I'm a little rusty, so hopefully it will sound okay.  This has always been my favorite song since the first time I heard it."

When Riley played the first few chords,  Von knew what she was playing.  She was playing their song. Playing it for him.

Liam recognized it right away too.  She could feel Liam's anger  radiating off him.

When the song was over everyone was cheering for Riley.  Liam excused them. Von saw how he gripped Riley's arm as they walked out the ballroom, and he didn't like it.  He followed them. As he got closer to the door. He heard Liam's voice full of anger. "HOW DARE YOU EMBARRASS ME LIKE THAT!"

Then he heard an unmistakable sound. He slapped  Riley.

Von pushed the door open seeing Riley in tears holding her face.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING MAN?!? DID YOU JUST HIT HER?!?!?"

"Von please go," Riley pleaded. "You'll  just make it worse."

"Riley you don't have to take this from him. Is this how you treat the mother of your children?!?!?"

"I will treat her however I please."

He yanked the guitar from Riley grip, holding it in the air.

"Please don't Liam. Please, I'm sorry Liam. PLEASE DON'T!!!!"

Liam ignored her. He slammed it hard to the ground, shattering it.

Riley fell to her knees bursting into tears. "This wasn't about him Liam, My father gave me this, and YOU RUINED IT!!!!!!! WHY?????"

"Maybe now you will think twice about sharing looks of lust for another man so blatantly in front of your King and His People."

He stood  towering over them. Von's grip tightened around Riley as to protect her.

"Let's be honest with ourselves, we knew this was going to happen."

He stared down at Riley on the floor crying, shaking. Von held her in his arms, her back against his chest. Von was staring at Liam in pure disgust.

"I'm sure you know you're not welcome in the royal chambers tonight, unless you're ready to do whatever your King desires you to do for you to be forgiven. Otherwise, find alternate sleeping arrangements."

Liam walked out the room, the door slamming behind him.

“

[cyb-by-lang]

The Callout

Since I totally forgot to ever do anything for @writer-and-artist27 in response to all the art she’s sent me over the last few months, I decided winter was a good time to work on something really quick. Thus, a one-day gift fic.

Especially something that encourages my preferred The Sea and Stars ‘ship. :p

This takes place in The Sea and Stars, a crossover with CYB and Civilian Pianist, wherein a whole buncha people are not dead and there’s more than one SIOC running around.

In terms of ships and romance arcs, this is quite possibly one of the most ironic things Kei has ever participated in.

It was a sunny December day in Konoha when Obito Uchiha pounded on my front door. Normally, this wasn’t much of an issue. I kept snacks in the house for exactly this reason. It encouraged my and Hayate’s friends to visit through the expectation of food. Teenagers were a little like vultures that way. Mom only had to help me with the fiddliest parts of candy-making. 

“Kei, come on!” Obito shouted from the front step of the house. His voice drifted in through the open window. “I know you’re not busy!”

The fact that he was correct did not, in fact, make my mood lift. 

I sighed inwardly and went to the door, opening it just in time to almost catch Obito’s knocking hand with my nose. Luckily, he stopped in time. “Whoa, okay,” I said while he overbalanced just a bit. As he recovered, I followed up with, “What the hell is going on?” 

“Um.” Obito stuffed his hands into his pockets, suddenly shy when confronted by my grumpy face. “Can we talk inside? You’re our team’s medic, so…”

I looked Obito up and down. To my chakra sense, his internal flame bobbed uncertainly as though in a high wind. Behind his goggles, his expression was a mix of nervous and potentially nauseous, with the thinnest sheen of sweat over his face. His collar was loose, as though he’d fussed with it, and he shifted from foot to foot like he’d burned them. 

I stepped back from the door and ushered him inside. He was so discombobulated that he almost forgot to take off his shoes before making his way to the living room. He shed his jacket before crawling under the kotatsu like some kind of worm. Maybe a bear cub in search of a hiding spot. 

“Is someone here?” Mom called, from all the way across the house. She’d been carefully pruning a potted indoor rose in the kitchen when I wandered off to put out fires. 

“It’s just me!” Obito replied from his heater blanket spot. 

I sat down on the next corner and stuck my legs underneath the quilt. 

“Obito-kun?” Mom stuck her head out of the kitchen, expression full of concern. Her gardening scissors were still in one hand. Obito was well within her sensing range, and she was more precise than me. She was basically capable of reading minds. 

“I can handle it,” I said to Mom, to keep Obito from having to lie to her. I, for my part, didn’t know I was lying. Couldn’t, since I didn’t know what the problem was. 

Mom subsided, though she wasn’t convinced. She retreated with a mild, “Don’t mind me, then. Food’s on the stove.”

And on the table. Like any self-respecting traditional home, we had oranges on the kotatsu to stave off colds and scurvy. And dorayaki, because I’d been assembling them when Obito popped by. The stack of small pancakes were kind of hard to miss. 

Obito wiggled a bit out from under the table to inspect the sugar on display. 

“So,” I said, as he snatched one of the finished treats from the pile. “What’s eating you?” 

“Eh?” Obito managed, around a mouthful of pancake. He chewed quickly, then swallowed. There were crumbs around his mouth. “Um, sorta. Like a medical thingy.”

“And you’re not going to Rin about this?” I asked.

“I tried,” Obito said, pouting. “But she’s busy with her medic training stuff right now, so I came here instead.” 

Well, at least being second fiddle to Rin in terms of medical expertise was pretty common. And if Obito wasn’t comfortable heading to the hospital, that was pretty much my role in life at large. 

“It’s really freaking me out,” Obito said, even as he picked another dorayaki from the pile. “Kei, I think it’s got something to do with Tomo-chan.” 

“With Tomo?” I stared at him, even as my hands kept up the dorayaki assembly procedure. Red bean paste, custard cream, chocolate (originally received as a gift from Tomoko), and then chestnuts. In that order. Variety was key. “What, like she’s poisoning you?” 

Obito snorted. If he’d been chomping through dorayaki as fast as I was making them, crumbs would’ve flown out of his nose. “I’d sooner accuse you. Tomo-chan doesn’t have a mean bone in her whole body.” 

Accurate. “So, what are your symptoms?”

“Not even gonna defend yourself?” Obito asked, hiding a grin under pretend offense.

I shrugged. Instead, I pointed the spatula I was using in Obito’s face like a sword and said, “Spill, or I can’t help you.” 

“Um…” Obito squirmed under my gaze. Sitting up, he could hardly avoid my scrutiny unless he was planning on hiding under the quilt like a five-year-old. And he’d be well within kicking range then. 

“Obito,” I said with thinning patience.

“Hey, don’t rush me!” Obito protested, when I made a stabbing motion with the spatula. A little under his breath, he grumbled, “Tomo-chan doesn’t threaten me when I hang around her.”

“And yet you’re here,” I shot back. While Obito mumbled and kept refusing to talk, I settled back into my rhythm of assembling pancake sandwiches. Which was basically what dorayaki were. In a calmer voice, I said, “Seriously, what’s the story?”

“So…” Obito curled a little in on himself, slumped across the tabletop. With his head pillowed by his arms and the plate of dorayaki in front of him, he focused on the sweets instead of meeting my eyes, even through goggles. “You know I’ve been spending more time over at the café, right?” 

I nodded. There were basically four places that Obito frequented, besides his apartment in the Uchiha district. One was my house, because my family had gotten as close to adopting him as non-clan shinobi could over the years. Aside from the training grounds and Sensei’s house, the main other refuge for Obito was the Hoshino-run hotspot in the middle of town. And since Sensei was on a mission and there were no scheduled team training sessions for the month, Obito spent a lot of time at the Nagareboshi Café.

“So, the trouble started there?” I prompted, since he’d fallen silent to let me think. Or let himself think. Either-or. 

“Kinda?” 

I nudged the plate closer to his nose.

“You’re awful,” said Obito, but bit one in half anyway. After swallowing, he explained, “Do you ever see people you know in your dreams?”

I didn’t exactly dream normally, but I definitely experienced something like that. “Yep. Why?”

“So do I, basically all the time.” Obito dropped his chin to the table again, half a dorayaki in his hand. “Like, sometimes Kakashi gets his ass kicked by like a talking marshmallow or something. Or I dream about finding cats, or like sometimes I’m looking out onto a river when the water keeps going up past my feet and I can’t run.” 

“Pretty sure that last one’s a nightmare,” I said. 

“Yeah, probably.” Obito cleared his throat. “And like, uh, sometimes the dreams are less super weird and more, uh… not.” 

I kicked him under the table.

“Ow! Kei, I’m getting to it.” 

“You’re circling the drain,” I told him. 

“Sheesh, see if I ever tell you secrets again,” he griped. “Kakashi’d at least just make fun of me once.” 

I waited. 

“Okay, okay, I wouldn’t cut you off like that,” Obito admitted. He sighed mightily, making me raise both of my eyebrows. That was certainly odd for a teenage boy on as much sugar as he’d just consumed. “You know how I was nervous coming here? Like, I can feel myself just break out into a sweat when I’m anywhere near Tomo-chan.”

“You don’t say,” I told him flatly.

Obito pretended I hadn’t just decided to be sardonic at him. “And lately, I’ve been having these weird thoughts. And they’ve been crossing over into dreams.” 

I assembled more dorayaki and gestured for him to continue. 

“You know how Tomo-chan hugs…basically everybody?” 

Having owned the title of “most frequent recipient of Tomoko hugs” five years running, I nodded. “Hard to miss.” 

“Right.” His face turned faintly pink. “I’m making it weird, I think.” 

“Weird how?” I asked, though the hamster wheel in the back of my head was starting to turn. “Has she been doing it differently?” 

“No, it’s more like…” Obito stared down at the table. After a second or two, he pried his goggles from over his eyes and placed them atop his headband’s metal plate, rubbing at the marks it left in his face. “It’s like… She’s really warm.”

Well, duh. 

“And, uh…” The tips of Obito’s ears reddened, too. “She’s soft, so when she hugs me, I don’t…really want to let go? But I have to when she does, or else it’s weird. And I guess I’m noticing more when she sticks her face here.” He rubbed awkwardly at where his neck met his shoulder, as though feeling phantom sensation. “And when she does, I can’t help but just want to hang on so it doesn’t end so fast, and then the first thing happens again.” 

I resisted the urge to reintroduce my palm to my forehead with a loud smack. Because this? This was getting into the kind of territory that I’d never been completely comfortable with. 

Teenage crushes. 

Joy of fucking joys.

Still, because I was the big sister friend, I said, “So, how long has this been going on?”

“Um, a couple weeks.” Obito met my gaze. “At first, I figured I was just allergic to something and needed to figure out what.” 

“That clearly didn’t pan out,” I said. 

“Well, it was pretty obvious it wasn’t gonna once the dreams kicked in.” Obito made a face. “I mean, I’ve had…” 

“Weird dreams?” I filled in, my voice still dry.

“Yeah,” Obito mumbled. He’d managed to push the blush away, but now it was back with a vengeance. “I, uh, don’t get them about Rin anymore. And I thought…” His hands wrung together. 

“Obito, the only person who doesn’t know about your huge crush on Rin is Rin.” Well. Actually… “Unless it’s gone now?”

“I mean, I still like Rin,” Obito said immediately, almost frantic. “But—But maybe not the same way?” His voice dropped into a whisper as he ducked his head. “I mean, I don’t get all weird around Rin anymore, do I?”

“You’ve followed Rin around like a puppy since I’ve known you,” I said, setting the spatula aside. I planted my elbow on the table and leaned on it, tilting my head to try and peer at his face. “Like, you couldn’t’ve made it more obvious if you ran around wearing a shirt that said ‘Obito Loves Rin’ on the front and ‘I’m Obito’ on the back. You’re not gonna be any less obvious if the crush latches onto Tomo instead.”

Obito made a funny gurgling noise in the back of his throat. 

I heroically resisted the urge to grab Obito’s goggles, pull, and let them snap back onto his head with enough force to bowl him ass over teakettle backwards. He didn’t get to escape this conversation by melting into goo after having dragged me into it.

“She’s my friend.” Obito’s voice was more a wail than anything. Just quiet and muffled by the table. “I’m making it weird and I can’t make it stop!” Miserably, he added, “Maybe it’s because like…some part of me doesn’t want it to, and I can’t make that stop either.” 

I considered the embarrassed ball of whining teenager my mostly-brother had turned into. “So… We’ve successfully figured out that you have a huge crush on Tomo. And that you totally lied to me about not being able to go to Rin.” 

Obito didn’t protest. 

“What are you going to do about it?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“The whole ‘hold my feelings in until I die of old age or Rin’s crush on Kakashi wears off’ method didn’t work for the last one,” I pointed out. It cut very close to an unpleasant potential future I didn’t want to think about, but maybe making a joke of it would take the edge off. “Might wanna try something different for this.”

“Your advice sucks,” Obito said, glaring at me.

“Tomo wouldn’t notice your crush unless you asked to kiss her,” I went on, fairly mercilessly. “Do you want to?” 

Obito more resembled a tomato than a shinobi. “Kei!” 

“That’s not a ‘no,’” I said. 

“No, it’s not a ‘no,’ but you can’t just ask someone that!” 

“Why not?” 

“You just can’t!” 

“That’s not a reason,” I said, crossing my arms.

Obito jerked his head away, visibly biting his lip. His flush faded quickly this time.

“What is it?” I asked.

“We were both there when she talked about Tai,” Obito said finally, and my stomach sank a little at the name. 

I’d decided if I ever got my hands on Tomoko’s shitty former friend, I’d rip his hair out by the roots. In the meantime, speaking the name of that person felt like admitting there was a chance I wouldn’t be violent. 

Obito apparently didn’t believe in unpersoning someone and letting the memory die a cold, lonely death.

“I-I can’t break her heart like he did.” Obito’s earnest expression was a little heartbreaking. “I just can’t.”

“Do you think you’re going to?” I asked.

“Well, I mean, Tai hurt her without knowing. I can’t know if I don’t know, you know?” Obito talked in circles when uncertain, like it put off the answer until a time when he wouldn’t be on the spot. 

No such luck for him. “The guy used Tomo as a punching bag. You have the basic capacity to ask people what’s wrong and change your behavior to avoid hurting people.” If there was a thread of vibrating rage cutting through my words, Obito likely didn’t hear it. “Don’t compare yourself to that scumbag.” 

“He was Tomo-chan’s friend first, though. And that’s a—” 

“Hey,” I interrupted. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” 

“No?”

“Or Tomo? Or Kakashi or Rin?” I rattled off, faster. 

“No!” Obito looked offended on my behalf. “Who’s saying stuff like that?” 

I sliced through the air between us with one hand, silencing him. “Obito, you aren’t him. If you can’t trust yourself to be considerate, that’s one thing, but this isn’t even you talking. You’re letting fear run away with you.” 

“Tomo-chan deserves better than—” 

I grabbed Obito’s dorayaki out of his hand.

“Hey!” 

“You don’t get this back until you stop talking like that,” I informed him. “Don’t even think you’re faster than me.” 

“You’re just saying that because I don’t have my Sharingan yet!” 

And he would, eventually. But that wasn’t now. 

“And since you don’t, you’re just gonna have to listen to me,” I said, gesturing with the half-a-pancake. While he glared at me, I asked, “Do you like Tomo?” 

“You know I do,” Obito snapped. 

“Do you ever want to hurt her feelings?” 

“Of course not!” 

Well, then maybe he’d forgive me for being rather rough with his right now. It was the angriest friend pep-talk I’d given in my life, and it was still in progress. “Then what do you want to do? You, not that asshole’s whiny ghost.” 

“I—” Obito hesitated. He lost steam.

“You aren’t him.” I dropped the dorayaki back on the plate. “You’re Obito.” 

“I…” Obito swallowed, as though his mouth was suddenly dry. “I want to hold her hand. I want to hug her. I just… I hope she’s happy with me around.” 

It wasn’t like Obito could read chakra yet, but… “Believe me, she is.” 

Obito huffed a laugh. “You’d know, I guess.” 

More or less. “Do you want to help her be happy?” 

“I do.” Obito knew that for sure, at least. “I just don’t know how to…do that. I think all I do is scare her.” 

I mean, your potential scares the hell outta me, but that’s not exactly the point, I thought. “What Tomo’s scared of is people getting hurt. You definitely included. Which, given our jobs, is kinda part of the package.” 

Leaving aside the question of foreknowledge, shinobi life was genuinely dangerous. Tomoko knew damn well that people around her could get hurt or killed without any chance for her to weigh in until the crisis was over. If she couldn’t accept that, Tomoko would’ve kept her head down from the start. 

“You can’t control stuff like that,” I said, after a bit of a pause. I leaned forward on my elbows. “But you can control your own actions. Again, what do you want to do?” 

Obito’s gaze darted around. “You’re sure I can’t just not say anything…?” 

“Oh, you could do that. It just didn’t work the first time,” I said lightly. “So, pick your poison.” 

“You suck,” Obito complained. “How the hell did I get stuck with such a jerk for a best friend?”

“Oh, like I’m the one who’s making your life difficult right now. That’s all you.” 

Obito blew out a frustrated breath. “So like…if I wanted to tell her, then, what do you think I should do?” 

I shrugged. “Something totally not subtle at all.” 

“Sensei says I don’t know what ‘subtle’ is,” said Obito, “but you’re the one who keeps trying to use explosive tags in sparring matches.”

Pff, whatever. I hadn’t gotten close to actually tagging Sensei yet. “Don’t turn this back on me.” I drummed my fingers on the table. Without apparently noticing, Obito did much the same on his arm as we thought. Finally, I said, “If you’re gonna do this confession thing, you have to make it absolutely clear. Tomo throws around ‘I love you’ hard enough to concuss bystanders, so just throwing her phrasing back is gonna get you nowhere. Like, make it really clear.” 

Obito buried his face in his hands. “Why did I come here for advice?” 

“Because I know Tomo better than anybody ‘cept maybe her parents?” And her split personality fragment. Without letting him respond, I said, “You might have to try more than once. But I swear, if you let her leave with some kinda goofy misunderstanding, I’ll throw these things at you until you fix it.” I pointed at the dorayaki, then crossed my arms with an even more stubborn air. “I am not putting up with unresolved crush drama.” 

“Should I just get a bunch of roses?” Obito asked, half-sarcastically. He measured what’d probably be a solid two-dozen blooms in a bouquet, if he hadn’t just been holding empty air. “Maybe then she’d get it?” 

“If they’re red, probably?” I wasn’t exactly a member of the hanakotoba club or anything, but I did know that different flowers had different meanings. And that Tomoko would read anything as platonic if at all possible. 

“And if I yell ‘I’m in love with you!’ in public?” Obito went on, now apparently finding his footing. 

“You say that, but she got up in the middle of the stands and said pretty much the same thing during the Chūnin Exams, while waving a huge flag.” 

“Oh shit. I forgot for a second.” Obito’s blush was back.

“Like I said. Do not leave room for interpretation. Or misinterpretation.” I finally reached out and patted his shoulder. “Good fucking luck, man.” 

Obito groaned. “Now that you’ve said it, I know I’m gonna need it.” 

“You two had better not include cursing in your master plan,” said Mom from the kitchen. Like she hadn’t been there the whole time, listening to our ongoing drama. She stuck her head around the corner again. “Tomoko-chan deserves better than that.” 

I gesticulated with both hands and a spatula. “But does she deserve better than Obito?”

Mom looked Obito up and down like I had, and he looked like he wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. 

“You suit each other just fine,” said Mom. 

“That’s what I said!” I pumped an arm in victory.

“I can’t take much more of this.” Obito still accepted the pile of dorayaki when I shoved them at him again. “Why is being in love so stressful?” 

“Dunno. But hey.” I patted his shoulder a little more gently this time. “You’ll be cute together.” 

“Please shut up.”

“Never.”

--------

The promised day was really just about a week later, because finding roses in winter was more annoying than it really had to be. We talked to Kakashi about it, got nowhere, and then went to Kushina in desperation when he told us to basically fuck off and leave him alone.

She pointed us at the Yamanaka clan, because she had most of her shit in order. 

Then.

The day.

Arrived.

It was like watching a slow motion train wreck in the middle of Nagareboshi Café.

And Obito tried.

“Tomo-chan,” he began, hiding the bouquet with little success behind his back. “I—I love you.” 

Kakashi rolled his eyes. 

I sighed through my nose.

“I love you too, Obi!” Tomoko said, because of course she did. It didn’t take a Hyuga to notice that the words hadn’t sunk in properly, merely being interpreted as another sign of friendship. “I’m really glad we’re friends.” 

“Ouch,” said Kakashi, inaudible to the goofball couple.

I twitched with the urge to kick him under the table, but too many parents were in the immediate area. I’d probably get yelled at almost instantly. 

“So, um, I got you this bouquet…” Obito trailed off a little uncertainly. “To, um, thank you for everything.” 

Kakashi looked like he shared the urge to facepalm. Obito had lost the thread a little.

Our observation wasn’t all that subtle by shinobi standards, but Tomoko didn’t exactly know that we were here for a specific event. She just figured we showed up for the free food, which was fair. 

At least her focus was still on Obito.

“This is painful,” my dad muttered, only to be elbowed from both sides by my mom and my brother. “Ow!” 

Tomoko’s expression lit up. “They’re beautiful. I think there’s a vase to put them right… here…” 

“They’re red roses,” Obito said, with the slightest tinge of desperation for her to get the message.

“Yeah, th—” Tomoko froze mid-word like a badly buffering video. “O-Obi? This is—um—eh?” Her voice pitched upward, tossed in wild waves of stammering emotion, as her big blue eyes locked directly on Obito’s crimson face. “Eh?!”

“I, um…” Obito and Tomoko at least matched. Any redder and cars would treat them like traffic lights. 

If there were any cars around here, anyway.

“Wh-when I say ‘I love you,’ I mean I’m in love with y-you,” Obito said. “In c-case that wasn’t clear!” 

Tomoko squeaked. “I—Obi?!”

“He thinks you’re super cute!” Dad yelled from the back of the shop, before Hayate hissed at him to stop helping.

“B-but—” She sounded one step short of hyperventilating, so I started to slide out of my seat. Maybe I’d be needed, medically. Like, for once in this entire sequence of events.

Kakashi stopped me immediately. 

Better let the kids sort it out.

“Ohgod,” Tomoko said frantically, “I—I—I thought you liked Rin?!”   

Oh, great. I could feel Obito’s chakra flicker uncertainly. Way to shoot yourself in the foot, both of you. 

Tomoko’s feelings weren’t difficult to parse out. There was a little happy balloon in the middle of a whole rat’s nest of sharpened punji stakes. It drifted close to popping itself on such insecurities as “canon compliance” and “but he’s not into me” any direction it turned.

“Not me,” she half-mumbled, only a short hop from denial to the dangerous zone of actually hurting Obito. “Wh-why me? I-I mean—”

Not even Tomoko could miss the way Obito’s face fell, even as he gently took her bouquet-occupied hands in his. 

“I-I mean, I’m honored—b-but I—” Her head jerked away from his face and toward the piano. She vented all of her feelings through ninshu, so not having the release valve was probably making her even more nervous. “A-are you sure? About me?” 

“I’m sure about me,” Obito said, his voice a little faint. “B-but now I’m less sure about y-your feelings.”

“D-don’t be!” 

“This is actually, legitimately painful,” Kakashi muttered. 

I thought that over and decided I agreed. Sheesh, the secondhand embarrassment was thick enough to cut. It was gonna fall and smother the lot of us. “At least it’s not you over there, right?” 

Kakashi snorted, his chakra buzzing with the agitation of someone trapped in a social situation ANBU would kill to escape. 

Tomoko let out a hiccup. Though she was careful not to squeeze the bouquet too hard in case there were thorns hidden somewhere, she gripped Obito’s hands back with enough force that their knuckles went simultaneously white. 

Hope buoyed Obito’s chakra. “T-Tomo-chan…” 

“I-I do like you, Obi. I just don’t know how much I do compared to you.” While Tomoko spoke in her sincere way, I made a mental note to buy a spray bottle. She needed some kind of way to discourage negative self-talk, but now wasn’t the time. “But, um, I’m willing to find out more with you by my side.” Her voice tilted upward, not quite a question. “If that’s okay?”

“Definitely.” Obito beamed.

Tomoko matched that smile. 

[aphtoris]

Sparks ✨

Happy Holidays everyone!!! This fic is a Secret Santa gift for the very lovely, @the-disaster-tiefling !!! I hope you enjoy!!

[[MORE]]

The sparks started to fly when Bickslow was just twelve years old. He saw a boy in the corner of the guild, literal walls of ancient text boxing him in while he silently read. Though when he saw the rather annoyed look on his face, as he watched the chaos that was the Fairy Tail guild hall, Bickslow could tell he wasn’t boxed in. He shut everyone else out.

That just made him want to find out more about this mysterious kid, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. Closed tight books were always the most fun to read.

“Hey! Hey you!” He called out, banging on the wall of runes. He pressed his face to the wall, a tingling buzz spreading throughout his body. This was such an interesting form of magic. Bickslow has only ever seen Magic Counsel soldiers use rune magic, but this boy’s way of using it felt different. It already felt raw, like there was more lurking beneath the surface.

He was surprised when the boy actually closed his book to give him a glance. “You know, when someone is closed off like this, it means they generally want to be left alone.” The boy said. His way of talking was so eloquent. Words poured from his mouth like every single one was important. Bickslow just grinned wider at him.

“Hey, closed books are the most interesting to read.” He stared, sitting down, as if he were getting comfortable. He wasn’t planning on moving for a while. “So are you gonna tell me your name, or am I gonna have to go to Makarov for your life story?” He teased. “The name’s Bickslow!”

The boy sighed, as if he already knew he wasn’t getting out of this. “Freed. Freed Justine. No need to be so chummy. I don’t plan on making friends here. This is a place for me to earn money. Nothing more.” Freed said, already opening up his book. He seemed surprised when Bickslow rest his back against the runes.

“Well it’s too bad for you! This spot is pretty comfy. I might just stay here for a while!” He teased. Freed made no effort to move the Seith mage, deciding he wasn’t being too much of a bother.

————

The sparks fanned into flames as the two aged into their teen years. It took a bit of worming in on Bickslow’s part, but there came a point where Bickslow could call Freed one of his closest companions. They went on jobs all the time together, and even decided to share a room at the men’s dormitory to save money. Sure they had their spats, but they seemed inseparable, even after Evergreen joined their very small circle.

“I have an announcement.” Freed said softly to the two of them after coming home late from a job.

“Ugh, it’s not another boring job is it? Come on Freed, you gotta start picking some exciting work!”

“It’s nothing like that.” He said, trying not to seem offended that Evergreen apparently disliked the jobs they were working on. “I spoke with Makarov recently.” He admitted.

“Oh? What’d the old geezer say? We ain’t in trouble are we?” Bickslow asked, pouting. They had already gotten a stern talking to recently for supposedly “going too far” on a bunch of thugs.

“No, it’s not that either. He brought up Laxus. He...asked me to keep an eye out for him. Keep him safe. I think we should make a more formal team, to aid him.” Freed states, seeming oddly apprehensive.

One would think of it as Freed seeming nervous for such a large task. But Bickslow knew better. Those were nerves from Freed’s crush on Laxus. He remembered prying the information from Freed late one night, hoping Freed’s recent distractedness was because of him.

Bickslow feels the flame start to grow dim.

————

The flame is drenched in water the night Laxus leaves the guild.

They all took it hard, Bickslow had thought. He had been angry that Makarov chose to only banish Laxus and not all four of them for their treachery. Evergreen had cried as their friend and idol left.

Freed seemed unmoved. Saying only “we’ll see him again one day”. He seemed oddly optimistic for someone who considered himself so close to Laxus.

The three of them decided to forgo attending the Fantasia parade, deciding it would probably look pretty bad on Makarov’s part if the three mages who participated in a mutiny were also in the parade.

Evergreen had locked herself in her room. Bickslow has visited a bar outside of town. Freed...didn’t say where he was going to be. And that worried Bickslow. He knew Freed was independent but the fact that he seemed so unaffected by Laxus leaving seemed off.

He decided to pay the other a visit, rapping his hand against the door to Freed’s room. They had long since switched to single dorm rooms, since they started making more money attending S-Class missions with Laxus.

“Yo. Yo Freed, you in there?” He asked. He peeked up when he heard a faint buzzing coming from Freed’s room. He placed his hand on the doorknob, and twisted. The room was unlocked.

Bickslow let himself in, the buzzing growing louder, and the door to Freed’s personal bathroom slightly ajar.

Long locks of bright green hair lay on the floor of the bathroom, so long they fell outside the room. Freed leaned against the bathroom counter, eyes red and raw from previous tears. A buzz cutter lay on the counter.

Freed slowly turned to face Bickslow who now realized Freed was taking Laxus’ banishment much harder than he let on. He was never good at expressing his emotions or helping others out with theirs. None of them were really. But his body seemed to move on it’s own as he walked into the bathroom, and pulled Freed into an embrace. He could feel the pangs in his heart as Freed seemed to hold on for dear life, shoulders wracking with each soft sob.

Now that Bickslow thought about it, he had never seen Freed cry before.

————

The sparks start to flicker again, as they all rediscover themselves. Freed starts smiling again and has become less closed off. He’s apprehensive about making new friends, but has found some in Levy, Lucy and even Mirajane. Lucy even uses one of her spirits to restore his hair once he’s moved on.

Bickslow knew Freed might never move on. The pain still hurts, and he and Evergreen are also still trying to find out the best way to approach their new selves in the guild. But Freed seems happier. They all do.

Freed jokes with him more, and they stay up late together again. It feels just like when they were kids.

Bickslow is elated when Freed asks him to help carry him to S-Class status, knowing for sure no one else can match up to Freed.

After all, Freed is cunning, decisive, unafraid, so charming and—

Bickslow stops that train of thought before it can get rolling. Before the fire consumes him and it can’t be put out.

————

The flame starts to die because they’re both at the brink of death.

Acnologia appeared out of nowhere before all of them, and they threw their all at him. Fought tooth and nail. And none of it was enough.

Freed and Levy frantically decided their best bet was to try and make a magic circle to protect them all. Bickslow has never seen Freed so afraid in his life.

Natsu has the bright idea for them all to hold hands to help make their friends stronger. Lucy takes Natsu’s hand, Exceed’s taking each other’s hands.

Freed stands next to him, frantically working on his spell.

Bickslow takes hand and squeezes it tight. He feels a tear slip down his cheek when he feels Freed squeeze his hand back in a vice-like grip.

Bickslow hates that this is the moment he realizes he could never live without Freed.

All Bickslow can do is try to smile through his tears, and try to help Freed see that everything’s going to be okay.

The flame stays quiet and stagnant for seven long years

————

The flame only seems to grow stronger. It’s also harder for Bickslow to try and snuff out.

So much had already happened since they came back to the land of the living, and the Grand Magic Games had been a whirlwind of adventure and meeting new people.

Dressed in horrid clothes given to them by the kingdom, Bickslow mingled with other mages at the gala. He was less closed off than Freed and even Evergreen, so it was easy to become the life of the party.

When the band started to play music, Bickslow rested against the wall, watching the other mages dance. Some were way better than others, like Erza and Kagura. Others could have practice a little as he snickered while watching Elfman and Evergreen struggle to even make eye contact while dancing.

“I’m surprised you’re not out there with them.” He heard. He turned and saw Freed offering him a glass of champagne. He thought that only Freed could make these ugly clothes still look good, his long hair pulled back for once in a low ponytail.

“Eh, this formal dancing isn’t my style. I’m surprised you’re not out there either. Thought this stuff was more your speed?” He asked, taking the glass from Freed and taking a sip. Maybe a bit of alcohol would keep his mind off of how good Freed looked tonight.

“I thought about it. Though my last offer for a dance was rejected. I thought I might sit this song out.” He stated. A smile was on Freed’s lips but it felt fake. He seemed disappointed.

Bickslow would blame his extra bout of boldness on the tiny sip of alcohol he consumed and offered his hand out to Freed’s.

“Well, I don’t know who was rude enough to deny you a dance. But I’ll dance with you if you want.” Bickslow offered. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so nervous. It was just Freed. It should be fine.

The more natural smile that melted onto Freed’s face was pure magic. As Freed slowly his hand into Bickslow’s, he gave the taller mage’s hand a soft squeeze.

There was no way Bickslow could dose the flame now.

————

The flame is almost impossible to control now.

Too many close calls must be a sign to Bickslow that he needs to say something before it’s too late. Tempester almost kills their team and Laxus, making them all so sick they can hardly move. He would have confessed how he felt to Freed in his deathbed, if he even had the strength to talk. He could barely even turn his head to look at the other. Freed had beared the brunt of the attack right after Laxus, using the last of his strength to save all their sorry asses.

He can hear Freed struggling to breathe in the bed beside him. He promises himself if they survive this, he’ll tell Freed how he feels.

———

Bickslow chickened out, and a few months later, the four of them are in Blue Pegasus.

Being in Blue Pegasus is different. It’s not bad, it’s not good. Just different.

It’s nice to see Evergreen making friends with other women, and her defensive nature falling to the wayside. It’s amusing to watch Laxus try to be smooth with men and women alike when he knows all the blonde wants to do is just punch someone again like the good ol’ days.

And Freed meshes pretty decently into their new guild. He also looks too good in his new suit for the guild. Bickslow has stopped beating himself up over admiring how Freed looks. If he could only just get the guts to do something about it.

Freed smiles to him from across the guild and Bickslow gives a weak wave back.

The fire hasn’t died yet, but is in fear of being doused at any moment.

———

The Fairy Tail reunion brings many things. It brings tears, joy, and a sense of camaraderie back into their lives. It also brings many more near death experiences.

This time, Freed has taken the least of the damage, still able to walk despite the bandages on his arms and torso. Evergreen is passed out at the moment, and Bickslow’s injuries keep him awake, unfortunately.

He sees Freed take a chair to move closer to Bickslow’s bedside, a worried expression marring his features.

“Concern’s not a good look for you, Freed. We’re all gonna be fine.” He wheezes out, covering his mouth from a coughing fit.

Freed offers a weak smile. “I apologize. I just wish I could have done more to help. Perhaps we wouldn’t have sustained so many injuries otherwise.” He mused, eyes narrowed in thought.

“Freed, you held a barrier spell over the whole town and for like what, half an hour? And not to mention you and Ichiya did take down that weird robot. You did much more than what anyone could ask if you.” He reassured. He wished Freed wouldn’t put so much pressure on his own shoulders.

Freed’s eyebrows unfurrowed, seeming as if he were trying to calm down a little. “I suppose you’re right. Thank you.” He said. Bickslow was happy to sit in comfortable silence with Freed while they both rested.

It was comfortable until he felt Freed take both of his hands, making his heart race more than it should.

“Freed what are you—“ he started to say.

And was silenced with the soft press of Freed’s lips against his. If a kiss could heal wounds, Freed’s kiss was almost life saving. If he paid attention to anything else, he might have been able to feel the quiet tears that fell down Freed’s cheeks onto his own.

It felt like ages had passed when Freed pulled away, worry, sadness but also, a tinge if hope graced his features.

“I had to. At least once. Just in case…” he said softly. The rest of those words didn’t need to be spoken. Neither wanted to finish that sentence. With the way this war was raging, things seemed bleak.

All Bickslow could do was tug Freed closer, scooting over weakly in the tiny infirmary bed so they could share. To his surprise, and delight, Freed too upon the offer and lay next to Bickslow. Their hands intertwined in the soft comfort that they both needed. Bickslow felt exhaustion sleeping into his bones as his eyes slipped shut.

“Rest for now. I’ll keep watch.” Was the last thing he heard ever vigilant Freed say, before sleep took him.

The fire had consumed the both of them, and there was no putting it out.

————

Bickslow is close to falling asleep on the couch. It’s Christmas Eve, and the fireplace is blazing while soft Christmas ballads play in the background and snow softly tumbled down outside. In the crook of his arm, is Freed reading in comfortable silence.

A smile was graced upon Freed’s lips, nestled in Bickslow’s embrace. Bickslow ran his fingers through those long, silky strands of hair, feeling the tired slowly wash over him as if the repetitive motion was lulling him to sleep.

Before he let sleep take him, he pressed a tender kiss to Freed’s cheek, earning a soft chuckle.

And he swore he could feel the spark catch on his lips. A spark that would never fade.

[supersoldiersruined-me]

Caelus

A/N: This is my entry (super late yet again) for @ruckystarnes Summer of AUs challenge! And for a lack of inspiration, the titlte is space in latin! loll I had an inital idea when I signed up but this honestly took me so long to grasp and then it just poured out! So here it is, thank you for being so patient love! 💖 Beta: babyboo @eyesfixedonthesun22 Warnings: language, smut, gay sex, mention of blood  Word count: 5714 Prompt: Space AU, Stucky

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“Steve, you jackass! Come back!” There’s no point in yelling twice. Bucky knows. But his best friend is storming towards the recruiting line-up with a mighty will. When they had denied him to join the army, Steve jumped on every last occasion to prove himself.

Not two weeks ago, Stark Industries announced a new advanced project that would allow a select group of candidates to participate in a space camp tryout. They’d be secluded into experimental ships, given some basic training and then experts would monitor their behavior, their reactions to simulated situations. If they made it out alive - and sane - a month later, they’d be taken to Stark’s secret facility and given proper training and instructions. Every boy in New York reached out like little kids given the gift of their lives.

So Bucky is standing there in the busy streets of Brooklyn, arms up in disbelief. The sick boy was going to go against the odds once more. He was a foot shorter than the men around him. Arms frail, and thrown into an asthma attack once he reached the building. Security threatened to keep him out - much to his safety - but Steven Grant Rogers does not back down because of some disability.

“I swear to God,” Bucky mumbles under his breath as he begins to make his way towards the atroupment of testosterone. 

“There’s no reason for me to be doing less than these men!” Comes as a shout out of Steve’s mouth. He’s red and Bucky isn’t sure if it’s the rage or yet another one of his problems surfacing.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s go home,” he tries to reason with him.

“No Buck! Don’t you get it?” Steve turns back to the guard. “I’ll fucking die anyway! Might as well it be doing something important…” His face winces at the thought; he’d never mentioned his illness as something so weighing, so dark.

“Steve…” He brings his hand to his best pal’s shoulder as he tries to comfort him. “Your value isn’t measured with what you can do for the world. You take care of me and that’s plenty.” Steve sighs and accepts defeat.

“Fine,” he looks into Bucky’s eyes, tears of anger filling his own, “I guess we can go.”

They turn towards the street and start walking home. As he looks over his shoulder at the line of people still hoping to get a shot, he sees a strange man scribbling down a notepad, looking at the two of them leave with a smile. Round glasses frame his face, he hasn’t shaved in a week. From his outfit and his demeanor Bucky knows he’s German. He shrugs it off and turns his attention back to his friend, throwing his arm around his neck.

It’s a week later when a knock at the door startles the boys out of their sleep. It must be around three in the morning, as far as Steve can tell. He turns on the lamp on his nightstand and looks over at Bucky in annoyance.

“Jerks,” he whispers as he recalls the nights of torment the kids from the neighbourhood had him endure - it was the reason Bucky had moved in with him.

“Let me take care of it,” the dark haired man replies. 

“Bucky, stop. I can take care of myself.”

“See, the thing is, you don’t have to.” He shakes his shoulder before walking over to the door. There’s a paper taped to it, bright and clear texts surround a pointy, metal ship image. There’s the Stark logo on it, and it makes him shiver in excitement.

“Steve…” He trails. “Get your ass over here.”

He hands him the poster and gives him a minute to read. It begins to tremble in his hands when he reaches the last sentence: “We are glad to announce that you have been selected to participate in an experimental camp supervised by the Stark Industries.”

There’s a place and time for them to be the next day, and they spend the rest of the night getting their luggage ready, along with making up stories and tripping out over the opportunity.

*

The rustic walls of brick have transformed into sterile steel. The floors are made of a plastic-like material - something easy to clean, Steve notices. It would be impossible to reach the ceiling and he’s wondering how they even managed to build this facility anyway. It’s highly distinct from the level of ingenuity of the current construction standards. The white building stands out absurdly in its secluded forest location.

Robots roam around, tacking and bolting steel plates to one another. Prototypes of deadly weapons are hung on the walls as they walk behind a seductive lady to what they presume is the reception. Their stuff, along with themselves, go through metal detectors - something they had only heard of until now - before making their way to a large office.

“Good evening, boy.” There’s a thick accent to the greeting, one that both can easily distinguish. “I hope we haven’t given you too much trouble.”

“Not at all, um...” Bucky begins, words failing him as he’s still processing the amount of discoveries they are about to do. He sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping.

“I’m Dr. Erskine. Responsible of the Biological Enhancement department here at Stark Industries. This here is Lady Carter, she’ll be assisting you on your journey.” The voluptuous woman nods their way and it has them both swallowing hard. She has a confidence they had never witnessed, and it has them nearly humiliating themselves.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve manages to say as he struggles to gain composure. He hopes she doesn’t notice him drying his palms on the back of his pants.

“Likewise,” she says. Her British accent runs a shiver up Bucky’s spine.

“Now, we wouldn’t want to keep you up too late. If you please follow Miss Carter to your assigned pod. We’ll go through the logistics in the morning.” The German man hands them a pair of overalls; nothing flattering, Bucky thinks.

*

It takes only three weeks for the boys to be fully independent, allowing them to be part of the first team to launch the program. Their uniforms along with their tools and weapons get a significant upgrade. They’re already anticipating the look of their new quarters.

“Can’t believe we’re doing this,” Steve mentions.

“Really? After twenty-something attempts I would highly believe that you’d be given a chance,” Bucky answers with a hint of sarcasm. They both laugh until a voice requests them to be at the main quarter in the next ten minutes.

The spaceship is a hundred feet tall or so, its body is quite narrow and it feels pretty sturdy. They gulp nonetheless, this would be for real and they couldn’t just drop out with a snap of their fingers. The team of eight wait by the cabin door, ably putting on their masks and equipment.

“This is it!” Bucky shouts.

“We’ve been working so hard for this. Maybe a few years after this we’ll be able to finally see what Earth looks like from up there.” Doug, who’d been the fittest one of them until he took Bucky under his wing and made him an even bigger beast, contemplates the unimaginable. 

“Remember when just last year they presented the concept of flying cars and it failed. Seems like they were either lying to us or they made phenomenal progress since then…” Bucky remembers his astonishment after the Stark Expo; he was always a fan of progress and technology used for the good of the population. This journey would be an experiment of a life-time.

“Alright everyone settle in.” The German accent demands over the intercom. The small group walks into the ship and find their respective seats. With his wit and quick thinking, Steve was assigned board commander. Bucky was in charge of the combat tactics. It felt like, for once, their lives had meaning and it was an honour to be going through this together.

“‘Til the end of the line.” Steve captures his friend’s hand in his.

“‘Til the end of the line,” Bucky answers. They feel the ship ‘shake off the ground’, and the team howls in enthusiasm. 

Once the orbiting procedures are done, they find their way into their seperate quarters, each sharing rooms in teams of three, except for Bucky and Steve who have the room to just the two of them. They walk to the door as they chit chat. Their smiles fade when the door slides before them and they notice the size of the room.

A large window gives out to a realistic CGI galaxy. The moon roams by slowly and it’s enough to have them holding their breaths, eyes watering at the beauty. 

“Steve,” Bucky whispers. He turns to see his friend nodding at him, his lower lip bitten as he tries to hold in his emotions. “This wouldn’t have happened without your stubborn little head.” 

“You deserve this as much as I do Buck.” They turn around and freeze at the sight of the one king sized bed that sits right in the middle of the room. Around it is a flowy drape they can pull closed - something to keep the sun out as it never sets, they think. At the corner of his eyes, Steve can see Bucky blush. His body shivers, his numerous dreams coming to his mind again.

“Is, um. Is that okay with you?” He asks.

“Yeah. Yeah it’s fine Stevie.” He walks over and sets his bag on a small bench. They begin to set their things in the abundant storage space. Neither of them talk for the next couple of minutes, too shy, perhaps. Too caught in their own fantasies to acknowledge their separate peaks at the one bed as they eyeball the distance that will be left between them.

“I’m exhausted. I’ll hit the showers and be right back.” Bucky is first to say, a foot already out the door.

Steve sheds his clothes, leaving only his briefs on. The sheets are the softest thing he’s ever touched. Everything is plushy and so welcoming. There’s Bucky’s sweatshirt on the left side pillow; he’s tempted to take it and wear it, knowing he’s always cold at night. But he only pulls it close and brings it to his face, feeling the material on his heating cheeks, inhaling the masculinity of his best friend. It’s inevitable he’s growing hard at the thought of being able to smell it directly from his neck. To have his head on his chest. 

His free hand reaches under the band of his briefs, tentatively groping himself to try and relieve some tension. He loses himself in it though, and starts moving and twisting his hand faster. He’s staining his underwear but he doesn’t care. He knows Bucky’s hand would feel much better, much more unforgiving. There’s a pinch in his gut at the thought of teaching him all his sweet spots - or worse even, letting him discover them as he becomes a panting mess on this very bed. 

“Shit,” he whimpers into the balled up sweater. His hips find a slow rhythm to go along his hand movements. His dick is out of its hiding spot by now; he’s big for his frame and he needs the extra room to pump harder. The door opens but he’s too lost to notice. There’s another muffled moan before he hears someone clear their throat.

“Steve, I-”

“Fuck! I’m sorry.” No no no! he thinks. “Buck I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine Rogers, just... Maybe finish in the bathroom?” He suggests with an uncomfortable smile. He’s scratching his scalp, looking anywhere around the room but the bed. When Steve doesn’t budge, he allows himself to look down. His friend had simply pulled the cover over his head, and he knows Steve is cursing himself for being careless.

“You can keep the hoodie, if you’re cold.” Steve nods no and doesn’t move. “Alright,” he adds before shuffling into his spot. He’s careful to stay along the edge of the bed, enough not to fall off but granting his friend personal space. He closes his eyes and tries to let his mind wander into sleep. It’s no use now that he’s seen his pal touching himself like that. Not that he’d never imagined it - he was much smaller in his mind though. He didn’t sound as heavenly either. Bucky had caught Steve jerking off already, their apartment being quite small for two people, but it was always discreet and he mostly had to spy on him to see anything.

The more he thinks about it, the more each scenario comes out clear. Steve had touched himself whenever they had been close, like when they got back home from the drive-in, or if Bucky walked around shirtless after a rather intense training. Steve had touched himself every time he felt bothered with Bucky’s presence, and fuck if that wasn’t something he’d dreamed about.

He inhales deeply before shifting to face Steve. His hand slowly lifts and comes to rest on his friend’s shoulder, which surprisingly relaxes under his touch rather than tense up. 

“Bucky, it’s late. I’m sorry, okay?” It’s a half plead, half demand as the physical effects of his actions still haven’t dissipated. Bucky knows from the speed of his heart when his Stevie is nervous of agitated. Or in this case aroused.

“No. I’m sorry Steve.” Without turning completely, Steve gives him more of his attention. His silence is enough to note his questioning. “I should’ve realised before.”

“Wh-what do you mean, Buck?”

He answers with his body rather than try to explain his thoughts out loud; Bucky could be the clumsiest person when his mind got hazy. His hand moves to Steve’s chest, and in a swift pull he brings him closer. Close enough to kiss along his shoulder, then up his neck, until his nose tickles the base of his scalp.

“Buck,” Steve shivers.

“Let me. Please Stevie,” he says, his breath warm on the poor boy’s frigid body. When he doesn’t feel a protest, he lowers his hand onto his stomach, takes extra time just under his navel before he ventures under the waistband of his briefs. He’s perfectly hard under his touch, it takes a longer stroke than he anticipated before his thumb can reach the soaked tip. Steve hums deep in his throat. Bucky’s hip jerks forward in response. He’s already a mess and he���s only been touching him for a few seconds.

“Yes,” Steve whimpers. It earns him a soft bite to the shoulder; tender action meant to stifle a moan. “Bucky, don’t hold back.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear this,” he answers.

He’s got Steve on his stomach as soon as he’s done answering, a low grunt escapes his lips when he kneels over Steve’s legs, admiring the boy’s slender body. He snakes his hands over his shoulders, over his arms. He feels every inch of his skin as if he’d seen it for the first time. It feels new, strange even, to be able to give his pal what he’d always dreamed of; but it’s the best sentiment he’s ever experienced. From the soft moans he can pull from Steve, Bucky knows he’s enjoying this as well. Once the muscles under his touch have gone slack, he proceeds lower, kissing the trail he makes in the valley of his back. Steve jerks his hips up slightly when Bucky’s thumbs come to rest over his back dimples. He’s longing for what’s next; for the frightening act of intimacy.

“Bucky, you don’t-” He’s cut short in his suggestion by the inevitable. He moans Bucky’s name over and over every time his tongue flattens over his puckered hole. Bucky’s at work like a hungry man who’s just discovered the sweetest fruit. He licks and sucks and pokes intently at the flustered mess of man underneath him; and /he’s/ already done for. He’s rock hard in his own boxers at the way he can get Steve to squirm. 

“Ja-james! Ah!” Steve’s got both hands fisting the sheet and his face flat into his pillow. He moves his hips along with the tactful intrusions. There’s a sticky mess already glueing his stomach to the mattress but he doesn’t care. If anything it allows for the lack of friction on his aching dick. “More. Please,” he pants.

He can hear Bucky spit but his rear is already too worn out from the previous actions to feel a thing. There’s a light poke, then a sting as Bucky’s slowly inching two fingers into him. 

“So fucking tight, Stevie. God… You’re going to ruin my cock, aren’t ya?” His words send shivers up their bodies. 

“All yours Buck,” Steve adds before choking on his words when he feels a third finger joining the others. “Always been yours.” With that said, Steve stretches back as best he can and brings a hand to the brunette’s hair. He plays with the curls, eyes fixed on the icy blues and his stomach tightens when Bucky leans into the touch. He moves his hand to his chin and pulls him up so their eyes are leveled.

“Will you let me take care of you now?” Bucky asks and regrets the way he phrased that.

“I can ta-”

“No, punk.” He sighs and closes his eyes. “It’s not about bullies anymore Stevie. I want you to feel wanted. Desired. It always pissed me off to see how the ladies treated you. They don’t know what they’re missing.” There’s a moment of silence while Steve turns around and sits straighter. His brows furrow but he doesn’t argue.

“Bucky, it’s fine. Those girls didn’t really have anything going for me, anyway.”

“So… Will you?” He’s still not looking at Steve. Afraid that maybe this was all he could allow himself to take. He ruined his chance, he thinks. But then Steve’s thumb comes to his chin and he’s forced to look up. The pretty blond is all smiles; the sweet pink on his cheeks warms Bucky’s heart. Steve dives in and crashes his lips to his friend’s. His boyfriend? Lover? He isn’t sure yet but that doesn’t matter for the night. 

“Would that include letting me come before the morning?” There’s a gasp coming from Bucky as the question comes out, but he smiles and nods stupidly at Steve’s confidence. He pounces on him, their lips meeting again in a heated kiss. 

“Only if it’s while I’m fucking that prefect little ass,” he taunts.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Steve answers.

The following nights are spent identically. Several years of hidden feelings are finally being rewarded and the boys know exactly how to make up for lost time. Most of their breaks are spent in their room, in the sauna or in the private lounge each team gets to share alternatively. Between trainings and meals, before, during and after showers. It’s an insatiable feeling to be wanted and taken care of, which never came easily to Steve until the very moment Bucky had his face between his hands and seemed to dwell into his eyes. Everything went on so quickly. Too quickly, perhaps, for Bucky soon found himself feeling guilty. Dirty. To be filling his needs with his favourite boy, while he knows he’s building a really fragile castle around them. To be imagining a life of happiness that had no place to be. Amongst the group, none seem to have caught up on their shenanigans. They were safe. Safe in the confines of this ship until the mission was over and they’d have to go back to being best buddies; friends since playground. It’s a thought that has Bucky’s stomach churning. He’d been glued to bed with a pounding headache for two days, and a raging boner he kept denying Steve. This has to stop, he thinks.

The curtains rush open, startling him out of sleep. Through the bright, manipulated daylight he sees Steve’s silhouette standing in front of their window. 

“What’s up, Stevie?” His voice barely makes it out of him.

“I could ask you the same,” Steve accuses right away. He can hear Bucky fall back into his pillow and grunt.

“Care to explain…”

“You’re unbelievable.” He paces, his hands on his hips. “What’s so hard for you to accept? I thought you realised that we had been hiding these mutual feelings. I thought you were on my side, Buck. You haven’t touched me, haven’t even looked at me in the eyes for a week…”

The anguish in his voice has Bucky up on his feet in a second - he’s ready to lay down his point of view but Steve retorts faster.

“Look around! We’re in a fucking ship that’s meant to be in space, man.” His finger taps the glass behind him. “Everything around us is astonishing progress.”

“Yeah, simulated,” Bucky says.

“But progress nonetheless. Forget what people think. Gosh I wish this thing could take us to the future. Maybe things would have changed…” Bucky takes a step closer and he’s ready to fold. He wants Steve in his arms. Wants to keep his word and hold him tight. He reaches his arms out but quickly retracts when a sharp object flies over his upper arm.

“What the-”

There’s a rush of wind that sends a dozen more pieces their way. The back wall of their room is fractured, smoke coming in from the adjacent room, followed by a muffled scream. The strident screeching of metal makes it hard to focus. Alarms have gone off and an external team is running around, trying to find everyone.

It suddenly becomes hard to breathe but the medics have surged to rescue the guys who were stuck behind the flames. When Bucky turns around to grab onto Steve, he finds him lying on the ground, hands clenching his stomach and he swears that even through all the back-alley fights he’s never seen Steve’s face so contorted. A piece of steel bigger than his hand pokes out of a gash just under his left rib. Bucky knows not to pull it from him. He’d seen the consequences first hand on the field. 

“Don’t move, don’t move.” He’s got a hand on his shoulder and the other beneath his head. There’s a glance around his body before he’s sure he can lift him up. Luckily, Steve’s about half the size of the guys Bucky had to carry in boot camp. He makes sure to keep the wound close to himself, and he heads towards the nearest door, the floor plan of the ship something he knows like the back of his hand.

“I got you Stevie,” Bucky says when he hears him weep.

**

Bucky’s fidgeting on the chair around the corner of two narrow hallways. His arm still burns from the alcohol-drenched bandage someone put on him while he was passed out. He turns to the one on his right. It’s bright from all the fluorescents and much too lifeless to his liking. The same nurse keeps shuffling through the different doors with a pad in hands. His head is about to explode from all the beeping of the life support machines and the aftermath of inhaling so much smoke. Someone at the end of the hall in front of him keeps coughing and Bucky’s throat is suddenly tingling. He’s a moment away from bolting up from his seat when Peggy walks out of the room.

“Barnes.” She has an apologetic look, but she offers a sweet smile. “He’d like to see you.”

There’s a blink before he can react, before blood goes back into his legs and he can head towards her. She reaches for his arm and guides him over, stopping just before the curtain around the bed.

“Now,” she begins. “We’ve had to um… They did someth-”

“He’s fine?” He practically screams.

“Yes. Yes James he is fine.” She takes a step back and stretches her arm to direct him forward. He takes a deep breath, flattens his shirt over himself as a habit and nervously pulls onto the edge of the curtain.

His heart skips a beat when he lays eyes on him. He recognizes the flowy blond hair; he wants to run his hand through it. But he’s taken aback when he gets closer. The under shirt they put on him is about to burst from the width of his shoulders. His jaw, man, his jaw is square and strong, just like the rest of him. He scans him up. Once. Twice. He thinks it’s the illusion of Steve being laid down, but he knows he’s gotten taller. Before he can wonder further a hand comes to his shoulder.

“Stark. What happened?” He asks, not taking his eyes off his friend.

“The infection spread like wildfire. His frail disposition made it impossible for him to surpass this. He needed a little...boost...if I can say so.”

“Well, a boost he got!” Bucky answers a tad enthusiastically. He sees Peggy smirk and his cheeks heat up. “Sorry,” he mouths.

“Yes. Well. We had this experimental serum going around for a while. A project run by Dr. Erskine. It was meant to help soldiers heal faster. Make their ability to bulk up easier. Let’s say we might have dosed up a little on him.”

“Is it permanent?”

“So far.” Peggy joins in.

“Did it... hurt?” There’s a new concern in Bucky’s voice. The same gut wrenching feeling he had whenever he found Steve beat up to the ground. He closes his eyes to keep the imminent tears from spilling out. 

“Did it like a champ,” comes Steve’s voice next.

**

“Steve, listen,” Bucky begins as they walk into their apartment, bags of groceries in arms - the first one since they’ve been back from the mission. He’s walking behind him, still astounded by the two inches Steve has won. Their elbows bump as they walk around in the kitchen - they’ve yet to adjust to the two of them taking a lot of space; the conversation of them moving out into a new place was impending. 

“Bucky, stop. I know you didn’t want to hurt me.” He means it, but Steve continues to set the things away without looking at him.

“I got caught off guard, Stevie. The lady asked the question but the tone in her voice made me uncomfortable. I should have s-”

“Yes. You should have said we were together. But it’s fine,” he adds. Bucky steps up and grabs one of the blonde’s hands. He brings it to his chest, over his heart, and his eyes begin to water when they get lost in his. There’s a synched deep breath before Bucky composes himself.

“I’m sorry.” Steve’s shoulders loosen at the small admission - he watches as Bucky kisses his fingers one by one before leaning into him. His lips come to his neck and Steve can’t help but shiver. The serum surely had enhanced everything.

“Why is it still so hard for you to acknowledge this,” Steve says as he rubs Bucky’s back. “Every time you say ‘friend’ my stomach flinches.” 

“Strict family. It’s been coded into me when I was young. Every time I would hang out with you I’d get deathly stares at the dinner table.” Steve hugs him tighter. Bucky had never mentioned this before. Never said a word about being roughed around as a kid. He feels guilty. A feeling of remorse stikes through him as he recalls the numerous times he asked Bucky to pose for his sketches. Or when he needed a hand climbing somewhere and Bucky would hold onto him /just that way/. He didn’t know that his father was overlooking their every move from his office window. Didn’t know that his own mother was being lectured about their behavior.

“Plus, I still look at you and kind of freak out that I don’t have my little Stevie anymore. But you know… I’m really looking forward to what /this/ Steve can do.” He takes a step back to better look at him. His hands are on his hard chest, making their way onto his shoulders and he can feel Steve relax under his touch. One hand moves up to his nape before settling onto the side of his face; the other has made its way south, tracing every muscle on the way down. 

“How about you knock some sense into me?” Bucky taunts, eyes dark and glimmery. It takes Steve out of his thought - pulls him out quite harshly in fact - but he lets the brunette palm him through the thick fabric of his chinos. 

“But, Buck. We always-”

“I know. But I want to, baby. At least once…” There’s a soft whine along Bucky’s words and Steve melts into his embrace. Their lips stand close, waiting patiently for the right opportunity; though Bucky’s hand has made its way past Steve’s zipper by now. “For once, Stevie...please fuck me.”

It’s beastial. The way Steve picks his lover like he’s not heavier than a pillow. How he has him pinned to the wall by their room - they had finally started sleeping in the same bed, and eventually turned the spare room into a small art studio.

It takes a minute for Bucky’s hand to land onto the door handle, and another second for his mind to command it to turn it open. Steve’s grunt follows when it finally pries wide, allowing them to adventure further. Three steps later, Bucky finds himself thrown onto the stiff mattress, shirt gone missing while strong hands are already working at the button of his pants.

“Don’t break anything, Rogers.” He lifts himself onto his elbows to look down at the brusque man between his legs.

“The only thing I might be breaking is the bed,” he begins, his words muffled as he bites down on his tongue in concentration. He looks up at the headboard. Surely this was the first time they’d be intimate since ‘the change’. It most likely frightens Bucky more than it does Steve. A grin autographs his next words. “We need a new one anyway.” And with that he hooks his fingers into the waistband of both Bucky’s pants and underwear, and glides them off his thighs.

“Always so fucking hard for me,” Steve growls. “No wonder, you had /me/ on my back like that. I could get used to this view.”

“Don’t linger, Stevie.” Bucky’s words are low, but stern. His hips buck in agreement.

“Was I so whiny all the time?” They both chuckle before Bucky swats him on the chest.

“Only when I was balls deep in that fantastic ass,” he answers, both hands on the plump flesh he mentioned. The action causes Steve to grind into him - and he’d be lying if he said that wasn’t the plan all along. Bruises would appear on his shoulders the next day with how hard Steve’s biting down on them.

“I swear to God-" The enhanced man has his prey on his stomach in a flash, barely taking a breath of effort. He reaches forward to present two fingers to Bucky who gladly coats them in a generous amount of saliva. A hum rumbles into his chest when he feels them swipe over his hole, Steve taking his turn in exploring his man. The stretch is new, although Bucky had done this to himself in the past. The sweet tickling feeling of the intrusion is brain numbing. He's not sure he’s going to last. Surely Steve’s new physique could give more than he bargained for.

“Holy shit,” he cries when he feels the head of his dick press against him. They both moan when Steve inches into him with ease until his hips meet with Bucky’s ass and he stops, giving both of them a moment to adjust.

“Never thought it would be this good,” the blond grunts, eyes shut as he focuses on not painting the walls that so tightly envelop him. He pulls out just a tad, before pushing back in and establishing a smooth rhythm. Bucky contorts and mewls beneath him, his eyes go white as they roll to the back of his head.

“Like that, huh?” Steve asks. “I sure as hell fucking like it.”

Bucky can only make faint noises. Steves and ahs and what not escape his lips in the smoothest symphony Steve has ever heard. He’s fucking him relentless, unsure of how he can even get his hips to move this way as he never found himself in this exact position. But he’s going. And going. And he’s loving every moment, so much so that he’s not sure he can ever go back to the old ways. Inevitably him or Bucky would succumb. Both giving and receiving felt amazing, but he’d always be James’ little Stevie.

“You take me so well, fuck,” he adds.

“Ste-eve.”

“I know. Poor little face is all red and hot. You’re so close, love.” The praise comes naturally from Steve, but it seems to have Bucky blushing even more. He bends down and snakes an arm under Bucky so his hand can come around and hook onto his neck. His right knee spreads his legs even further, allowing him to bottom down into him; the head of his cock nudges that sweet spot and as if the words weren’t enough, it has Bucky pulsing and making a mess on the bed.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” He exclaims as he empties himself completely while Steve still pounds into him. He reaches back and grabs his lover by the head to bring him in for a heated kiss. A moment later it’s Steve’s turn to fall over the edge. He groans and shakes as he gives three more thrusts before pulling out and letting his seed splatter over the spent brunette’s back. Hot spurts reach up to his shoulders and onto his cheek. Steve is quick to lean forward and lick him clean.

“So good,” he says.

“Stevie, that’s your own cum,” Bucky replies with a shy smile. Who’d have thought Steven Rogers would be the kinky one.

“Mmm. And?”

“And… I want some.” They both chuckle before Bucky can grab onto the man’s broad shoulders and fetch what he wanted.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #261

“i hate you for every time you ever bled for me.”

If you have a job, how long is your shift? I'm unemployed. Do you ever wear your hair in a pony tail? It's too short for that. What language did you take up in high school? Latin for one semester, then I took four of German. Do you like sunflowers? It's illegal to live in the South and not lmao. Have you ever held hands with someone in a car? Yeah. Would you rather be called honey or baby? Hunny. What is your favorite card game? Even though I never learned it super well, I used to enjoy Magic: The Gathering and have actually been like dying to play it for months lmao. How many emails were you sent today? None. What was your favorite Christmas gift you got last year? Well I mostly got money life chose I didn't get to use, lol. I honestly don't really remember anything else prominently... sounds bad, but yeah, so is my memory lmao. What have you thought up yet for this year’s list? Well it's only April, but a treadmill or something like that is at the top right now. Do you have any embarrassing usernames? Ha ha, none that I still use. Do you have a backpack in a shape of an animal? No, but I almost got a meerkat one. But it was too small. :'( Have you ever waxed your legs? OW no. My hair is too long and thick. Have you ever taught a little kid to flick people off? lol wow no. Have you ever itched yourself until your skin was raw? I do that remarkably easy, especially on my legs. I literally have long scars from it. Do you always clear your history after using the computer? No. Have you ever had your food stolen by a bird? Ha ha nah. Are you responsible for stuffing someone's stocking? No. Do you make your own smoothies or juices? No. Do you like oatmeal raisin cookies? I absolutely hate raisins. What age do you think is too old to still live with your parents? It greatly depends on a lot of things: the person's health, financial position, etc. Have you ever watched Bob's Burgers? A couple times. It was pretty funny if I remember correctly. Denim, leather or varsity jacket? UUUUGGGGGHHHHH leather. I've wanted one since middle school. ;_; Has a teacher ever caught and read a note you were passing in class? No. I honestly didn't pass notes, but I find it mean as FUCK when teachers do this. Privacy is a goddamn thing that should be respected. I do not support passing notes in class, like you're there to learn, but having it shared in front of all your peers is not the fucking answer. I get heated about this shit. What's your favorite perfume that you own? I only own one that's called "Blush" from rue 21. It smells really nice, though. Do you clean things that are already clean when you're bored? No. I'd rather clean something that isn't already. Do you have an older brother? Yes. What do you do when someone overweight complains about being overweight? Lol I'd probably say "mood," but it depends on our relationship of course. Like there're times to be humorous and light-hearted about it and other times when you don't make it about you. If they're clearly more sad and especially if I don't know them well, I'd say something like "I understand," because I can almost guarantee I do about this. Have either of your parents ever been to jail? No. Have you ever been to jail? No, I'm a good noodle. :) Are your collarbones prominent? No. ;_; You can see them, yeah, but they're not like very obvious. It's one of my biggest motivators to lose weight though because I am dyinnnnggg for dermals there, but I think it would look weird without that contrast. Have you ever in your life worn overalls? When I was a kiddo. Ugly things. Do you own anything tribal print? No. Do you watch any beauty gurus on YouTube? I'm not even very interested in beauty, yet I love Jeffree Star??? Nikkie is cool too. I've found I watch more for personalities than content, in all genres of vids. Do you like Skittles? More like LOVE. Do you have a PillowPet? No. If you do, what kind of PillowPet do you have? N/A Do you have sleep paralysis? Thank the fuck to god no. That shit sounds absolutely terrifying. Is there anyone at home right now you wish wasn't? No. Do you like Placebo? Tbh I can't think of one song by them rn. I know I've heard them, Mom's even got a CD I'm sure I've tried out long ago when I got into her music, but obviously nothing stood out well enough, at least back then. Has anyone ever carried you to bed? As a kid, yeah, usually my dad. Could you happily date someone prettier than you? Yes???? Do you know anyone with cancer? Both my mom and grandmother right now. Are you easily offended? No. Do your parents buy you most anything you want? HI we've always been poor so no. Not just that, but they knew better than to spoil us. Have you ever tried to jump a fence? I have. Do you watch My Strange Addiction? No. How attracted are you to the last person that kissed you? A bit above moderately ig. Have you ever known a white supremacist? HUNNY I live in the South. In regards to who do you think "what if?" Jason as a fucking whole is my absolute "what if." Do you like the smell of a barbecue? Yes, even though I enjoy like almost no food at most of them. Doesn't stop it from smelling good. Has anyone ever called you apathetic or unemotional? I can't even imagine someone calling me that, no. I'm the polar opposite. How much money do you spend in a month on clothes or accessories? None in the average month. What was the last clothing item you wore that doesn't belong to you? A pair of Mom's pants. I didn't have any clean pairs. Do you own anything with your state or providence's name on it? No. Got no interest in sporting anything relating to a boring-ass, bigoted, racist state. How often do you hold back from saying what you are thinking? WOW A LOT!!!!!!!!!!! Do you like the Paranormal Activity movies? Yeah, I do. I mean yeah, they're fake, but what horror movie isn't even though it claims it is, honestly. How do you like your oatmeal? Apples & cinnamon with a bit of sugar. Does it make you feel better when an ex starts dating someone unattractive? No. Appearance doesn't mean shit when it comes to what the heart wants. What's your favorite way to eat peanut butter? In a sandwich w/ grape jam. Do you fall in infatuation easily? Infatuation, I'm not sure. Who has initiated most of your first kisses? Considering almost all previous relationships, usually me as they all knew I needed to go slow. I'd only do it if I was aware they'd wanted to kiss already, though. Do you like bows? Omg yes, cute shit. Has a boyfriend ever made you breakfast? Yes. Jason first went to college to be a chef. Are you more likely to show affection through your words or your actions? Probably words when you consider I'm slow with physically doing that, but I'm honestly really affectionate either way when I'm comfortable with you. Do you like Cheez-Its? VERY MUCH SO omg keep them away from me. Do you ever use coloring books? Not anymore. How do you feel about instrumental music? I have to be in the mood for it. Have you ever been on a trapeze? No. What's the coolest natural event you've ever witnessed? I still don't know to this day what it was, but I THINK it was a star exploding. Scared me, man. Seeing the big lunar eclipse last year was also wicked cool. Do you know how to use chopsticks? HA, I never could. Not with my tremors. Do you buy chocolate after Valentine's Day when it goes on sale? No, I don't need chocolate. Do you think bunnies are cute? I would fight God to give a lop-eared bunny one (1) pet. Do you personally know anyone who is an author? I've had a friend get something published in a magazine before, and during one stay at the psych hospital, I met a published poet. His stuff was really good. Last time (if ever) you were on an airplane, where were you going? Otw home from Illinois. Do you know anyone who is left-handed? Yeah? I'd assume everyone would at least know one... If people could read your mind, what would they usually find? The thought "I'm bored" every five minutes. What's a song that makes you feel happy? "Jump" by Van Halen came to mind first. How did you meet your best friend? YouTube. Do you need money to be happy? To a degree, yes. Money can buy happiness - but again, to a degree. Saying it doesn't is bullshit. What's a good idea you've had recently? Probably just OC ideas, lmao. I've thought of some decently cool stuff recently. what is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? Cinnamon rolls uggggghhhhhh How many slices of pizza do you usually eat? Two or three if I'm seriously hungry. If you could switch places with someone for a day, who would it be? Is "Mark's girlfriend" even remotely surprising lmao but no seriously she's an amazing and productive person like I WISH. What's the last song you listened to? "Roots" by In This Moment is on rn. Do you like the movie Zootopia? Ye! Do you ever go on Pinterest? Yeah. What's the last kind of chocolate you ate? A Reese's. Tell me a line from the song you're listening to: "I'm stronger than I ever knew - I'm strong because of you." Have you ever participated in a march/protest? No. Have you ever performed in front of a large audience? Yeah, for dance classes and school stuff. What did you eat the last time you went to the movies? Popcorn. I may have gotten sour gummies, too? Idr. Who was the last person to see you cry? Mom. Do you listen to music every day? There are rare days where I don't. I'll be watching too many actual videos. Do you have a hard time making decisions? A STUPID hard time. I'm extremely dependent, including when faced with decisions. I second-guess myself with everything. Do you start the shower water before or after you get in? Before. How many times have you been to a museum? A good number of times. We live pretty close to an art + science one. Are you going to be getting any new pets soon? Most likely not. Would you rather be a Panda or Grizzly bear? A panda so it wouldn't be legal to shoot me lmao. Do the stairs in your house have carpet? We only have one floor. Can you do a twirl like a ballerina? Oh wow, no. Even when I was a dancer, I SUCKED at that. When you were younger, were you ever in a relationship with someone you now realize was way too old for you? No. Is your family dysfunctional? To a degree. How old were you the first time you travelled alone? 22? What's the longest hotel stay you've ever had? I don't know. Not long. We only ever really stayed at one when we had to go to Myrtle Beach for annual dance competitions, and those were only like, a weekend. What architectural style was your childhood home? Uhhh idk. Very normal. Tell me a bit about your last relationship. What was it like dating them? It was great, but also stressful because of distance. What's the largest animal you've seen in the wild? Maybe like a large buck or something. Do any of your friends or family members have strange occupations? Not that I'm aware of. Have you ever been in weather so severe that you feared for your safety? Oh yeah. What political issues are the most important to you personally? Gay rights and the pro-choice stance. Does your neighborhood have a community garden? I've never even heard of such a thing. What small thing makes you automatically distrust someone? Acting secretive or cryptic about who they are as a person. Of all the states/provinces in your country, which one is your favorite? Visually that I've seen a good number of pictures of, Utah. Are there any obscure foods you've eaten that most people have never tried? I very much doubt that. What's the kindest thing a total stranger has done for you? I'm unsure. Have you ever used a meal kit delivery service? Yeah, I did one of those diet things before... but the name is evading me, even though it's super common. Nutrisystem, maybe? Do you have any pets? If so, how old are they? Venus is around five, and Roman is two. Do you have any psychological issues rooted in events from your childhood? My psychiatrist and former therapist predict my discomfort around men, particularly when they're behind me, and extreme fear of rape is rooted in two kids from pre-k that used to chase, randomly hug the hell out of, and try to kiss me. I'd actually entirely forgotten about it until we really started to dig deep, so I guess it's a repressed memory. Do you remember your locker combinations from high school? WOW no, son. What's your favorite DIY crafts youtube channel? I don't watch DIY stuff. What was your high school's mascot? Firebird. Who were your best friends in high school? Hannia, Megan, Maria, Girt, and Dennis were The Crew. Who was your first boyfriend or girlfriend? Aaron was my brief puppy-dog love, but Jason was my first real boyfriend. Would you rather sleep on the top bunk or bottom bunk? Bottom. If I slept on the top, but bottom is getting crushed lmao. As a little kid though when Nicole and I shared a room, I had to have the top bunk until I got a bit older. What insects are you afraid of? BEETLES, CICADAS, AND LARVA GET THE FUCK OUT. Honestly most insects scare me to a degree. Have you ever had a secret admirer that left you notes? I think the aforementioned Aaron did in middle school at least once before we dated. What was your favorite thing to do at sleepovers when you were younger? Swimming in the pool, if they had one. What's one way in which you're still a child? I'm dependent as shit on my mom. What's one way in which you're old? I now say "back in the day" sometimes lmfao. Do you feel old or young? Or do you feel both at different times? Both at different times. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? No. When you look at your baby pictures, do you recognize yourself? Only once at a certain age. What is your favorite thing to do in the pool? Just kinda swim around and think, or watch nature. Have you ever taken a picture at the perfect moment? I know I have, but they're evading me, gaaaah. What color(s) eyeshadow do you wear the most? I only ever wear black. What’s your favourite brand of peanut butter? Uhhh never really paid much attention to brands. Do you put all your stuff for class in one binder or several? When I was in school, I had one binder with dividers, but I also had specific folders too. What’s your favourite Lunchables meal? The nachos. How many languages can you recite the alphabet in? Two. What’s your favourite flavour of sunflower seeds? I hate those. What’s your favourite flavor of muffin? Chocolate oof. Have you ever had carpal tunnel? I do. I haven't had problems in a couple months, though. Are you one of those people who is really smart but has no common sense? OW FUCK OFF. How old were you when you met your first love? I was just shy of 16. Did you get ice cream from the ice cream truck when you were little? Do they still have an ice cream truck where you live? We occasionally did as a kid, but they definitely don't have that where we live now. Has the last person you kissed met your family? She met my mom, dad, and younger sister. What was the last strong emotion you experienced? Who was responsible for it? Remorse. Myself. Have you ever had to cancel a bank account? Yes. Was the last conversation you had an argument? No. If you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today? I am not in the financial or mental position to get married right now. Where was the last place you got completely wasted? I've never been "wasted." If you could have anyone as your roommate, who would you choose? Sara. Have you ever changed the prices of items at a store? Wow no. Well, MAYBE when I actually worked in stores and I was supposed to, but I don't remember doing that. Do you go for walks often? I never do because of having no area to (my house is along a dangerous curve), and I need to be very careful because of muscle atrophy in my legs. I need to have easy access to a place to sit and recover or else I get very close to collapsing. As mentioned, I desperately want a treadmill. Would your parents disown you if you got pregnant? No, I'm 24 years old. My mom would never in her life do that at any age anyway. How strange do people say you are? Idk?? That's not something I really try to find out because my AvPD would possibly make me cry asldkfjwe. Have you opened food at a grocery store & ate it without or before paying? I would never do that without, but I have before in cases of being very dizzy and knowing I desperately needed food. How artistic are you? I think I'm pretty artistic, but more in concept than actuality... Like I have so so so SOOOOOO many ideas, particularly with drawing, I just don't. Do it. Can you legally drive? Not currently, because my permit has been expired since last year. Did anything dramatic go down yesterday? No. Do you find smoking unattractive? Very. Have you ever been in a situation where you had to be around your ex everyday? No, thankfully. Have you seen someone recently you used to talk to, but don’t anymore? No. Are you comfortable sharing drinks with your friends? No; I don't even share drinks with family. Honestly, have you ever written something on a bathroom stall? No, I hate that shit. When you were a kid did you ever look up “sex” in the dictionary? Actually no. I literally didn't learn anything about it 'til family life in the 5th grade. Is there anything written on the shirt you’re wearing right now? No. Are you shorter or taller than most of your friends? I'm a normal height, really. Honestly, do you double dip? If I'm sharing, no. All you have to do is break the chip. What was the last junk food you ate? I had a little bit of popcorn yesterday.